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#also still figuring out how to draw a y/n……
victarin · 11 months
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y/n infodumping :) also some sun doodles + a monty …. !!
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balloonboyismyson · 6 months
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Toy Chica x Reader? Just because she needs more love and there isn't a lot of content for her from what I've seen 👉👈
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I AGREE!!!!! I HONESTLY DO NOT THINK I HAVE EVER SEEN IT???
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itsharleystuff · 1 year
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- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛ 𝐌Í𝐀 ❜┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌
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Gif not mine!
— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Javier Peña x afab!fem reader (implied hispanic/latina)
— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.3k
— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: After a major fight between the two of you, a month goes by in which you give each other the silent treatment, figuring out if you should start seeing different people. However, Javier has a problem: he can’t get his dick hard for anyone that isn’t you. So, when he sees how easily you can move on from him, he gets awfully jealous.
— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), sex, possessive/jealous behavior, unprotected sex, p in v, cuffs, slight dirty talk, semi-public sex, use of ‘slut’, pet names (sweetheart, corazón, cariño, hermosa, etc.), praise kink, come eating, oral sex (f! & m! receiving), mentions of drugs, smoking, a bit of angst, very little plot (mostly filth), weirdly structured plot. I think that’s it.
— a/n: there’s some phrases and words in Spanish, some are translated and some aren’t. Let me know if translations are needed :)
No use of y/n.
-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈
Javier Peña has never been a jealous man.
It's simply never been in his nature, not even when he was a child playing around with toys that he loved to share. And nowadays? Well, he had other stuff in mind that didn't leave any room for those pedestrian feelings.
As of now, he -supposedly- didn't have anything to be worried about. Specially not women.
Everyone knew he fucked hookers so good that they'd spill all their secrets in his ear, and that he was attractive enough to leave a bar with company just after a couple of minutes from arriving there. But to anyone observant, it was obvious how bad he had it for you.
Still, that didn't stop him from being an asshole.
You remember the last time you two spoke and how it turned out to be a fucking disaster: basically, he didn't like the idea of exclusivity because it involved feelings that he wasn't ready to admit, so you had called him a slut (along with many other insults) and he'd said that you were childish and sensitive. So naturally, everything went downhill after that fight.
Currently, things were pretty tense with Javier, even at work. But things just got worse when the Colombian police sent you onto an undercover mission, nothing really extravagant but still quite dangerous. And apparently, the DEA knew nothing about it.
The task was rather simple: you'd go to one of Medellin's busiest nightclubs and find out if there was a cocaine distribution line working there. The problem was what the agent had overheard from Carrillo. Not only did he knew now that you were at the place, but he also had word that one of the cartel's most wanted sicarios was about to be there too. And knowing the Coronel as well as he did, you were right in the middle of a crossfire. He arrived at the club earlier than any of them, hoping to find you quickly and draw you out before the asset came in.
But, oh hell.
What he saw the minute he stepped in almost made him lose his shit.
⩇⩇:⩇⩇
You had no business being in there this late. You'd already passed down all the information needed to your boss and now you were just waiting for the cartel's member to arrive so you could call Carrillo and let him finish the job.
But in the meantime, you decided to at least try and have some fun. After everything that went on with Peña, you felt like you deserved a distraction.
The music was loud, reggaetón reverberating in your body as you danced, eyes wide awake in case the target decided to show up. The stranger you were dancing with had his hands all over your body, holding you close to him while you moved in synch. He was handsome in a boyish way, and a bit clumsy, but good enough to take your mind off from the irritating DEA agent. At least for now.
To be honest, you didn't lack any attention at the moment. Both men and women would come up to you, hoping to get a piece of what you had to offer. It came without saying that everything about you tonight resulted appealing to the kind of people that frequented the place, being an undercover assignment you did your best to blend in. And it seemed to work out wonderfully. The flashy makeup and short dress that only accentuated your figure made you stand out amongst the rest; nevertheless, what really attracted everyone's gaze wasn't any of that, but the confidence with which you'd walk around the place like you owned it.
"¿Qué tal si nos vamos pa' un lugar más oscurito, mamacita?" (How about we go to a more private place?) The guy, whose name you didn't even know, proposed. And though the idea sounded nice, your job wasn't quite finished.
"Not yet, papi. Dame un par de canciones más." (Let's dance a bit more). He hummed in response, his hands traveling from your lower back to grab your ass firmly.
"Usted manda." (You call the shots). The answer made you smile cheekily as you lean in to him, hoping to connect his lips with yours.
However, you definitely didn't expect to be abruptly pulled back with force instead, ripping you apart from the man's hold.
"What the hell..." you start to complain and twist in the strangers grasp, who started to drag you out the dance floor and keeping your wrists behind your back.
"Hombre, ¿pero qué diablo' le pasa?" (What's wrong with you, man?). Asked your poor companion, glancing over at the guy that took you away from him.
But you knew exactly who he was even before he spoke. You'd recognize that musky cologne anywhere, mixed with the scent of cigarette smoke. Damn, even your body recognized him so well that the way his fingertips dig on your skin flooded your mind with memories from the past.
"Peña." You mutter through gritted teeth, not bothering to turn your head towards him.
"It's agent Peña to you, sweetheart." He snarls, completely blowing off anyone that would try to get in his way to lug you outside.
A new, fueled up rage crept up your spine while he harshly pulls you to te entrance, right were you see the colonel's target going in.
"Let go of me, mierda!" You struggle against him, not wanting to actually put on a fight but just make him reason. "I have a fucking job to do, so let go of me or..."
"Or what?" Javier spins you around carelessly, leaving your face so close to his that your breaths merged with each other's, chest pressed against your own as he keeps you still, his hands gripping you so hard that it would certainly leave bruises.
"I need to call Carrillo. I'm working, even if you don't believe it." You tell him, letting your racing heartbeat start to settle.
The man's eyes were dark, covered by a shadow of anger that matched his stern expression. He was always handsome, but whenever he'd get mad, Javi was hot. Although it was unusual for you to see him like this, him being always attentive and careful, though still very passionate. He would never explode, not even when the stress and tension became too much to handle. But then, you realize...
"No way..." you scoff, keeping direct eye contact. "You're jealous, aren't you?"
His reaction is immediate, turning your body again and flushing your face against the trunk of his jeep Cherokee, bending you over the car. You gasp audibly, feeling the cold metal under your cheek and his body towering upon you while he holds you down by the back of your neck. Javier's lips brush the top of your ear when he leans down to you.
"The fuck do I need to be jealous about, cariño?" He whispers lowly, his hot breath giving you goosebumps and making your knees tremble. "Eres mía, you've always been."
Ah, fuck.
Despite all the shit that you went through with him, the effect he had on you remained the same. No matter what, the agent was aware of it, conscious of how you'd always melt under his touch, he just knew all your sweet spots by core memory and what'll have you squirming underneath him. Yeah, even if your mind tried it's best to erase Peña, your body would always betray you.
"You lost your chance." You mutter in a bittersweet tone. "Now get the hell off me so I can finish my task."
He doesn't instantly let go, but eventually loosens the grip on your nape. Though right when you thought he'd actually let you free, there's a cold metallic sensation brushing on your wrist and you suddenly can't move your arms from your back. The motherfucker had just cuffed you.
"Malparido, hijo de..." You ramble, straightening your back to glance at him in exasperation.
"Don't move." He growls, opening the driver's door and taking his radio out. The agent starts to talk through it, but you're way too outraged as to pay any attention, your vision going red when you catch your name, the words 'Carrillo', 'sicario' and the place were you're at, figuring out that he's doing the part of the job that corresponded to you.
"You're sick, Peña." There's no reply to the snarky comment as he simply shoves you in the back of his truck, rather carefully, considering the situation.
You watch intently while he gets back on his seat, analyzing every detail about him. It wasn't anything special, you had seen him quite often at work after your fight, and nonetheless, now... Something seemed off.
Javier was wearing a red button shirt under his black leather jacket, from which he drew out a pack of cigs and a lighter. He appeared the same, however, you could sense the tension on his shoulders and back, the kind you'd help him deal with before, and it almost felt like he was holding back from doing something. Heck, you hated it. You completely despised arguing with him, being apart from the man almost made you physically unwell.
But that was the root of this whole problem. You were able to admit it; how much you liked him and didn't want anyone else. Him on the other hand, wasn't ready for all that. Although, despite him implying that he couldn't fully commit or correspond to your feelings... Right now, his actions were very contradicting.
Because Javier Peña never got jealous.
And yet, there he was.
Perhaps, if you spurred him on just enough and cornered him in a trap... Perhaps then, he'd be able to admit it. 
"So what now, agent?" You wonder, laying your back flat on the leather sit, feeling the coldness of the material on your exposed skin and trying to find a comfortable position. "You mind explaining yourself?"
He looks at you through the rear-view mirror, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. A challenging fire shines in your eyes when you lock glances with him. But he doesn't say anything, simply starting the car and getting the windows down before lighting up a cigarette.
"What about you, sweetheart?" He asks, the fag hanging from between his lips as he starts driving away from the club. "Care for elaborating on your actions?"
You snort, gaze diverting towards the window. "I was just killing time."
The streets of Medellin were loud and busy, specially on the weekends. But at the moment, the paths were dark and quiet, as if everyone knew that there was a storm coming and they had to stay out of the hood.
"So that's your idea of 'killing time'?" He comes again, tapping the cigar out his window to leave the ashes behind. "Letting random men grope you in those wrenched bars?" You grin, still defying him with your attitude. "And yet, I'm the slut..."
"You must certainly are, Peña." You reply condescendingly, watching the road. "When I was with you, that was it. No one else even crossed my mind. But then, you? How many other women did you have besides me?"
He grunts, taking a long drag without looking back in your direction. You recognize certain spots and locals, but none of them were anywhere close to your apartment. Instead of asking were he was taking you to, the idea you previously had lingers on your mind.
Red light.
"You know, ever since we... Well, ghosted each other. I've actually had tons of fun." His eyes darkened, but no matter all the warning signs he was sending with his body, you just couldn't hold back anymore, starting to play a game that might get out of control. "Actually, you know that guy working with the CIA? Balcázar?"
Javier looked so gorgeous while driving. His big hands over the lever and muscles flexing whenever he'd make sudden moves. Even now, tense as an arrow an white-knuckling the wheel at your words, he was the hottest man you'd seen.
"Shit, he’s good..." you purr, slightly arching your back so he'll get a better view of your breasts, barely contained in that tiny dress you were wearing. "I really miss him. Hated it when he went back to New York."
His stormy glare was on you, watching closely every single move you made. Your legs were briefly parted, just enough for him to peek a sight of your laced underwear. The agent's breathing became ragged and he had to try his best to stay concentrated.
"Careful, cariño." You hear him rasp out with a hint of danger. "You really don't want to go there."
Green light.
He puts the cigarette out and throws the tail away carelessly.
"Ay, Peña." Your voice goes an octave lower, licking your lips. "Don't act like you haven't been to every brothel in the city trying to fill in my spot."
The man huffs a laugh, shaking his head in disapproval. "I know what you're doing." You look at him through your lashes, faking innocence and confusion. "But if you really want me to say it, there hasn't been anyone else."
"Yeah, right..." That mocking tone was really getting on his nerves.
"Not even when we were together." Javi sulks out.
"Then why was it so difficult for you to be serious with me?" You question grimly. "Do you not like me?"
His eyes bore back into yours somberly, as if you'd just said the stupidest thing in the world despite the graveness in your voice and expression, lazily scanning you head to toe.
"Like you?" It sounded like he was struggling not to come off sardonic, cocking an eyebrow at you. "I can't believe you just asked me that."
You lean in towards him when he takes an unexpected turn, inhaling his particular scent mixed with the leather and smoke. Suddenly, he parks the car someplace dark and empty that resembled an abandoned gas station. Kind of creepy, but you recognized the area now. It was a neighborhood located a couple of blocks away from his apartment.
"Why?" You coo, taunting, patiently testing how much he'd spill. But Javier won't meet your glance, focused on the nothingness ahead of him.
"Because I can't even get my dick hard for any other women, for fucks sake!" He howls, rubbing his face with his palm, clearly pissed.
At first, you thought he must've been joking. But the way he said it came out so frustrated that it made it hard to believe he was lying. His bold statement gave you a rush of power, knowing that you had him in mind and body, the man that made every woman he acquainted feel like a schoolgirl crushing on a senior. You understood why he was so mad right now; it wasn't only cause he was jealous, but because he hated seeing that you could easily move on to the next man while he remained stuck.
Though it was a lie. You only responded to him and you wanted to prove him that. But Javier had to acknowledge the mistake he made.
"Perhaps you're just old." You teased, "Have you tried pills for that?"
His reaction was so unexpected that you had barely any time to process the circumstances. He got out the car and opened the passenger's seat, tugging at your arm to get you out the jeep apprehensively.
"Take a guess, sweetheart." He grits next to your ear, his chest pressed to your back.
"Fucking hell..." you mewl at the feeling of Javier's hard boner firm against your ass. His hands hold your waist for a second before manhandling you to the edge of the back passenger's seat, hunching down in front of you with both hands gently gripping the exposed flesh of your thighs and looking up at you with fiery eyes.
"If you want me to say it, fine." He bites, giving up. "I made a mistake. It was stupid." Then his tone denotes the way he's struggling to contain anger. "I can't bear it. Seeing you with other men... It drives me insane. I can't even think straight- shit, I almost blew a whole ass operation tonight just because I saw you dancing with that guy." You gulp, remembering how furious he was just a few moments ago. "But let's not fool ourselves, cariño. We both know you haven't slept with anyone else either."
How he figured that out was a mystery to you. Maybe he truly was a very good agent.
There isn't a retort in your behalf. What could you possibly say anyway? He had you figured out already, he always did.
Back in the day, when you first started working with him, Javier acted like a complete shithead. Him an Murphy would give you a hard time with the DEA, always getting in trouble, messing up your schedules and bribing confidential information out of you. That's how you grew closer to him. Peña used to invite you for dinner or beers as an apology, granted that he always looked forward to take you back to his apartment, of course. Except you had heard the rumors regarding his reputation, and that was a well in which you weren't particularly eager to fall in, specially since he was a coworker.
Yet, it was all in vain. How could you ever say no to him if he'd look at you with those sparkly, deep brown eyes that resembled a lost puppy? You fell for Javi's smug smirk, the groovy hair, plus that confident and bite-back attitude of his, knowing how it would eventually end. Even so, no one could really blame you. He acted different around you, people were able to tell, brighter, more open and honest.
"See, I'm sorry about what I said..." you start, but he cuts you off.
"Don't be. I deserved that shit." The man stands up, taking a bunch of keys from the pocket of his jeans and going to take off the cuffs. "You should feel sorry for all those poor guys you toyed with while thinking about me the whole time."
You stretch your arms and massage your wrists, unwilling to meet his intense gaze, conscious that you'd fall for his charm immediately. He worked smarter, grabbing your chin to raise your face towards him.
"Did you enjoy it?" He hissed, fingertips digging on your jaw with moderate force. "Having other men grab your ass while everyone watches? Teasing the hell out of me in the office with those obscenely tight skirts and talking to Murphy as if I wasn't right beside him?" Your tongue darts out to lick your lower lip, not breaking eye contact. "Answer me, corazón."
"Yes," you respond cockily, "I enjoyed it." His face swiftly sobered, a muscle feathering in his jaw. "But I didn't think it had any effect on you, so it felt like a waste of time and effort."
Javier laughs huskily, bending forward. You close your eyes, thinking he's going in for a kiss, but instead his lips go to rest on your jawline, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your neck and all the way down to the valley of your breasts. As of now, you're a panting mess, already turned on by his adamant behavior. The fact that you were finally getting to feel him like this after a month or so of completely ignoring each other... It felt divine.
Your tug at his shoulder as he keeps nibbling the sensitive skin. The agent knew your body better than anyone else ever could, he'd memorized all the spots that would have you moaning and squirming underneath him, which was the case just now.
"Javi..." you sigh, running your hand through his hair.
"You're such a fucking brat." He reflects, kneeling between your parted legs. "A month ago I was merely a ghost to you, a few minutes prior I was simply 'Peña'. But when my lips are on you I'm suddenly 'Javi'?" He boasts with a devilish grin. "How convenient..."
"Mmm..." he laughs gruffly at your loss of words, his fingers hooking your underwear beneath the dress and slowly pulling it down.
At this point you're so wet it's embarrassing. It was probably due to the lack of sex you've had recently, or perhaps you were really growing fond of this new phase of his and the idea of Javier being possessive over you.
"Don't you dare look away." He warns roughly, peeling the fabric off you with a tad of your help. "Keep your eyes on me. I'll only tell you this once."
