#the vow chapter iii | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kjhbsies · 3 months

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Within These Walls

Ellie Williams x fem!reader Synopsis: What would happen if Ellie saw her worst enemy, and the girl who has a crush on her wife? No, she's not jealous... is she? Warnings: Part III of the Ellie and arranged marriage trope. This is the last chapter and I'm grateful for all the support. This is not proofread so expect some grammatical errors. There are some Abby x reader and Ellie x Dina. Please be warned that this is just a fiction and I don't hate Dina. Happy reading!

wc: 5695 Part I. Part II.

Ellie’s mind is blank throughout the day and she can’t seem to move, not even a limb. She’d like to just sleep and rot in her bed for eternity but she couldn’t. Not today. Because this is a special day. This day will be your wedding.

A voice pulled her out from her thoughts. “What a handsome young girl you are.” The old lady who is preparing her attire complimented Ellie. She smiled at her forcefully, not even having the courage to give a genuine one.

“Is there a problem?” She asked kindly and Ellie couldn’t even answer her straight. Instead, she just sighed and looked down on her feet.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea.” Ellie answered silently. Still feeling guilty of taking your feelings for granted and also for being a shitty person to everyone, even herself. She has unfinished business with Dina, and as much as she wants to just avoid the situation completely, it’ll still bite her in the end. But she doesn’t have the balls to talk to her, she’s afraid that if she does, Ellie will still go back to the darkest place that she’s in when Dina left her.

So instead, she’s trying to avoid the confrontation. She’s used to running away from everything. Ellie figured out that it’s best to just put the problems in a box and throw it away without fixing all of the unsolved issues. And when those things that she’s steering away from starts haunting her, Ellie would just do what she’s best.

And that’s to run.

Run until she’s tired. Until she can’t any more.

And what happens in the end?

That’s the thing that Ellie doesn’t know how to answer.

“I’ve been married for 70 years already?” The old lady laughed. Ellie looked at her. “And you know, I was just like you on the wedding day. I am full of doubts because marriage is not a joke. You’d be tied with the other person for years, even eternity. And I don’t like that. I want freedom, I want liberty, and marriage is such a scary thing for a young lady.” The lady picked up Ellie’s tie and started to fix it on her neck. “An hour before I walked to the altar, I wanted to run away.” She looked up at her eyes. “Do you?”

Ellie gulped.

Do I want that?

The old lady laughed again. “Ah.” She nodded. “Your hesitation gave me the answer. You see, either you walk away right now, or get married, it’s still a decision that will create a series of consequences. You just have to think whether it’ll be good or bad.” She finished the tie and left Ellie in front of the full length mirror. “My marriage advice is don’t let your anger or hate become more powerful than your love for her.”

“You’re wrong. I don’t love her.” Ellie looked at her.

“Then why are you still here?” She smiled kindly before excusing herself to go to the bathroom, leaving Ellie alone in the room.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Every little step of yours towards her feels like the sweetest torture one could bear. Ellie felt that her heart would burst out into many pieces as you were getting closer and closer. You, on the other hand, felt so much more.

When Joel asked Ellie about her vows, she said she didn’t prepare anything. And while that might seem true, Ellie was actually lying. In fact, for all the hours that she spent wondering and thinking last night, she sat up on her bed while gripping a piece of paper and a pen while looking at your sleepy figure.

This is the first time that both of you slept in bed together, and Ellie was wondering that even in your sleeping state, it is with no doubt that you still radiate gentleness. Maybe you could give her some?

With shaky hands, Ellie gripped the microphone to say her vows. Both of you were staring right at each other's eyes, not wanting to look away – afraid that one of you would disappear if you did so.

“I always thought that I am the most difficult person in the world. And maybe I am.” She exhaled. “I always thought that finding someone who will love someone like me who has her heart shattered into pieces was just a chance encounter. A cupid’s luck, maybe. But I never thought that it would be you. I am a complex jigsaw puzzle that’s so hard to complete. While others may have thought of giving up, you, however, stayed. Still, I am fragmented. Pieces of me weren’t even there, or are completely gone. But you showed me that I can still be loved even if I am so broken. That you made me feel special even though I am imperfect. And for that, I promise to love you forever and ever.”

You almost struggled to smile as you were trying not to let a single tear fall.

That is not real, you thought.

But you wished it was. Oh, how beautiful it is to be loved by Ellie.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Ellie’s hands are still cold and shaking while she’s slowly pulling up your veil. Both of you smiled at each other before she hesitatingly enveloped you into a warm kiss. Every guest is tearing up while they are celebrating the marriage that is not even real.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Today was Sunday, which means that you and Ellie will have your weekly grocery shopping. You two have been wed four months ago and you could say that both of your relationship with each other is doing great.

Really, it is.

You’re surprised that Ellie took an initiative to apologize for every shitty thing that she’s done to you, whether it is intentionally or not. At your honeymoon, Ellie tried her best to show you that she’s capable of changing – from being such a jackass, to a great wife. You two are getting along really well, talking at each other frequently as the awkward tension in the air is released. Both of you are eating together, having dates in different places, and traveling everywhere.

“I hate when you’re purposely trying to carry every grocery bag even though I know you’re struggling.” You rolled your eyes while you and Ellie were walking towards the car.

“I don’t want to make a princess carry a thing.” Ellie teasingly nudged you and it takes so many forces not to crack out a smile.

While the both of you were walking, you two saw a familiar face. You gulped and Ellie didn’t know what to feel.

Or she did not know if she even felt anything.

“Oh, hey. Funny seeing you two here.” She smiled while her eyes were looking at you back and forth. You two stopped in front of her.

“Hey Dina.” You greeted her. Ellie did not utter a single word.

To be honest, Dina was still in shock when she first heard that Ellie is getting married, just a few months after she stepped foot in Jackson again. And hearing that she’s going to be married to you, the town’s favorite girl, made her really insecure.

They both ended up in a bad light, and Dina wished that she could get some sort of any closure, up until now. But asking that with Ellie was just her being too much. Clearly, the moment you two shared your vows, and kissed each other in front of the altar was the answer that she has been looking for so many months.

But it isn’t enough. It wasn’t. The pain she felt the day of your wedding made her weak and furious. She wanted to get Ellie back, no matter how pathetic she looked while doing it, but at the same time, she wanted to just let go and forget everything, or to start over. And that’s what she did. She tried everything she could to move on. But right now, looking at the two of you, Dina’s heart was shattered into pieces again. Especially now that she can see how real it was.

“Hey, Y/N.” She said, looking at you. Dina felt her eyes getting bloodshot as her throat was slowly aching from trying to stop her tears from falling. She looked again at Ellie… who’s staring at you.

Almost two years have passed and it is the first time Dina has seen Ellie up this close. She’s just used to getting a glimpse from her in different bars and clubs in Jackson, and Dina never got the chance to look at her like this. Ellie is still the same, just a bit more mature looking but her eyes are different.

It was now soft and gentle.

“Ellie,” Dina called and that’s when she slowly turned her eyes away from you. “Sorry to ask this but can… can we talk?” She uttered, almost like a whisper.

“I’ll just get in the car.” You politely excused yourself but Ellie caught your hand before you quickly got away from her.

“Y/N-”

“It’s fine.” You smiled at Ellie who looked at you with a concerned face. “It’s fine.” You repeated before squeezing her hand.

Slowly, Ellie let you go. But she did not want to.

Instead, she just followed your figure who’s walking towards the car, just near the back of Dina.

“How are you?” Dina pulled her gaze away from you. “I mean, how’s married life?” She chuckled.

“We’re both doing great.” Ellie answered.

Dina nodded. “I’m glad to hear that. Really.”

Ellie nodded too before looking where you are again. Her grip at the grocery bags tightened when she saw you talking to a very familiar figure. It’s like every single thing that Dina is saying is just a background noise, and Ellie couldn’t understand a thing.

“Abby!” You greeted a friend.

The girl looked at you while smiling before you two shared a hug. “You looked different now, but you’re still very beautiful.” She said before looking at you.

“And so are you.” You complimented her. You almost did not recognize Abby because the one you've been friends with since you were just a kid are very different from the Abby in front of you now. She got so much taller, and her physique got bigger.

“I’m sorry that I did not get to attend your wedding. I’ve been busy in New York, attending seminars and everything.” She jiggled her keys.

Ellie watched you and Abby talk. She lightly craned her neck – an indication that she’s getting irritated as she caught you two laughing.

What the fuck is she doing here? Why is she making you laugh so fucking hard???

“Ellie? Ellie!”

“Fuck. Sorry.” Ellie shut her eyes tightly. “What were you saying again?”

Dina looked at where Ellie was looking.

It was you and Abby.

Dina could tell that Ellie is getting mad.

“JJ’s birthday will be tomorrow. That's why I’m going to do some huge grocery shopping. You two should go-”

Ellie nodded quickly. “I’ll ask my wife. Excuse me.” She said before marching towards you quickly.

“Oh, there she is.” You said, smiling at Ellie. “Ellie, this is Abby. Abby, this is-”

“Ellie.” Abby grinned widely. “Yeah, we knew each other.”

“Very well.” Ellie’s jaw tightened.

“Really? How?” You are looking at the two of them. Now, you’re not the smartest person on the earth, but you’re not that dumb. They definitely did not like each other.

“We’re schoolmates. I’ll tell you everything when we have dinner.” Ellie looked at you.

“Or you could just ask me.” Abby chuckled, fully taunting your wife. “Anyway, nice meeting you guys again but I have to go. Bye, Y/N, bye, Ellie.”

Ellie rolled her eyes before cursing under her breath.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Ellie and you are in the kitchen, you are washing the dishes that you two just ate, and Ellie is the one who’s putting the groceries away. She’s been really quiet the whole drive home, and even up until now. You were looking at her each second, trying to decipher how to talk to her, or even ask her what was wrong.

“How’d you know Abby?” Ellie suddenly asked.

Your head snapped at her. You squint your eyes. Oh, right. Abby.

You cleared your throat. “Well, her dad has been our family doctor ever since we were kids. Abby and I became friends because of that. We basically grew up with each other. But when her father died last year, Abby moved to New York to study biology. How about you? From what I’m guessing with your interaction, you two didn’t get along well.”

“You’re right. You know I played football, right?” Ellie asked, and you nodded. “Well, I was the team captain for our course – engineering. Aside from that, I was also a part of the university’s varsity team. Both of us were. I met Abby there when we were freshmen and she loves to get on my nerves.”

“How?”

“Every time there’s an intramural, when engineering and biology are competing with each other, Abby is my greatest rival because she would boast and annoy me every single game. And when she got accepted into the varsity team, I was forced to train with her and everyday that I wake up, I would rather just die and go to hell than be with her all day.” Ellie grunted. “I thought she was just doing that for attention, not until I found out that her crush likes me.”

You snorted. “Then what did you do?”

“Nothing. I just made fun of her.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re mean.”

“I know, babe. I’m not sorry.” Ellie shrugged.

“Did you find out who it was? Abby’s crush?”

“No… why wouldn’t you know that? I thought she’s your best friend?” Ellie rolled her eyes.

“She never said anything about it.” You thought. Yeah, Abby never opened up something about her crush.

Ellie stared at you. Hard. Her brows are slowly furrowing as she thinks about something.

Did Abby have a crush on… you?

You cleared your throat once again. “So…” You went beside Ellie. “What did Dina say to you earlier?”

Ellie sighed. “JJ’s birthday is tomorrow and Dina wants us to go.” She looked at you. “But if you don’t want to-”

“Ellie, it’s fine. It’s JJ we’re talking about.”

“I don’t want you to become uncomfortable.”

You took Ellie’s hands and smiled at her. Ellie’s heart stopped for a second. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

As much as Ellie wanted to, she can’t help but think of you every single moment. Her thoughts are filled with you, as well as her decisions are tied with you. Ellie did not want to hurt you in some ways, mostly because she’s warming up to you. But on the other hand, it might be good to finally see JJ after a year and more. After all, he’s just like her son to her.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“I’m so glad you two could make it.” Dina greeted when she spotted the two of you. Her enthusiasm was genuine, really. All she wanted was her son’s happiness, and that is to meet Ellie again.

“Here’s a gift for JJ.” You handed her a gift bag which Dina accepted immediately.

“Thank you so much. You don’t have to.”

“Well, we can’t come empty handed.” You smiled before looking at Ellie who whispered at you.

“Is it okay if I go to JJ or do you want to come with me?” She asked and you shook your head.

“I’m okay.” You answered gently.

Dina watched the two of you talk. The familiar ache in her chest starts showing up again but she couldn’t help but to smile even though it hurts her so bad. A voice at the back of her head started to whisper bitter things that she couldn’t brush off.

Dina and Ellie broke up because she didn't want to settle with her. Ellie got scared of leaving Jackson, got married with her, and to live peacefully – like a true happy family. But after a year, Ellie did everything that Dina never got to experience. With a different girl.

Dina couldn’t help but ask herself if she was the problem. Maybe she didn’t think of everything that could happen when she asked Ellie to do those things. Maybe she became irrational and impulsive. Maybe Dina only thinks with her feelings.

If she waited for a year, would Ellie say yes to her?

“I’ll just go to JJ.” Ellie interrupted her thoughts. “Is that fine?”

Dina smiled widely. “He’s waiting for you all night. He’s probably at the house, you can find them in there.”

Ellie nodded before squeezing your hand, letting you know that she’s going to go find him. Dina caught a glimpse of it and gulped.

When Ellie went away, you two awkwardly stared at each other for a couple of minutes. You did not know what to say to your wife’s first love. To say that Dina is pretty is just an understatement. She radiates a beautiful energy which makes everybody love her. You could see why Ellie was crazy for her, and that made you envious.

“If I ever become too pushy with Ellie and JJ thingy, you could refuse to go.” Dina started.

You shook your head. “I think it’s only fair. I mean, JJ grew up with her and I’m not going to stop them from seeing each other.”

Dina nodded while smiling. There it goes again, the awkward silence between you two. You wanted to excuse herself to go somewhere because you cannot bear the tension in the air. But on the other hand, you wanted to just stay with Dina to prove that you aren’t affected by her presence. That you aren’t going to be phased by her being Ellie’s ex-girlfriend. And you could tell that she feels the same way, too.

Your brows knitted when you spotted a familiar figure going out of a car again. It’s Abby, holding a gift bag on her right hand while jiggling her keys on her left. She’s wearing a suit and her hair is tied at the back.

“You know Abby?” You looked at Dina while squinting your eyes.

“Oh… yeah.” Dina chuckled. “We were close in highschool and she’s one of JJ’s godmother.”

Abby spotted the two of you before waving. She’s walking towards the both of you while smiling, at the same time that Ellie is striding towards your direction with JJ.

Her irritation grew once again when Abby showed up. She truly forgot that Dina made her one of his godmother. It’s so stupid that it made Ellie want to punch Abby in her face.

JJ immediately ran to Dina and Ellie quickly went beside you, snaking her tattooed arm on your waist as Abby stood in front of you two.

Abby handed JJ the gift bag which he immediately opened. Everyone watched him as he unboxed it.

“A robot toy!” JJ squealed.

“What do you say to Ms. Abby?” Dina asked.

“Thank you!” JJ hugged Abby’s legs before running away as quickly as possible. Wanting to brag to his friends about his new favorite toy.

Dina laughed. “He’s so energetic. By the way, thank you for the gift. You shouldn’t even be bothered. I know you were so busy.”

Abby only shrugged. “It’s fine. Maybe it’ll be the last time that I’m giving him something, right?”

Everyone laughed except Ellie who grew more irritated when you found her corny ass joke funny. She rolled her eyes because of that.

“I know I always ask this when we see each other but… why are you still single?” Dina asked.

Abby just laughed hard before quickly taking a glance at you. Now, in your perspective, it meant absolutely nothing. But in Ellie’s eyes, it answers everything.

FUCK!

IT WAS YOU, ALL ALONG.

Ellie’s grip in your waist got tighter.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

As soon as you and Ellie got out of the car when you two got home, she has been annoying you and bombarding you with so many irrelevant questions of everything that has happened in highschool. Such as “did you tell someone if you got a crush on her”, “did Abby know about your crush,” blah blah blah.

She’s so weird throughout the ride that you couldn’t help but to stare at her ridiculously.

“Why did you want to know?” You asked her back, your shyness started creeping up when she kept bringing the past. Yes, you did tell someone that you got a crush on the football’s team captain – Ellie. And that someone was Abby. And why is Ellie asking you this was still a mystery because she wouldn’t answer it. It’s getting annoying.

Ellie started walking behind you, slightly gripping one of your belt holes as you two walked inside the room. She’s being really paranoid about something. It’s like there’s an itch in her brain and a huge discomfort in her veins that made her want to get information about you and Abby.

I mean, it made sense. All of it. Abby probably went back to Jackson when she heard that you got married. And for what? She couldn’t get you. She just wont.

“Okay, okay.” Ellie surrendered when she could tell that you’re starting to ask her questions about why she’s fishing out information about Abby. Her hands softly gripped your waist and she gently turned you to face her. Ellie’s heart almost jumped when you looked at her straight in the eye. She squeezed your skin before talking. “Last question. Did you… ever like Abby?”

You laughed so hard, as if Ellie just asked the dumbest question in the world. Well, she probably did. Your hands gripped her arms to gain balance but you couldn’t stop laughing which made Ellie look at you in amusement. A small smile starts to creep up in her face when your giggles are infecting her.

“What’s funny?”

“You!” You wiped a tear at the corner of your eye. “Really? Where did that come from?”

“I don’t know!” Ellie shrugged. “I was just…curious. She looked really into you. I could tell.”