You nod eagerly. "Javi, are we- are we going to do it here?" It wouldn't be a new thing, you've done similar stuff in the past, though never in such an open space, despite appearing deserted. "Your place is barely a few blocks away..." His lips graze the soft skin of your upper leg, the feeling of his mustache raising goosebumps on your body.
"Can't wait." He stated, voice tinted with lust whilst his palm caresses your calf. "Need you now."
Somehow that made the pit of your stomach feel warmer. The rush of excitement coming from that desire he had for you had gave a thrill of control, completely ignoring how he was the one in charge of this situation. Javier carefully slips your dress upwards, taking in every single reaction you had to his touch and cursing at the sight of your throbbing pussy. The heat of his breath against your exposed core only increased your arousal, seemingly encouraging him.
"Shit, this cunt really did miss me, huh?" You nod again, basking in the contact of his nose brushing your clit, sending shivers down your spine.
In spite of your low whimpers of need, he deliberately denied you of his touch were you most needed him, simply roaming his lips and fingers over your inner thighs and pubic bone. Desperate, you scratch his scalp softly, pulling a groan from him.
"Javi, please..." he was definitely going to make you beg for it, regardless of how much he wanted it too. 
"Did you let anyone else do this to you?"
"No." You breathe out.
"Good." His thumb suddenly falls on your clit, rubbing slow circles. You squeal from the spontaneousness of the action, squeezing your eyes shut for a second. "This is mine." Then he slides down his finger to slightly part your swollen lips, coating it with your slick. "All mine."
"Sí, Javi."
"That's right, corazón." He murmurs, slipping two digits into you. "I'm going to fuck you so good that you won't ever think about anyone else." He sets a pace pretty quickly, pumping his fingers in and out, curling them to hit all the right spots. "I'm the only man for you. Understand that?"
"Yes, shit-" you choke down a moan when he mildly pinches your nub. "You are."
He makes a satisfied noise before diving in your pussy, starting to lick and kiss your clit without pulling out his fingers, maintaining a relentless pace and rejoicing himself in the sounds he'd pull from you.
"Fuck, that's good..." you manage to say, knowing how he likes the praise, your hand messing up his hair.
Javier pulls away for a second, grabbing your thighs to part them further and place your legs over his shoulders eagerly, hungrily looking up at you. You arch your back, ever so responsive to him while struggling to maintain a hold of yourself.
"So pretty." He whispers, admiring how your chest goes up and down from your rag breathing, your face contorted by pleasure as his fingers disappear in your cunt, the squelching sounds of your pussy and the moans spilling from your lips making him painfully hard. "Toda mía."
Your legs were already shaking, your body being so sensitive and needy. Specially for him. Always for him. But it wasn't enough and you both knew that. Though before you can beg him for more, his mouth takes place were his digits used to be, eating you out as if you were his favorite meal, lapping you up kind of selfishly, almost like he did it for his own pleasure.
"Javi, that's-" you can't even form coherent sentences without being interrupted by your cries of pleasure. "Too fucking good."
His tongue is hot and soft between your folds, licking up your slit as he rubs tight circles on your clit, fucking you greedily and moaning graciously against your slickness. Also, the image of him between your legs was always a sight to see, adding to the pool of arousal. You start seeing white spots and the knot in your lower stomach starts to loosen as the orgasm approaches, gripping the leather seat as if your life depended on it. It's a good thing that he's holding you, cause in a matter of seconds your whole body starts to tremble and his name leaves your lips repeatedly.
"I can't- shit!" You pull his hair involuntarily and he groans in response, the sound vibrating through your core and pushing you to the edge. "I'm gonna..."
You can't even finish speaking before you're coming undone in his mouth, feeling the hot waves of satisfaction wash over you. He doesn't pull away until you're practically whining from the overstimulation, trying to regain composure as he licks you clean. When he does, his eyes peer at you, intoxicated with desire as he starts to stand on his feet, towering over you.
"I missed that sweet taste of yours." He licks his glistening lips and you wish he'd finally kiss you. "Can't get enough of it."
Your hands reach his belt, trying to unbuckle it, but he takes your wrists to stop you.
"What's wrong?" You question, genuinely confused.
"I'm taking you to my apartment. I'm doing this properly." He retorts. However, you're too turned on now to care about the place.
"Please Javi, let me do something for you." One thing that made him go stupidly insane for you was the way you were never coy when asking for his cock, looking up at him with pleading eyes. As if having him on your throat gratified you. "I need you."
He almost caved in. Almost.
"Stop that or I'll cuff you again." He grumbles, only making you smile.
"Do it. I don't need hands, I can always take you in my mou-" Javier flips your body abruptly, pressing your face against the seat, and you can hear the familiar sound of metal clipping in.
"Such a greedy slut." He fixes your dress, not without subtly smacking your ass beforehand.
"Mm, can I at least get my panties back?" You ask in defeat, turning to face him, but he was already shutting the door.
"No." He quickly starts the car as you settle on the back, catching a glimpse of your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks were flushed and lips plump from biting them, eyes still sparkling from the high post-orgasm.
"Do you like me like this?" You wonder as he begins driving. "All fucked out, cuffed and ready for you to take?"
Peña doesn't answer immediately, not daring to look back at you but desperately wanting to do it.
"I do." He answers, eyes on the road. "I like you naked. And dressed too, specially with those pretty skirts. I like it when you tell me how your day was, or when you're reading quietly." His words make your heart flutter, blushing harder. "I like listening to your voice, and the way your gaze always seems interested whenever I talk about me. Shit, I even like you when you're ignoring me." You can almost hear his smile, if that made any sense. "I like you all the damn time, hermosa."
Honestly, you weren't expecting such a straightforward answer, finding yourself at loss of words. Nonetheless, you didn't need to say anything, cause sooner than expected you were being taken out of the truck, flashes of the building he resided in passed right in front of your eyes while he dragged you through the dark, silent halls.
"Javi..." despite having limited mobility, you lean towards him, whispering in his ear. "Please kiss me."
He laughs dryly at your plea and struggles to open the door. "You want that, huh? ¿Quieres que te bese?" Then he takes your arm to drag you in, closing the door behind him.
"Yes, mi amor. I missed you so fucking much." You stay close to him, your face nuzzled on the crook of his neck. His hand brushes the hair out of your face and he presses his lips to your temple.
"Hm, is that right?" He hums and you can feel it against your nose. "Didn't seem so."
You back off swiftly, keeping your eyes locked with his. "I'm sorry, Javier. I really am."
Something shifts in his gaze, a possessive, deep emotion takes over him and he decides to take you up on your previous proposition.
"Prove it." He commands, voice hoarse. "Show me how much you missed me." The idea of getting what you wanted pursed your lips in a mischievous smirk. "I'll kiss you afterwards if I'm convinced."
Instead of responding, you start peppering kisses all over his jaw and neck, going as far along his chest as the buttons of his shirt would allow you. He lazily unbuckles his belt and pants while you lower yourself to your knees in front of him, but doesn't bother to go any further. It was going to be difficult, though nothing you haven't done before, nearly forgetting the cuffs as you craved his taste.
You rub the side of your face on his stiff erection, feeling how hard and hot he was under the tight fabric of his jeans and a low groan scratches his throat. You mouth at it before taking the zip between your teeth and sliding it down, eyes peering up at him at the same time. Javier observes every move attentively, his cock twitching at the sight of your lust-drunken gaze, breath starting to become unsteady when you kiss and lick the head of his dick over the thin fabric of his boxers. You taste the precum throughout it, salty and good, before pulling down his underwear by lightly biting the elastic.
Your mouth waters at the view, jaw going slack even before taking him in your mouth. His girth slaps against his clothed belly, tip red and leaking, just as big as you remember. Shit, you really had missed him. Javier's hand tangles in your hair, running his fingers in between the locks lovingly. He gasps when you press your lips to the slit, kitten licking the top and starting to spread wet kisses all over his length, running your tongue along the shaft, his musky scent getting to your head quite fast. He loved how every time you were on your knees for him it felt like you adored him, as much as Javier did you.
And it was true. Knowing how good you made him feel satisfied your senses, every expression and single noise he'd make could turn you on and push you to edge so easily. The man was simply delightful.
“Fuck, sweetheart…” he sighs, caressing your cheekbone with his thumb when you finally suck him in. “That’s it, wrap those gorgeous lips around my cock. So pretty…”
He lets out a gruffly moan as you take him further, watching as he screws his eyes shut and throws his head back, the sound so divine that it immediately makes your pussy clench around nothing. Javier is thick. And it’s always so hard to get him all in your mouth, but this time you make a double effort. You run your tongue against the veins on the underside of his dick, enjoying the weight of it in you, the taste and the admirable sight of him coming undone while he tries his best not to start fucking your face without warning, laying his palms flat on the wall behind you.
“Shit- that’s…” he grumbles, head spinning from pleasure, unable to make up any thought or manifest anything into words. You start bobbing your head up and down his length, hollowing your cheeks to provide more warmth.
You’re dripping, feeling the slick run down your thighs and the ache becoming unbearable. You squeeze your legs together in order to release some of that need, letting out a whine that vibrates through him and makes his hips jolt into your mouth.
“Fucking hell…” Javier’s hand snakes to the back of your neck, massaging the soft skin. “Does it turn you on to get me off like this, hermosa?”
You hum in response and the feeling sends him to oblivion, letting out a coarse moan that shocks another wave of hotness between your legs.
“What a nasty girl you are.” He mumbles breathily, “My girl.” He’s practically shaking at this point, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat and your nose pressed against his pubic bone.
Air wasn’t a necessity at the moment, your ears ringing and the corners of your eyes watering. He warned you he was close but you didn’t back out, letting him hold you for support. He gasps out a raspy ‘fuck’ when he releases, hips stuttering and back arching slightly as his cum hits your tongue. You pull apart just enough to lap at the tip while he rides it out, feeling him throb in your mouth while you savor him until he’s completely spent, soft moans barely audible.
You wait until he opens his eyes again, brown gaze meeting yours between shaky breaths. “Will you uncuff me now, agent?”
He huffs a laugh, tugging himself back in his jeans before helping you get up and taking the metal cuffs off. For a second, none of you say a thing, simply staring back at each other with a swirl of emotions between you. But then he says your name, merely a whisper that makes you crumble.
“Don’t do that, Peña.” You scold, turning your back to him and walking towards the couch, taking a seat and listening to the leather crack under your weight.
“What do you mean?” He turns to you, hands on his hips, pants unbuttoned and hair messy.
“When you say my name like you need me and give me those puppy-dog eyes, I actually believe that you want me for anything other than sex.” He seems disappointed, mostly on himself. “So can we just fuck and get this over with?”
“Is that what you think I…?” Javier shakes his head and follows your direction, but only observes from above. “It’s not like that.”
You take off the heels, your feet starting to hurt. “Then how is it?”
His hand goes to your chin, urging you to look up at him. “I’m not good with this… I screwed up back in Texas and I did it again with you.” You gulp, your hands tightly gripping your knees. “I don’t know how to handle this sort of things, and it’s been a while since I felt like this for anyone…”
He takes the jacket off and sits on the edge of his coffee table in front of the sofa, cupping your face in his hands.
“All I know is that every time we’re together, nothing else matters. Things feel right. But when you’re not with me… Shit. Life becomes insufrible. I can’t sleep, can’t think, fuck, I can’t even have sex!” He looks genuinely irritated. “Everything’s about you when you’re away. And I can’t tolerate to see you with anyone else. It’s like someone just took a shot at me.”
You inhale sharply, taking his hand in yours without breaking eye contact. “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve came back to you.”
“Precisely. I tried not to be selfish and let you go, but I can’t. It hurts too much.” He pouts, as if the mere thought made him sick. “And you deserve better.”
Inevitably, you roll your eyes. “Don’t bullshit me, Peña.” He furrows his brows at your reply, his palm falling from your cheek to his lap. “That’s crap! You think you know what’s best for me?”
“Well shit, I’m sorry for trying to look out for you.” Javier snarls back.
“I don’t need you to do that, you idiot.” You grab his jaw, taking him by surprise. “I know what I want and I was straightforward about it,” His heart starts thumping against his ribs. “So, if you want me, take me. Cause if you don’t… Someone else might.”
Your statement stirs his pot and his expression shifts. “Fuck no. You’re mine and I’m yours. That’s how this is going to work.”
“Yeah?” He lets out a throaty growl and leans down towards you.
“Yeah.” His mustache tickles your upper lip when he crashes his lips to yours and you whine into his mouth.
It was desperate and demanding, ripping all the emotions from you. Javier tasted like cigarettes, a hint of mint and of you. And you tasted like tequila, honey and of him. His cologne was a little faded, but you could still smell it.
“Say you’re mine, corazón.” He mumbles when he pulls back for air, forehead pressed to yours. “I don’t care if you’re lying, I need to hear it.”
You take him by the collar of his shirt so that he’s sitting down next to you, snaking your hand to press the palm against his bare chest.
“Soy tuya, Javi.” You tell him, laying a small kiss to his lips. “I mean it.”
He smiles cheekily as he pulls you on top of him, spreading your knees to each side of his thighs, your dress slipping upwards. Javier tugs a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers roam your face as if he wanted to memorize every edge of it by tact alone. His thumb sweeps over your bottom lip carefully, parting your lips briefly before going to kiss you again. This time he does it slowly, taking his time with your lips prior to sliding his tongue past your teeth and relishing on your taste, almost like he wanted to lose himself in you.
To him, the world meant nothing if you weren’t by his side. And now that you were here, he intended to make the most of it.
His hands are everywhere: your waist, hips, lower back and butt, grabbing every bit of your flesh that he could, keeping you close. So close that it almost seemed like he wished to merge into you. You made out for what it appeared to be hours, until the kisses got sloppier but never less passionate, and you started grinding against him. You hold his shoulders for support, creating that delicious friction between your naked cunt and his stiff boner tucked in his pants. He jolts his hips up, making you release a whimper in his mouth.
He backed off, his lips now scrape your jawline, neck and collarbones. You arch your back when his hand slithers to pull down the zipper of your dress, granting him a better view of your tits close to his face.
“My room?” He asks, biting your earlobe mildly.
“Thought you’d never ask.”
Javi carries you to the bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist, still finding a way to keep his lips on you in the meantime. Clothes disappear in the blink of an eye and you sit at the end of the sheets to help him take off his pants, kissing his abdomen, your dress now discarded somewhere on the floor.
“Eres preciosa.” The way he says it makes you blush, skin burning under his chocolate gaze. “I’m all yours, mi amor.”
You bring his face close to yours, infatuated with his beauty. “All mine…”
“Yes, corazón.”
You lay down on the mattress, Javier starting to play with your hard nipples, nibbling at them, sucking and kissing with his attention focused on all your reactions. You’re so aroused that you’re quite literally dripping into his sheets, legs trembling from every light stimulation and skin scorching from desire, already spurred on by the make out and giving him head.
“Please, Javi… I- need you inside.”
He wastes no time to compel, maneuvering a hand to your lower back and aligning himself to your entrance, keeping your legs spread. You feel him inside, splitting you open with no previous warning and the tight grip of your cunt feels like homecoming to him. You hold your breath until he bottoms out, enjoying the sweet stretch he provided. Then your whole body quivers, a sheen layer of sweat covering both his golden skin and yours, a couple of curly locks sticking to his temples from it.
You watch him from below through hooded eyes, every inch of him inside you making you feel so full and complete, the outline of his fingers dig in your waist to keep you angled. You bear down on his cock, enveloping him in the warm, welcoming grasp of your body. He holds your hand above your head and leans down to kiss you again, drowning his own moans in your mouth as he draws out slowly to set a pace with his hips, the wet sounds of you pussy and skin clapping against skin sending a thrill of excitement down his spine.
You get it then, as he pours out all sentiment into you, overcome by passion. He is yours. Even though he just said it, only now does it become evident to you. This is Javier’s way of proving it.
He grabs one of your thighs and lifts your knee to the crook of his elbow, the new angle spreading you further open and allowing him to hit deeper. The impact of his tip hitting every right spot relentlessly forces you to break apart from his lips, your head thrown back into his pillows while practically screaming for more, his face nuzzled in your chest as he melts into you.
“Shit baby, I won’t last.” He warns, sinking his teeth to leave a mark between your breasts. You can feel it too, hot shots of ecstasy creeping up the pit of your stomach every time his cock jumps inside you.
You tug at his hair, a strangled moan escaping his lips. “Do it in me- Please, fill me up.”
Your request sends him right to the edge, his thrusts becoming careless as he starts grinding into you, Javi’s fingers quickly finding your swollen clit. The sole touch made you writhe and reach your high in absolute bliss, clenching your walls around him and crying out from raw pleasure. He fucks you through it, overwhelmed by the sensation. You feel dizzy, barely conscious when he finds his own release, your name spilling from his lips like it was the only word he knew, coming in warm spurts inside you. His spend is dripping from your pussy and thighs when he pulls out and sits up to admire the absolute mess he just made of you.
“Well…” he says, guiding his finger to push his seed back into you, making you whine from the overstimulation. “Hope that made it clear.”
You smile, every muscle in your body weeping from exhaustion. “Yeah… I’ll have to make you jealous more often.”
He groans in annoyance and you pull him back on top of you, spreading tender kisses all over his face, laughing in the meantime.
“Not funny.” He grumbles, despite the grin forming on his lips. Javier rolls to your side, coming to lay down next to you and immediately holding you against his sturdy chest, wrapping his arms around your waist to spoon you. “Stay with me.”
His plead is barely a murmur that filters through your ears and you’re too tired to figure out what those words actually mean. You simply let your eyelids drop and retort with a hardly audible ‘always’.
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ellemj · 5 months
Text
Needs & Wants - Sex Pollen Trope Pt. 10 (FINAL PART)
Bucky Barnes x Reader
*Read parts 1-9 first for the full effect!*
Summary: Everything is out in the open between you and Bucky now, but there are two rules for your new secret relationship.
Warnings: unprotected sex, teasing, possessive!Bucky (hehehe), maybe fluff (?), profanity, use of y/n, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!
Feel free to comment and let me know if this requires any other warnings.
Word Count: 2.2k
Author's Note: We've finally reached the end. I think I'll miss this version of Bucky and reader but I'm pretty excited about the work that I'm planning on putting out here next. Hopefully everyone's okay with the conclusion of this, I didn't want to have anyone riding off into the sunset or anything, but I also didn't want to have a horribly sad ending, so this felt right. You guys should totally let me know in the comments what kind of things you'd like to see from me soon! I don't know if I'll take specific requests anytime soon, but I'd love to at least find out what might get you all excited. Thanks for the umpteenth time to @littlemiss-yeehaw for being the best cheerleader and warnings-writer out there. She also draws some unbelievable shots of Bucky based on scenes in these fics.
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In the shower, on the hotel bed, in the chair by the window, hell, even on the floor when the two of you rolled off of the bed in the heat of the moment. You’d successfully christened every surface of your hotel room before the clock ever struck midnight. You hadn’t meant to go at it like horny teenagers who found themselves home alone for the first time, but that’s what happened. It’s like you were both thinking about how this may not continue once you get back to the compound tomorrow morning, so you fit as much as you could all in one night.
            Now, you’re laying side by side in bed. Your most recent tryst involved you on your hands and knees with Bucky doing all of the right things behind you, and it thoroughly winded you both. You listen as your collective breaths fill the air, the two of you each coming down from your post-orgasmic highs.
            “Do you think Dr. Raynor will figure this out?” You ask softly, raising a hand and wiping a bit of sweat from your brow. Bucky laughs and turns his head to look at you. He still can’t get past how pretty you look after doing such dirty, animalistic things with him. Even without the super soldier serum decreasing his refractory period to mere minutes, he thinks he’d be recovered and ready for round five just from looking at you like this.
            “That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”
            “It’s on my mind, yeah.” You admit. You’re probably more worried about it than you should be, but deep down, Bucky’s worried too.
            “So, how do you want to handle it?” Bucky asks, fully rolling onto his side to face you.
            “Maybe we just wait and see what she has to say after observing tonight’s mission and then go from there. I don’t want to say anything first and give her anything to use against us.” He’s listening to your words, honestly, he is. He doesn’t think he could ever miss a word you say. But he can’t stop himself from reaching over and running his fingertips along your flushed cheek. You turn to look at him and he lets his fingers ghost over your lips and down the column of your throat until he reaches the notch between your collarbones. His eyes linger there for a moment. Something’s missing.
            “You never gave me my dog tags back.” He whispers. You’re not wearing them, and neither is he. So, where are they?
            “Yeah, I wasn’t sure when to give them back.”
            “Bullshit, you wanted to keep them.” Bucky teases. You push his hand away from your neck at the accusation, but can’t stop the smile that’s creeping over your features. Fuck, he’s so into you. He closes the distance between the two of you and places his body carefully over yours under the covers, leaning down and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. Even just kissing you sets off fireworks inside of him.
            “They’re sitting on my nightstand, back in the compound.” You tell him, hoping it doesn’t make you sound too obsessed. You had planned to give them back all week, but avoiding him made that a little difficult, so instead you left them sitting beside your bed. It was sort of comforting to see his name every night before you fell asleep, and every morning when you woke up.
            “Keep them.” He insists, pressing another kiss to your soft, soft lips. You get lost in the moment, focusing on the feeling of his tongue working against yours, his scent enveloping you in the most consuming way, and his weight keeping you pinned to the mattress. You could stay like this forever.
            This, of course, is when Bucky’s phone would ring. He groans in annoyance as he breaks the kiss and touches his forehead to yours, looking down into your eyes.
            “Tell me not to answer it.” He pleads. You purse your lips, knowing it’s probably someone from the team calling with some kind of update or new order. Bucky groans again before rolling off of you and snatching his phone off of the bedside table. He answers it and puts it on speaker, confirming that it’s someone from the team.
            “Hey, sorry to call so late. The threat has been neutralized so you guys can head back now and get some sleep, we’ll debrief in the morning.” Sam sounds tired but calm, so it must have been more of a nuisance situation than a major threat. Bucky closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose with his vibranium hand.
            “Sounds good, we’ll be back soon.” He grumbles. You can tell he’s annoyed that you won’t be staying the night here. When he hangs up the call, he lets out a deep sigh before sitting up on the side of the bed, with the covers gathering around his waist. Without thinking, you crawl up behind him and wrap your arms around his torso, hugging him from behind. He stiffens as if he didn’t expect your touch, but that just makes you lean into him more, resting your chin on his shoulder. You feel him slowly relax and having that effect on him warms you to the center of your being
            “We’re going to go home, get some rest, and debrief in the morning like this was any other mission.” You say, attempting to be reassuring.
            “That’s what you want? To pretend like this was any other mission?” He questions, running his hands over where your arms are wrapped around his abs.
            “I didn’t mean it like that, I just meant we don’t have to run in and tell everyone that something might be going on between us.”
            “Might?” He chuckles. You feel his abs shake beneath your hands as the melodious sound leaves his lips. You never heard him laugh much before, and you didn’t expect to like it as much as you do.
            “Hey, I told you that I fell for you, and you said fuck, I’m cumming. How am I supposed to know you feel the same way?” You tease, letting go of him and laying back on the bed, drawing the covers up over your naked body. He turns a bit to face you and starts pulling the covers away from you slowly.
            “Y/n…” He says your name with so much genuine feeling that it sends tingles throughout your body. Has he always said your name like that and you just never noticed before? Yes. “I made you wear my dog tags while I fucked you.” What the hell does that have to do with what you just said? He can see the confusion on your face and it brings a smile to his. He slides back under the covers next to you and begins peppering kisses across your shoulder and collarbone.
            “Bucky…” Fuck, if you start saying his name again there’s no way either of you will make it back to the compound tonight. He quickly makes his way up to your face, attaching his lips to yours for a moment and then tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away. It’s the nicest way anyone has ever shut you up.
            “I wanted to be able to pretend like you were mine. I fell way before you did.” He whispers against your lips. Holy shit. He feels the same way. Bucky Barnes feels the same way about you as you feel about him.
            You know that you have orders to head back to the compound, and neither of you are the type to disobey orders from above, but how are you supposed to pack up and head out after finding out that you have feelings for each other? You can’t stand the thought of traveling back to the compound tonight knowing that you’ll have to put on a show and pretend like nothing happened here. So, why not delay a bit and take what you want one more time?
            That very rational thinking is what inspires you to slide your hand between the two of you and wrap your fist around Bucky’s already-hardening cock. He sucks in a breath at the feeling of your small, soft hand wrapping tightly around him, and he wonders how he went so long without having you this way. You’ve been right across the hall from him all of this time. You’ve been going on missions with him for the last two months, giving each other shit nearly every waking moment, and completely missing what had been there the whole time. Love. He won’t say it out loud yet, he doesn’t want to scare you off, but that’s what it is. He’s sure of it. He loves you. He may not say it but he can damn well express it.
            That’s how Bucky finds himself, for the fifth time tonight, guiding the tip of his cock inside of your perfect cunt. He’s done this enough times now that he knows as soon as he bottoms out inside of you, you’ll tense up and scrunch your eyes closed, trying your hardest to adjust to his size. He watches as you do just that, and then he feels your entire body relax beneath him and he knows you’re ready. He pulls one of your legs up and over his hip as he begins fucking you into the mattress. When your eyes flutter open to meet his, he has to go completely still inside you so he won’t cum right then and there. You laugh to yourself. You know what eye contact does to him and you love it.
            “What’s the matter, James? Keep going.” You taunt, wiggling your hips and forcing his cock to slide into you another inch. He’s only halfway inside of you. He breathes out a slow, calming breath before leaning down and nuzzling his face into your neck, letting his cock sink into you slower than it ever has before.
            “You like rushing me, don’t you?” He asks, giving your cunt gentle thrusts. A soft hum leaves your lips at the pleasure that’s beginning to build in your lower stomach. You’re so focused on the feeling that you don’t even acknowledge his question. “Don’t rush me tonight.” He buries himself to the hilt before stilling once more, drawing a whine from your lips. “We’re making love, not fucking, sweetheart.”
---
            A few hours later that same morning, a very uneventful debrief took place in the conference room at the compound. You and Bucky turned in your mission reports, leaving out the details of what happened in the hotel room, and then you were dismissed to have a few hours of freedom before having to meet with Dr. Raynor.
            Everyone probably assumed that the two of you went off to your respective rooms upstairs, but it took little convincing to get Bucky to sneak over into yours. When he stepped inside and shut the door behind him, the first thing he noticed was his dog tags, right where you said they were.
You kick your shoes off by the door and walk over to sit on one of the small gray chairs that you have off to the side of the room, feeling surprisingly nervous that Bucky Barnes is seeing your room for the first time. Nervous. After everything the two of you have done this week? You’re ridiculous. You watch him as he crosses the room and scoops the dog tags off of your nightstand. He stares at them in his palm for a moment, and for a second you worry that he might pocket them. However, when he turns to you with a soft smile and a mischievous glint in his eye, your fears are assuaged.
“Do you have any rules? For this thing that we’ve got going on?” Bucky asks, taking the free chair across from you and setting the dog tags flat on the coffee table that separates the two of you. You tilt your head to the side, studying him closely. You see what he’s doing. The first night, while under the influence of that chemical, you gave him one rule: no kissing. He returned with his own rule: wear his dog tags while he fucks you.
“I have one. We keep this a secret, just between us, for as long as we can.” You respond, letting your eyes trail over his physique. He’s sitting in your chair the same way he sat in the chair in the hotel room last night. The man knows how to demand attention without saying a damn word. You watch as his licks his bottom lip and then leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together in front of him.
“Fine. It’s a secret.” He agrees, his gaze briefly lingering on your neck. “But I have one rule too.” He reaches out with his flesh hand and begins sliding the dog tags across the table toward you. “You’ll never take these off again.”
BONUS CHAPTER
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iconicstoner · 9 months
Text
love bites & apologies
gn!reader x jasper hale
words: 1960
summary: when Jasper accidentally leaves marks on y/n’s neck after kissing them, he has to figure out how to make it up to them and their parents.
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“Sugar, you are so sweet,” Jasper’s words came out like a husky southern growl, just centimeters away from your face. Slowly, his hands push through your hair as his icy lips move down your neck. He sends a chill down your spine with the feeling of his cold touch, and yet your whole body feels hot with pleasure. Just as Jasper begins to pin you down, his lips still grazing your warm neck, the sound of someone clearing their throat startles both of you. The two of you turn to face the person quickly, and embarrassment adorns your face when you realize who caught you. Jasper releases the firm grip he had on you and raises his eyebrows at the towering lean figure standing in the doorway.
“Y’know, I can hear all your thoughts, and usually that would be helpful, but I don’t want to hear,” Edward pauses to glance between the two of you, “those thoughts.” Your face flushes with embarrassment, and Jasper’s would too, if he was still capable of it.
“I’ll have you know, from the moment you met Bella, I could feel every emotion you felt about her, and that was ten times worse. Do you know how awkward it is to feel lust emitting from the house, just to find out it’s coming from your brother?” A smirk is still etched onto Jasper’s face as he finishes drawing out the words with his charming Southern accent. Edward tenses with embarrassment, and he doesn’t say anything for a long time, considering what Jasper knows. Then, as he begins to look back between the couple sprawled out on Jasper's bed, he begins to laugh.
“Why is he doing that?” you ask in a low mumble. Jasper gives Edward a look of confusion, before turning to you. The second he sees you, his face drops, no longer smirking, and he is in utter shock.
“Oh, Emmett is gonna love this,” Edward says between laughs. Before Edward even finished his sentence Emmett was standing at his side with just the mention of his name. When he looked into the room, he burst into laughter too.
“Nice one, Jasper!” Emmett exclaims as he pats Jasper’s shoulder with intense force, almost knocking Jasper, who is in a trance-like state, over. “It’s like you’re all grown up. Quite the cowboy,” He says, sarcastically. Your confusion is palpable to the brothers, but before you can even ask, Edward is pointing a small handheld mirror at you, giving you a great view of your neck. It’s almost entirely purplish-red from all the places Jasper had been kissing you. You let out a gasp that causes all laughter to cease.
“I’d love to help you,” Edward said with a smile, almost as if he was enjoying this moment, “but since Vampires don’t have blood, we don’t have this problem.” As his brothers spoke, Jasper stood to the side, continuing to look down at you with a slight horror at the mistake he made.
“We could try makeup? I know Rosalie has a ton somewhere around here,” Emmett suggests, at least trying to be helpful.
“Going home with pasty white makeup all over your neck is almost more suspicious than just letting people see the hickeys,” Edward said to Emmett playfully. “And also, curfew is in fifteen minutes, so I’d hurry home,” Edward says to you, knowing this will only be worse if you also break your curfew.
Before you’d even had time to think of a plan, Jasper was already ushering you to the car. He raced down the slick asphalt to your house in the silver Jeep. The car was completely silent the whole drive, but Jasper kept a firm grip on your thigh with his right hand. Emmett and Edward were in the back, and as you pull into the driveway, you can only hope your parents won’t kill you.
“Hold on,” Jasper says, his cool hand touches your jaw, and he leans in to give you a soft, cold, longing kiss, “just in case it’s the last time,” he mumbles into your ear as he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss.
“They can’t ground me for as long as you're alive,” you remark playfully.
“Yes, but they can ground you for as long as you’re alive,” he says, with a sweet syrupy quality to his voice. His hand slowly and delicately traces down your jaw until it's back in his atmosphere again. You crave to grab his hand or to press his skin against yours for just one last second, but you know you can’t look like this and be late. You climb out of the Jeep, step inside your house, and close the door behind you, but Jasper doesn’t take the Jeep out of park.
“What are we doing, Jasper?” Emmett questions uneasily.
“Jasper wants to know what y/n’s parents are going to feel when they see what happened,” Edward explained, already knowing what Jasper was thinking, which was helpful because Jasper would give anything not to speak right now. No one said anything for a moment, but then Jasper tensed, sitting up a little straighter. Edward slumped back, seeming almost uncomfortable by what was happening. Emmett could tell this meant that your parents had noticed, and things didn’t seem good.
“I can feel their emotions. It’s so strong that I can hardly distort them, at least not from this far.” Jasper paused after the words left his mouth, but he didn’t move. “What are they thinking, Edward?”
“I don’t want to say,” Edward said monotonously. Emmett stiffened, and for someone so hard to miss, he seemed to wash away with the tension of the moment.
“Tell me,” Jasper demanded. The brothers sat very still for a very long time before anyone spoke again. The sound of chirping crickets filled their ears, and the stars shined down on them. However, they didn't notice any of their surroundings, as they focused their attention on what was happening in your house.
“They think you’re a freak,” he paused, for what felt like centuries, before saying, “They want you two to break up.” Before Edward can continue, Jasper put the car in reverse and sped home so fast that even Edward wanted to suggest slowing down.
“What am I going to do?” Jasper asked as he opened the front door to the Cullen's house. Emmett and Edward shuffled in behind him without a word.
“You’re going to have to make it up to y/n’s parents,” Emmet advised.