“She’s not. Trust me. And if she does, I don’t think I can reciprocate her feelings.”

“Why?” “Ellie…” You chuckled. “You’re the only one I ever wanted, okay?” You shut your eyes in embarrassment. “Don’t make me say that again.” You said before quickly turning your back on her.

Ellie stood there, her gaze following as you ascended in the stairs. There it goes again, the familiar warmth on her heart that almost made her unable to stand up straight nor even make her brain function. All she thinks about right now is you. You. You. Just you. Always you.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Tonight is the year end party, an annual celebration for townies in Jackson and is held by your father. This day is important for everyone as it serves as a fun night to get away from the problems of life. Everyone gets drunk with unlimited booze, dances the worries away, and socializes with each other.

You and Ellie arrived at the plaza that is now filled with decorations, buffets, dancing lights and loud music. People started to make their way at the venue while wearing their finest suits and dresses. Ellie wore her usual formal attire – black trousers, a blazer and a button down shirt with the first three buttons opened to show the gold chain that is hanging on her neck. Her auburn hair is tied into a nice half up bun, accentuating her features. You, however, just wore your nice black satin mini dress, paired with gold stilettos and gold jewelries that complimented your skin tone.

Ellie couldn’t stop looking at you even when she’s driving the car. Yes, you two could get into an accident since she was so distracted by you. But can you blame her? A beautiful girl is sitting on the front passenger seat, and all she could do is to let her ringed fingers sit on your exposed thigh. God knows that Ellie wanted to do more than that.

“Ah! My daughters.” Joel greeted, enveloping the two of you in a tight hug. He handed Ellie a glass of whiskey which she accepted, quickly gulping it in just one shot. “How’s married life?” Joel asked. “I was so busy at the barn that I couldn’t stop by your house.” He looked at Ellie. “You looked great, by the way.”

“I know.” Ellie answered. “Well, we’re doing just fine.” Ellie shut her eyes tightly. “Ah, no, we’re doing great.”

You placed your hand at Ellie’s shoulder. “You okay?”

Ellie almost jumped at the physical contact. She blushed profusely, she thanked everyone who put the LED lights in here because it hides her freckled cheek that is now beet red. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” She chuckled nervously. God, you’re really pretty. So pretty. “I just needed another booze.”

You nodded, fully agreeing because you thought that Ellie was just getting anxious about the questions. “Yeah, you should get some by the bar.”

Ellie nodded. “Do you want to drink, Joel?” She asked him and he quickly agreed. Saying that he’s been waiting for her the whole time for them to get drunk again together like old times. Ellie bid her goodbyes to you, saying that she’ll find you later. You nodded, making your way in the direction where your friends are.

You and Ellie have been away from each other for almost three hours now. You spent the whole night drinking wine, and talking to your friends about every gossip that is happening in the town. Those stories made you really immersed, especially when your friend Evie, has been telling it with actions mixed with funny words.

“Heya!” Abby’s voice came from your behind.

“Abby!” You greeted her with a hug. “Want a drink?” You offered and she nodded immediately. Sitting at the empty chair beside you, Abby greeted your mutual friends at the table. She couldn’t be happier when Ellie wasn’t near you.

Ellie, on the other hand, has been sitting in the bar stool, drinking whiskey with such quickness as she started to gather her thoughts. Joel is sitting beside her, telling so many stories that she can’t even quite comprehend since her mind is only filled by you.

And Abby.

And Dina.

And you again.

FUCKKK DOES SHE LIKE YOU NOW? WHAT ABOUT THE ‘NO FALLING IN LOVE RULE’ THAT SHE MADE?!

So, she does what she did the best: drink. Drink until she can’t walk, nor even form any coherent thoughts because she must be going insane, right? The two of you aren’t real. Yes, she may consider you as her friend but she can’t fall in love with you. Ellie is a mess. She’s afraid to break you, too.

“Hey.” Someone pulled her out from her thoughts. Dina sat beside her and Ellie craned her neck to see where Joel went. He probably got tired of talking with a brick wall for hours so he decided to leave her alone. And Ellie didn’t even notice.

“Can we talk?” Dina asked.

Ellie shooked her head before drinking another shot. “We have nothing to talk about, Dina.” Ellie dismissed her. It’s true, though. They need to stop interacting with each other because they don’t have anything to do with each other.

Besides, Ellie doesn’t want to have another buzz of rumors to circulate between her and Dina, especially now that she is married. Even if your marriage is not real, Ellie cared for you as her true friend. “Please, just this once, Ellie. And I’ll stop.” Dina looked at her with pleading eyes.

“Dina, we’re done. I don’t want my wife to think of anything bad.” Ellie said, her voice rising as she can feel the irritation seeping through her veins.

Dina looked at her, tears welling with eyes. “My wife?” She chuckled sarcastically, as if she couldn’t believe anything that Ellie was saying. “You like her now, Els? Really? I thought it wasn’t real. Please tell me it wasn’t real!”

“Fuck it!” Ellie shut her eyes tightly before gripping Dina’s arm. She dragged her to the plaza’s secluded area. “You really want to fight while everyone’s looking, huh?”

“I just want to talk to you.” Dina immediately clung on Ellie. Her hands finding hers but Ellie immediately pulled away. Looking at her disgustingly.

Dina cried hard. She looked pathetic right now but she couldn’t care. “Tell me that you don’t like her. I have known you for years, Ellie. You wouldn’t marry so easily. Especially not with her.”

“The fuck are you saying?” Ellie asked, her tone is now angrier. “We haven’t talked for years. I’ve changed, Dina. What the fuck is wrong with you?!”

Dina knows that she was spewing nonsense. Hell, she couldn’t even recognize her own voice right now. She knew that what she was doing was wrong, but she couldn’t stop herself. Dina hadn't slept for a day, and the only thing in her system was alcohol. She spent the morning through the afternoon without eating. She couldn’t even find the courage to cook something. It’s like the thought of Ellie falling in love with someone else hit her. That it is real. Everyone might think that their marriage is just fake, that there wasn’t a love circulating between the two. But Dina knew what she saw. Ellie loves you.

But in a desperate move, Dina gripped Ellie’s blazer on both of her hands, pulling her ex-girlfriend in a kiss. Ellie’s eyes widened, feeling her heartbeat tripling but it wasn’t in a positive way. Not the same kind of nervousness when you’re around. This was different. Ellie hates it.

Ellie immediately pushed Dina so hard that she stumbled onto the ground. Dina remained in that position, biting her lips to prevent herself from crying loudly. Ellie became furious, the booze she drank earlier was now long gone. She looked at Dina with disbelief and with so much anger. She feels like she would explode. But before Ellie could say anything, she heard someone at her back.

“What the fuck?” Abby asked loudly. Beside her was you, looking at Ellie and then back to Dina. You couldn’t move a limb as your whole body tensed. You can feel yourself getting pale and cold while tears are welling up your eyes. Abby immediately went to help Dina get up.

Ellie breathed loudly as she saw your state. “Baby…” She immediately went up to you, holding both of your cold hands into hers. Ellie moved the stay hairs away from your face before cupping your cheeks with both of your hands. Ellie kept holding your gaze but it was focused on Dina only.

“Is she okay?” You asked, even though you fully know what happened.

Ellie shut her eyes tightly. This cannot be happening. Fuck fuck fuck.

“Don’t worry about her, baby, please.” Ellie said, almost begging. At last, you looked at her eyes and Ellie felt like her heart was squeezing when she saw the tears that almost want to roll down your face.

“Ellie, she kissed you.” You asked, breathlessly.

“That doesn’t mean anything.” Ellie assured you. “I can explain.”

“Ellie, Y/N, I’m sorry.” Dina wailed loudly. Her words are slurry as Abby struggles to keep her by her feet. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to.” She kept on repeating.

Ellie looked at her with a pure disgusted face. “Dude, keep her away from here. My wife and I will talk.” She said, and Abby couldn’t do anything but to nod and keep on dragging her away from you two.

Abby looked at you and you nodded as a sign that it’s okay. You were looking for Ellie since you saw that she wasn’t at the bar. And Joel said that he left her an hour ago. You have no idea where she went and Abby offered to join you. Both of you decided to check behind the plaza since it was the only place that you two hadn’t looked at. And out of all the chances, you and Abby saw Dina kissing Ellie. And the next moment, she’s on the ground when Ellie pushed her.

When Dina and Abby were out of your sight, you looked at Ellie.

You gulped. “You pushed her.”

“She kissed me, and I don’t want to do that. I don’t want her to kiss me.” Ellie’s grip on your hands tightened.

Your gaze fell down, feeling a lot more confused than hurt. “But why? I thought you still liked her?”

Ellie immediately shook her head. And you looked at her, confused. “I never said that.”

“But I can feel it.”

“Then you’re wrong, okay?” Ellie said, her voice slightly rising. “If you have a lot of questions, I don’t think I have the answer for it. If you’re confused, just know that I am, too.” Ellie shut her eyes tightly again.

“Do you want to have a divorce?” You asked, asking the question hurted you a lot harder than you thought it would. Ellie’s eyes shot open. “I can make an arrangement. My father can-”

Ellie shook her head frantically. It was now the turn for her eyes to well up in tears. Her body ran cold and she could feel the nervous beat of her heart ringing up her ears.

“No, no, no,” She said, still shaking her head.

“One word and I’ll-”

“NO!” Ellie shouted. “I don’t want to! Fuck! Don’t leave me. Please don’t leave me, Y’N.” Her gaze fell down as her tears kept streaming down her face. “Please. I beg.” Ellie whispered shakily.

“Ellie…” You called gently.

“I beg you. Please. Stay.”

And you did one thing that you wanted to do for the very first time. You kissed her hard. Ellie’s eyes widened for a second but she immediately answered your kisses with longing, passion, and love. If the right words can't find her own tongue, maybe her lips will.

“I love you.” Ellie whispered.

You smiled. “I love you more, my wife.”

——————-

taglist: @machetegirl109 @p4ison1vy

#ellie williams fanfic #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams x reader angst #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #abby anderson #dina tlou

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skzdarlings · 11 months

Text

part vi: bodyguard!felix x reader

masterlist.

PART I ; PART II ; PART III ; PART IV ; PART V ; PART VI ; PART VII ; PART VIII ; PART IX ; FINAL PART.

( READ ON AO3. )

Your father hires an inconspicuous bodyguard to accompany you at school and supervise you at home. What seems like an innocuous change in routine eventually spirals into a forbidden romance that grows more passionate over the years.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: smut. violence. parental abuse. situations of intense peril overall. forced proximity. enemies2lovers. angst with eventual happy ending. (chapter word count; 9500 words)

Graduation approaches. There will be a ceremony in the afternoon then a dinner and dance, hosted in a hotel ballroom. It is nothing so luxurious as your father’s soirees, but it is a milestone that should be filled with meaning and memory.

You do not go.

You close this chapter of your life while vowing to never forget a moment of it. Jisung and Hyunjin both impacted your life for the better. Though you will not put them in danger by association, you hope they will find happiness. They will both be better in the long run.

You look at Felix and wish you could grant such a freedom to everyone.

You let yourself mope for a few days and Felix does not intervene, only checking in now and again to see if you need anything. You have not talked about what transpired between you, but that was to be expected even without any distractions.

He extends comfort in a platonic sense at best, more professional than ever with how he hovers in your periphery, ensuring you are safe but never crossing a line. He will embrace you when you have a nightmare, but he is much more stiff than he used to be. He does not touch you with his gentle caresses, only holds you with a perfunctory grasp. You think if this entire ordeal with Jisung had not happened, then he would have stopped altogether by now.

The night of the graduation, you sleep restlessly and wake in an emotional fit. You stare at Felix across the bed, your tumultuous emotions flickering between sadness, anger, and longing. You don’t know what to do, and it isn’t fair, and you want him so badly.

You dig your fist into the mattress and press your face into the pillow, fighting down a scream. Your shuffling wakes Felix who whispers your name. He moves closer then reaches the rest of the way, touching the back of your head.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“No,” you say, muffled. You thump your fist against the mattress. “I hate you,” you say, because you don’t hate him at all. He’s all you have left yet it does not suffice to say there is only Felix, because even if you had a world of options you would still want him. He is singular in both charm and peculiarity. You do not hate him, but the threshold of the opposite looms with a terrifying danger for you both. What happened with Jisung would be miniscule in comparison to the consequences of this affair.

You know that, and yet.

You want to close this space for good. You want to throw caution to the wind and indulge your most romantic desires. You want him to want it too.

“Do you hate me?” you ask, turning your face but not meeting his eye.

“I—” He clears his throat. “I’m just… doing my job. I can’t have feelings one way or, uhh, another.”

“That’s not a no,” you say, lifting your gaze to his. He is propped up on one arm, staring down at you, blonde hair in a dishevelled mess around his face. His gaze drifts and you feel you are losing him. “Felix…” you say, imploringly.

“You have no idea,” he suddenly says, his tone almost vicious. “No idea… what it does to me when you—when you—when you look… at me… like that.” He falls onto his back and covers his face with both hands.

He always looks so skinny in his baggy sleep shirts, all sharp lines jutting out of the fabric. It completes his lie: the too-happy, naïve boy who is all smiles all the time, with nothing to see beyond the surface. No one would guess what he is capable of doing. Even you had not fully realized the breadth of his person until you witnessed it with your own eyes.

His mind seems to be following a similar path because he says, “You saw me kill someone.” He rubs his forehead like a migraine is settling there. “You shouldn’t look at me like you do. You shouldn’t—I don’t understand—how you’re not ever afraid—of him—of me—”

“I’m always afraid,” you whisper the admittance. You continue to look at him even while he stares up at the ceiling, his arms crossed protectively over his chest. “Just not of you,” you say.

He closes his eyes. He breathes out through his nose.

“You’re supposed to be,” he says. “That’s why I—that’s why I exist, yeah? I was raised to be this… thing. People are supposed to be afraid when they see who I am. Even your father is scared of me. And if he didn’t—if he didn’t have me on this—this fucking leash—” He sits upright, practically snarling as he speaks. Only experience in tempering his emotions brings him back down to calm, simply glaring across the room through the dark.

You wait to see if he will say more, your attention caught by what he let slip. Even your father is afraid of him, despite having him lashed to a tether of some kind. You want to know more, but you do not want to take what he does not willingly give, even though you know he will answer any question if you push. He made that promise a long time ago.

You are both almost nineteen. You have spent a quarter of your lives together. Those years, his present, and his future are all ensnared, and you cannot find it in yourself to forcibly rip his past away too.

You sit upright as well. He still does not look at you, gaze faraway. You twist the blankets in your lap, itching to reach out and smooth back a messy strand of his hair.

“You’re not just a thing to me,” you say.

“I know,” he says softly, still looking to the side. “Sometimes I wish I was just a thing.” He tips his head, staring into the distance as if he can see a memory playing out in the dark. “Sometimes I wish… it was that easy. That I could… put it all somewhere. Stop feeling. Stop being. That’s what I was supposed to be. If I could—if I did—I wouldn’t be here at all. But also…”

He trails off and his mind drifts. You tug at the blanket again.

“But also?” you ask.

His head turns to you, though his gaze is lowered, down to your fidgeting fingers.

“But…also…” he says. “I wouldn’t want that. If I had never… been someone. If I had never known…someone…”

He meets your gaze now. He has not looked at you with such direct intensity in days and it feels like basking in the sun after so much shadow. Your expression must return a similar ardor because his lips part with a deep exhale, his body instinctively tipping towards yours like it so often does. He maintains enough mental faculty not to fall all the way, holding himself back, only looking at your face. He lingers on your mouth.

“I understand,” you say, tingling with the effect of his gaze, tangible as a kiss.

“Yeah?” he says, his voice rough.

You feel a bit fuzzy, distracted with the energy between you. You only loosely cling to your own train of thought but you manage to say, “Yes. Making sense of the good in the bad. Both shaping who you are. The people you know… changing you for the better.”

“Jisung,” Felix says, ruminating on your words. Then a flicker of displeasure creases his brow as a thought occurs to him. “Hyunjin,” he says. “They were both… part of your good.”

“Yes,” you say, watching him pull away into his own mind.

“You liked Hyunjin a lot,” Felix says, clearing his throat. “I didn’t—I wasn’t sure—”

You roll your eyes even while a smile breaks onto your face. There is something so charmingly childish about the clear jealously that is suddenly plaguing him. It isn’t dangerous dramatics or dark pasts – just one boy glaring at the recollection of you dating another boy.

You push the blankets off your lap and move so you are kneeling at his side. He looks away but that is fine, because you tuck his hair behind his ear and lean in to whisper, “I didn’t like Hyunjin half as much as I hate you.”

He clenches his jaw. His shoulder twitches with a little shiver. A smile tugs at his lips.

“Oh,” he says. “All right.”

“All right,” you repeat in a mockingly deep voice. “That’s his reply – all right. This is why I hate you.”

“Mmm?” He tips his head, smiling at you. “Is it?”

You feel flushed. You sit back again, poking at the covers. “Among other things,” you say.

He laughs but tries not to, the result a very low chuckle that he unsuccessfully tries to hide behind his hand. You shove his shoulder. He sways dramatically like it was a hard hit. He is still chuckling when you lay back down, arms stubbornly crossed.

He lays on his side and props his head in his hand. There is space between you but you can touch his face with a simple stretch. You trace your fingertips down his jaw and it smooths out his laughter, expression softer. Your heart is thundering when you touch his lips, just a light touch. It should be inconsequential when you consider what you have already done, but it feels substantial as anything else. You wonder if this sensation will ever lessen.

He takes your wrist and moves your hand, his breath fluttering over your fingertips. He swallows hard.

“I’m a bad person,” he says. “I’m not supposed to care about being bad. But I do.”

“You’re not a bad person,” you say. “Because of the things they make you do? How can you say that?” From the moment he walked into your life, Felix has done everything in his limited power to provide relief. You did not always appreciate it, but it did not stop his efforts.

“I am,” he says. “I’m selfish. I let myself forget… so many things… when you look at me.” He lays down on his back, curling one arm under his head. “You know, I’ve been trained to withstand torture,” he says, casually despite the ripple of horror that moves through you. “But they didn’t prepare me for, uhh, you doing that… thing with your eyelashes, when you want something. Or when you, you know, stick out your lip like this—”

He pouts and it makes you laugh despite everything.

“I don’t do that,” is all you can say.

“Sure,” he says, with a little smile and eye-roll. “It’s more effective than a bullet. That’s all I’m saying.”

“Duly noted,” you say dryly. “You know for such a well-trained whatever-you-are, you just made a pretty dumb mistake.”

“Oh?”

You roll onto your front so the lengths of your bodies are pressing along the side. You rest your chin in the cup of your hand and smile your most innocent smile.

“Yes,” you say. “It isn’t very smart to tell an enemy your weaknesses like that.”

“My enemy,” he says like the word amuses him, corners of his lips ticked up. He moves quickly, leaning into your space so surely that you can feel his breath fan your lips. “Is that what you are, then? My job. My enemy.” He laughs the word, then whispers with a teasing smirk, “And my sweetheart.”

“Sworn enemies,” you somehow manage without even a stutter. You take his teasing further and say, “You can even tell my daddy. That’s your job, isn’t it?”

“That isn’t a joke,” he says, tone serious though his soft expression betrays him.

“Who’s joking?” you say. “We’re just two enemies, sharing a bed. I hate you, and you—”

“Yes?” He has a cocky look on his face, playful as it is. “What do I do?”

You narrow your eyes in a theatrical glare, then you just smile.

“You...” Your voice comes softly, your knuckles brushing his jaw. “You know what it feels like to be inside me.”

Your heart thumps erratically at his drastic shift in expression, the laughter replaced with shock then obvious vexation, dark eyes slanting in warning. You just smile like it is of no concern to you at all.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you murmur. “I’m just saying. Sweetheart.”

You roll away, leaving space between you again. You wriggle your hips more than necessary and your shirt predictably rucks up, your shorts similarly loose and high around your thighs.

Your heart is still racing even though you got the last word in. You breathe to centre yourself.

Then he grabs you by the neck and tugs you back across the bed. It is a showy demonstration but a gasp bursts past your lips, your hand instinctively clutching his sturdy hand. It is your turn to be beyond surprised when he presses right up against you from behind.

“Don’t play games that have no winner,” he speaks into your ear.

“Who’s playing?” you reply, grinding back against him.

He exhales, an exasperated sound that has you giggling. You yelp when he rolls you onto your front, all but planting your face in a pillow before abruptly letting you go. You lift your head as he swings out of the bed.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“The bathroom,” he says. “Don’t try to leave or I’ll tell your father, yeah?”

He is grinning with his victorious retreat. His alleged training is good enough that he dodges the pillow you chuck at his head.

Your father returns home the next day. He never had any intention of attending your graduation, agreeing with his own late father’s assertion that a high school graduation was a juvenile joke celebrating mediocrity.

Felix already reported that you did not attend so there is nothing more to say on the matter. The subject of graduation merely broaches the topic of post-secondary education. He calls you into his office and presents you with a folder detailing the next step of your education. You will attend his alma mater, a prestigious university that did not require your application as he most certainly just paid for your admittance.

“And,” he says, “I am generously giving you one more opportunity to prove you are not the unfledged adolescent you have insisted on presenting.”

This opportunity is online summer classes to pre-emptively advance your position in the program. As if it matters where you rank in the scheme of things; your life set in stone.

“Fine,” is all you say. The wounds from the incident with Jisung are still fresh so you do not have an argument inside you. It would just be for the sake of itself anyway, as it is not like you have anything better to do with your summer.

You still complain to Felix. You find him in the gym, working up a sweat. A captive audience for your lengthy complaint session.

He runs a self-made obstacle course while you inexpertly pummel a punching bag to let out your frustrations. Eventually he takes a water break and wanders over to you. You crinkle your nose and pretend to be disgusted with his appearance, but in actuality a hot, sweaty Felix reminds you of that cramped car and all the heat between you.

He tips his head back and drinks his water and your eyes follow a drop of sweat as it licks down his neck. You look away when he stops drinking, when he swipes a hand across his forehead.

“Careful,” he says. “You should tape your hands first, yeah? You’ll hurt yourself.”

You slap the punching bag and smirk when he frowns at you.

“Not funny,” he says, and takes your hand to inspect it. He is smiling despite his words. When he catches your eye, he tries to quell it, but his gaze is tender as his touch when he massages your hand. “Just remembering,” he mumbles. “First night here. You and that… what was it? Eggplant?” He shakes his head. “I was, uhhh, not prepared.” He laughs. “I clearly didn’t know what I was getting into.”

“Yes, I’m sure I came across as a very intimidating adversary,” you say dryly.

“Yes.” He laughs, a sharp breath. His eyes flick up to you. “Like no one I’d ever met before.”

You feel bashful under his gaze. You look down at where he is rubbing your hand, so very careful with the amount pressure he applies. It is still hard to reconcile this soft-touched boy with the violence that has evidently puppetted him for all his life. It seems impossible that he could be a cog in that machine, not with hands like this, not with a touch so delicate in its gentle offer of solace.

He mentioned being trained to withstand torture, a training he must have received very young because you met him at fourteen as a fully formed soldier ready to follow orders. To this day, you remember his unblinking neutrality as he pressed the tip of that blade into the back of his hand. Yet now he holds your hand with such loving attention, so much humanity in his affection for someone else, even where people apparently tried to scrub it out of him.

It is too much to think about right now. You pull your hand away and don a faux-haughty air, flicking your wrist at him, fingers wiggling.

“Kiss it better,” you say with a supercilious tone. “Or I’ll tell my dad you let me get injured.”

He blinks at you, maybe perplexed with the sudden shift in tone, but then he just laughs and rolls his eyes.

“Mmm. Right,” he says. But he checks the door is empty then takes your hand. You realize this is a stupid ploy because it backfires the moment his lips brush your knuckles. He looks up at you, his soft bottom lip resting on your skin. Then he straightens, pats your hand, and smiles an annoyingly perfect, professional smile. “There,” he says. “Job well done?”

“As always,” you say, unsteady.

He breaks the tension by stepping away to fetch a towel. He dries his sweaty neck while asking more about your meeting with your father. You start complaining all over again, giving the punching bag another good slap. You rant about his usual tyrannical nonsense, but also complain about the graduation affair.

“They’re usually a big deal, yeah?” Felix asks. He is doing some cool-down exercises and you try to not to stare at him. “Why didn’t he want to go again?”

“Some stupid bullshit he parroted from his father, because he’s never had an original thought in his life,” you say. “It is a celebration of mediocrity. I will only attend your graduation from a valuable institution with an education that has been obtained through true work. As if he’s not paying to get me into university, and as if I won’t be walking out of there with a degree even if I sleep through every exam.”

Felix laughs in a humourless, distracted way. You look over and watch as he swings his water bottle up and catches it again.

“His father, huh?” he says. He shakes the water, absent-minded in his distraction. He walks backwards then takes a seat against the wall where he looks at you again. “This, uhhh, this everything in the family goes back far, huh?”

“Old money,” you say with an eye roll. You cross the room to join him on the floor. “Far enough.”

“Did you know him?”

“Who? My grandfather?” You slide down the wall and sit beside Felix, your shoulders touching. “Yeah, I mean, he died when I was about ten or eleven. You know him too.”

Felix looks at you in bewilderment and you laugh.

“He was the same as my father is now,” you explain. “If you know one, then you know the other.”

“That must have been…” Felix searches for the word but there is very little to sufficiently summarize that household.

“Yeah,” you say with a snort. “It was.” Your grandfather was a tyrant as sure as your father is now. You cannot say if he was worse, being so young when he ruled this household, but you remember he occupied the same untouchable sphere of power. Your grandfather looms in your memory as a grim figure as dark and intimidating as Mister Miroh. He was on the offense at all times, ambitious and striking out at whim. Your father, perhaps in response to his own father’s iron fist, has always acted on the defense, holed up in his castle and building his walls high to seal in everything of value. He attacks in retaliation or proactive defense.

Neither ever permitted being contradicted or disobeyed.

“I see,” Felix says. He looks like he wants to say more, brow still furrowed in contemplation, but then he just sighs and rests his head against the wall. “Are you sad about your graduation?”

“I just hope Hyunjin looked out for Jisung. He’s all I’m sad about.” Picturing your best friend in a corner of a ballroom with no one paying him any attention is too devastating to think about for long, especially knowing about his home life and how alone he felt before you.

You take a steadying breath.

“He just deserved better,” you say.

“So do you,” Felix says, only just above a whisper. He pats your knee and you react predictably, all your nerves alight beneath his hand.

But he does not linger long enough for that warmth to spread. You are not alone, after all. There are footfalls overhead and your father is tucked away in his office.

That night you have a bad dream. It is nothing so terrifying as a nightmare, featuring no guns or tyrant patriarchs. It is just a miserable dream.

You are at your graduation, wearing one of your many evening gowns. There is nothing so special about dressing up given your forced lifestyle, but the party is not about the gown or a date or anything else. You are looking for your friend. That is all you want, but you can’t find Jisung anywhere. You turn many corners, passing through the lengthy shadows of hotel hallways and school corridors, but there is an eerie emptiness to all of it. Finally you find a door, beaten and weathered. You step through knowing there is nothing fancy waiting on the other side of it.

You find yourself on the roof of a ramshackle house. Jisung is perched on the edge, dressed up in a blazer and tie but with his signature backwards cap. He is gazing up at the stars. You sit beside him, filled with so many things you want to say and yet nothing comes out. Time feels warped in your dream and you feel like you sit there for days, months, years, the sky dark, the world quiet.

“I’m sorry,” you finally say.

It feels unreasonable to ask for forgiveness, even if you did not willingly abandon him. You still feel the ache of guilt for having roped him into your life in the first place, but you feel especially guilty for not regretting those years. You do not want to live in a world where you never met him. To have never been someone, to have never known someone.

You know he feels the same way. He said as much during your goodbye.

In the quiet, he hugs you, wrapped up comfortably like that last night at his house.

Somehow that is the moment you become aware it is just a dream, that this is your own mind consoling you, but it is meaningful that your subconscious summons your best friend for that much-needed hug of reassurance.

It seems ridiculous that you, of all people, should think they have the best understanding of love, but perhaps it is the long absence of it that allows you to recognize when you have it. You have witnessed every elaborate gift and gesture in the world, but you are quite certain there is no grander demonstration of love than someone holding you for an hour with no other motive than to simply be there, seeing and being seen.

When you wake, it is with such an ache that you find yourself clutching your chest. Your uneven breathing wakes Felix. The moment he touches your shoulder, you roll into his arms and let yourself cry. He doesn’t ask what it is about, drawing any number of conclusions, but he holds you until your tears turn to sniffles then stop altogether.

You get drowsy in his arms. When he thinks you are asleep, he tries to lay you down on your side of the bed, but you are conscious enough to stir and cling to him. He laughs under his breath.

“Full house,” he whispers. “You need to sleep over there.”

You look at him morosely, blinking back tears. He sighs, letting his head droop, then he gives you a pointed look. You are surprised when he flicks his thumb over your bottom lip, drawing attention to the fact you are pouting.

“Told you,” he whispers.

“Hmmph.”

He rolls away but you follow, wrapping around him like a clingy koala bear. He chuckles and shakes his head, but lays on his back and allows you to rest your head on his chest. You nuzzle under his chin, hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat under your palm. He rests a hand over yours. When he breathes, you watch the rise and fall of those hands.

It is a comforting embrace. This bed has often felt like a world away from reality. You stare at those hands, his kind touch. You cuddle closer, secure with the weight of his arm around you.

It sets your brain in motion, compiling these feelings with everything he has told you and everything he has done.

Before you can stop yourself, before the insanity of such a statement dawns, you say, “Do you think we could make it if we ran away together?”

He goes very still, even his breath slowing. His heart beats a steady staccato under your hand.

“Felix,” you whisper.

“No,” he says, sharply, like the instinctive hiss of pain when unexpectedly struck. He shakes his head, coming back to himself. “No,” he says again, softer. His voice breaks as he lowers it to a whisper. “No, I’m sorry—I’m—I told you—you know it’s not that simple—”

You know he’s right. Felix is obviously very competent but he is still just one man, and your father would not let you slip through his fingers so easily. This is disregarding all the technical logistics of running away, like money and food and a place to sleep.

But a little cabin flashes across your mind and your argumentative side rears itself even though you know better.

“Maybe it is that simple,” you say. “He’s just one man—”

“He’s not just one man,” Felix says, sitting up. You slip through his arms, laying back and watching as he pushes a hand through his hair. “He is his business, and his… his world… and all the men like him…”

“And our lives?” you say. You sit up and put your hand on his back. “You said I deserved better but so do you. You aren’t selfish just because— Stop shaking your head—”

He does but he still looks away, exhaling sharply through his nose.

“It’s not—” He chokes on the word, swallows, then speaks again softly, “It’s not just my life.” He stares across the room, as if once more ensorcelled by some memory playing in the shadows. “Life,” he says, “in pieces and only for a little bit. I always remembered that, you know. That’s how you described it. That’s what I have. Being here. It’s more than—more than what I deserve. And what I—what I get—is a life worth more than mine—”

“Stop saying things like that,” you say miserably. You reach for his face but he turns away. “Do you have any idea,” you say with as much as emotion as you can fit in a whisper, “any idea how much my life has changed because of you, because of the way you are… Felix, you’re part of the good too.”

“You can’t—you can’t say things like that to me—”

“Why not?”

“Because I’ll start to believe you.”

You touch his face and he lets you this time, eyes lifting to yours as you guide his face up. Your thumb brushes that dark constellation of freckles, your eyes searching the face you have woken to every morning for years now – the brown eyes, the dark brows, the wisps of blonde that dash across his forehead. Your thumb brushes the groove to his upper lip, then the bow of his lower lip.

You cup his jaw and tip your head, hoping your gaze reveals the words you cannot conjure. The walls close in around you again. All those nonsensical ideas make their escape, leaving you in the dark with him.

He holds your gaze, his consternation fading to a different sort of ache. Longing carves itself in his features, the disconsolate but nonetheless ardent hunger of someone starving at a table they cannot eat from. He lays his hand over yours, holding it against his face. Eventually he lowers it.

“I didn’t count them,” he says.

“What?” You blink to attention, confused by the seeming subject change. “Count what?”

“The, uhh…” His laugh is dry. He clenches his jaw and looks down at where he is holding your hand. “The people. The people I killed.” He keeps his gaze low, watching as he strokes his thumb across your knuckles. “Others counted them but I—I dunno… I didn’t need to. It comes back to me sometimes, yeah. Hair colours. Clothes. Last words. I didn’t need to… to write it down, to keep track. I just remembered. I still remember.”

Even before you saw him in action, you knew killing was in his past. It still feels different to have those suspicions confirmed, that there was that much violence in his youth, but you are not upset for the reasons he must think. You are only more sympathetic, curling your fingers around his and squeezing.

He won’t look at you.

“Felix,” you say. “You were a kid, and I don’t know where you were, I don’t know what they did to you, but that’s not your fault—”

“I was good at it,” he says. “I was the best. I thought I knew what I was, why I existed. Then things changed. Now I’m not that. I’m not anything else either. I have no right to be, yeah? Do you understand? I can’t walk away. It’s all in me and there’s nowhere to put it down. All I can do is this—this one thing. And honestly, I don’t even know if it is the right thing. I just know that if I go with you, that feels selfish. If I stay here, if I—I keep you trapped here because of me—that’s selfish too—”

“I’m not trapped because of you,” you say. “I would be here either way. If it wasn’t you here with me, it would just be someone else.” So I’m glad it’s you, you want to say, with no obfuscation and no exaggeration.

He interrupts, “I killed your grandfather.”

It is so unexpected that you freeze. You cannot help the way you lock up when truly startled, even if the fright is only momentary. Your body shuts down to protect itself.

Felix withdraws his hand immediately, sensing your coldness. You come back to yourself and look at him, though he still avoids your gaze.

“What?” you eventually manage. “You—”

“He was the target,” Felix says. “They tried to kill him before. Tried, and failed. There were casualties. Like your… like your mother.”

You look away too, chronicling everything he is describing. Your mother died when you were still in infancy and you were never told much more than that. You always thought it might have contributed to your father’s obsessive protection efforts, at least in part, but you could never be sure.

“He was…” Felix says. “He was like a monster, to me, growing up, like a… like a ghost story or something. They told us stories about him and men like him. About how some were so… so powerful… and couldn’t be killed by a regular person… Everything I did—all the killing—was—was justified to me, yeah? And he was the worst of all. And if we could get rid of him, then… then all the other bad would go away too.”

“But it didn’t,” you say, remembering the infallible creature of a man that was your grandfather, the same but different to your father. Things changed when he died, in a way. Your father’s defensive operations are contrary to the offensive strategy of your grandfather, but no less intense in application. You can see how an enemy might have looked at your father, a frightened man always on the defensive, standing in your grandfather’s shadows. You can see how they might have thought the empire might crumble without the iron fist ruling it.

“But it didn’t,” Felix says.