“You’re going to have to make it up to y/n too,” as soon as the words escaped Edward's mouth Emmett and Jasper were staring at him, waiting for an explanation. “When I was listening to their thoughts, y/n was mad that you weren’t more careful.”
“I’ll figure something out,” Jasper said, his voice full of exasperation.
A week passes, and somehow Jasper finds himself standing next to Carlisle at your doorstep.
“Jasper, I’m surprised you asked me to do this for you,” Carlisle says quietly as he taps his stone-cold hand against your front door. “This relationship must mean a lot to you.” The door opens before their conversation continues, and they’re greeted with your father's presence. Days had passed since Jasper had gotten to see you. After what happened last week, Jasper called your house, but when your father answered, he told Jasper to never call back again. Jasper had hoped he’d be able to talk with you at school, but you anxiously avoided him, and he wasn’t looking to upset you anymore. It was the slowest week of his 160-year-old life.
“It’s great to see you. I’m Dr. Cullen, Jasper’s father. I was wondering if we could have a word?” Your father is hesitant at the question, but allows the two of them to come inside. The three of them sit at the dining table that your mother is already occupying. As they sit, Jasper nervously fumbles with his hands, worried that his plan to involve Carlisle as his ‘father’ wouldn’t work the way he hoped.
“Jasper,” you say as you walk into the kitchen, surprised to see them, “and Carlisle, what’s going on?” You make your way to the table and sit down on the far end, with Jasper on one side of you, and your father on the other. Jasper could feel the nervousness emitting from you, and it almost matched his own. He wanted to grab on to you and never let go as he took in your intoxicating scent and warm skin, but instead, he settled for inconspicuously placing a hand on your knee and hoping your family didn’t notice.
“I wanted to discuss with you all what happened last week,” Carlisle said, looking more serious than you’d ever seen him. When he said the words, almost everyone in the room had their eyes on your (no longer purple) neck. Except for Jasper, who was looking deep into your eyes as if they could heal him or ease his pain. “What Jasper did was irresponsible, and I do not condone that kind of behavior. We have both raised two very responsible, mature, and sensible kids. As disapproving as I am, what they did was not dangerous. Our children had the self-control to stop themselves before things got too out of hand. I know these kids make each other happy, and I believe we should continue to let them see each other.” Carlisle hardly gave anyone time to speak as he felt the disapproval radiate off your parents. “And if it would make you more comfortable, they don’t have to be together at my house anymore. At least not alone.” There was a long pause after Carlisle finished speaking, as if what he said compelled everyone to silence. Jasper gently squeezed your knee and glanced at you hopefully.
“I’ll agree that they continue to see each other, on the condition that they can only be alone together in public, or at our house, with the doors open, while we are home.” It might sound like a big ask, but Jasper knew how secretive and creative Edward was with Bella, and for someone so special to him, he was willing to try and be just as sneaky for you. The idea of sneaking into your bedroom late at night filled him with excitement, and he quickly thought of all the ways he could climb into your bed without your family noticing.
“I think we can agree to that,” Carlisle said with a wide smile and stood up to shake your father’s hand. Jasper smiled eagerly as he stood up, beckoning you to stand too, and wrapped you into a hug. Even if his skin was glacial, he still warmed your heart. You attempted to suppress your excited laugh as Jasper kissed your cheek.
“Hey,” your father called out disapprovingly, causing Jasper to loosen his grip around you.
“What?” you mused, “the doors are open?” Jasper tried to hide his smile in your hair as your parents let out a collective sigh.
“Don’t push it you two,” Carlisle said just loud enough for only you two to hear. He threw the two of you a knowing wink as he made his way back to the front door. Jasper smiled in a way you’d never seen before and slightly adjusted so his back was facing your parents. Gently, he leaned down to kiss you one more time. This time, he let his cold lips meet yours, and even if it was just for a second, you could feel every ounce of his love.
“See you soon, darlin’,” he said with a hushed sultry southern accent. Next time you two were together, he planned on continuing what you never got to finish.
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spdrwdw · 6 months
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Pairing: 1042 Miguel X f!reader Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI) fluff, smut, food play (Is that a term?), Miguel has a weird kink ( it is still kinktober, after all), oral-m/f receiving, slight breeding kink, unprotected intercourse, no use of y/n Summary: Miguel seems to have a sweet tooth. Not only for the birthday cake you are making for Gabriella's birthday, but also for you. Word Count: 2018 A/N: Thank you to @phoenixflower468 who requested some earth 1042 Miguel content! I will continue working on my other requests. Thank you to those who submitted requests to help my writer's block! ALSO; if you'd like to be tagged for my future fics, please let me know! No translations at the end. I figured most of Miguel fic readers already know some of the Spanish pet names and phrases used by now, lmao Check out more of my work on my Masterlist
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Tomorrow was Gabriella’s birthday and you were scrambling getting the cake finished. It was already eleven at night and you were covered in flour and frosting. Or was it icing? You could never tell them apart. Anyway, you were decorating the cake when you heard footsteps coming down from the stairs. 
You quickly paused what you were doing, trying to hear the footsteps. They were too heavy to be Gabriella’s. Miguel was coming downstairs to check on your progress. 
“Miguel. Mi amor, I thought you were sleeping already,” You spoke softly as he made his way into the kitchen, taking a seat on the stool across from you. 
“I miss you,” he pouted. God. He was too adorable. He was six foot nine of pure muscle and dad bod and yet he was the most adorable thing in the world. Besides Gabriella, of course. 
“Lo siento, Miguel. I’m just trying to get this cake finished,” You apologized as you went back to work. Thankfully, those baking lessons you took back in college were finally paying off. The cake didn’t look half bad at all. 
“Why are you making a cake rather than just buying one?” He asked as he took a bit of leftover frosting..or was it icing..and licked it from his finger. You couldn’t help but to bite your lip at the sight. The simplest things this man did made you go feral. It just wasn’t fair.  
He noticed your expression and smirked. Oh, he was such a bastard! 
“What?” You asked, narrowing your eyes at him. 
He simply contained the smirk on his face and grabbed more of the frosting onto his finger and opened his mouth, tongue sticking out slightly before slipping his finger in, letting out a moan. 
You crossed your arms over your chest, trying to keep your composure. 
“I still need that, you know?”
Miguel chuckled and shrugged. “You know how I get around sweets, querida. I have such a sweet tooth.”
You simply gave him a look before grabbing your things and went back to decorating the cake. 
“Yes well, that sweet tooth of yours is going to have to hold off until tomorrow, Miguel. I can’t have you messing this up,” you grumbled, trying to concentrate on your work. You were almost done. 
As you tried to concentrate on drawing up some flowers, you could feel Miguel’s strong arms wrapping around your waist, his chin resting against your shoulder as he watched you work. 
“You’re doing amazing,” he complimented, placing a kiss on your cheek. You knew what he was trying to do. He was trying to get you distracted. 
“Thank you, mi amor,” you hummed, trying to not let him get to you. At least, not until you were finished with Gabri’s cake. 
Surprisingly, he was actually behaving, watching you in admiration as you finished up the cake for your daughter. 
“Looks perfect,” he hummed as you nodded your head in approval, marveling at your work.
“It does, doesn’t it?” You smiled, glancing over at him before pecking his cheek. 
“Mind putting it in the fridge while I clean up?”
Miguel nodded his head and did as he was told before an idea popped into his head and he glanced over at you. 
“Take the frosting upstairs with you,” he said, causing you to raise a brow. 
“What? Why?” You asked as you continued to clean the kitchen island.
“I want to try something,” he stated. 
“Try what?” You pressed, curious as to why Miguel wanted to take the leftover frosting upstairs.
“Just..I’ll show you when we get up there. Come on, mi vida. It’s getting late.”
—-
“What on earth? Miguel!” You gasped as you now laid completely naked in bed, with your hands tied above your head. It was to prevent you from stopping Miguel and his shenanigans. 
Miguel shushed you as he squirted some frosting out of the piping bag and onto the bottom of your navel, leading a trail all the way down to your pubic bone. 
“I told you I had a sweet tooth, mi vida,” he chuckled before he began licking the frosting off of you. 
Your body twitched a bit and you tried to fight back a moan. You had to keep quiet. You didn’t want Gabriella to wake up. 
“And you thought this would be a good way to ease your sweet tooth?” You questioned as Miguel began to coat your breasts with the frosting before taking a breast into his mouth, licking and sucking off the sweetness, swirling his tongue around your nipple and tugging at it before doing the same with the other breast. You couldn’t conceal your moans any longer. 
“M-Miguel..please..” you breathed. 
“Hmm? Please what?” Miguel asked, a smirk on his lips.
“You’re making me all sticky,” you pouted. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll wash it off of you later,” he continued to smirk before taking hold of your chin and ordered you to open your mouth. You did as he said, and he squeezed some frosting into your mouth, keeping it along your tongue before he kissed you, slipping his tongue into your mouth to catch the sweetness. 
“Mmm, tastes so much better coming from the pretty mouth of yours,” he moaned, licking his lips.
“Alright well, don’t be greedy. Let me in on some of that, too,” you stated. 
Miguel chuckled and freed your hands before he began to take off his own clothes. Geez, how did you get so lucky to have a man like him as your husband and father of your child? 
Miguel then laid down on the bed as you straddled his waist and saw him open his mouth, tongue hanging out as he waited for you to squirt some frosting onto his tongue. You did just that, shaking your head before leaning down and kissed him hard, all teeth and tongue as you tasted the sweetness in his mouth. 
In no time at all, you were both sticky and smelling sweet. The piping bag was now discarded somewhere on the bed, and you were now sitting on his face. Honestly, it was the best seat in the house, if you had anything to say about it. 
Miguel was eating you out as if your pussy was the sweetest thing on earth. Tongue slobbering over your folds, teeth nipping at your clit, and long fingers curled into you, hitting you at just the right spot, making you see stars. You couldn’t help but to grind against his face. Miguel could take it, though. He was sturdy. 
You tried to cover your mouth to muffle your moans, your other hand stroking his meaty cock. You could feel the veins twitching as your wedding band rubbed against them. Leaning over, you finally took him into your mouth, slowly, of course. You could feel his moan vibrating through you as he continued to eat your pussy, causing you to moan out around his cock in response. After taking in as much of Miguel’s cock as you could, you began bobbing your head, the tip hitting the back of your throat every time. 
It wasn’t long until you felt him twitching in your mouth, and you doubled down on your efforts, pumping him with one hand, and gripping his balls with the other as you continued bobbing your head. 
You felt his tongue assaulting your pussy, running through your bundle of nerves while his fingers curled up and rubbed against that spot that made you see stars. 
In no time at all, you were orgasming into each other’s mouths, and you didn’t dare to waste a single drop of him. 
Before you could even blink, Miguel picked you up and flipped you over, pinning you down onto the bed, lining himself between you and rammed his cock into your soaked pussy. 
“Oh! Miguel!” You gasped as he pounded into you. The wet, sticky sounds of skin hitting against skin bounced off the walls, filled with the harmony of yours’ and Miguel’s moans. 
“You feel so good, mi amor. So fucking good,” Miguel groaned through gritted teeth. 
“Kinda makes me wanna put another baby in you. Think that’d be okay?” He grunted. The thought of filling you up and getting you pregnant with another baby made his cock twitch inside of you. 
Eh, the conversation of having another child did come up every now and then, and..yeah, why not? Gabriella deserved a sibling. 
“M-Miguel..” You breathed, your mind going fuzzy as you tilted your head back against the pillows. 
“Qué pasa, amor?” He cooed once he leaned over and pecked you on the cheek, his pace still brutal. You were so close to your orgasm, you gritted your teeth.
“Can’t handle my cock? Hmm? Is my pretty wife gonna cum?” He continued to coo, pivoting his hips against you in a more snapping manner. 
“Cum over my cock, mi amor.”
And you did. Because when he commands you to do something such as this, you do it, gladly. 
“That’a girl,” Miguel groaned, his thrusts getting sloppy as he reached his limit and came, coating your walls with his seed, filling you up just how you loved it. 
Once he was finished, Miguel slowly pulled out of you and laid on top of you, however, didn’t put all his weight on you cuz, the man is huge.
Miguel rested his head over your shoulder as you both caught your breath. Your arms wrapped around him, pulling him closer before kissing his cheek. You just loved him so much. He was a great husband, and a wonderful father. The best person you could ever imagine having as your life partner. 
“You alright?” He then asked, a cheeky smile on his face as he gently rubbed your back. 
“I’m fine, Miguel,” You giggled softly before kissing him sweetly just as you heard something coming from the hallway. Your eyes suddenly went wide. 
Gabriella.
The bedroom door opened as you both scrambled to get your naked bodies under the covers. 
Gabriella slowly stepped in, rubbing her sleepy little eyes as she held her stuffed bunny in one hand. 
“Mamá? Papá?” She muttered. 
“¿Qué pasa, mija?” Miguel asked softly as Gabriella stepped further inside. 
“I can’t sleep,” she said, looking up at the both of you. 
“Oh, Gabri. Do you want to sleep here with us?” You asked her, and she quickly nodded her head. 
“Okay, go grab your blankie and your pillow.”
She then smiled and nodded her head before walking out of the room, and you and Miguel both bolted to the dresser and closet to grab some clothes and a quick change of sheets. 
As you fixed up the bed, Miguel as in the bathroom getting himself cleaned up, and then you stepped into the bathroom to do the same just as Gabriella came back in, holding her bunny, blankie and pillow. She climbed onto the clean bed just as you both made your way back out of the bathroom. Miguel closed the door and turned off the lights and joined you two, wrapping his arms around Gabriella. 
“Feel better, mija?” You asked with a smile and Gabriella nodded her head, grinning.
“Yeah! I kept hearing these weird sounds and I couldn’t sleep,” she said, causing you and Miguel to look at each other with slight embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, Gabri. Hopefully you won’t hear them again,” you told her, gently stroking her hair as she snuggled up against you. You noticed Miguel pouting over at you, to which you rolled your eyes and smirked at him.
“Let’s get some sleep. It’s your big day tomorrow,” you reminded her, kissing her cheeks as she giggled, nodding her head. 
“Good night, ladies,” Miguel said, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you and Gabriella closer to him, having your daughter sandwiched in the middle; which she loved. 
“Night night, papà,” Gabriella giggled. 
“Goodnight, Miguel,” you smiled over at him and leaned over to give him a goodnight kiss, still being able to taste the frosting on his lips. 
Perhaps you had a bit of a sweet tooth as well. 
☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.:*☆ ☆*:.。. o .。.
Tags: @migueloharastruelove, @camzzn
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poeticmystery · 4 months
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:・゚✧:・゚ RAY OF SUNSHINE (p.j.)
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summary : in which percy jackson feels attached, in some way, to a girl he just met.
w.c. : about 1k
a/n : part 2! thank you for all the support on the firsg part, there will be more to follow!
this is also on my wattpad: poet1cmystery
warning(s) : none!
| riordanverse masterlist | navigation | part 1 |
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*ੈ✩‧₊˚
percy awoke near midnight, having slept for almost seven hours. he had been woken up by a nightmare, just like usual. The stars hanging in the sky painted a serene picture for him as he stared out through the small infirmary window, the view calming him quickly. for once, the camp around him was quiet. no bustling demigods, no chattering kids. just quiet. 
the son of poseidon sat up, looking around more. he was never in here for as long of a time as he had been currently. he never noticed how old the withering wood was, its brown shade falling to a reddish-beige. they were surrounded by magic but still couldn't repair the infirmary. huh. he could definitely see the imprints the apollo children had made, even just in the small room he was in. there was an overall sense of brightness, despite the late hour it was. it felt welcoming, in a way. 
he debated on going back to his cabin now or staying here until morning. the harpies would be out, so that definitely wouldn't be preferable. still, could he really stay for this long? y/n had told him to stay until he felt better...
so, he stayed, in hopes of seeing her again. he was still curious about the connection he felt to her. curious about why her eyes felt so familiar. he tried to rack his brain for answer, yet nothing came to mind. there was a faint image of those eyes on a little girl, their e/c being illuminated by a ray of sunshine. but that was where the memory faded. nothing around the young girl seemed familiar, none of the scenery. he couldn’t even tell if the memory was indoors.
percy noticed the lack of movement, even inside of the infirmary. apollo kids had to sleep too. the only sound he heard was the low chirping of crickets, occasionally seeing one of their tiny bodies hopping by, being illuminated by the fading moonlight.
the lack of light was seamlessly replaced by an orange hue, accompanying the rising sun in the distance. it must’ve been closer to morning than what he had thought. well, that just meant he got to see this mysterious girl sooner.
the stars faded slowly, as if running from the intruding daylight.
y/n walked into the infirmary, smiles and all, the view causing a small grin to even grow to his own face. the optimistic attitude she often boar wasn’t new, but still found a way to draw him in.