You have questions, so many questions. Was it all Miroh? What happened next? How did Felix end up here? Why does he stay? A million questions fly through your mind. The only one you manage to vocalize is, “Does my father know?”

Felix shakes his head.

The rest of your questions evaporate into nothing. Only a breath passes your lips. Felix is bent over, elbows on knees, shoulders hunched. He is staring at the ground.

“Felix,” you say, reaching for him. “Felix, I don’t blame you for anything.”

Grandfather, father, it’s all the same poison sloshing from the same spoiled glass. You would be here either way, only without Felix, his voice and his hands, his heartbeat under your palm. You cannot imagine the bleakness of that loneliness.

You lay a hand on Felix’s shoulder, wanting to say all this and more but at a complete loss for words.

There is a moment of quiet, then he says, “All this time.” It is barely more than a murmur, face still downturned. “You were right here. And they didn’t care, so I didn’t see you. I didn’t even look.”

You cup his face once more, guiding him upright. He comes without a fight but takes his time, like it is agony to meet your gaze. When those dark eyes locked with yours, a shaking breath leaves his lips, that aching expression returned to his face. You do not know what your own face is doing, all your masks fallen away, leaving something open and raw, wounded but wanting. You swipe your thumb over his cheek, the high point where his freckles cluster darkly, sweeping down to where they dim.

“You’re looking now,” you say.

You slide your hand around his head, into his hair, fingertips fluttering over his nape. He shivers and tips his head, naturally leaning into your touch. You remember seeing the scars that litter his chest, remember feeling the cuts on his back from your own father’s beatings. You remember all the nights he has held you. You remember every little tidbit of your life he has tried to rescue and give back to you despite his precarious position.

You are both in a terrible situation without the tools to truly navigate your way out. There are no rules for a situation like this, every choice a dangerous one. The only thing you know for certain is you are not alone.

“I’m afraid,” you say, “but I’m not afraid of you.”

He gazes at you for a long, thoughtful moment, then reaches to touch your face. Just his thumb, tracing from temple to chin. The tremble of his touch reveals more fear than his faint smile, all of it bound tightly in the tension that holds him together, the carefully restrained yearning for something bigger than this moment.

“Yeah, but I’m afraid of you,” he says on a breath of a laugh.

“Right,” you say, infused with all the light-hearted sarcasm as you can muster. “That’s me,” you say. “Scariest of them all.”

“You have no idea,” he says, still so sincerely. It is your turn to shiver, leaning into his touch as his thumb circles your chin. He smiles again, not his exaggerated toothy grins but a sweet, fond smile. “My job. My enemy.” His thumb presses on your mouth, gently parting your lips. A breath escapes with the race of your heart. “My sweetheart.”

“You’re just being mean now,” you say. “I hate you so much.” You hold the back of his neck and tug him close to you. Your noses brush, his breath colliding with yours. A simmering warmth is tingling under every inch of your skin, gathering hotly in intimate places. You scratch up the nape of his neck and he swallows hard.

“A kiss,” he says, a rough whisper. “Just one kiss. It’s too—we can’t—”

“One kiss,” you say, brushing noses again. “For now.”

His soft laugh warms you even before your lips touch. And a touch is all it is, lacking all the rushed dramatics of your first collision. Even though you’re not truly alone, even though danger encircles this room like a poisonous fog, this little world away from everything feels momentarily invulnerable.

You let your eyes close, surrendering to the gentle give-and-take of it all. You wonder what makes a kiss so addicting, and you wonder how you went this long abstaining, and you wonder how you could ever hope to go without it again.

You run your hands into his hair and pull his face close. He sinks into the kiss, sharing a gasp before kissing you again.

You feel dizzy with breathlessness but you don’t stop. You shiver when he cups your neck to control the movement of your head. Your excitement has you bobbing forward, but he holds you and gently tips your head, then he kisses you with a long, hot pull. When his tongue brushes your lips, you make a little noise and he very softly squeezes your neck, the only place he is touching, in warning. This only tempts another sound but you restrain yourself, if only just barely.

The kiss ends with a gasping breath. You rest your forehead against his for a long moment. Then you open your eyes only to close them when he descends, kissing your nose, your eyelids, your cheeks. His sigh feathers against your lips.

“More effective than a bullet,” he murmurs.

Surely, it is meant to be joking, sweet, flirtatious. But he looks at you with that deep-set longing. He draws his thumb from your temple to chin again. He tilts your head to kiss your cheek, closing his eyes like that innocent press is the greatest pleasure of his life. Your cheek still tingles when he pulls away.

He smiles then nods towards the top of the bed. Your heart skips a beat, but then he says, “Sleep now. No more bad dreams tonight, yeah?”

You feel tipsy, breathless still, so you don’t argue. You also do not look away from him. Your eyes are locked as you slide to your side of the bed and pull back the covers. He sits on the end, watching you. Eventually he lays down and looks at the ceiling, scrubbing a hand over his forehead. His mind is so clearly going a mile a minute.

“Don’t worry,” you say with a wave of your hand. “I still hate you.”

He shoves his tongue into his cheek to hold back the laugh, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. You just smile, then shrug, then turn your back to him for the night.

The summer passes in euphoric bursts and tiny agonies. There are days you and Felix are alone in the house, days when a calm settles between you even if all you do is sleep entangled, and there are days your father looms with all his threat and power, when Felix sensibly withdraws and you ache with the need for an intimacy that keeps you sane and human.

Felix is clearly torn between his own desires and the duty he has assigned himself. It is also apparent that he is still struggling to consider himself worthy of honest affection. You can see it in the way he stands, the way he looks at you, the way his shoulders tense when you so much as brush his shoulder. You have laid in his arms more than once, your faces so close that you are almost kissing. You run your fingers through his hair until the tension leaves his body and he lets himself slant towards you.

Please come to me, stay with me, you think.

This is another one of those things that cannot coast on accidents, on fleeting moments of lustful tension that would ultimately fizzle if not for the emotional strength propelling them. It is in that emotional undercurrent you must plant yourself deliberately if you want to feel anything, if you want to heal, and if you truly, completely want him.

Maybe you cannot leave, maybe that kind of rescue is impossible, but you form a haven of sorts between yourselves. You try to find the words to tell him he’s a person, that you want to be a person for him, a body under his hands and a heartbeat in the dark, but you can never find the right thing to say to fully liberate you from the cage closed around that room. The words touch your tongue and burn and suddenly you see every nightmare in front of you, every reminder of why this is dangerous. So you turn your back and say you hate him, even while a kiss on the shoulder is enough to fully unravel you.

The summer is busy, a popular season for parties and events, some your father hosts and some you are invited to attend. He drags you from place to place, with the rest of your spare time filled with advanced course work. It is a distraction if nothing else.

At the end of summer, your father calls you into his home office. It could be for a lecture, a demand, an argument he is itching to start. You do not know but you appear when summoned.

Felix is already there, sitting straight-backed in a small chair across from your father’s desk. There is an empty seat beside him.

He turns his head and looks at you, reminding you of the first moment you ever saw him. Some things are the same, but most things are different. You realize how much older he looks. He is still slender, still clean-shaven, still very pretty, but he is not a child anymore. He does not look ridiculous in his black blazer and tie, a holster under his jacket, a competent professional with a job to do. Uniforms used to make him look even younger, his face too wide and sweet for such a grown-up ensemble. He looked like a little boy playing dress-up.

He is not a little boy anymore. You look into his face as you approach, your eyes locked. His hair is long enough to tie into a little stub of a ponytail. You ran your fingers through that hair this morning, fluffing the soft ends, making him smile. You have kissed that pink bow of mouth, both roughly and softly. You know what he sounds like when overcome with pleasure.

You met years ago, two peculiar children with so much humanity beaten out of you. You realize just how much has grown back thanks to the slow but tender cultivation of your relationship.

It seemed like an impossible thought at the time. Now it seems like it was inevitable.

You take the empty seat beside him. You both look at your father. His hands are steepled on his desk, his attention rapt as it often is when meting out punishment. His smile is not encouraging to the contrary, as he will sometimes smile when administering his reprimands.

But then he says, “Congratulations, I am pleased.”

He shows you the transcript for your summer courses. Your grades are more than halfway decent despite your tumultuous year.

“You’ve worked hard to win back my favour,” he says. It is the kind of comment that would usually trigger your frustration, prompting a quick rebuttal that would quickly escalate. But you temper yourself, curling your fists in your lap. You force yourself to ignore his bating, to listen with as stoic a face as you can muster. Your father smiles, though it is strained. “In my persistent generosity, I have decided to reward this behaviour in the hopes of encouraging it will continue.”

He slides a folder across the desk, every encounter a business meeting when it isn’t a brawl. You take the folder and read through it, the frustration leaving your body as it is replaced with confusion then the vaguest flicker of hope.

“We are substantially removed from the university campus,” your father says. “I have decided that for the sake of convenience and your continued academic success that it would be more prudent to move you closer to the university until your degree is completed in a timely manner.”

“Move,” you say, trying to keep your voice level despite the fact it feels like your heart is trying to leap into your throat. “All of us? What about the house?”

“Just you,” he says. “And Felix, of course, to supervise you. The penthouse is secured with a high security system, not to mention armed doormen and a plethora of staff throughout the building. Between that and your bodyguard, you should be secure and thus able to complete your studies without any obstruction.” He thumps a hand on his desk, making you jump. “And I expect your grades to reflect that.”

You nod vigorously, staring down at the real estate listing of the penthouse apartment. You have only just begun to picture the possibilities of an uninterrupted life, however brief the interim, when your father speaks again.

“Felix,” he says. “You know what I expect of you.”

“Yes, sir,” Felix says with a curt nod.

“I will have it on record now,” your father says to you, “that I give Felix complete and full control of this arrangement. You will do what he says when he says it. I also grant him permission to use his own discretion to determine when and how to discipline you if you step out of line.”

“Oh,” you say, too stunned to add more.

“If he reports that you are making things difficult in any capacity—”

“I won’t,” you say. “I’ve been good all summer!”

Other than last night when you snuggled up to Felix and started kissing his neck. It was chaste, a momentary touch, but then a sweet, low sound rumbled in his throat. Naturally, you did it again, then once more, your lips a little wetter and more open each time. He eventually had to pry you off him with a warning look, but he could not fully stamp down his smile when you giggled at him.

“Felix,” your father says, disregarding your retort. “You have my permission to do what you must to keep her in line.”

“Yes, sir,” Felix says, dropping his head in a respectful bow.

“So what do I have to do get disciplined around here?”

“Stop,” Felix says, even while obviously amused, a smile tugging at his lips. “They’re still here.”

You giggle and look over his shoulder where your father’s men are moving the last few things into the apartment. One of them collects Felix to show him the workings of the security system, which Felix quickly learns with his all technological skills.

You play the part of demure daughter, quietly moving from room to room as your father’s men assemble your life according to his directions. You did not get to organize much of anything, but you don’t care. A wall is a wall, a bed a bed. But these walls offer privacy. That bed is a new haven.

It is just you and Felix.

Eventually the men leave, one by one. The move began in the morning, but it is late evening by the time Felix closes the door on the last departure. You wait while he does his security check, in the sitting area, standing at the floor-to-ceiling window that boasts a beautiful city skyline view. The outside of the window is a mirror, concealing your privacy, but you get to enjoy the twinkling city lights, the bustling world below that offers so much possibility. It is very different than your view back home, of a perfectly manicured and perfectly stagnant garden, the mansion isolated on a hill with no other souls for miles.

You remember your first night alone with Felix, how empty that house felt. Now when Felix joins you, the apartment feels full. It is brimming with life.

You look at him as he turns on a lamp, brightening the dim room with a cozy golden glow. The whole room feels warm. It is not eerie and empty like that house. You were living in a mausoleum of wealth, rotting away with distractions and half-living in what little remained. You feel golden and alive, now, here, with him.

He clears his throat. He was staring back at you, his regard as intense as yours. He turns aside now, peeling off his uniform blazer. He starts talking about dinner, suggestions for this and that, something about school, about going to campus tomorrow and finding your way around. A hundred topics, more distractions.

You say nothing so he continues to fill the silence with empty chatter. He uses his friendliest voice, though your thoughts are not merely friendly when you watch him unholster his gun, when he fiddles with the harness around his chest and pulls it free. He puts everything on the coffee table and sits on the couch, pretending to be very occupied with organizing it. He checks his gun as if something could be wrong with it, nimble fingers flicking through its mechanisms as he checks its assembly.

You sit beside him on the couch, watching him fiddle with it.

He says something about something. Asks a question, maybe. He is not really looking for an answer. You think his heart might be beating just as fast as yours, even though his hands are steady and his gaze is resolute.

“It doesn’t really matter what I want,” you say in a voice, sighing dramatically. “My dad says you’re in charge of me anyway, right?”

He clips the gun shut and puts it on the table. He looks at it for a minute, then exhales.

“Are we doing that now?” he asks dryly.

“I dunno, are we?” you ask, shuffling a little closer to him. He looks at you sideways then shakes his head. He puts his hands on his knees and strums his fingers. “Are you saying I can do what I want?” you ask.

“Uhh, that depends,” he says. Another strum. “What do you want?”

“A kiss.”

He looks at you, those dark eyes narrowed, his expression one of warning.

“Just one,” you say, batting the eyelashes that are apparently more persuasive than torture. He swallows and you smile. “Just one is fine, right?”

“You said just one a few times ago now,” he says dryly.

“No, you said that,” you say with an innocent smile. “I said just one for now. But now I’m saying just one, because I’m going to be a good girl.”

“Oh.” He looks amused now, nodding. “Are you? Really? Wow.”

“No sarcasm required, thank you,” you say. “I’m trying to avoid being disciplined, after all.”

His mouth draws into a thin line. He looks away and cracks his knuckles distractedly.

“Just one,” he finally says.

“Yes.” You nod and smile sweetly. “Just one.”

That one kiss lasts forty minutes. First you are side by side on the couch, the blue evening night outside the window colliding with the golden glow within. That blue light fades to black before long, but that golden warmth stays glowing. Heat similarly rises between you, soft pecks against soft lips turning to open-mouthed kisses that beg and satisfy with each deep touch.

He holds your face in both his hands when you tremble, keeping you steady, letting you melt into him. He moves when you tug at his shoulders, mutely imploring as you lay back on the couch, though he holds himself well above you, maintaining distance.

When his arms get tired, he lays back. He lets you crawl on top of him, and sighs, giving in, holding the back of your neck as you wrap your arms around him. You kiss again, wet and hot and hungry, losing time and sense.

You kiss until it shows, when his whole mouth is pink and his skin is flushed and he can barely keep his eyes open with the dreamy intoxication of it all. You are straddling his waist, hands on his chest, his holding your waist. A breath breaks the kiss when you settle right above where he is hard, the ridge of him in his denim fitting between your open thighs. You are wearing jeans too but the thick material does nothing for true modesty.

You settle there against him, fitting like perfectly slotted halves of a whole. His brow creases, a truly tortured expression that pours into bliss when he yields to desire. He holds your hips, keeping you there against him, and goes back to kissing you with long, slow presses, eyes closed and the occasional breath gentle.

Your fingers are in his hair, stroking at his nape. Lovely low sounds slip into his sighs. You can feel how desperately turned on and wanting you are, clenching around nothing if he so much as shifts. You imagine laying here like this with him inside you, not moving much, lazily kissing and joined together like you have all the time in the world. The very thought has you clenching again, whimpering into his mouth. It sounds a little pained so he strokes your back, under your shirt, making you shiver very noticeably.

“Are you okay?” he asks, with a completely shot voice, rough and low.

“Mhm,” you say. Words take a long time to come back to you. “Just… thinking…”

“About?”

“If we were kissing…”

“We are kissing,” he says with a chuckle, tracing circles on your spine

“And,” you say, pointedly, and press your knees into his hips. “If you were inside me while we did it.”

That makes his hand pause. Then he thunks his head back hard and fast, missing the cushion and hitting the arm of the couch. His eyes close and his face scrunches, newfound pain adding to his present torture, all of it making you giggle.

“You keep doing that,” you say, remembering him hitting his head in the car too.

“That’s because you…” He can’t even finish, he just makes a pained noise and shakes his head. It makes you laugh a little more, biting your own bruised lip as you look down at him. He cracks one eye open, his cheeks dimpling with the tug of a smile. He slides his hand far up your back, thumb finding the band of your bra and skirting it, then diving back down to your spine to settle just above your ass. “If I was inside you,” he says softly, “we would not just be kissing.”

It is your turn for a pained noise, hiding your face in his neck while he laughs.

“You can’t say things like that,” you whine. “That’s just mean.”

“Mhm.” He gives your ass a pat, making you wriggle on top of him. “Okay,” he says breathlessly. “That was one kiss. Or something. I think we’re done.”

“You’re the wooorst,” you say as he sits up. “I hate you so much. You’re so evil. You’re so sick and twisted—”

He just laughs, patting your sides and shaking his head. You only stop complaining when he kisses your nose, a sweet little peck. His smile is tender. He touches your cheek.

“Say it again,” he says.

“What? I hate you? Fine. There. I hate you.”

“One more time?” he teases, cupping your jaw, kissing your neck when you try and speak again. Your words get garbled and he laughs, shaking his head. “That’s what I thought,” he says. “Now up. I’m in charge. It’s time for dinner.”

“I can give you something to eat—”

“Up.” His tone is stern but he is still smiling. “Don’t be trouble.”

“Me?” you say. “When have I ever been trouble? I’m perfect.”

“Of course you are,” he says dryly. “I don’t know why I worried.”