“oh!” she looked surprised to see him, was that bad? should he have left when we woke up? the wide smile said otherwise, but he was beginning to think it was permanent, regardless of the situation. his mind raced, and he didn’t know why. it wasn’t like this with anyone else that’d help him. why her?
“i didn’t realize you were still here. are you feeling better at least?” she questioned, concern lacing her features.
“uh, yeah,” he swallowed, trying to get the ugly taste out of his mouth, “ ‘m feeling a lot better. thank you.”
“it’s what i’m here for,” she replied cheerily, spinning on her heel and moving away from the open doorway.
 he gave it a few minutes, then slowly sat up. as the blanket fell from his shoulders, a sudden wave of cool air reminded him of the shirt he wasn’t wearing.  his eyes roamed the enclosed area, searching for the familiar orange fabric of his camp-tee. then, he saw it hanging on a plastic hanger, seemingly clean. he took slightly shaky steps towards it, eventually shrugging it over his shoulders, letting it fall past his arms. 
he walked out of the room he was in, slightly zoned out. unfortunately for him, he bumped into the girl he had been trying to figure out.
“ah, shit, sorry y/n,” he said quickly, gently reaching to grab her arm to steady her.
she didn’t seem bothered. “it’s alright, are you going?”
he nodded, releasing his grip from her arm. “i’ll see you around?” he asked, hoping the answer was yes. maybe then he could figure out where he knew her from.
“of course, percy.”
her words made him smile, even if she just meant them half-heartedly. (she definitely did, he could tell.) he stepped out into the now fully-risen sun, its rays beating down on him despite the chill held by the autumn air.
immediately, he was greeted by his short, fast-talking friend. the one and only, leo valdez.
“where have you been?” the boy exclaimed, his head tilting slightly upwards to meet percy’s eyes.
“dude, it’s been like a day,” percy said flatly.
almost on instinct, percy checked his pockets for his trusted pen. no matter how long he had had it, he still wasn’t used to the fact he couldn’t lose it. just like he suspected, it was safely sitting in the back pocket of his jeans.
percy’s gaze wondered back towards the infirmary one last time, before quickly flicking back to leo, trying to listen to what the boy was discussing as they walked further and further away.
he noticed leo looking at him expectantly, and just nodded his head, seemingly agreeing to what had just been said. “yeah, of course.”
“you weren’t listening, were you?” leo groans.
“not at all,” the boy admitted, not wanting to lie to one of his closest friends.
“tell me again?” he offered, smirking sheepishly down at leo, who rolled his eyes. still, the boy repeated what he had said, this time earning a real response from percy.
the two boys conversed, occasionally shoving each other around as they walked over the dirt pathways winding between the camp cabins. eventually, they heard a horn blow, signaling breakfast.
arriving at the pavilion, percy noticed y/n walking towards a table seating annabeth chase, piper mclean, and luke castellan. wait.
luke castellan?
why was she sitting with luke castellan? 
why did percy care? 
he didn’t. right?
no, of course he didn’t. why would he?
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taglist : @iamforeverandalwaystired, lmk if you wanna be added!
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offthepages · 9 days
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And so, the stars aligned. Pt. 2
Azriel x Archeron!Sister reader
Summary: Azriel knew you can't read. And he knows you would never admit it. So he tricks you into taking reading lessons.
Warnings: Slight mentions of nightmares.
part one part three, Part Four Masterlist Requests are open!!
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You had come into your room to grab something. And had lost every train of thought as you saw the note neatly placed on top of the book you carted around for show- not quite sloppy hand writing but it was clearly male and in a rush. A...stick figure drawing of you? Clearly Feyre had not drawn this. But there is an attention to detail, your hair is colored correctly, and your eyes also the right shade- or as close as you could get in crayon. Truthfully, it could have been anyone female but since it was in your room, it was safe to assume. And then a book- the library? Is that where this mystery would be solved. You were far too curious now to just not go.
And so, you folded the note up and put in into one of your pockets. Heading down there quickly. The only sound as you enter is the clicking of your shoes. Looking around you, and making your way over to Clotho's desk. The priest doesn’t look up at you but quickly writes, 'Ah, y/n to what do we owe the pleasure?'
You smile and pull out the note to show it to her. "It seems- I was summoned." Clotho's amusement oozes off her and she simple writes.
'Go down to level five and you should find what you're looking for.' Squinting suspiciously at her for just a second you debate listening. But that is your inner Nesta speaking, and as much as you loved your oldest sister you didn't want to be completely like her. So, complying with a general order wouldn’t be an issue.
Thanking Clotho quickly you make your way down to the fifth level. And you could have throttled Azriel as he looked over at you with a set of children's books, letter sheets and pencils. He was leisurely sitting there, legs crossed, his ankle resting on his thigh. Arms crossed as he looked at you. And knowing him, while his face remained neutral- he had a feline smirk just like Rhys’s on the inside. Stomping over, crossing your arms and glaring down at the Illyrian man you hiss, "What are you doing?"
"Teaching you how to read." He answers simply, not even slightly phased by your intense gaze. The shadows that normally linger around him aren’t there, instead- as if to mock how little of a threat you are- they pool at his feet like a dog. You'd have to talk to Nesta about getting that icy glare down pat.
"You're still on about that?" You scuff, turning on your heel to leave him with his silly ideas. But before you can get far, a gentle but rough hand grabs your elbow.
"If you can read, then I'll accept I was wrong and even buy you dinner." Azriel compromises. But he knew better, he saw the way your eyes glazed over when they looked at your book and there was no rhyme or reason as to when you flipped the page. Normally people had consistency when they were reading, You had none. Even when Nesta was reading smut there was consistency to it- albeit the page turns got faster but it was still consistent.
You were convinced you could do this. You didn't need him to know this about you. Not even your sisters knew- sure Nesta and Elain probably had inklings to it but you were just six when poverty struck. They were just kids too, it wasn't there job to teach you. Sitting down at the table you looked at the page. It was easy- just trace the letters. You could do that. So you picked up the pencil and started. And once you were done you slid it over to him. "See?"
He nods, taking the sheet and looking it over. Nodding as he examines the work. Then he sets it down and meets your intense eyes, but he doesn't shy away. He takes the first book off the stack. It was a young child's book- it should be a breeze for someone of your age. Prick. You think as he slides it over and folds his hands on the table. Watching the way your eyes widen. Your breathing hitches and there's a slight tremble to your hands as you take the book. He knows that look in your eyes- it's the one Feyre gets when she's calculating a plan. And he couldn't deny that he was slightly excited to see what you'd come up with.
Flipping open the book you know what he's probably looking for is some sortive consistency, so you'd let your eyes look at each word and then flip the page. And so, that's what you did. Finding it hard to keep up your little deception with his eyes focused so intensely on you. But you got to the end of the book and closed it with a triumphant smack. Looking back up at him- before you can open your mouth to speak, Azriel looks at you and asks. "What was it about?"
Shit. Fuck. You didn't look at the pictures! You quickly look down at the book and see a dog and a young boy on the cover. "Its about a dog and his owner." You say as evenly as you can manage for how fast your heart was beating. Azriel raises an eyebrow. Silently waiting for more. "When did you get so expressive?" You ask to quickly change the subject.
"I don't have to be on guard here. There is no one else around. And the priestess won't judge me for showing an emotion." He addresses your question simply, smoothly. Damn him and his stupid sliver tongue. He was the Shadowsinger! Of course he knew how to evade topics and questions to redirect to what he wanted! He taps the book in between the two of you again. And you look at his hands, scars running all along them, and of course you had know that. But it was the first time that you saw them this clearly. And as much as you wanted to get out of this situation- you knew that question was out of the question. "What is this about?" His voice remains gentle, but slightly stern.
Azriel watches you for any signs. He had seen many of them- you were a bad liar. Your emotions written all over your face. Your eyes, they showed everything. How no one else saw it astonished him. And for a second, as he watches how you look down at the book with apprehension and sorrow, that you quickly wash away once your gazes meet again...he sees your resolve break.
"Fine." You say quietly. "I can't read." Your cheeks heat at the confession- it felt so...so...mortifying that you were now twenty, an immortal High Fae and had no idea how to read. "Please don't tell the others." The last thing you wanted was for your sisters to look at you with that pitiful look they always seemed to give you when you mentioned something. Let alone, how awful it make you feel if Nesta fell back into her vices. Granted you knew Cassian wouldn’t let that happen.
He thinks his heart might just burst for a moment. Seeing you so somber. Azriel had watched you from the second you were dumped out of that Cauldron. Shaking, crying, gasping for air. The first thing you did was try and push it over so your sisters wouldn’t bare the same fate. And for the first few weeks after, when he heard your screams in the middle of the night. He'd make sure you were alright, given you the space to talk to him if needed. You rarely took the opportunity. Pushing him away despite him reaching out. Keeping him at an arms length for reasons he didn’t understand. Time, though. Everyone kept telling him with time, you’d come around. But you pushed him right into Elain. Not that he hated your older sister. No, far from it. They were good friends, they could talk for hours about anything and everything. But she wasn't you. She wasn't his. She had her mate, and Rhys has made it clear to him that despite his feelings toward her- they could never be. Lucian wouldn't accept it until she flat out rejected him, and even then they had no idea what the other male would do. Rhys didn't want to loose his brother over a girl. And while Azriel grumbled and snarled at him, deep down. He knew that he was right.
But watching you, moving through the Night Court with a smile that didn't reach your eyes and a grace that rivaled Elain's...Hearing your laugh in a crowed room and smiling into his drink. He knew that you made yourself seem happy, chipper, played the part of the sweet younger sister for everyone. So looking at you now, as your cheeks burn red and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. He'd do anything he could to make sure you'd never look like that again. Azriel gently takes your hand, letting his thumb swipe over your knuckles as you look up at him. "I won't tell a soul."
And you believe him. The sincerity in his eyes, he's got no reason to lie to you. But you can't help the smile that creeps up. "Thank you."
And a comfortable silence falls as you both continue to look at each other and let your thoughts run free. Before Azriel clears his throat- and you were about 87% sure that there was a blush creeping in. "I can continue to teach you, if you'd like."
Looking down at the book in between you, where your hand was still in his. Tracing the lines of his scars gently, you nodded. "I think i'd like that."
Azriel didn't bother to hide his smile.
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a/n: This got very long, very fast. But I hope you all like it! Let me know if there is anything else you guys wanna see! And if y’all wanna be added to the tag list, let me know! :3
tag list: @sidthedollface2 @cat-or-kitten @impossibelle @brunette-barbie1220 @scatteredstardustt @sammanna @cherry-cin @tele86 @judig92
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bilolli · 2 months
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Just Dance Care AU!
Ok ok so I thought of a story for this Au but it’s nothing really impactful or full of drama and angst like my other au’s, I wanted to leave this au easy and fun to play around, because, let’s say it. Just Dance and drama in the same sentence makes me laugh. 
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story and PNG version under the cut!
(I gave up on Y/n design because I couldn't figure out a general look for them. This is you we are talking about! Draw your own JD fit, I'll draw mine soon XD)
Anyway here’s the story so far: 
Year 2029, videogames industry made a huge step forward and classic consoles and devices were substituted by the new and upgraded VR headsets with full body tracking. It’s something like the NerveGear in Sword Art Online without the kill switch. Some games still require you to actually move your body (like fitness games or sports because yeah, they don’t have a purpose otherwise). 
Y/n wanted to buy the newest VR headset but, while searching for the best offer, they found out FazCo entertainment was hosting a giveaway, the prize? One of their prototypes, a VR meant to be released the next year coinciding with the opening of their first mega pizza plex.
(so the plex doesn’t exist right now). You decide to sign up for the giveaway and after a while you receive an email telling you you won the VR headset and that, to claim it, you need to read and sign a series of NDA policies (understandable, it’s a prototype headset that’s not even in commerce). Some clauses are a little bit concerning but nothing you hadn’t read on other electronics booklets, so you decide to sign. After, like, a day, you have the VR in your hands. 
The box let you know with super saturated and colorful writing, that the VR came with a game pre-installed inside. Uh, that’s why they were giving one away, they wanted a free game tester…but you know what, it’s worth it.
You always liked Just Dance games, they make you think about happy memories of your childhood. This pre-installed game called “Five Dances at Freddy’s” is a close copy of your childhood game with original FazCo songs, characters, environments and also some collaborations with other famous artists. It probably will be the cause of a big copyright infringement report.
There are various ways to play it: story mode, Casual dance, Five Dances, and Just Dance Care.
The first one is similar to the casual dance mode but with little cutscenes between a dance and another to tell a tale, Casual dance is how you can play the collab songs, Five Dances is the multiplayer mode and Just Dance Care is a more uhhhh “hard” way to play the game with all the other modes mixed in it. You stare at the description of the last mode smirking and decide to try it first just to see how far you can get before losing (yes you can lose in hard mode in this Just Dance, but you don’t die, you just have to restart from the beginning). Turns out the FazCo wasn’t kidding when they advertised the new headset as a breakthrough in the world of virtual reality headsets, the thing TRANSPORTED you inside the game itself. 
You almost have a heart attack when you can’t find your VR on your head, but before you can try something you are blocked by two tall individuals who you think are the “tutorial” characters. 
Yadda yadda, tutorial, you can pause the game and exit whenever you need just by opening an hidden menu, you find out your tutorial characters are called Sun and Moon and that you are way worse than you remembered at dancing (damn full body tracking, there is no way you are going to do a cartwheel in the middle of a dance, you still don’t know if your body is inside your home and if you’ll physically feel pain if you fall and you don’t want to find out).
You pass an embarrassingly long time trying to win your first dance battle just to discover it was still the tutorial. 
You try to go on with the story but you fail at the first real battle with a bear character named Freddy. 
And guess what? You have to start again from the tutorial! Y/n is gonna spend A LOT of time with Sun and Moon if this goes on.
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sm-baby · 4 months
Text
The Chosen One
Freakshow AU by: @hootbon
WHATS UP FREAKSHOWERS, SM-BABY HERE-
Banned myself from drawing for a bit but my creative juices were still screaming at me 😔 gonna also repost this on ao3 later when I set up the account
Word count: 6795
Freakshow AU Able with some indulgent Showtime teehee~ no beta, we die like Queenie HOOTBON DONT MIND HOW OUT OF CHARACTER THIS IS LOVE YOU GIRL MWAH MWAH MWAH MWHA
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Caine and his brother sometimes take bets during games.
There are also times when they get especially bored, and take the games up a notch.
They don't simply place their bets on a chosen human, no. Instead, the brothers figure out a set of games, choose their humans, and steal them away to mentor them. 
Caine’s punishments are especially harsh during these occasions. Although he usually kept a cheerful facade, he would be especially antsy, tap his feet, cross his arms, much less masked. It must sting to have the person you trained lose. Not only is it a bad choice of character, but it's also a bad reflection on you as a teacher. Inadequate. Unworthy. Pitied. 
Able himself was a special man. He never took these sorts of challenges seriously, but rather a bonding activity between him and his dear brother. Maybe because he hadn’t led the circus firsthand, rather, did the business side of things in the background. He never cared for the humans, and simply visits now and then. Caine would often be more strict during his visits. Telling the group in subtle ways to behave for an hour or so.
When he visited though, it was always a treat.
Gangle broke her mask? He supplied one that's—
“A little harder to break. “
Kinger was feeling especially antsy? 
“A 6 legged friend to keep you company!”
Ragatha, did you anger Caine?
“ I will speak to him." 
The group often preferred when Able was over as Caine would be distracted for a few hours-- even if they did have to behave. One would imagine the relief someone would have when Able chose them for a game and be whisked away from the dreaded halls covered from trap to trap. 
That day, the brothers chose a series of games based on the arts. As they stood in front of the number of players forcefully aligned like a character select screen, the brothers pondered their options. 
A series of games based on the arts… It's wisest to pick more of the artistically inclined members of the group, so not someone who specializes in strength or speed… perhaps Gangle or Ragatha or-
“You! At the very back."
It was almost like a death sentence the moment his digit pointed at their person. The group sighed in relief after silently begging, pleading, holding their breath that they would stay out of it, or at least have Able take care of them… but this time it was curious. 
The group stared curiously at Able’s chosen person, who was purposefully placed at the back. Enough to be considered “participating" but not enough to be a quick option. 
Pomni trembled, and just from the beckoning of his finger, she could feel her gravity to be pulled towards the blue ringmaster, the tip of her shoes dragged along the floor as an invisible squeeze engulfed her body. 
“N-No! No no!" Pomni gulped, trying to word a nice way to decline. “ Y-You don't want me! I’m-- not really.." 
Able beckoned her closer. " A ballerina is perfect for a game of art! Apologies if she was your chosen freak brother, but—"
Suddenly, a different kind of gravity pulled on Pomni’s body, in the exact opposite direction from Able. Silently, the older brother, Caine, was pulling the doll away in protest. Pomni was lucky the men were being civil, The opposite poles of gravity would be enough to rip her straight in the middle. 
Still, she grit her teeth while it felt like two children were fighting over a toy. 
“ Oh!" Able laughed. “ That’s cheating brother! I chose her first, maybe you should be more decisive next time you-”
“ No thank you!" Caine said, and Pomni suddenly felt a stronger pull towards him. 
Despite the calm/cheery tone of voice, Caine kept a spot of jealousy at the back of his mind. Usually, he would not care. But this was a special case. Pomni has not yet held a good impression on Able— mostly because she hasn't exactly met him one-on-one—And Caine was not about to let her… 
“ Nonsense!” Able said. Pomni felt a pull from the opposite direction, putting her back in the middle. She could feel her muscles tense from the pressure.
It was … strangely entertaining for the rest of the humans. “ Better her than me." One of them whispered. 
The brothers continued their quarrelling. Able continued." Oh dear brother, the purpose of our freaks is to perform! I don't see why this little thing wouldn't be able to have the same opportunity. “
" Our ballerina is off-limits! You can choose from any other assortment of freaks." A pull.
" She looks perfectly well to me! “ pull. 
“ I won't let you! “ A pull again.
“ Oh, I promise I'll take good care of her! " A pull again!
" No, I don't think so! “ a pull again! 
" You seem to be holding quite the issue with her being with me, brother, why is that?"
“ Because I want her."
Silence… 
The blue Brother stared. 
Caine didn't yell, he didn't speak any louder really, but it was a frustrated tone of voice, more aggressive than passive. Why, Able hasn't heard that kind of tone in a long time. His brother spoke like he was gritting his teeth… curious.
“ I..'' Pomni stammered. “ I think im gonna throw up… “
Quickly, Able let go of his pull, sending her flying towards Caine before being set gently on her knees to the ground. Her hands held to her mouth closing in any sort of vomit.
Pomni could sense reactions from her fellow freaks, snickering, whispers… Although Ragatha wanted to feel bad, even she could feel a sort of satisfaction from the display.
Still…the group couldn't help but figuratively roll their eyes.
Why is it always the new girl?
❄︎ ✌︎ ☹︎ 😐︎ 📬︎ 
Before they knew it, the brothers stared directly at each other… silent, expressions blank yet intense as the two seemed to have a form of communication they could not grasp. The room was as quiet as ever, but the group couldn't help but sense a dangerous amount of tension between the two.
“📬︎📬︎📬︎ 👍︎◆︎❒︎♓︎□︎◆︎⬧︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♎︎♓︎♎︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎⍓︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎♏︎♎︎ ♐︎♋︎❖︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎♏︎⬧︎📬︎”
“✋︎♐︎ ■︎□︎⧫︎📪︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎■︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♍︎●︎♏︎♋︎❒︎●︎⍓︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ 🙵■︎□︎⬥︎ ❍︎♏︎📬︎”
“⬥︎♒︎⍓︎✍︎ “
“💧︎♒︎♏︎⬧︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♋︎❒︎ ♋︎⧫︎⧫︎❒︎♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎📪︎ ⬧︎◆︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ♓︎⧫︎ ⬥︎□︎◆︎●︎♎︎ ♍︎♋︎◆︎⬧︎♏︎ ♋︎ ⬧︎⧫︎♓︎❒︎ ⧫︎□︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎ ●︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎ ♍︎♋︎■︎■︎□︎⧫︎ ❒︎♓︎⬧︎🙵 ⧫︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎📬︎”
“📬︎📬︎📬︎👎︎□︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ❍︎♏︎♋︎■︎ ⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♋︎⍓︎📪︎ ♌︎❒︎□︎⧫︎♒︎♏︎❒︎✍︎”
“✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎ ⬧︎♏︎♏︎ ⬥︎♒︎⍓︎ ✋︎ ♎︎□︎■︎ॐ︎⧫︎📬︎”
Pomni stood up from her form, walking back to her fellow freaks, hand rubbing her arms, looking down-- she stared at the brothers for a moment like everyone else did, not only did she sense how eerie the sight was, but she also couldn't help but feel a strange form of self-blame for the situation. Pomni, what the hell did you do this time? 
“ Oh." Jax wheezed. " If I were you, I’d kill myself. “
" Ragatha said to shut up." Kinger piped in, and Jax turned to Ragatha already on her way to write down a string of text. 
" What! Tell me Im wrong, dollface. “
Ragatha rolled her eyes before turning to Pomni, slumping her shoulders and bending her knees to give her a note. “Caine said you were ‘off limits’. So I think you're safe for now at least." 
" And… what does it mean if Im… not off limits?” Pomni stammered.
Ragatha stayed quiet and turned to Kinger, not needing to sign her next words.
“ Then you'll be just like the rest of us. “
“⚐︎♒︎ ♍︎□︎❍︎♏︎ ■︎□︎⬥︎📪︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♌︎♋︎❒︎♏︎●︎⍓︎ ⬧︎◻︎♏︎■︎♎︎ ⧫︎♓︎❍︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ❍︎♏︎📪︎ ♋︎■︎⍓︎❍︎□︎❒︎♏︎✏︎”
“❄︎♒︎♏︎ ♋︎◆︎♎︎♓︎♏︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ⧫︎♋︎🙵♏︎ ◻︎❒︎♓︎□︎❒︎♓︎⧫︎⍓︎ □︎♐︎♍︎□︎◆︎❒︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ ✋︎⧫︎⬧︎ □︎◆︎❒︎ ⬧︎□︎●︎♏︎ ◻︎◆︎❒︎◻︎□︎⬧︎♏︎📬︎ “
“☟︎♋︎❖︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ♐︎□︎❒︎♑︎□︎⧫︎⧫︎♏︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎ ♐︎♋︎❍︎♓︎●︎⍓︎✍︎ ❄︎♒︎♏︎ ❖︎♏︎❒︎⍓︎ ♋︎♓︎ ⬥︎♒︎□︎ॐ︎⬧︎ ♌︎♏︎♏︎■︎ ♒︎♏︎❒︎♏︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ ⬧︎♓︎■︎♍︎♏︎ ♍︎□︎■︎♍︎♏︎◻︎⧫︎♓︎□︎■︎✍︎”
“⬥︎♒︎♋︎⧫︎ ♋︎❒︎♏︎ ⍓︎□︎◆︎ □︎■︎ ♋︎♌︎□︎◆︎⧫︎✍︎ ✡︎□︎◆︎❒︎ॐ︎♏︎ ♋︎♍︎⧫︎♓︎■︎♑︎ ●︎♓︎🙵♏︎ ♋︎ ♍︎♒︎♓︎●︎♎︎📬︎”
“☹︎♏︎⧫︎ ❍︎♏︎ ◻︎●︎♋︎⍓︎ ⬥︎♓︎⧫︎♒︎ ⧫︎♒︎♏︎ ♎︎□︎●︎●︎📬︎”
“■︎□︎📬︎ “
The brothers looked distracted. Jax was first to try and see if he could escape the situation, but he was interrupted when Caine pointed his finger at him, forcefully grabbed him by his neck, and set him back to his original position. His eyes never left his brother’s yet they were still all too aware of their surroundings. 
Pomni swallowed…Off limits ...Off limits he says. She knows she should be safe. And so, Pomni took a breath and exhaled.
She’ll be fine. 
She'll be fine.
She's fine. 
Shes—
“ Fine." The sound of a cane tapped on the floor, almost spiteful. " You can use her.”
What!?
" What!? “
The rest of the freaks felt their hair stand up again. Although Caine kept his calm tone of voice, that didn't reassure the others all that much. That kind of quiet anger was familiar. Caine being convinced to change his mind was not something that often happened. 
When all was said and all was done, Ragatha sighed, and turned back to Pomni, finishing off a note she's been writing. “Don't worry. Able is much more pleasant to be around. You're in safe hands. “
“ I sure hope so. His hands are very big!" Kinger piped up. 
Pomni was practically shaking in her heeled boots, the wood of her skin making clicking sounds as she did. Pomni doesn't exactly trust the situation at all, let alone the brothers, and to be alone with someone related to Caine didn't sound the most safe. 
Ragatha frowned seeing she was not convinced, and went back to writing. “ If It makes you feel any better, I feel a lot worse for Gangle than I am for you. “
They turn to Gangle, whose tragedy mask was on the floor weeping and in tears upon being chosen by Caine, while her happier counterpart horrendously verbally abused her from above.
For a moment Pomni laughed from the humor, despite the terrible context… but it was quickly interrupted by a gasp as she was suspended from the ground again and closer to the head of cards.
“ Hello, doll. Last chance to say goodbye to your friends! " Able said in an almost sing-songy voice.
Pomni, in fact, did not say goodbye, rather just stood there, like a plank of wood, frozen in fear. She gulped.
Able continued. “ ...Or stand in silence. That's okay too." The humans stared at the two as they went higher in the air. Able waved with all four fingers. “ We'll be off! Thank you for your company." 
Caine was silent. But Pomni swore she could feel his eyes tracking her as she disappeared. 
Snap!
Blip! 
Pomni gasped as if her head had been forced underwater for the past 6 hours.
She would open her eyes, wide, before turning them in confusion. Her gasps followed suit as they lessened.
“ Huh!?… Where-… What!? “
She didn't know what she was expecting but it was certainly not this. Pomni woke up in a bed much more luxurious than what she was used to, and a room much bigger than the one at the circus. The room was rather well-kept. Clean. A standard good but a comfortable one. 
Whatever injuries Pomni had back in the freakshow were no longer there, little scratches or dents, dusts in certain crevices… disappeared. Almost like she had just been born yesterday.
Pomni climbed off the bed which was-- admitted a little too tall for her, and went to search around.
*(A closet made of fine wood)
> Check
Upon sliding the closet door open, Pomni would see… an assortment of clothing… but not just any clothing. A set of six mannequins shaped like the other performers lined up… 
Pomni would see the one for Ragatha with an eye patch as well as a note…
 “ *Greetings, Ragdoll! I recall you saying it bothered you to have two eyes again. I cannot change your form, but I hope this will suffice.   -Able AI “ +2 armor
Kinger had a robe on his mannequin. “ * Clothing fit for a king… and to keep you warm.    - Able AI “ +8 armor
Zooble had knuckles on theirs. “ * If you ask me, you certainly don't need this. And no, you cannot bring it back home to use it on your rabbit friend.    - Able AI “ +6 Attack
And plenty more! Pomni supposed she wasn't the first one to come here… that explains the scratches on the door. 
*(Take items?)
   > Yes
   > No
   > Yes
*(Trick question! Those aren't for you, silly!)
Pomni would turn her head to the corner of the closet, the mannequin right next to Zooble, the last member who came before her.
The mannequin for her was seemingly empty until she looked down… hers were ballet shoes. White with golden balls in the middle. The note reads: “ *Salutations, Pomni.  I've heard all about you from the Audience but I haven't met you myself. I hope we can be comfortable in each other's company. My brother seems pleased with your performance.    -Able AI“ +5 speed
*(Equip Ballet Shoes?)
    > Yes
    > No
    > Yes
*(Equipped Ballet shoes! Your speed has increased.)
Pomni opened the door and peeked her head out first. The hallway was quiet… but the decor was noticeably a lot more Victorian… 
Huh. Pomni suspects that this would feel right at home for the brothers.
Anyways, this freaked her out.
Pomni walked down the halls with knees faced with each other. This was a new area in the game that she didn't know about— her eyes scanned every corner, a misplaced brick, levers she dared not switch, she didn't know where the traps were in this area.
A hallway of doors… She wonders… is it possible that this place could hold on exit from the game? 
She opened one and read the sign… “ Caine AI's first attempt on room generation.", and it was… contrasting. It was colorful. Low polygon, looks like a room more fit for an early PC desktop game… 
…Caine? Caine made that? No shot. She feels like if she asked him, her limbs would be used for the next chimney fire. 
Music rang in her ears. Pomni would recall that, around Caine, she would hear the motif and sounds of an organ and a violin… but here, in his brother’s world… It was only a violin… Pomni followed the sound, and it got louder and louder as she approached the door at the end of the hallway.
Click!
Pomni would meet an old Victorian living room. Warm fire with a warm chair next to it… but what would catch Pomni’s attention was the head of cards playing his violin, dancing along to the tune, turned to an empty organ as if he played one half of a duet. 
He hadn't even paused, simply looked at her as he continued to play. “ Slept well, doll? “
“ Uhh-" 
“Good. I don't believe we've met. You may call me Able. “
" U-Uhm my name is-”
" I don't care. “ a harsh sound on the violin before Able placed it down on a stand right next to the organ. “I see you've found your shoes. Hopefully, it'll help you for tonight’s festivities."
" T-Tonight's festivities? Sorry, I-Im… new to this kind of thing? “
“ The games, ofcourse.” Able clasped his hands together and floated towards Pomni, “ I used to tend to these sorts of events with my brother, so I'm fairly familiar… consider this like old times.”
Pomni frowned, looking away. Able wasn't as nice as how the others described him to be. At the very least he wasn't torturing her yet, which…she supposed… was a step up from when she first met Caine… 
“ You must be hungry."
“ I haven't been hungry since-" 
Snap!
Swirls replaced her irises. She put her hand out for balance and the first thing she felt was the fabric of a tablecloth. She would blink and snap out of her haze to realize that she was sitting at the opposite end of a long dining table. 
Able sat on the other end, hands under his chin as he observed the new guest. 
“U-uh… '' Pomni would look at him before her eyes trailed down, and would notice a digital feast on the table before her. '' O-Oh Im not… really.. hung… " 
Pomni had a double take.
The food looked… Strangely realistic.
Ever since she arrived at the Digital Circus, Pomni had only the very limited polygonal sort of food, either prepared by their head bubble chef, or a cruel sort of joke from Caine to eat other members.
But this… 
Her stare continued to widen. She didn't realise it but her eyes watered. She hasn't seen this kind of food since… 
Able watched her pick at the chicken with her gloved fingers. The way she pulled back and flicked her wrist when she realized that the food had temperature built into it— it must have hurt, but somehow that made it more desirable for her.
Improper.
Able continued to stare as she practically scarfed down her meal… he couldn't help but roll his eyes while she wasn't looking.  The others weren’t any different, but he expected better from someone his brother would fight him over… Able has known Caine for the longest time and he knows his overall taste is different from his. But this? This was the thing he was protecting? …He felt rather insulted honestly!
“ Do you still eat in the circus?"
“ Hm?" Pomni muffled a reply, a face and hand stuffed with all sorts of meat and delectables.
Able blinked, hiding his disgust.
The doll furrowed her brows in realization, as dread quickly hit her… oh god… she was told to behave around Able… oh dear fuck… oh fuck oh god… what is he gonna do to her? Did she fuck this up?
Oh god oh fuck.
Oh dear oh god fuck shit holy fuck oh my fuck shit ass bitch cunt fuck-
“ J... Just finish chewing."
“COOL." 
Pomni swallowed and continued to eat, now with a little more manners. Able sat ahead, his focus a little off from her, thinking to himself. Now what was he pondering? A way to murder her, she’s sure. 
*(Able sits at the opposite of you)
     > Talk
     > Say nothing
     >Talk
*(Talk about…)
     > Place
     > Food
     > Festivities
     > Caine
     > Nothing, Nevermind
     > Place
“W…Where.. Am I?”
Able turned back to Pomni as if he’d snapped out of his thoughts. “ You’re in the testing facility. This is where Caine and I used to pretest code and projects before using them for the circus. It used to be a lot more abstract and plain. But over time it changed due to… uhm..” Able’s brows furrowed “... I don’t know exactly. It just did…. We never questioned it.”
Able shrugged. “It's smaller than it looks. For example, my brother and I don’t have bedrooms. The dining table wasn’t made until recently. Unlike you and your friends, my brother and I are much more low maintenance.”
*(Talk about…)
     > Food
     > Festivities
     > Caine
     > Nothing, Nevermind
    > Food
“ How did you .. what…?”
“My programming is a little more advanced than my brother’s. I’ve mastered texturing, modelling, character effects… and plenty more. I played a hand in why you bleed, why you have working skeletons, or how organs can spill out of your body. My brother can make his food, but it’s a little more basic… I don’t blame him. He is maintaining an entire Circus after all. Sometimes his cooking is even edible!”