“Exactly,” you say, running your fingers through his hair. Your eyes are locked, your smiles soft. You kiss his nose. “And I’m just getting started.”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #lee felix smut #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #skz x reader

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dancingwiththeplanets · 2 years

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WOW IS IT HOT IN HERE OR AM I JUST READING MY DRAFT OF CHAPTER III OF THE VOW 🥵🥵🥵

Like hot damn.

It's tense in this cargo hold.

#to be posted later today 😉#I think this was worth the wait #the vow chapter III #dark!din #dark!mando #the mandalorian

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marknee · 11 months

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bts fanfics i think shakespeare would plagiarise the absolute shit out of.

chapter iii. ✷ chapter v.

KEYS ON SEVERITY OF SHAKESPEARE’S STATE:

( ✮ ) — the bastard needs to find better hiding places to ‘secretly’ plagiarise. the tavern, really?

( ♬ ) — notes were found in the trunk by the foot of his bed. not the sharpest quill in the pot, i’ll say.

( ✎ ) — word on the street is he’s been arranging a performance at the globe theatre next week.

( ♛ ) — why is this play being taught as part of the british exam curriculum? he didn’t even write it!

THE SHAKESPEARE SERIES.

WARNING: keep in mind, some of these authors are very strict on the rule that no minors should read their work if they’re underage, and i will honour that. but, at the end of the day, i am not your parent. so, there’s that. but heed my warning wisely. any smut or 18+ content is highlighted in bold.

NOTE: dear readers, welcome to phase two. did you miss me? it’s been a long time coming, i assure you, so i’m glad to finally get the ball rolling on the next few chapters of incredible stories. my quill has been neatly sharpened, so are you ready?

⠀

( ♬ ) KEYNOTE — by @missgeniality

!! hoseok x reader | 18.5k !!

strangers to lovers, non-idol!au, smut, slight fluff.

dear reader, after some time away having finished phase one of this series, i happened to unwillingly stumble across some newfound knowledge of shakespeare, which enlightened all that i knew of. unbeknownst to me, shakespeare did write about sexual endeavours within his plays. exhibit a: “but i might see cupid’s fiery shaft, quenched in the chaste beams of the watery moon.” a midsummer night’s dream, act iii, scene i.

but, did shakespeare write: “a gruelling war between your self-respect and lascivious yearning, a war waged for way too long - the fact that you're even thinking about it, your self-respect has to give in to your desires.” indeed not.

effectively, this story doesn’t grant you time to settle in. if anything, you have all but one option when diving in to the sharks: to surrender, allowing yourself to be thrown into the deep end - to a dark predator, who from that moment, sits at the table he’s created within your mind, body and soul, and feasts on every last ounce of sanity you thought existed.

truthfully, what could say it better than: “metal could melt under his scrutiny — you’re nothing but a mere mortal.”

⠀

( ♛ ) ALL’S FAIR IN LOVE AND WAR — by @faryn_rose (ao3)

!! seokjin x reader, jungkook x reader | 48.4k !!

historical!au, violence, drama & romance.

“no, you decided. monsters did not spare people's feelings.”

there are those who fall under the supposition of being an iron fist in a velvet glove, and there are those who persist it. if anything, i argue a third exist: those who prove themselves neither.

throughout this story, it appeared two emotions were consistent in their approach of lurking within its entirety - heartbreak and betrayal. after all, people find themselves doing wild things in the name of love. in the battle between two men, both equal in their share of time on the battlefield, to win the precious heart of the reader, it provokes the question: who do you choose? the proud general willing to die for you, or the gentle chief who vows to keep you safe? certainly a tough choice.

the title is seemingly a perfect choice for this exhilarating fifty-thousand-word story. for the loser is left wondering whether the fight was worth the struggle.

not mentioning the loss of pride knowing their attempts were, in fact, faulty.

but, as said, all’s fair in love and war.

“he treated me like i mattered, like i had power in this world. and i decided that i couldn’t let someone like that go.”

⠀

( ✎ ) 1999 — by @tattookoo

!! campus royalty!jungkook x reader | 17.9k !!

90s!au, college au, hockey!au, fake dating, smut.

“kook, it’s really not hard to pretend to be into you. you’re very easy to love.”

with an unruly raven-haired rake with devastating dimples as the love interest, i am fully subscribed to the belief this utterance lies true. if anything, you’d be a fool to not swoon over this dashing playboy of the 90s.

this story hones into the idea of fake dating for the sake of rebuilding a reputation. but, as it seems, nobody’s fate truly rests in their own hands.

as we know - or will come to in time - a real relationship requires more of something that a fake perhaps less so: vulnerability. true, it carries the burden, yet it leaves space for commitment to linger, though as a visitor, and not as a resident. it seems commitment is what transforms a promise into reality.

the author does an incredible job of bringing every aspect of being exposed to the susceptibility of love, and that is what earned itself a place in my series.

yet, why is it we continue to delve into stories like these? well, for the greatest adventure we humans can ever go on: to run the risk of rejection, and to be completely okay with it.

⠀

( ♛ ) HOOKED — by @joopiterjoon (ao3)

!! namjoon x reader | 102k !!

friends with benefits, smut, angst, 18+.

typically, when tornado warnings siren, it’s our cue to turn tail and flee. so when tornado warnings siren within people, why is it we do not take initiative until the damage is done? even worse, what if they siren within ourselves? as we know, we cannot run from ourselves.

“i need to work on me with me." while this quote may appear ordinary, i fear its the most impactful, and arguably the most important, piece of dialogue in this story - the understanding that the only person who is going to fix you, is yourself. a tough pill to swallow - especially if you were shattered against your will - but one we must digest eventually.

shakespeare wouldn’t have a clue, regarding all his characters are broken beyond belief - and that, in most cases, ends up being their demise.

alternately, this story leaves you with two ending options. i shan’t tell you which is best, dear reader, as that choice belongs to you. but, a simple thing i like to remember:

“love is loss.”

⠀

( ♛ ) HEARTBURN — by @jiminrings

!! jimin x reader | 41.7k !!

heavy angst, emotional infidelity, more angst.

“the ones we love have the power to inflict the greatest scars, for what thing is more fragile than the human heart.” i can’t remember for the life of me who said this, but dear lord, does it just hit the mark for this story.

to cheat is to lack integrity. which jimin palpably inherits. but, it seems in order to acquire agency, sometimes bad things have to be someone’s fault.

throughout this tripartite story, you witness the growth of each individual character - and perhaps the loss of parts, too. each has their depths, their faults, their beauty. nobody is left dry, and it truly brings the story together in a way that connects so well.

“guard your heart, y/n. let it be yours before you share it again.” i ask you, author, what provoked you to write such heart-rending words? and i ask you, dear readers, to bathe in the words i say next: your heart is yours before it is anybody else’s.

this story is not just about the destruction of a great trust, but about a birth of trust within yourself and what it means to wholeheartedly put yourself first - especially in desperate times when nobody else will do it for you.

⠀

( ♬ ) TOLERATE IT — by @archivedkookie (ongoing)

!! taehyung x reader | 6k !!

heavy angst, one-sided love, forced marriage, smut.

“the worst way to love somebody’s to watch them love somebody else and it work out.” body better, maisie peters.

unrequited love is a killer. a crushing, sinking pain when your heart reaches the depths of your stomach, and it’s more common experience than one might think - especially between you and i.

whilst this story is still ongoing, i know i’m about to be completely swept off my feet. especially with leading quotes such as: “because before all this happened, you were his friend.”

this story feels familiar - the words familiar too. simply because i assure we’ve all been the the exact boat - the one floating upon stormy seas of rejection. we understand the readers pain, we sympathise with it, and we connect to it.

“not your love to be tolerated when you know you should be celebrated.”

we’re fools of love, that’s all we are. there’s no magic or defiance behind it.

and in the words of the perks of being a wallflower: “we accept the love we think we deserve.”

⠀

( ✎ ) LEVEL OF RESTRAINT — by @lemonjoonah

!! jimin x namjoon x reader x taehyung | 13k !!

office!au, bdsm!au, 18+, thriller, smut.

“any position beneath you would suit me nicely.” why don’t you shut the fuck up?

now, tell me, at what point does one cross the thin line between obsession and possession? what are the defining factors, and when down that very same faded line, does one reach a great epiphany they’ve reached a place of no return? does ‘love’ not beg for sacrifice? does it?

setting the scene, with characters like these, it’s hard to not risk the fall of betrayal from the thrust of arguably non-consensual sexual situations, but i’ll let you be the judge of that. effectively, this story is one you have to experience for yourself, dear reader, in order to understand. there is only so much i can tell you- reveal, express, without running my mouth and ruining the whole plot line.

though, i shall leave you with one piece of advice. a thought for you to ponder on: pay attention.

and talk about jimin and namjoon being sex on legs all you want, but there is no denial this story has a deeper, more sinister verona.

lady macbeth said it herself: “look like th' innocent flower, / but be the serpent under't.”

⠀

( ♬ ) WANT A TASTE? — by @suga-kookiemonster

!! yoongi x reader | 18.3k !!

friends to lovers, humour, shopping mall!au, smut.

"who are you, yoongi? what is your truth?” if there is something i can respect, should it be this line.

i believe there is a rich beauty in the small, gentle exchanges between strangers, to which ripen, transforming into the most special of connections between friends - and before long, between lovers. it’s a slow and steady process i’m sure, but i find those types of love are the most worthwhile.

patience is, of course, dear reader, a virtue.

in my humble opinion, this story does nothing but breathe fun from its very core, encapsulating the sweet essence of excitement - of belonging - and burrowing itself around you like a warm blanket. that’s the sheer power of a writer - to familiarise the strange and mystify the familiar.

tell, aren’t you intrigued?

“all the time you've spent with him has already alerted you to the fact that his hard persona is all a front.”

took you long enough.

⠀

( ♛ ) THE WEDDING ARRANGEMENT — by @sugaurora (ao3)

!! namjoon x black!reader | 44.2k !!

enemies with benefits to lovers, smut, romance.

“and maybe that's because it wasn't the kind of love you always expected, but something different that you hadn't fully let yourself accept.” if this were any other topic of matter, i would let wit take its course. however, as it is not, i am inept from doing so - rather i shall let your own imagination prove itself dominant, dear reader.

effectively, if there is anything this story has mastered, it’s the realisation that assumptions can erode any relationship, and inevitably are a fate we, the human race, continue to face and to fight.

“strangely, the first thing you thought of was home.” while i presume i join the line of overdue attendants to stumble across this indescribable romance, to say its definitely left its mark - perchance, more.

if you seek a delicious story to sink your teeth into, let this take the cake. besides, the story isn’t the only appetising option on the menu.

“you're a walking erotic novel cover, namjoon.”

⠀

( ✮ ) FINAL SLEIGH — by @floralseokjin

!! seokjin x reader | 23.3k !!

office!au, rivals/enemies to lovers, smut.

in order to reach the beautiful rose nestled within its bush, you must first combat the prickly thorns to which ensure its survival by the name of protection. mind you, shakespeare never said that - i did. my quill is just as sharp it’s practically lethal.

the art of protection within humans, i say, is much different. it jumps out in strange forms, but each is just as valid as the other. which is what indefinitely makes this trope all the more interesting - especially in this story.

“feelings was a scary word, an uncertain word, but you thought you liked the way it made you feel.” arguably, if a pair are able to surmount this indescribable nine letter word, possibly even sit with the idea, then perhaps their journey marks itself a success. and that to me, is worth fighting for.

this story is a perfect mix between comedy and actuality, plenishing us of pure enjoyment while hooking us round the legs in the name of desire disguised. a perfect mask, indeed.

we’re all playing with fire. but if you don’t take that foolish risk, how’d you know you’d burn?

⠀

( ✮ ) SIT. STAY. — by @daechwitatamic

!! seokjin x reader | 14k !!

neighbours!au, dog parent!au, smut.

“if you love somebody, let them go.” not to delve too deep into things, but baring in mind society’s self-destructive addiction to faster living, it poses the question whether “stay” within this context carries a much heavier weight than intended. asking someone to stick by you in a world which thrives on the act of haste, is a form of intimacy one may not throughly tread.

but understand this, dear readers, i do not miss anything.

the affinity within this story is one to point out. it’s so raw and genuine that it feels uncomfortably natural - to the point that freshly reading this felt like returning to an old friend your soul grew attached to in a past life, glad - and almost grateful - to encounter them once more.

“would you be better off telling him later, when things are settled, when you can tie up the story nice and neat?” oh, how you wound me. just so, the new in a relationship is a hard course to navigate, especially when it comes to our deepest shadows - perhaps it would be easier to stick a decorative bow over the cracks.

but then again, how else would light get in?

⠀

( ♛ ) BLOOM — by @hobidreams

!! florist!namjoon x assassin!reader | 20.7k !!

smut, action, angst, opposites attract.

in the nature of life, it is normal for us to resist death. but in the nature of the world, in the end, death overwhelms life. but ‘tis not death itself we find ourselves afraid of, rather the possibility of it. “like how a child fears what might lay beyond a closet door, beneath a four-frame bed.”

even i fed the dark, hungry demon of that spiralling thought once.

within this captivating story, the two main characters of life and death coexist beside each other. neither try to dominate and drain the power of the other. they simply rest, side by side, together. while joon grows life through his plants, the reader strips that of what is so. to each to their own. the birth, and the destruction.

but, dear reader, does life beg the existence of death? or simply, is it the other way around? can death suffice without existence? “you can't seem to sleep… without the comfort that there's something growing, thriving in life just a few feet away.” …perhaps.

despite the pair being so different from one another, neither allow that defining characteristic the chance to ruin their dangerous, but very real connection. well… until the last petal falls.

but i shall let you discover that for yourself.

TAGLIST: @screamertannie @bebejungkook @taleasnewastime

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nightswatchdisbandmentera · 7 months

Text

I’ve been rereading AGOT and this is how I’d summarize Jon Snow’s entire arc chapter by chapter

Jon l - Local teen bastard has a big realization that he has no social status while attending a royal party. He bursts into tears and goes to sulk in a corner.

[Interlude] Arya I - Local elementary schooler has an awakening about the unfairness of feudalism. She joins her aforementioned teen brother as they sulk in a corner.

[Interlude] Bran II - Elementary-age boy worried that his moody teen brother is sulking in corners far too much. He then has a terrible accident, which is a precursor to him sulking in corners as well.

Jon II - Local moody teen realizes that one should not make rash, life altering decisions while drunk. Now realizing that he has signed up for his local JROTC, which is a lifelong commitment to a frozen penal colony, he sulks around multiple corners as he says goodbye to several family members.

[Interlude] Tyrion II - Florida man makes fun of moody teenage military recruit who has just now realized that he has fallen victim to untruthful feudalist military propaganda. He laughs as the teen proceeds to sulk in a (fiery) corner.

Jon III - A local moody teen is forced to check his privilegeᵀᴹ after behaving in an appalling manner towards his fellow army recruits. Lonely, depressed, and homesick, he proceeds to sulk in a corner for a few days, but manages to make a few friends nonetheless.

[Interlude] Tyrion III - Perpetually drunk and annoying know-it-all Florida man strikes an unlikely friendship with a moody teen who has a tendency to sulk in corners due to issues making friends.

Jon IV - Local moody teen makes a new friend during JROTC training. Said friend is bullied for his exceptionally large frame, which makes for a rather poor soldier, but the moody teen stands up for him in front of the entire army base. The bullying eventually stops due to his efforts. Later, the two boys go to sulk in a corner, bonding over their shared sense of insecurity and rejection.

Jon V - Local moody teen finds out that his new bff is flunking JROTC. He proceeds to sulk in a forest, but still thinks of a solution to save said friend. Spoiler: he is successful and his friend graduates just fine.

Jon VI - Local moody teen graduates JROTC, but as a junior officer which is not at all what he wanted. He very angrily sulks out in the open, throwing a massive fit while he’s at it, until it is pointed out to him (much to his embarrassment) that this post will directly put him in the line of command.

Jon VII - Local moody teen learns that his beloved father has been imprisoned on grounds of treason. Incensed, he attacks a senior officer who makes fun of the situation. He is placed on house arrest by the army commander, which gives him plenty of time to sulk in a corner. However, his sulking is cut short when zombies attack the army base and he has to save the commander.

Jon VIII - For his bravery while fighting a zombie, local moody teen is gifted a special magic sword. He sulks about it because it should’ve been his father’s sword he’s getting. He is also conflicted because while he has already said his vows and bound himself to the penal colony, he still wants to go aid his family which is now on the brink of war after his father’s execution. Unable to do much else, he has no other choice but to go around sulking in several corners.

Jon IX - Local moody teen makes the foolish decision to dip out of army school to join his family that has gone off to war. He broodily decides to help his brother enact revenge for his father’s murder. However, he is unable to get very far because his friends catch up to him (with the help of his equally moody pet wolf) and is ultimately convinced to go back. Once he returns, the army commander gives him a good talking to and tells him that it’s time to grow up go on a real mission. This local teen has been looking forward to this the entire time, but he wants to go aid his family. He is forced to make a heartbreaking decision. Ultimately choosing duty over love, he has no choice but to make his way towards the north and sulk in whatever corners he will come across beyond the wall.

#really this whole book is just—life: *happens*#jon snow: *proceeds to sulk in a corner*#valyrianscrolls #asoiaf #jon snow #a game of thrones #bran stark #arya stark #tyrion lannister #sam tarly #and big shoutout to arya bran tyrion and sam for being his sulking buddies 🫶🏽

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zhng96 · 9 months

Text

𝐀𝐑𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄, 𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐋 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 ― K. GYUVIN.

↳ all her life, y/n has been waiting to finally be able to call someone her boyfriend. now that she is a freshman in college, still with no true history of a boyfriend and finds that all of her friends have found people to call theirs, shes starting to feel hopeless. believing that perhaps it was her personality that drew a thick line between her and romantic relationships, she vows to accept it- but when kim gyuvin catches her attention one day in class, she can't help the feelings from blooming. kim gyuvin is quite the opposite to yn- a hopeless romantic with much dating experience- what if he prefers yn despite her being a little rough around the edges?

― pairing: k!gyuvin x fem!reader

― genre: slowburn, college!au, fluff, angst, crack, smau, comfort, strangers to friends to lovers, she fell first he fell harder, mutual pining, gyuvin very attentive :(, black cat x golden retriever energy

― featuring: chaewon - le sserafim, yujin - le sserafim, soobin - txt, haknyeon - the boyz, zb1 ot9

― warnings: will be shown at the beginning of each chapter!! cursing, kys and kms jokes.

― status: ongoing- i update whenever i have the time <3

― taglist: open, just send an ask <3

TABLE OF CONTENTS:

↳ playlist

one direction | oceans 9 (1) | oceans 9 (2)

OOI. its cuffing season

OII. officially unemployed 👩‍🎓

III. i hate seeing ppl happy…

OIV. SO UR GNNA MAKE ME DEAL WITH IT?

OOV. the girls are fighting...

OVI. did she just call me stupid

VII. gyuvin employed agenda!!

VIII. IM A QUICK LEARNER YUPP 🗣️

OIX. stage 1 - denial

loading… 50%

loading… 8%

navi. mlist.

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vennilavee · 1 year

Text

blood & pearls

summary: a lonely water nymph washes up to the shores of an enchanted lake with dreams of the sun and the stars. little do you know, that this enchanted lake belongs to the king of curses himself, ryomen sukuna. or, a series of drabbles about you, a water nymph, and a four armed demon dressed as a deity.

warnings: (will be added as the story is updated)

a/n: heavily inspired by the genius herself @lovesakusa’s casual epic, the odyssey

playlist by @libroparaiso check it out here !!

chapters

i. poseidon’s cove

ii. a pearl's journey

iii. the savior

iv. the damned

v. ares & aphrodite

vi. sword & shield

vii. fallen rose

viii. the golden vow

ix. the battle of sea and land

x. venus rising

drabbles:

do you deserve this

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader

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bupia · 9 months

Text

Love letter: Chapter 7 - Cardinal Copia x Fem!Reader

Summary: Months later after Terzo got removed from his position as Papa, the ministry was passing through some hard times. You and Cardinal Copia were working day and night to keep everything in the right place. But now, the day had finally come – Terzo was about to get married. Despite all the chaos at the ministry, you and Cardinal Copia were determined not to miss this chance to take a break and leave for the weekend.

Words: 10.802

Warning: This Chapter is a little Angst and has Smut (teasing; dirty talk; fingering; oral sex - m-f/face sitting; unprotected sex; breeding) | Italian swearing | Swearing

Over the past few months, Terzo's marriage signified a significant change in the dynamics of the ministry. With Terzo stepping down as Papa Emeritus III, and the circumstances surrounding his departure, Copia knew that the ministry was entering a new era, and it came with its share of uncertainties. Copia dedicated countless hours to the ministry as the absence of an official Papa Emeritus created a void in the hierarchy. Primo and Secondo were also working more than usual to compensate for the situation. Meanwhile, Terzo made a solemn vow never to get involved with the ministry again, and he remained true to his word.

With Nihil and Sister Imperator taking the lead of the ministry, you and Cardinal Copia were working tirelessly, trying to manage the chaos and maintain stability within the clergy. The atmosphere in the ministry was tense and filled with uncertainty and Copia had to step up to fill the void left by Terzo's departure.

Your relationship with Cardinal Copia has also become a challenge. The excessive workload has placed an invisible barrier between the two of you. It was difficult to be with Copia ever since, due to the overwhelming tiredness after long hours of work in his office, but also because of the massive amount of meetings he had to attend. The subject of these meetings? You had no idea, he never mentioned it, and when you tried to inquire, he would deflect the conversation or say that it was just ministry business that he had to attend to. But he always came back from them very apprehensive.

You felt a growing sense of distance between you and Copia. The long hours he spent in his office, the endless meetings, and the overwhelming tiredness took a toll on both of you. It was not just the physical fatigue that troubled him; you could see the emotional toll it was taking on him too.

The weight of his responsibilities seemed to separate you, and it felt as though there was an unspoken burden that both of you carried. It was challenging to find quality time together, and when you did, the conversations often revolved around the ministry or the events of the day, leaving little room for you two. As you tried to be patient and understanding, you couldn't help but wonder if there was something more he was keeping from you, something he couldn't share even with you.

The evening you decided to ask about it, Copia told you that the ministry is going through some significant changes, and there are decisions to be made that will impact many people, especially him. But you told him that he didn't have to go through all this alone, you were there for him. However, he made it clear that some of these matters are sensitive and confidential, and he didn't want to burden you with them, but he promised to find a balance.

And he did, he found balance between his responsibilities and his personal life, to prioritize both without neglecting either. He made a conscious effort to carve out quality time for the two of you, whether it was stealing quiet moments during lunch breaks, going on short walks together around the ministry, or simply sitting down for a cup of coffee in the mornings, Copia ensured that you felt valued and cherished. He listened to your thoughts and concerns, sharing his own in return, and he took every opportunity to remind you of your importance in his life. Whether it was through heartfelt gestures, loving words, or simply the way he looked at you.

There was also the moments whenever the workday ended earlier than anticipated, you and Copia saw it as an opportunity to steal away some private time for yourselves, which you both knew it would lead to his quarters.

One month ago, Cardinal Copia received Terzo's wedding invitation. On one hand, he was genuinely happy for Terzo and his fiancée, on the other hand, Copia couldn't deny a hint of sadness within himself.

Because of that, he believed that it was time to open up to his brothers about your relationship. Having this conversation wasn't going to be easy, given the sensitivity of the matter and the possible repercussions. Nevertheless, he understood its importance, particularly because he didn't want to bring you to the wedding solely as his assistant.

So he shared the news with his brothers, Primo’s joy and happiness were evident. He mentioned how he wished he had been able to balance his responsibilities as a young man with the pursuit of love, but circumstances were different back then. Secondo’s reaction was a mix of happiness and concern. He seemed delighted, but his worry was understandable given the circumstances surrounding Terzo’s removal from his Papa position due to his engagement. And then Terzo, the ever-mischievous one. Copia also told him about the relationship, even though it wasn’t entirely necessary, he already knew. Terzo’s reaction was to mock Copia, playfully teasing him about his inability to resist the allure of a “sorella.” Despite the teasing, Terzo was genuinely happy for you two.

Regardless of the high stakes involved their positions within the ministry, the brothers showed understandment and support for your relationship, pledging to keep it a secret. Copia felt a burden lifted off his shoulders, and you noticed he appeared more relaxed afterward.

The days leading up to Terzo's wedding had been filled with a whirlwind of preparations and responsibilities. You both were sharing a room in the house that had been provided by Terzo's fiancée's family shortly after they left the ministry. It was a spacious, old house, nestled in seclusion, far away from the city. The area offered a great deal of privacy, making it an ideal setting for a tranquil new beginning. Terzo appeared entirely unfazed by the surroundings; he was relishing this fresh start with his fiancée.

The exhaustion weighed heavily on both of you as you stood together in the bathroom, getting ready for the big day. Copia's eyes met yours in the mirror, and you could see the weariness reflected in his gaze. The long hours of work, the late-night meetings, and the constant pressure of the clergy had taken a toll on both of you. But beyond all that, you two couldn't be happier to spend this time alone, distant from the duties of the ministry for the weekend.

"Sei così bella," he said softly, his eyes locked on your reflection at the mirror.

"Thank you," you responded, smiling back at him through the reflection.

"Eh!?," he looked surprised. "You understood that?"

"Copia," you giggled. "You've said it so many times in the past few months; I'm starting to grasp it. I pick things up quickly," you winked playfully at him. "Now, can you help me with my dress?"

"Che diavolo!" he exclaimed, looking at you perplexed. "Come here, diavoletta!" He chuckled, reaching for your hand, turning you to his direction.

Your breath caught in surprise as he lifted you onto the bathroom sink and pressed his lips against yours in a fiery kiss. His hands holding your waist, pulling you closer, deepening the kiss. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, sent shivers through all your body. The taste of his lips made you feel intoxicated, and the sound of your mingling breaths, filled the air. He growled, darting to lick your bottom lip before he sucked it gently into his mouth.

He broke the kiss, lowering his head to your neck, kissing it gently. Soft gasps escaped your lips, and you couldn’t help but lean into the touch. His lips were warm and tender against your skin and the gentle tickle of his mustache made you giggle softly, a sound that only seemed to encourage him as he continued to explore your neck with his lips, leaving a wet trail of kisses. Your hands instinctively found their way to his hair, tangling in the soft locks as you held him closer. His hands caressed your back to your thighs, slightly spreading them, fitting himself between it, pulling you even closer to him.

You tilted your head to grant him better access. “Copia...” you murmured his name, your voice barely audible, but he heard it loud and clear. He responded with a gentle hum against your skin.

With a soft sigh, he lifted his head to meet your gaze, capturing your lips in a tender and sweet kiss. His fingers brushing gently against your cheek, while he proceeded to place a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I need your help with my tie, amore." Copia murmured.

You nodded, composing yourself, smiling affectionately. “Of course, let me help you,” you replied, leaving the sink, standing in front of him.

Your fingers deftly worked on the tie, skillfully adjusting and fixing it into place. As you focused on the task, Copia’s eyes never left your face and you couldn’t help but blush as you stole glances at his face.

“Grazie, amore,” he murmured softly. "How do I look? Do I look good?" his hand reaching up to caress your cheek.

"More than good," you said, your eyes locking with his. "You look absolutely breathtaking, Copia."

His cheeks tinged with a faint blush, and he chuckled. "Well, I do try my best for you, amore."

"And you succeed," you replied, kissing his cheek. "Always."

With the tie fixed, you turned your back to him, grazing at your reflection in the mirror, your cheeks still flushed and your lips slightly swollen from the intensity of the previous kiss. With a contented sigh, you adjusted your hair and clothing, ensuring everything was back in place. As you turned back to face Copia, he was watching you with a soft expression on his face.

"Can you please help me with my dress, now?" you asked him, giggling. "I just need you to zip it."

"Of course, amore," he said, delicately rubbing his hands on the fabric and carefully zipping your dress.

His arms wrapped around you, you felt a soft brush of his nose against your hair. You took a deep breath, running your fingertips on the back of his hands, letting the scent of his cologne filling your senses.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his eyes fixed on you.

You felt a rush of warmth in your heart, and a soft blush colored your cheeks. "Thank you," you replied, feeling a bit shy under his gaze.

"I meant it, cara," he said sincerely. "You're absolutely stunning."

"And you're not too bad yourself," you teased, playfully nudging him.

He chuckled, pulling you into a warm embrace. ��I'm glad you find this old man good enough,” he admitted, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"You're much more than enough, Copia." With a smile, you kissed his cheek. "Shall we?"

"Sì, amore."

Copia left the bathroom going to the corner of the room, where his suit jacket hung casually over a chair. He sauntered over and picked up the elegant attire, running his fingers along the smooth fabric. As he donned the suit jacket, he reached for the doorknob, pulling the door open for you.

"Thank you," you said, smiling at him as he followed you closing the door behind you.

Stepping outside, you both found yourselves in a quiet corridor. He grabbed your hand and you two walked side by side. But then, a subtle sense of anxiety gnawed at you as you thought about the upcoming wedding. Despite things seeming fine now, the future of the ministry weighed on your mind, especially with you and Cardinal Copia being together. The thought of what could happen to him if the clergy discovered your relationship was painful, but you pushed those worries aside for the moment. Today was a day of celebration, and you didn't want anything to dampen the joyous occasion.

As you approached the bottom of the stairs, Primo and Secondo stood nearby, both exuding an air of elegance in their well-chosen attire. Primo was resplendent in his traditional white Papal robes, the intricate embroidery and golden accents adding a touch of regal splendor to his appearance. Beside him, Secondo exuded an aura of quiet sophistication in his impeccably tailored suit. The dark fabric hugged his form in all the right places, emphasizing the strong lines of his shoulders and chest. Primo gaze resting upon both of you with a warm smile.

"Good evening, Papas," you greeted them.

"You both make a beautiful couple," Primo said softly, his voice tinged with genuine warmth.

You exchanged a grateful look with Copia, feeling a sense of comfort in Primo's acceptance of your relationship. His support meant a lot, especially given the complexities of their roles within the ministry.

"Grazie, fratello," Copia replied, his voice filled with appreciation.

Primo chuckled softly, giving a small nod. "Now, look at you, Bellissima!" Primo exclaimed, taking your hands and planting a gentle kiss on the back of each. "You truly are a wonderful addition to our family."

Secondo nodded, keeping his serious look as he observed the interaction. Though his expression might not show it, you could feel the quiet approval in his gaze. His protective nature was evident, and you knew that he cared deeply for his family and their well-being.

"Thank you, Papa." You smiled shyly. "But you're the one who looks handsome!"

He chuckled. "I'm not the Papa anymore, bella," he said, giggling. "You don't have to call me that, but I appreciate it."

"Don't say that! Once a Papa, always a Papa."

"Oh, sei troppo dolce per il cuore di questo vecchio, bella," he said, affectionately kissing your hands again.

You then turned your gaze to Secondo, offering him a sincere smile. "You look amazing too, Secondo."

You could swear you saw Secondo blush slightly in response, but he simply grunted as an answer. You couldn't help but giggle softly at his reaction.

"Now, would you lend us your partner, bella? We need to meet Terzo before the ceremony starts," Primo requested, releasing your hands and offering you a warm smile.

"Of course, Papa! Please take him with you," you replied, looking at Copia and giving him an affectionate smile.

"Grazie, bella." Primo said, starting to walk down the hallway, followed by Secondo. "Come with us, Cardinal."

Copia nodded, a tender look in his eyes as he gently squeezed your hand. "I'll be right back, cara," he murmured before following Primo.

With a nod, Copia gave you a soft peck and then followed Primo and Secondo down the hallway. Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the garden where rows of neatly arranged chairs awaited the guests.

Finding your seat among the guests, you took a moment to look around. The beautiful garden where the ceremony would soon take place, was filled with the sweet scent of flowers, and the gentle breeze rustled through the leaves of the trees. Also, people were dressed in their finest attire, adorned with elaborate Satanic symbols and dark elegance, mingled with one another.

As the evening sun began to set, casting a golden glow over the garden, the candles that adorned the garden, crated an enchanting and intimate atmosphere. At the moment the sky turned into hues of pink and orange, the sweet melodies of the music filled the air, and all eyes turned to the end of the garden where Terzo stood, looking radiant in his wedding suit.

He strode into the venue, with his brothers. At the front stood Primo, emanating an air of authority. Further back, Secondo stood, a captivating figure, his serious yet charming demeanor drawing in the guests like a magnet. And there, in the midst of it all, was Copia, your Cardinal, resplendent in his attire. His eyes met yours with a tender intensity, and you felt a surge of warmth in your heart.

Primo, dressed in his old Papa attire, took his place at the altar, embodying the authority of a Papa Emeritus. Your eyes were drawn irresistibly to Copia. He looked remarkably different in a suit compared to the usual Cardinal attire, or even his casual bed clothes, or sometimes no clothes at all. Seeing him dressed so handsomely for the occasion made your heart skip a beat, and a rush of butterflies fluttered in your stomach. It was like falling in love with him all over again, and you couldn't stop wondering if that day would come for you two as well.

You got lost in your thoughts when suddenly you noticed the guests turning their faces in an opposite direction of yours. As the anticipation in the room heightened, you felt a slight nudge from the guests beside you, drawing your attention to the entrance. There she was, Terzo's fiancée, making her grand entrance. A hushed silence fell over the crowd as all eyes turned to admire her beauty and grace.

The striking black dress she wore exuded an air of elegance. As she neared Terzo, their eyes locked, and a soft smile curved her lips. Terzo extended his hand, and she placed her delicate fingers in his, with a tender touch, he pressed a gentle kiss on the back of her hand.

From that moment, Primo began the ceremony, invoking the blessings of the Satanic deities upon the couple.

"In the name of our great god Satan Lucifer, I command thee to come forth and bestow your blessing upon these. In the names of Satan, Lucifer, Belial, Leviathan, come forth."

The guests watched in awe and reverence as Primo conducted the ceremony, his words carrying the weight of tradition and centuries of Satanic beliefs. As the blessings were bestowed upon the couple, you could see the emotions on Terzo and his fiancée's faces.

Terzo turned to his beloved, taking a deep breath, reaching for her hands. "Cara, from the moment we met, I never imagined that we would end up like this. When you first started working with me, it felt like you were a distant star, shining brightly but out of reach. Your smile seemed like a treasure I could never hope to find. You wouldn't laugh at any of my jokes, always telling me to focus on my work, and scolding me for not doing my job right. It frustrated me, because you wouldn't even look at me! But little by little, you started to let me in. I remember the first time you smiled at one of my jokes, and it felt like a beam of sunlight breaking through the darkness. And then, one day, you looked at me, really looked at me, and it was as if the entire world came into focus. From that moment on, my heart was forever yours. As we stand here today, surrounded by the warmth of our loved ones and the embrace of the Satanic spirit, I vow to love you with all that I am. I promise to be your unwavering support, to lift you up when you're down, and to cherish every moment we share. With you, I am complete, and cara, please never forget; I regret nothing. I regret absolutely nothing. I love you."