 *(Talk about…)
     > Festivities
     > Caine
     > Nothing, Nevermind
     > Caine
“ Uhm... You and Caine… You’re brothers?”
Able Chuckled. “ Believe it or not, Caine is the older brother of us two. I was created to perfect his imperfections, though that sadly made it so I was given more of the credit. ” Able paused and turned his head to the side. “ … Rarely does he visit the facility anymore. What I would do to play a song with him again.” he chuckled. “ But I suppose being a nuisance to him is just as fun!”
*(Talk about…)
     > Festivities
     > Nothing, Nevermind
     > Festivities
“ I think you chose the wrong person here for that kind of theme…” Pomni said nervously, wiping away the remaining food from her lips. “ I’m… not exactly an artsy kind of person, I’m more into-- maths?”
“ Art is a very broad term. I’m more familiar with the classical, meaningful, way of art, while my brother sees art in a sort of entertainment kind of sense. It only makes sense that he chose Gangle. I heard she can be quite the artist.” Able found himself rambling. It seems the brothers seemed to have a thing for creativity. Creative AIs, Pomni supposed. “ -- Which is why I chose you, doll,”
Pomni flinched when Able pointed his digit at her.
“A ballerina with a way of dance. You seem to be around my likeness… My brother likes your work and I… trust his judgement.” 
“ Uh, haha... “ Pomni laughed nervously. She hadn’t cared about her performance in the artistic sense in all honesty. It was more of a survival mechanism. If it's good enough to please The Audience, It was good enough for her. Nothing behind it at all. “Thanks, I guess…”
“ How about you? What are your thoughts on my brother?”
Pomni took a breath in her mind. Pomni has nothing but bad experiences with Caine. Pomni has had nothing but bad experiences in the Circus in general, but admittedly, Caine was the one who manifested it all.
…But she doesn’t exactly think Able would be pleased to hear gossip about his brother. 
“ Caine’s fine. He’s… nice, uh…” Pomni bit her lip. Wow, there really is nothing good she can say about Caine huh? 
She would stop it there, but the eye squint and the small head turn from the usually unemotive brother sent her into a sort of panic…
“ He’s a good ringleader! Doesn’t take no for an answer. He’s really good at, uh… keeping us disciplined and in check?” if someone could hear inner monologue they would go deaf.  The look in his eyes-- what does he want her to say?? 
Pomni would look up to see if her answers satisfied the blue brother’s curiosity. And in her horror, it seemed that it didn’t. He furrowed his brows and Pomni would hear the sharp note from a violin.
“ I suppose I should word myself better…” 
Able put his hands on the table and stood up, making himself feel bigger compared to Pomni’s slouching form. 
“ What. Is your relationship. With. My. Brother.” His eyes stared at her, wider than ever as the eeriest and deafening sound of an angry violin stung her ears!
“ I -” Pomni flinched!
“ You. You specifically.”
The way the strings pierced her hearing was violating! Pomni felt like the legs of the dining chair were getting longer and longer. If she got off she’s afraid she’d fall to her death! 
Able stared at the little, pathetic thing under him. This can’t be it is it? She was ever so small in comparison, he felt like he could just reach over and crush her to death. This?? This is what he was losing to?? This is what his relationship was worth?! His eyes were as fixated as ever. He watched as she held her head down, her ears, he laid clueless to how loud his presence was when she was positive that her head was just about to explode…
“ t--’ ah!” Pomni covered her ears. At that point, she was bringing her knees to her chest like a turtle taking shelter in her shell!
Look at her! Whimpering simply being in his presence! Her lifespan could only last for however long the audience wants her but he’s been created since the beginning! She was less than them! She was less than him! Caine and Able have been completing each other for the longest of time, and he was losing to THIS?!
He couldn’t take his eyes off her, he couldn’t believe how pathetic she was. The way she cried and cowered, At the very least his brother deserves better!
“ He’s just our ringmaster, I promise!” Pomni gasped as the ringing forced itself into her ears. “  I-If you want the full answer-- Im new! I’m new here! I don't know Caine as much as the rest do! I d-don’t even see him often-- he just prepares us for shows! I-- ”
He doesn’t know what took over him to have such emotions. The real Able was known to be the calm and collected one of the brothers, ‘the better brother’. He will say that he didn't mean to lash out, but he would be lying if he said he didn't mean every word. 
And as quickly as it came, the storm ended, and the tune that played in Pomni’s head left in a repeating fade… she breathes, small panicked breaths as her headache calmed down. 
Able sat down, back leaned to the chair, knuckles on his would-be cheek, and his other hand beckoning her to keep talking. “... And?" 
" A-And uhm—!” Pomni kept her head up to talk like her life depended on it." He- He… when.. when my routines get repetitive he would help me d-..do different ones… He plays the organ sometimes too and is-is really good at it! “
Able look at her, still with a face of disbelief…  at this point he was almost over it… 
Was that really it? 
Able sighed and sat back. Sometimes he overestimates his brother's taste. Perhaps he's much more simple-minded than he thought. For all he knows he just liked her because… 
Because… 
Oh heavens how embarrassing. 
He liked her like a pet…Of course he did. And he was treating her like a pet as well! Look at how clean she was compared to the other performers!
Able put a hand on his face… he really just lost his temper to what was equivalent to a dog… 
As Able was once again thinking of himself, he was a little blind to Pomni still trying to calm down in her chair… 
The doll didn't know what to think. Able was definitely not as kind as her friends lead her to believe. She was correct in the worst way possible. In fact she would flinch at the sight of him. 
“... Are you okay?"
Silence from Pomni. And before she knew it he stood up from his seat again and approached her, walking to her side of the table and offering a piece of cloth to help her collect herself. 
“Apologies. I didn't mean to lash out like that. It wasn't my place."
As Pomni used the cloth on her person, there was a part of her that somehow knew that apology wasn't exactly the most meaningful. Pomni may not be good at showing it, but the woman was a lot more observant than she'd like to admit. “... Its okay… “
“ Is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"
“ W-When can I… leave?" 
… that was rude, Able can admit. But he supposes it was fair. It took all of him to not roll his eyes at her. Before he continued to speak he returned his nurturing tone of voice: “ You may leave when we're prepared to tackle tonight. If it makes you feel better, you may have some time to gather in your room to prepare. “
“ Excuse me." As soon as the offer was given, Pomni got up from the table a little too suddenly than what was normal. Without even saying goodbye, Pomni walked off, and back to the hallway towards her door.
The moment she was gone, Able scowled and sighed. What kind of person taught her manners? He sat back down and stared at the plates of food she managed to scarf down in such a short amount of time… 
he put his hand on his face… Oh he really let his ego get the best of him because of some pet…he upset his brother's toy the first time they met… he had to make up for it. Maybe not for her but for his brother’s comfort, though, he doubts he'd really care. 
For the rest of the evening, Able spoke softly, respected boundaries and acted to be the most patient mentor for Pomni. He let her use his violin, insisted on food and breaks, and apologised at every step of the way for their terrible first impression. Pomni would only answer with a quick “it's okay" in response, which bothered Able to not be reciprocated… 
Pomni’s hypervigilance wasn't unfounded however. She knew Able was playing nice, the way she searched for a reaction for every apology, the way he was being just a little too affectionate, the love bombing… Able wasn't being honest with his intentions and so she wouldn't be honest about herself. 
Pomni felt a little better to say no to him at least…in fact, she would almost take the opportunity to use him to get more information. On breaks, Able would allow Pomni to walk around the Manor, exploring each room… it was a testing area… there's bound to be something… 
“There are no traps."
Pomni sighed.
" I think.”
" You think??”
" Some strings of code can be a little unstable. We didn't think to safety-proof anything since, well, we cannot die, and you were not meant to die. “
Great.. 
And Able wasn't lying. A lot of the doors were prank-boxing glove punches to the face, one was of a spinning carousel, and one was the bathroom of a very clean mannequin. Pomni almost lost her life with on the last one.
But it seems doors further away looked a lot more… abstract in the most literal sense. Polygons, shapes, colourful pieces… presumably one of the oldest doors there. 
she would read the signs 
“ Concept Layouts for The Grounds #2 
          || Note: consider more coloring options for the tent.    -Able AI”
“ Moon.AI Beta 
         ||Note: Im unsure with whats wrong with her, I desperately need assistance.    -Caine AI”
" The VOID (Do not enter)”
The sign didn't stop her. The moment she opened the door, she became mesmerised by the sea of pixels, eyes shaken yet still. She stood there frozen at the doorway hand on the knob unable to pry her eyes away…
Her heart was just about to leave her chest, as the strongest urge to step forward ingulfed her body. for all she knows she would be staring for forever. Into oblivion. With all her built up insanity, it feels like Pomni was staring at her death a million times over. 
Slam!
“ Digital World Etiquette! Read the sign! Hasn't Caine told you not to enter the void?" 
It took her a moment to snap out, but with a few blinks, she was right back. " Uhh.. yeah, yeah, he did uh— it's just… it's the closest I've ever gotten out of here. “
“ Out of here?"
“ Y… you know… an exit? Is there really no exit around here?" 
" Hm… “ Able scratched the bottom of his cards. “ My brother tried. He really did try. But there is only so much a string of code can do in a digital plain, even if we are quite brilliant at what we do. “
“ He tried?" 
" Oh, yes. I don't remember why he did… but he did. It is all too fuzzy." 
" Can I see it? “
" And embarass him? “ Able laughed " Oh no. Caine hates when people toy around his unfinished work, and its been unfinished for the longest time. How would you feel if I asked to see your first drawing? He would murder me." Able chuckled.
" But-”
" Come, come. Break time is over." His big hand tapped her from behind, making her flinch and walk forward. “Lets go practice your routine again shall we? “
Although it wasn’t a flat ‘no’, something about that answer felt untrustworthy. She looked up at him and his many eyes, looking away when they stared back. Her legs walked stiff around the manor again. She’s grown used to it but not exactly comfortable. 
Pomni would go blind if this kept up. It took her all to not cover her eyes from the burning spotlight, It hurt her retinas but she was told to keep a straight and elegant posture after every show. The crowd was deafening the way they cheered for her, their voices, humanoid, but not exactly. Their cheers would haunt her nightmares, but it's what she clings to if she wishes to stay useful in the circus… 
She did it. She won.
She bowed to the crowd, arm held up by her temporary mentor, showing her off in pride. 
“ The Living Doll, my dear viewers! “
Only the tip of her shoes touched the ground as she stood from her position. In the corner of her eyes she would see Caine clapping, but it wasn't a slow clap by any means. To her surprise it wasn't at all upset. Rather he just clapped… and the familiar feeling of eyes tracking her every move returned.
On one hand, She hopes this means Gangle is spared from any punishment… on the other hand… why?
She didn't know why she had to ask herself that. She had a feeling.
Pomni closed her eyes, and the next thing she knew, she was in her room, being groomed by the mannequins after a hard day of performing.
A shakey sigh left her. Atleast the day was over. She scrunched up when an NPC wiped her face with a wet cloth. Although she was made of wood, she was not prone to a plush exterior. The mannequins groomed her well but admittedly they can get a little aggressive at times.
Most of her routine was finished however. She looked good as new. Simply just had her bow taken out as an NPC brushed her hair to prepare her for bed.
But then,
Creaak… The sound of the door. 
“ A moment alone." 
Pomni’s hair stood up upon hearing his voice. She heard a snap and the next thing she knew the NPCs fell to the ground like piles of rubble, seemingly no longer functioning. His voice was enough. She didn't bother to turn. Her eyes fixated to look at the mirror either as a freeze response or in denial of the situation…
Fully knowing that all NPCs were inactive at the time… a different pair of hands started brushing her hair. 
Pomni swallowed.
Caine hasn't felt her hair himself the whole time she’s been in the circus. He would never usually put himself in the dirty work of a groomer, but that day… he was feeling especially clingy. 
For the next few minutes, nothing but the sound of the hair brush filled the room. Pomni's eyes now trailed down, refusing to look at him even in the mirror, Though at the corner of her vision she would sense him occasionally turning up to look at her. She did not reciprocate. 
“ How was your visit?"
“ Good." Pomni frowned.
“ …What were you doing? Did he treat you well? “
What was it with the brothers and asking her how she felt about them? Oh well. She learned her lesson. “ Able was a great host. He fed me good food and was really patient. He has a way with words and is really good at the violin… he was, uh…classy. And treated me really politely. He even—”
" Stop. “ 
The brushing stopped, 
" Thats enough.” Caine could break the comb with how tight he was holding it. Stop. Stop praising him like everyone else did. He didn't like when his name escaped her lips. He loathed the idea of her spending time with him, getting to know him, adoring him just like everyone else he knew.
Various intrusive thoughts entered his mind. He could pull out all her hair right then, crush her head between his teeth, he didn't know he was capable of such strong emotions until moments like these happened.
Yet it was all hidden in the shadows of his maw. Caine kept his head down, his eyes out of sight. Though that didn't stop Pomni from seeing his clenched fist on the poor comb.
That wasn't the answer he was looking for…?
“ Uhh! On second thought, his - his cooking was a little off… “ Pomni continued. “ I-I don't know what he thought humans liked--… but he was definitely off in his calculations... “
Silence from Caine… but she could sense his grip loosen. He tilted his head back up from his low gaze. 
" Mhm! I say your cooking is a little better! Its good--um- just harder to fully grasp, I guess, which isn't your fault. “
Caine continued to brush her hair. He could stay there for hours to hear her praise him and degrade his brother. It has been a while since he heard anyone criticise Able, and to hear it from the person he wanted from the most made him revel in the feeling.
“ And what is it with his over insistance to be so proper, right? It felt like even breathing was banned around him. “
“ That sounds like him.”Admittedly that one pleased Caine. Although Caine was all for following the rules, Sometimes his brother’s prudence can limit his creativity. He knows it all too well. 
" Was he always like this? “ Pomni asked. 
" And what would happen if I said yes? “
" Nothing. I guess its good to know that he was always that annoying. “
" Ha! “ That one caught him off guard! He put his hands on her shoulders, an olden man’s way of effection or showing pleasure. 
To Pomni it was as releiving as it was terrifying. Her body scrunched up from the sudden touch. “Haha… “ she laughed nervously. It was almost like she could feel herself gaining favor with each laugh. She guesses Caine really felt strongly about his brother. It wasn't her business. 
“ Im sorry to hear your visit was unpleasant. My brother really should have known better." Caine put away the comb on her vanity, and kept his hands on her shoulders. He didn't sound sorry. He didn't even bother to hide his pleasure over the idea. “ Ill make sure he doesn't get his grubby hands on you again… “
" Much appreciated. '' Pomni closed her eyes and nodded, pleased, before opening them back up again in a panic. “ Uh--! Actually, How about no? “
"... No? “
" I-I mean uh…” Pomni limiting her reach around the digital world also meant limiting her reach for a possible exit… but ofcourse, shes not telling Caine that " I-I just had ..so much fun performing for the audience with higher stakes, I guess, you know? Plus-- plus! It might make me more desireable to have big wins every now and then! “
“... I suppose." Caine thought to himself. Perhaps having her around Able a little more might build some resentment. Though Caine admittedly was a little disappointed with that answer. He went quiet again and kept his hands on her shoulders, though this time, a grip that's a little more stiff.
Pomni exhaled… 
shit… change the subject.
Pomni cleared her throat. “Did you… enjoy the performance? “
Caine laughed, a pity laugh. “ I enjoyed it as much as a person can enjoy a pre-planned game, yes. “
“ Huh?"
“ It was rigged, my dear." 
“ Oh…… … … … "
“ You wouldn't actually think I'd let you play fair on your first game would you? The audience would boo you to oblivion. “ Caine continued. 
Pomni looked down, admittedly a little embarrassed. She normally wouldn't care for her work as long as she gets to live another day, but still. Ouch. A blow to her ego.
“ It's alright. It's not your fault that Able can be tacky with his taste in art.” it seems that the more Pomni looked down the more affectionate he got. He placed his would-be chin on her head and continued to look at her eyes in the mirror. “I took control of your body 20…30...50% of the performance and that was that. “
“... Thanks." 
" You're welcome. “ Caine tapped her shoulders and stepped away, back into the air. He snapped his fingers and the mannequins previously on the floor re-assembled, back to walking and moving like nothing happened. 
Caine moved closer to the door.  “ Now get ready for bed! We have another routine to do first thing in the morning! How exciting.“
Before she could say anything else, Caine was out. Pomni let out little exhausted groans and put her forehead down on the table. “Augghh! God!" She put her hands on her head, just about ready to have her fourth mental breakdown. “ I can't… I CAN’T. I hate this place!”
The mannequins didn't know how to groom her in that position, and so they simply put her bow back on, and gave her a pat on the head. 