Terzo's vows moved you to tears, and as your emotions overwhelmed you, your gaze naturally turned to Copia, who was already watching you with a tender expression. He gave you a reassuring smile and in that moment, you felt a how much you loved him. You wiped away your tears, smiling back at Copia.

Terzo's fiancée's voice trembled slightly with emotion as she began her vows. "My beloved Terzo, when our paths first crossed, I never imagined that we would end up here, standing before each other on our wedding day. To be honest, I couldn't quite understand why you chose me to be your assistant when I hadn't even applied for the position. But fate had its way, and I took the job, not knowing it would lead me to this moment. And now, I am so grateful that I did, because it brought me to the love of my life. Yes, you were quite a handful, I can't count the number of times you drove me crazy with your stubbornness. But amidst the chaos, I found myself falling for you. I remember our first kiss, vividly, as if time stood still in that office at midnight of a quiet Friday. Every time you kiss me, it's like I'm transported back to that moment, wrapped in the warmth of your arms. So as we stand here, under the watchful gaze of the Satanic deities, I vow to be your rock and your refuge, to hold you close in times of need, and to lift you up when you are down. Thank you for loving me, I love you."

With tears of joy in their eyes, Terzo and his fiancée exchanged rings, sealing their promises to each other.

"Your vows being made by intent, by the power of Satan, I now confer the possession of each other upon you." Primo solemnly proclaimed, his voice filled with emotion as he officiated the ceremony.

Without hesitation, they leaned in and sealed their promises with a tender and passionate kiss.

"Rege Satanis."

As Terzo and his beloved, now bound in unholy matrimony, walked down the aisle, the guests erupted in applause and cheers. You watched them with a warm smile, as Primo, Secondo, and Copia followed closely behind the newlyweds, returning to the house where the reception awaited.

You rose from your seat, making your way to the house with the other guests. Inside the house, laughter and chatter filled the air, the joyous atmosphere was contagious. Tables were laden with sumptuous food and drinks, and music filled the air.

As you searched the crowd for Copia, a sense of unease started to creep into your heart. You had hoped to find him among the guests, sharing in the celebration of Terzo's wedding, but he seemed to be nowhere in sight. Finally, you spotted Secondo, Primo, and Terzo with his wife, surrounded by well-wishers and guests offering their congratulations. But still, there was no sign of Copia. Your concern grew, and you couldn't help but wonder where he might be.

"There she is!" Terzo called out, beckoning you to come closer. "Come join us, sorella!" He reached for your hand, bringing you close to them.

Trying to hide your growing worry, you joined the group.

"Congratulations!" You said in a cheerful tone, giving them a genuine smile.

Terzo's face lit up with joy as he looked at you. "Grazie, sorella!" he replied, his voice filled with gratitude.

His wife joined the conversation. "Yes, thank you," she held your hands, pulling you to a hug. "Thank you for being here."

"I wouldn't miss it for anything," you replied. "You both deserve all the happiness in the world."

"Thank you, dear," she sighed. "I can't even believe we are here, I can't believe I'm finally his wife!" She said with a big smile on her face. Terzo leaned in, pressing a kiss on her cheek.

You smiled warmly at the them, their happiness contagious and heartwarming. "You make a beautiful couple," you said, genuinely meaning every word.

"I'm so glad you're here to share this day with us," Terzo's wife said, her eyes glistening with emotion. "It means a lot to have you here."

"It means a lot to me too," you replied, your heart swelling with affection for them both.

"So-re-lla," Terzo spelled out playfully, drawing out the word. "So, tell us, when are we going to see you two getting married with our fratello?"

“Terzo, non cominciare neanche…” Secondo responded in a serious tone.

"Cosa? Sono solo curioso! Non puoi negare di averci già pensato, fratello," Terzo teased him.

As they bantered back and forth, you couldn't understand the details of their conversation, but the mention of marriage made you feel a surge of anxiety. Thoughts of your future together with Copia flooded your mind, and while you cherished the idea of a life together, the idea of marriage felt like a big step.

You managed to put on a smile, not wanting to dampen the cheerful mood. "Well, we'll see what the future holds," you replied vaguely, hoping to steer the conversation away from the topic.

Terzo's wife noticed your unease and took the initiative to change the subject. She gently grabbed your hand and brought you closer to her. "Why don't we go sit?" she suggested, giving you a knowing look.

You turned your gaze to her, feeling grateful for her understanding. With a nod of your head, you followed her lead as she led the way to a big round table, followed by the three brothers. As you settled into your seat, you felt a sense of relief wash over you. The anxiety that had been building up started to dissipate, and you allowed yourself to be present in the moment.

As the conversation flowed around you, your mind kept wandering to the Cardinal's absence. He had promised to be there, and you knew how important it was for him to be present at his brother's wedding. The weight of uncertainty gnawed at your thoughts, making it difficult to fully engage in the festivities.

"Have you seen Copia?" you asked cautiously, trying not to let your worry show too much.

Primo looked around, his brows furrowed. "I haven't seen him in a while. He was here when we got inside, but I think he went to somewhere else."

"He'll probably join us soon," Secondo chimed in, trying to offer reassurance. "Don't worry, sorella."

You nodded, trying to trust their words, but your concern still lingered. You excused yourself from the group, intending to search for Copia. As you moved through the crowd, you couldn't help but feel a sense of urgency in your heart.

Suddenly, Secondo raised from his seat, cleaning his throat. "I'd like to make a toast to the couple."

All eyes turned to Secondo as he stood, a serious yet warm expression on his face. The atmosphere hushed, anticipation filling the air. He cleared his throat once more before speaking.

"Terzo, Ann, as you both embark on this new chapter of your lives together, I have a toast to make on behalf of all of us," Secondo began, his voice steady and heartfelt. "We, your brothers, have witnessed the love and devotion you have for each other, and it's truly a remarkable thing. As you know, the path of a Papa can be demanding and sometimes unpredictable, but we stand together as a family. And so, I raise this glass to celebrate your union and to make an announcement – an announcement of time and freedom."

His words hung in the air, and you exchanged curious glances with the guests, wondering what Secondo had in mind.

"And by saying that, me and my brother, Primo, we have decided it's time to take a step back from the ministry," Secondo continued, his voice steady and resolute. "We've devoted so much of ourselves to the service of the Dark Lord and the ministry, and while it has been a rewarding journey, we believe it's essential to make space for our personal lives as well."

The room fell silent for a moment, as everyone absorbed the significance of their decision.

"We trust in the strength of the ministry, and we have faith that whoever leads the ministry from now on, will carry forward the legacy of our Dark Lord," Secondo added, his gaze sweeping over the gathered guests. "We know that they will continue to thrive and spread His teachings to the world."

Primo raised his glass, and the guests followed suit. "To Terzo and Ann," he proclaimed.

"To Terzo and Ann!" the guests echoed, clinking their glasses together.

You felt nauseous by the words of Secondo, you couldn't shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in your stomach. Terzo leaving the ministry, followed by Primo and Secondo's decision, had taken you by surprise. The suddenness of their choices left you feeling disoriented and anxious about the future.

Amidst the chatter and laughter of the guests, you discreetly glanced around the room, searching for Copia. He was nowhere to be seen, and that only added to your growing unease.

Your thoughts vanished away as you felt a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head in the direction, seeing Terzo looking at you worried.

"Is everything ok, sorella?" He asked, worried about you. "You look pale."

"Y- Yes, Papa," you managed to say, your voice shaking.

Terzo's concern deepened as he watched you, but he nodded understandingly. "Of course, take all the time you need," he said gently, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "If you need to talk or if there's anything I can do, don't hesitate to come to me."

"Thank you, Papa," you replied. "Just, I need to... Please excuse me."

With one last glance, you excused yourself from the table, stating that you needed a moment alone. With each step you took, the knot in your stomach tightened. The need to find Copia became more urgent, you had to understand what was happening.

You walked around the house, looking for him but you couldn't find him in any room. You continued your search for Copia throughout the house. Each room seemed to be empty, and there was no sign of where he might have gone. Your mind raced with possibilities, and the weight of the situation seemed to grow heavier with each passing moment.

You decided to check outside. As you stepped back into the garden, the moon cast a soft glow over the surroundings. You took a few more steps, now walking deeper into the garden, hoping to find any sign of him.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, you spotted him in a corner of the garden, sitting on a bench beneath a tree, away from the noise and celebrations. His shoulders were tense, and his eyes seemed distant, lost in thought.

"Copia," you said gently, taking a seat beside him.

He turned to look at you, his eyes reflecting the same turmoil you felt. "Oh, cara," he murmured.

You hurried, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. "Are you okay?" you asked, concern evident in your voice.

A profound silence hung in the air between you two. Copia's arms wrapped around you tightly, as if he was afraid to let go, and you held him close. You gently ran your fingers through his hair, a soothing gesture that seemed to bring a moment of calm. Copia's breaths gradually slowed, and his tense shoulders began to relax. You could feel the weight of his thoughts and worries, but you also sensed a deep sense of vulnerability. This was a side of Copia you hadn't seen before.

"I just want to protect you," Copia said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I want to keep you safe and make sure nothing comes between us."

Your heart skipped a beat, concern washing over you. "What? What are you talking about, Copia?" you asked, worried. "I'm fine, we are fine."

He hesitated before continuing, reluctantly pulling away from your arms to look into your eyes. "I saw you crying, amore," he confessed. "And it made me realize how much you mean to me, how much you've become a part of my life. I started to think about the future, about us together, about the possibility of... of wanting more. What if that day comes and I... I won't be able to give it to you? What if I... I... Will you leave me? Will they make you leave me?" His voice cracked with vulnerability.

"Yes, I was crying, but it was because of the ceremony," With a gentle touch, you caressed his cheek, reassuring him. "Copia, you are more than enough for me. Whatever the future holds, we will face it together. I don't need anything more than this moment with you. We'll figure things out, step by step. I promise you, I'm not going anywhere. And no one will make me leave you, trust me."

He pulled you into another tight hug, seeking comfort in your arms. You closed your eyes a you nestled your face into the crook of his neck. You took a deep breath, smelling his cologne.

"I love you, Copia," you whispered softly, your breath tickling his skin.

His arms tightened around you, and he pressed a tender kiss on the top of your head. "And I love you, amore mio," he stroke your back with his fingertips, slowly and delicately. "Mi dispiace, I... I needed a moment," he admitted, his voice trembling slightly. "It's just... everything, the ministry, the responsibilities, it's all been so overwhelming lately."

"I understand," you murmured, gently stroking his back to offer comfort. "But you don't have to face it alone, Copia. We're in this together, remember?"

He nodded, his grip on you tightening. "I know, and I'm sorry for pulling away like this. It's just... so much pressure, and I don't want to burden you with it."

"You don't have to carry it all on your own," you reassured him. "Let me be here for you, just as you are here for me."

He sighed, his body relaxing against yours. "Thank you, cara. I don't know what I would do without you."

You smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "You'll never have to find out, because I'm not going anywhere."

Copia smiled after your words, pressing a kiss on your cheek, stroking it with the tip of his nose.

Copia let out a sigh, his gaze shifting slightly. "Probably Secondo told you about him and Primo."

"Yes, they did. You knew they were going to do it?"

"Sì. They told me after one of the most recent meetings we had with Imperator and Nihil."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I... I'm happy for them, but at the same time, I'm nervous." He admitted. "It's a big step for them, and it makes me wonder about future."

You understood the weight of his words, feeling the mixture of emotions in your heart. "Copia, you don't need to think about it now, everything is going to be fine, especially us."

He looked into your eyes, a glimmer of relief shining through. "You're right. I just don't want anything to come between us."

"Nothing will, I promise you. No matter what happens, I'll stand by your side." You reassured him.

Copia reached for your hand and entwined his fingers with yours. His thumb gently caressed the back of your hand, and you leaned in to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

"Amore," he whispered.

"Yes, Copia?"

"Eh... There's a thing I want to ask you, cara."

"What?" you asked curious.

"Do you want to dance with me, amore?" He asked you, in a soft whisper.

"Please." You replied, whispering back to him.

Cardinal Copia rose from the bench, gently bringing your hand to signal it was time to head back to the house. Hand in hand, you strolled back to the house, the moonlight guiding your way. The soft rustle of leaves and distant laughter from the guests created a soothing ambiance as you walked side by side.

As you approached the house, the sounds of music and merriment grew louder, beckoning you to join the festivities once more. You let him lead you to the center of the room, where a soft melody began to play from a nearby speaker. The lights in the room dimmed, casting a warm, romantic glow over the space.

Copia placed one hand gently on your lower back and held your other hand in his, his touch gentle and tender. He held you close, while you rested your head against his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart.

You both swayed gently to the soft music that played in the background. As the soft music enveloped you both, you felt a sense of tranquility wash over you. Copia's arms around you made you feel secure and loved, and his heartbeats against your cheek felt like a comforting rhythm. The worries of the day seemed to melt away, and you focused on the present moment, cherishing this intimate dance with him.

It was as if time had slowed down, you closed your eyes, relishing the feeling of being in his arms, and the subtle scent of his cologne filled your senses.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible over the soft melody.

Copia tightened his hold around you, his lips brushing against your forehead. "I love you too, amore. This is all I need right now, being here with you."

You swayed gently, lost in each other's embrace. As the music reached its final notes, Cardinal Copia dipped you slightly, his eyes locking with yours. He brought you back up, and you shared a tender kiss. You both lingered in each other's arms, not wanting to let go. But with a soft smile, Copia pulled back just enough to look into your eyes.

"Grazie," he murmured, his gaze filled with adoration.

"For what, Copia?"

"For being with me, for loving me, for accepting me," He started, a playful glint in his eyes. "And for that little mishap with the letter in my office..."

"How da- Copia! I didn't steal it!" You chuckled.

"Oh, you didn't, eh? The letter magically appeared inside of your pocket, sì?" He teased with a mischievous grin.

"Yes! I mean, no! I didn't steal it, I found it and it was an accident, then you came in and I had no other choice, I-" you tried to explain, but Copia interrupted you, taking your lips in a gentle kiss, making you take a deep breath. You wrapped your arms around his neck, fully embracing the moment.

"You have a way of getting into trouble, sì?" he whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You playfully nudged him with a smile. "Well, it's all in the name of love, isn't it?"

He chuckled softly, his arms pulling you closer. "I know, amore. I was just teasing you," he said, pulling you closer for another gentle kiss. "I never knew love could be this beautiful until I met you."

You looked into his eyes, smiling. "I feel the same way," you replied, your voice filled with affection. "And I-"

A cough sound interrupted your moment, and both of you turned your eyes to the source of the sound – Terzo standing there, looking at you both.

"Am I interrupting something?" Terzo asked in a teasingly tone.

"No, not at all," Copia replied, giving Terzo a warm smile. However, you noticed a subtle trace of annoyance in his expression, though he quickly masked it.

You smiled nervously, feeling a little embarrassed to have been caught in such an intimate moment. "We were just talking," you added, hoping to ease any potential awkwardness.

Terzo chuckled softly, his eyes gleaming with mirth. "Just talking," he repeated, teasingly.

"What do you want, Terzo?" Copia asked, his voice filled with a hint of annoyance.

"Oh, sì! Ann's family is on their way home, I thought it would be appropriate if the four of us go to talk to them before they leave."

Terzo's wife joined the group, linking her arm with his. "Terzo, my parents are waiting," she said, smiling at him.

Terzo nodded and turned back to you both. "Let's go, fratello," he said, giving you a wink before following his wife.

Copia took a deep sigh, shaking his head. "Cara, why don't you wait for me at our bedroom? I'm going there with Terzo and my brothers, and I'll be with you in a minute."

You nodded understandingly, he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead before you make way out of the room. You walked down the hallways of the house, with your head over the heels. Every step you took felt lighter, as if you were floating on air.

As you reached the bedroom, you couldn't wait to share the rest of the night with Copia. You took a deep breath and stepped inside. The anticipation bubbled within you, You had only some few minute before he come to the bedroom. You quickly turned on the lamps lights, leaving the room in a dimly light, the soft glow of the yellow lamps cast a warm ambiance.

You sat on the bed, removing your high heels and placing them beside the bed. After that, you unzipped your dress slowly, letting it fall to the floor in a graceful heap. As you slipped out of the dress, you heard the door opening, and there stood Copia, a soft smile playing on his lips. His eyes met yours as he closed the door behind him.

Copia took slow, deliberate steps towards you, as if savoring each moment. He looked at you with adoration as he gently cupped your face, and leaned in to kiss you, his lips tender and sweet. You could feel the heat of him against your cheek and neck as he drew closer, until you were pressed up against his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close.

"I hope you didn't wait too long," Copia whispered, against your lips.

"Not at all," you replied, sitting on the bed, slowly laying down. "I just got here."

He joined you on the bed, crawling on the top of you, wrapping his arm around your waist, pulling you close. "So I guess I arrived just in time, sì?" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss on your temple.

"Yes, Copia." You murmured

Slowly, his hands reached for your thighs, caressing your smooth skin. He gently rubbed up and down your legs, his touch light yet firm. His fingertips glided over the soft skin of your inner thighs, causing you to squirm in anticipation.

He leaned in and kissed you softly on the lips. His tongue darted out to taste your lips, which where slightly parted from his gentle touch. You moaned as he licked your lips, and your eyes fluttered closed. Your hands ran through his hair, and his hand slid up your legs. He felt the warmth through the thin material of your panties, and he smiled against your lips.

"Moaning for me, amore?" He whispered, breaking the kiss.

You nodded shyly as your hands traveled to his shoulder, feeling the smooth fabric of his suit under your touch. With careful movements, you began to pull his jacket suit off.

As his jacket came off, revealing the crisp white shirt beneath, you couldn't help but marvel at the sight of him. The desire in his eyes was mirrored in yours. His hands roamed over your body, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, and you felt your heart race in response.

He pressed his lips against yours, and you melted into the kiss, savoring the taste of him. His hands found their way to the strap of your bra, running it down your shoulder, exposing your breasts. You could feel him growing between your legs, pressing against the soft fabric of your panties.

"Ah! Mmm...!" You purred softly, arching your back.

His gaze darkened with desire as he took in the sight of you. You wrapped your legs around his body, squeezing him tightly, pressing his body against yours. He groaned, giving you a wickedly smile.

"Already so needy, eh?" He teased you, grinning devilishly.

His hand quickly made their way to your panties, running his fingers along the soaked fabric. You moaned in pleasure as his fingers began to move faster, pressing against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. Your started to roll your hips, closing your eyes.

"Copia," you hissed, closing your eyes. "P-Please...!" One of your hands reached your panties, pulling it aside, giving him a better access.

His fingers slid between your folds, feeling your arousal. You let out a loud moan as he pushed two fingers inside you. He moved them slowly, watching your face as he thrust his fingers inside of you.

"Is it good, cara?" he asked, increasing his pace, thrusting his fingers deeper inside of you.

"Oh! Yes! That's it..." you moaned in a murmur, closing your eyes.

He pulled back his hand, causing you to open your eyes. He brought it close to his mouth, sticking out his tongue, running it over his wet fingers from your juice. You gasped, staring at him, fixed on his tongue running between his fingers. His eyes locked with yours, the intensity of his gaze sending shivers down your spine.

"Tu hai sempre un sapore dolce," he whispered, his voice low and filled with desire.

He went with his hands to the waistband of your panties, slowly sliding them down your legs. You lifted your hips, allowing him to remove it. He tossed them aside and sat on the bed, his eyes locked onto yours as he untied the tie around his neck. With deliberate movements, he removed the tie, his hands then moving to the buttons of his shirt. His gaze never wavered from yours, and you could feel the intensity of his desire with every passing second.

Your heart pounded in your chest, matching the rhythm of your breaths as you watched him unbuttoned his shirt slowly, revealing glimpses of his bare chest. Once the last button was undone, he let the shirt fall open, revealing more of his body, your eyes traced the hair on his chest connected to his belly, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of desire washing over you. The way he looked at you, with that smoldering gaze, made your skin tingle and your legs squeeze.

He lowered his body again, with his shirt now completely open. You reached out, running your fingers lightly across his chest. His breath hitched, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a hungry kiss.

You grabbed his shirt, pulling it off his shoulders. He raised himself up, allowing you to take it off. You threw it to the floor and ran your hands down his torso before wrapping your arms around his neck, shifting your positions, so that you were now sitting on his lap. Your lips met his, and he kissed you back with a passion that took your breath away. Your tongue danced in his mouth, as he sucked on it, gently biting at it.

His hands roamed over your body, feeling every curve and contour of your skin. He pulled away from you, only to place soft kisses along your jaw line, and then along your neck.

"Mmm... Copia..." you purred his name, biting your lower lip feeling the warmth of his lips against your skin.

He continued to kiss, licking and sucking your neck. He reached behind you, and unhooked your bra, freeing your breasts. He pulled away from you, and his intense gaze traced every inch of your body, causing a warm blush to spread across your cheeks.

"Per l'amore di Satana, sei bellissima." He said, lowering his head, sucking on your nipple. You whimpered loud, feeling his tongue swirl around your nipple, causing you to squirm against him.

He moved his mouth to your other breast, and began to suck on it as well. You moaned softly, arching your back. His fingers, gently caressed your stomach, moving slowly upwards. You bit your lip hard, trying to contain yourself. His hand cupped your breast, squeezing it softly, making you gasp. He smiled against your breast, and then lowered his head again, taking your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it hard. Your hands moved to his head, running through his hair, as he sucked hard.

"C-Oh!.. Copia..."

You felt his tongue flicker against your nipple, sending a shiver through your entire body. You gasped, feeling his teeth bite gently your nipple. He began to move his hand from your breast to your thigh, slowly moving towards your center.

"Amore... You're a temptation," he whispered against your ear. You could feel his hand getting closer and closer to your core. "Non posso controllarmi."

You whimpered, wanting nothing more than for him to touch you. He smiled, and then leaned forward, kissing you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth, tasting you. You opened your mouth wider, allowing him to explore it. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close.

He broke the kiss, and looked deep into your eyes. "I want you, amore. I... Volere fare l'amore con tu." He said, his voice rough and husky. "Mio amore..." He murmured against your lips.

"I love you, Copia." You whispered back, smiling at him.

"I love you, cara." He whispered back, kissing you again, and then moved down your neck, licking and nibbling on your skin. "Amore... Per favore... Let me taste you."

You nodded, preparing to remove your legs from around him, but he stopped you by gently grabbing your hips, keeping you firmly on his lap. His expression was serious, yet there was a hint of lust.

"No!" his grip on your hips tightening. "I... Per favore, sit on my face." He said, biting his lip.

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared into his eyes, trying to decide if you were brave enough to do this. You couldn't help but giggle at the request.

"What?" you asked confused.

"Let me eat you out, cara." He said, his eyes pleading with yours.

"Copia... I don't know if I can." You replied, unsure.

"Cara, I've never done this before, so please let me try." He said, his hands stroking your thighs.

You bit your lip, and then nodded. "O-Ok..." You whispered, not trusting you to speak any louder.

He grinned, guiding you onto your knees. He pulled you forward, pushing his face between your legs. You gasped as you felt his hot breath on your core.

"Copia... Are you sure about this?" You said, looking down at him, worried.

Copia didn't reply you, instead, he stuck out his tongue holding your hip, sitting you down on his face. He started to lick your clit, flicking his tongue against it. Your head fell back, your eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of his tongue. You grabbed his hair, holding him tightly against you. You pushed your hips forward, trying to get more of his tongue on you, he groaned against your core, and then sucked hard on your clit.

"Copia!" you moaned, grinding your hips against his face. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes."

He lapped at your flesh faster, and then flicked his tongue over your clit, making you cry out. You grabbed the headboard top rail with both of your hands, and started to grind hard against his face. One of his hands left your hip, reaching for his pants, unbuttoning them with a sense of urgency. He quickly unzipped them, pulling his length out of his underwear and then he started to stroke himself, growling against your slick folds.

You threw your head back, overwhelmed with pleasure, and let out a gasp as your whole body trembled. You turned your face above your shoulders, watching him stroking his throbbing length. Your eyes widened as you saw it, you tried to pull away, but he held you tight against his face. He plunged his tongue into your entrance, rubbing the tip of his nose onto your clit in circles. You rolled your eyes to the back of your head, opening your mouth in a silent moan, your entrance twitching around his tongue.

You felt you could come come at any moment. He removed his tongue inside of you, and flicked it again across your clit, making you jerk, then sucked it between his lips. You gasped, arching your back and pressing yourself down on his face, feeling his tongue inside you once again. He thrust his tongue deep inside you, making you cry out, and then slowly withdrew it.

He repeated this motion over and over, each time going deeper until his tongue was all the way inside you. You cried out, trying to push your hips forward to get more of him inside you, but he held you firmly.

"Copia! Please!" You screamed out, your body shuddering.

You tensed up and quickly moved away, sitting on his chest as you caught your breath. Your heart was racing, and you took a moment to compose yourself, trying to steady your breathing. Copia immediately stopped stroking his length, concern etched on his face as he sat on the bed, gently holding your back.

"What happened, amore?" he asked softly, worry evident in his voice.

You took a deep breath, looking into Copia's concerned eyes. "I... I just... I..." you tried to reply him, but you were breathing heavily.

He looked at you grinning mischievously. "Was it that good, cara?"

You nodded, looking at him. He wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him, leaving his face only a few inches far from yours.

"Let me make you feel even better then." He whispered, looking at your eyes.

You blushed, feeling his hardness pressing against your thigh. He leaned in, and kissed you passionately. His tongue darted into your mouth, you could taste yourself on his tongue. You pressed your body against his, wrapping your arms around his neck. You could feel his hardness pressing against your stomach, and you ground your hips onto him, letting him know how much you wanted him. He broke the kiss, and you looked at him.

"Copia, please, fuck me." You whispered, closing your eyes. "Please, I need to feel you inside of me."

He smiled, holding his length on his hand, slowly sliding his length up and down your slit, spreading your juices over the swollen head, making you moan with pleasure.

"Co... Oh! Please," you whispered. "Please I need you inside of me."

He teased you, rubbing the tip along your clit, the slowly pushing himself inside of you. You gasped as you felt him fill you up, stretching you completely. He held still for a moment, just enjoying the sensation. Then, he began to thrust into you, slowly at first, but quickly picking up speed.

"Cazzo!" He moaned loud, biting his lower lip. "Your pussy always feels so good, always so wet."

Your walls tightened around his member, gripping it tightly, wanting more. "Ah! Copia! You're so big, fuck! feels so good...!"

He began to pick up the pace, thrusting harder and deeper into you. You felt every inch of him, wrapping your legs around his waist. His hands grabbed your ass, squeezing it hard. Your hands found their way to his back, your nails digging into his skin. He groaned, and slammed deeper into you. He pounded into you harder, making you cry out. He grabbed your hair, pulling your head back.

"Oh, Satan! Copia, you fuck me so good." You moaned, going with your hands on his chest, pushing him down onto the bed, starting to ride his length.

"Sì amore, sì, like that, fuck your tight pussy on my cock," his hands went to your thighs, holding then firmly. "Just like that, merda!"

You rode him faster, grinding your clit against his pelvis. He reached around, rubbing it, while you bounced up and down on him. With his other hand on your hips, he pushed you down on his length. He threw his head back, and you slowed down, riding him slowly. He grabbed your hips, and pulled you off of him, laying you down. He spread your legs wide, and began to lick your inner thighs.

"Copia, stop teasing me, and fuck me." You begged.

He grinned, and got between your legs, putting them over his shoulders. He held hiss length in one hand, and guided it into you. He slid in easily, and you let out a loud moan. He thrust into you, filling you up completely, and held there.

"Fu- Fuck!" You closed your eyes, arching your back. "Please, move, please Copia, fuck!"

He started to thrust fast, pounding into you harder. He leaned down, leaving his face close to yours, looking into your eyes. You wrapped your arms around his neck, locking your gaze with his. He cupped your face with one hand, and pounded into you harder. The room got filled with the sound of his hips slapping against yours, moaning sounds and heavy breathings.

"You're so good amore, you feel so good, I love how wet you get for me." He grunted, and kept his movements hard and fast.

He buried his face in your neck, kissing and biting it. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of you. Your walls tightening around his member. He picked up the pace, hitting the right spot inside of you. You bit your lower lip, feeling him holding your hips, biting your neck, causing you to moan loud. He pulled you up, and flipped you over, pushing you down on all your fours. He put his hand on your hips, and slid his length back again inside of you, pumping into you fast.

"Copi-Ah...! Oh, Fuck! Oh! Copia, Copia! Your cock is so good, you fuck me so goo-Oh!"

You felt so full, like he was tearing you apart. He pushed himself deeper inside of you, making you cry out. His hands were gripping your hips tightly, holding you down as he pumped faster. You were screaming his name, begging for more. You felt him hit that spot inside of you again, making you feel like you were going to explode.

"Oh! Satan!" You cried out. "Please, don't stop!"

He looked at you with a smile, and kept going. You felt yourself about to cum, and he stopped. He pulled out of you, and you whimpered in disappointment. He grabbed you by the hair, and yanked you up, leaving you on your knees. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing your body against his, and shoved his length deep inside of you. You screamed out, as he slammed into you, pounding you hard.

"Oh! Cazzo! I'm close, amore, I'm close." He groaned close to your ear.

"Ah... Copia! Please," you moaned, holding his arms around your waist. "Please Copia, cum inside of me, please." You begged. "I'm so close too, ple-Ah!"

You felt him tensing up, and he let out a loud groan. "Are you sure, cara? you really want it?"

You nodded, closing your eyes, feeling your orgasms building up inside of you. "Please, please. Copia, I need to feel it inside of me!"

"I'm going, cara, I'm going to cum inside of your tight pussy, fuck!" His thrusts became erratic as he pumped his length deeper inside of you, "Merda, amore! I'm going to-" with a last move, you felt him cumming inside of you, filling you up with loads of his seed.

The feeling of his hot seed filling you deep inside, made you clench your walls around his member, squeezing it in a tight contraction, coming right after him in an intense orgasm, letting a loud moan escape your lips.

"Copia!" You screamed out his name, throwing your head back, biting your lower lip to contain another loud moan.

You collapsed on bed, breathing heavily, your legs trembling and you brought them together, squeezing, as you felt his hot seed dripping out from your entrance.

He turned you, leaving a kiss on your forehead. Slowly, he leaned in closer, embracing you tenderly. Your hands gently reached for his head, your fingers intertwining in the locks of his hair. Both of you were breathing heavily, hearts beating in sync with the intensity of the moment.

For some moment you two remained in silence, only enjoying the moment. In that moment, time seemed to stand still as you both basked in the intimacy of your embrace. No words were needed; the connection between you was strong, and the silence spoke volumes.

With a deep sigh you, pressed a kiss on his head, breaking the silence as you spoke.

“I love you, Copia,” you whispered softly, your voice filled with sincerity and affection. “I’m so grateful to have you in my life.”

Copia shifted slightly, his head resting on your chest as he gazed up at you with a gentle smile. “And I love you, more than words can express,” he replied.

He rolled to his side, lying down. You followed his lead, rolling to your side and snuggling close to him. Your bodies fit perfectly together.

"Copia... I need to go to the bathroom, take a quick shower and I'll come back to bed, ok?" you asked him, pressing a kiss on his chest.

Copia smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Of course, amore. Take your time, I’ll be here waiting for you,” he said, his voice warm and affectionate.

You got up from the bed, feeling a little drowsy. As you made your way to the bathroom, Copia watched you with fondness in his eyes, appreciating the sight of you moving gracefully.

Once inside the bathroom, you turned on the shower, feeling the warm water cascade over your body. The sensation was soothing, and it helped wash away any remaining tension from the day’s events. You took your time, enjoying the simple pleasure of the water against your skin.

After the quick shower, you dried yourself off and wrapped a fluffy towel around your body. As you stepped out of the bathroom, you saw him standing close to his luggage, a sense of urgency in his demeanor. Your heart sank as you sensed something was wrong.

"What is happening, Copia?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing unease.

"I have to go back to the Ministry," he replied, his voice tinged with regret.

"What? Now?" Panic started to rise within you. "I'm going to get dressed as fast as I can. I'm coming with you."

"No, you're not coming with me," he said firmly.

"What do you mean I'm not coming with you? Copia, I can't just let you go alone."

"Please, amore, I just have to go back," he pleaded, trying to explain without giving away too much.

"What is happening? Tell me, please," you implored.

"You have to trust me," he said softly, his eyes searching yours for understanding.

"I trust you, Copia, but I just don't understand what is happening," you said, feeling tears welling up in your eyes.

"Please, amore, don't cry," he said, pulling you into a comforting embrace. "Amore, per favore, trust me. I promise I'll explain everything as soon as I can. I'm going to ask Secondo to give you a lift to the Ministry. Tomorrow we will be together, sì? And everything," he paused, trying to reassure you, "will be fine."

You nodded, trying to believe his words, but the uncertainty still gnawed at your heart. Deep down, you knew you had to let him go, trusting that he would be waiting for you tomorrow. But the fear of the unknown and the possibility of being separated left a heavy weight on your shoulders.

"I don't want to leave you, amore," he finally spoke, his voice tinged with regret. "But there are things I have to attend to, things that can't wait."

"But can't we... Can't I go with you?" you asked, your heart aching at the thought of being separated from him. "I don't wan-" you said in a low tone, but paused immediately, taking a deep sigh.

Copia sighed, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly. "I wish it were that simple, cara. There are matters within the ministry that require my immediate attention, and it's something I can't involve you in."

You nodded, trying to muster a smile even though your heart felt heavy. "Just promise me I'll see you tomorrow when I get back to the ministry, Copia."

He held you close, his embrace providing a fleeting sense of comfort. "I do, amore. I promise you."

With that, he reluctantly let you go, and you watched as he gathered his belongings and prepared to leave. As he stood by the door, he turned to look at you one last time, his eyes filled with longing and affection.

"I love you," he said, his voice firm with conviction.

"I love you too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

With a heavy heart, you watched him leave, knowing that he had his reasons but still wishing he didn’t have to go. As the door closed behind him, you felt a sense of emptiness. What was happening? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow? Why he had to go back now? So many questions and you had no answer for them. You just hopped to see him tomorrow at night, when you'd be back to the ministry.

Chapter 8

Grammar ⸻

Cara - Dear Sì - Yes/Right Amore - Love Per favore - Please Sei così bella - You're so beautiful Che diavolo - What the hell Diavoletta - Little devil Grazie - Thank you Fratello - Brother Bellissima - Beautiful Sei troppo dolce per il cuore di questo vecchio - You are too sweet for this old man's heart Bella - Beautiful Sorella - Sister Non cominciare neanche - Don't even start Cosa? Sono solo curioso! Non puoi negare di averci già pensato - What? I'm just curious! You can't deny you've already thought about it Tu hai sempre un sapore dolce - You always taste sweet Per l'amore di Satana, sei bellissima - For the love of Satan, you're beautiful Amore mio, non posso controllarmi - My love, I can't control myself Volere fare l'amore con tu - Want to make love to you Cazzo - Fuck Merda - Shit

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