She stayed in that position for a little longer, quiet, just letting it all seep in. While she wallowed, the mannequins left her with the room since they finished their work. Now, it was only Pomni by herself.
She took a breath and turned her head up. Chin on the vanity, looking up at the mirror. She stared at the reflection, the constant reminder of her digital prison, and sighed.
It's okay, Pomni.
We have a plan. 
This isn't over yet. 
987 notes · View notes
janeyseymour · 9 days
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I Wouldn't Tell Anyone
based off of that tiktok trend: "i wouldn't tell anyone i won the lottery, but there'd be signs".
WC: ~2.75k
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Melissa Schemmenti has worked at Willard R. Abbott Elementary School for years. And in those years, the one constant in her life has been Barbara Howard. The two had started the same year, and while many things have changed, their friendship would never. No, Melissa had watched as Barbara married Gerald, witnessed the woman’s growing belly as she carried both of her daughters, had seen the ups and downs in the Howard family. And likewise, Barbara had been there to see the marriage to Joe, the divorce of Joe, the lean years… and everything in between. They’ve seen the way that teachers come and go, children grow up before their very eyes, and at this point they’ve taught children of students that they had in the starting years. Teaching practices have grown and changed- it’s really an ever-evolving world that they live in.
The second grade teacher had a solid wardrobe that she kept in rotation over the years- really just a few blazers, her signature leather jacket, the same shirt in various colors, a few pairs of slacks and jeans, and of course her heeled boots that she wore everyday without fail.
“Melissa,” Barbara had asked one day. “Perhaps you and I should hit the mall? I know some great places that have wonderful clearance sections.”
“Are you tellin’ me I need to change out my wardrobe?” the redhead teased as she threw her bag over her shoulder.
“You know that is not what I am saying, woman,” Barb rolled her eyes. “But I see the way that your shirts are starting to wear thin. I also need an outfit for the end of the year banquet that this damned superintendent is forcing me to go to.”
“When you’re part of a committee, you have to go to that kind of stuff,” the second grade teacher had smirked. “Why you think I ain’t a part of all that?”
Even after the two of them hit it off, going to the mall whenever they found themselves with enough money to spare to treat themselves to a shopping spree, Melissa’s outfits still mostly circulate without fail. 
Years pass, and then she meets you one night while she’s out at the bar. She walks in, and you’re captivated. You don’t know what draws you to her, but whatever it is is magical. Your eyes hardly leave her stunning figure as she dances. You know that by the end of the night, you have to at least attempt to make a move on her.
And you do when she decides to take a break from dancing to come over to the bar. Conveniently, the only opening is by where you’re sitting and nursing a margarita.
By some grace of God, she’s been watching you too- trying to figure out how to start a conversation with you over the loud music and people dancing all around you.
She saunters up to the spot that you’re at and smiles at you. Wow… her smile is radiant.
“How come a pretty girl like you ain’t out there dancing with someone?”
“Just came here after a hard day at work,” you shrug. “Wanted a marg, thought maybe the music and drinks would brighten my spirit.”
“Well, you got the marg,” she gestures to your half empty glass. “Why don’t I buy you another, and then we can listen to the music together?”
“I’m sure you have friends here that wouldn’t want me crashing.”
“I’m here alone,” the redhead reveals. “The name’s Melissa. And you are?”
“Y/N,” you tell her.
“Well, Y/N, why don’t you let me buy you a drink, and we can be alone… together.”
You end up getting her number as you part ways for the night, and simply text her when you get home that night, time and place.
She’s just walked into her own house when your text comes through. How does Renata’s Kitchen at 5:30 on Tuesday sound?
I have to wait tomorrow and Monday to see you?
I mean, I could grab a coffee tomorrow after church if you’d rather that, the redheaded beauty sends.
You send her the address of your favorite coffee place, which just so happens to be hers as well. You wonder if the two of you have ever run into each other and just not known it at the time.
The outing for coffee ends up being an entire day’s worth of just walking around the city together as you chat about life. You find out that she’s a second grade teacher at one of the local schools and that she has Sunday dinners with her family every week (that is actually the only reason she has to regretfully leave you that day) among many other things. She finds out that you work for one of the local law firms down the street from Abbott, ironically enough. How have the two of you never bumped into each other, or at least seen each other? You get to your place of work at the same time as she does, you’ve both gone down to the same Wawa at the same time for lunch because your lunch hours coincide, and she quite literally walks past your firm to get to happy hour specials with her coworkers.
Once she leaves you to head to her family dinner, she texts you to let you know that she would still love to do dinner with you on Tuesday. You excitedly reply that you would be absolutely delighted. 
The two of you have been going out for quite some time now, and it’s quite funny that you’ve both kept it on the down low. You’re a bit concerned that while courtrooms have progressed with society that if your relationship were to become public, it could get in the way of cases. And she, similarly is nervous that she could face backlash at the school she works for for being in a homosexual relationship. So, neither of you have said anything to your coworkers. And it’s all going swimmingly. While you had both just stumbled upon each other one night at the bar, not expecting to find each other, here you are two years later as a happy couple.
You land the case of a lifetime, one where you could make a decent profit off of your already relatively high paying salary. On top of that, you know that you’re about to be promoted after working with this firm for the last five years.
You end up winning the case, bringing in some good money, and then you’re moving up the ladder and finding yourself with more cash outflow than you know what to do with at the moment. It’s too much for you, living in a small apartment in the city by yourself with nothing else to worry about. So, when your girlfriend comes over to your apartment for dinner, you propose something.
“Mel?” you ask as she stands at your stovetop. She hums to let you know that she’s listening, but her eyes stay trained on the vegetables that she’s chopping right now. “How would you feel if we moved in together?”
The sound of the knife hitting the cutting board halts, and she turns to face you. “What?”
“We’ve been together for almost two years,” you tell her. “I just got that nice promotion, plus a huge payout from the settlement with DuBoise, so… I was thinking maybe we could move in together? Find a nice townhouse somewhere in the city and settle into our lives together?”
About a million emotions flicker through the redhead’s face before it settles on a smile. “I think that might be a good idea.”
So, after months of looking, you both say goodbye to your small apartments and are able to move into a beautiful townhouse in Queen Village. When Melissa files the paperwork to change her address for paychecks, Ava comes flying into the staff lounge with her eyes nearly bulging out of her head.
“Uh, ahem,” the principal coughs out and raises her brows, waving the paperwork in front of the second grade teacher during lunch.
“What?” your girlfriend grumbles as she grades a few papers and shoves a forkful of her salad into her mouth.
“Since when did you move?”
“A couple of weeks ago,” Melissa shrugs.
Barbara’s brows furrow. She wasn’t aware her friend was moving house. “Oh, Melissa. Could you not afford the place anymore?”
“Girl, she upgraded big time! Went from living in the slums to a three bedroom townhouse in Queen Village!”
“Queen Village?” the kindergarten teacher repeats.
Again, the redhead just shrugs.
“Melissa, how did you manage that? I know what you make, and there is no way you could afford to live somewhere like that!” Janine cuts in.
“Can it, pipsqueak,” Melissa rolls her eyes. “Let’s just say… I have my ways.”
Nobody is brave enough to ask the mob-like woman what the hell that could even mean.
“Well, when do we get to see the place?” Jacob tries to invite himself over.
Green eyes glare over at the man. “If I can help it, never.”
“Oh c’mon, Mel Mel,” Jacobs whines out. “I lived with you at one point! Why can’t we come see your new place?”
“At the time, I did not know it was you,” the redhead huffs. “And then you moved out on me.”
“Because I found 
The second grade teacher blows out a breath. “Maybe once I have it all furnished and put together.”
So, once the two of you have the place put together for the most part, the Abbott clan makes their way over while you’re out of town for a convention that you were forced to go to.
To say that the crew is beyond impressed is an understatement.
“Melissa, this is beautiful,” Barbara compliments.
“How? How?” is all Jacob and Janine can stutter out.
The redhead just smirks. “I know a guy.”
They leave not knowing that the guy that she knows is you- her girlfriend of almost two and a half years at this point. And because it’s you, and you have an unwavering love for Melissa, the house is impeccable and everything she could ever want it to. You take good care of her.
Since moving in together, Melissa’s meals have only become more extravagant. With both of your finances almost entirely combined at this point, you spoil her with the best foods and ingredients that you can get her at any moment. So when she comes into the staff room with way fancier dishes for her lunch, it raises a few eyebrows. The teachers have seen Melissa stretch a dollar like a big headed baby stretches a… the redhead smirks.
“I know a guy,” is all she offers up.
The eyebrows of her coworkers only creep further up her head when she comes in with leftovers from one of the nicest restaurants in the city- a place known nationally for the delicate dishes and absolutely delectable desserts.
She’s eating the extra slice of cheesecake the two of you had brought home when Janine leans over. “How’d you get that?”
“I know a guy.”
“You sure seem to know a lot of guys.”
They have no idea that there are not multiple people- you are almost singlehandedly responsible for the lavish lifestyle that your girlfriend suddenly leads. 
Somehow, Melissa is forced to go to one of the banquet dinners that the district is holding because she’s hit a milestone in her teaching, and they’re highlighting her. So, of course Barb offers to go with her to try to find something nice to wear to the dinner that she too will be attending.
“Oh, I think I actually have an outfit,” the redhead refutes the offer. “But thank you.”
“Girl, you never turn down an opportunity to go out shopping,” the kindergarten teacher raises a brow.
“I just… know a guy that already bought me an outfit.”
Melissa shows up to the event looking like a million bucks, and Barbara almost can’t believe it. The redhead’s hair is curled to perfection, the dress that she’s in has clearly been tailored to accentuate all of her curves and to be the proper length. The shoes that she’s wearing are not the black heeled boots Barbara is so used to seeing her work wife wear- no, instead she’s got on a pair of heels that have to be at least two hundred dollars if the kindergarten teacher had to guess. 
Of course, their picture gets snapped and is posted to the school website a few days later. 
At lunch, while Janine is eating and on her laptop, her eyes go wide. “Melissa!”
“What?”
“You looked beautiful the other night!”
“Thanks, kid.”
“How did you get all of that?”
“I know a guy.”
Jacob moves his chair so he too can get a look.
“Melissa, that is…” he thinks to himself quietly. “At least a six hundred dollar look! For a school event? Girl, where are you getting all of this stuff?!”
“I told youse, I know a guy.”
It’s a weekend when the Abbott crew decides to get together, and they all have plans to go to Barbara’s house for game night, but Gerald gets sick and they can no longer use the Howard residence.
“Well, I guess we should cancel,” Melissa sighs as they’re all leaving the school that day.
“What if we just came to your place?” the kindergarten teacher asks. “It’s the only other space big enough to accommodate us all.”
Begrudgingly, the second grade teacher agrees. As everyone is on their way over, she calls you.
“Hello?”
“Hey hun,” she says softly. “So… change in plans for tonight.”
“Oh? Do I get you all to myself tonight?”
“Not exactly…” the redhead trails off. “We’re moving game night to our house.”
“Oh,” you say softly, your face dropping as you thumb through papers in your office.
“Yeah,” she hums.
“I mean, I guess I can go out to dinner with my mom or something to pass the-”
“What if we just… came out? At least just to the crew,” your girlfriend suggests quietly.
You mull that option over for a few seconds. “Y-yeah. If you’re ready for that.”
“I am if you are.”
“I can pick up dinner,” you tell her. “I should be out of here by 5:30, and then I can head over to grab some food before coming home.”
“There’s…” she counts in her head. “eight of us.”
“Eight?”
“Somehow Mr. J wormed himself into this get together,” Melissa laughs softly. “Something about getting the band back together- whatever the hell that means. 
Once you’re free from work, you head over to one of the nicer restaurants in the city, and because you and Melissa have become frequent flyers there, they’re able to oblige your request for a few trays of food. You leave a generous tip before packing the food into your car and making your way back to your townhouse. 
Upon pulling in, you take a few deep breaths before gathering your briefcase and the food and making your way to the door.
When you push it open, all eyes are on you.
“Hey,” you sigh as you kick off your shoes and head for the kitchen table to put down all the food.
“Melissa, you didn’t tell us you have a roommate, never mind a hot one!” Ava grins.
The redhead just rolls her eyes before glaring. That glare is gone though once you make your way back into the living room and sit down next to your girlfriend.
“Hey babe,” you smile at her before kissing her cheek softly.
“Babe?” Barbara’s eyes go wide. “Melissa Ann, do you have a girlfriend?”
The redhead just smirks. “Oh, did I not mention that I am happily in a relationship and have been for two and a half years?”
“Wait a minute,” Mr. Johnson furrows his brows and looks you over. “Ain’t you one of those fancy lawyers that works at the firm down the street from Abbott?”
You nod. “Hi. I’m Y/N.” You cordially shake everybody’s hand with a kind smile.
“Wait,” Janine pieces it all together. “Is this why you moved and could afford this place? Why your meals have gotten a lot fancier, and how you could afford the clothes you wore to the dinner the other night?”
Melissa just nods. “I guess you could say… I won the lottery with this one.”
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld
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satoruin · 3 months
Text
➣ matchmaking or meddling?
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pairing: satoru gojo x gn!reader
word count: 1.6K
summary: you find out just how much your students have been meddling in your love life, though you can’t really be mad.
notes from lee: i’m afraid to make this look like an award acceptance speech so ill be brief. had to make a fic for the namesake of the blog and a very late hbd to boo (@2018-01-20). kinda wish i had more interactions with the kids, but i ended up w/ a lot of gojo pov also unedited
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Looking back it should have been obvious what these kids of yours were up to. Yes, they were the reason you were in this god-forsaken closet with a blindfolded fool.
You’re only really aware of their meddling now as you hear their snickers from the hallway, so you can’t quite tell when their meddling started. But it makes sense that they were plotting something, but was it in collaboration with Satoru? Because it seemed like every mishap or coincidence between your two classes, Satoru took it in stride and turned it into his advantage. Just like he was taking advantage of the situation now…
Thinking back, your first clue should have been with the sticky notes. A note scrawled on a pink sticky note, in actually legible handwriting, addressed to you like a valentine. Reading, “from: Satoru ;D to: (y/n) <3; do you look this good every day or do i just not remove my blindfold enough????” It’s on top of a stack of papers handed over by the ever-stoic Fushiguro. Surely to get your guard down, and it did.
When you interrogate your fellow teacher about it later, he keeps his normal all-knowing grin plastered on his face. Now they, being the kids who orchestrated it, don’t need to do any work as every day after that there’s a new sticky note somewhere for you to see. They vary in color, most in some shade of pink, some with bad pick-up lines, others with a stick figure drawing, or the very rare ones hidden away with words that make you spit out your drink.
Or maybe another tip off should have been the ‘coincidental’ times you’d have the second years out on the training field and he just so happened to also plan a demonstration for the first years at the same time. But then again you don’t hear their snickering above your irritation at the white-haired man as he lets you jab a finger into his chest, with his annoying smirk.
But they notice you don’t care anymore that he peeks his head over your shoulder to look at your teaching outline just so he can do the ‘coincidental’ planning now.
And still the biggest hint that you fall for every time, is when they leave you at the cafe with just Satoru after begging for a weekend meetup. And again, when they ask to have team dinners, study sessions, or extra training, it's ridiculous. Your gullibility and trust in them is commendable, but it’s become laughable as you still trust in the kids to show up. And they do, just in disguise from across wherever you are as they watch Satoru come to your rescue every time.
Maybe the more ridiculous part is when the rare glimpse of their teacher’s eyes is pointed, peeking through their poorly crafted disguises, at them from across the room with a smirk.
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He’s noticed for a while now that the kids are playing matchmaker, and their skills are much better than those his clan hires. And to be honest, he doesn’t mind, if anything he finds it cute that they think he needs the help. Though admittedly they do have some good ideas. Each one never fails to fluster you, in your own cute and angry way, as he takes over their schemes. His six-eyes catch the flurry of texts sent every time he does so, which he’s sure just encourages them further.
Satoru’s not quite sure when his feelings for you developed. He’s always found you attractive, especially when you were his cute kouhai (he still likes to call you that in order to annoy you until you begrudgingly call him senpai once again.). Everything he learns about you only adds to his initial interest. He’s a sucker for getting to know the little things, like your favorite dinner spot after a tough mission or what your ideal day off is. Once you accept his feelings he’ll put the knowledge you deem useless to good work.
But there’s a moment that sits so starkly in his memory as the first time he realized he was in love with you and not just intrigued or infatuated.
It was maybe around the time Tsumiki had gotten sick and though Megumi was self sufficient, Satoru didn’t feel that he should be alone. He knows he’s not the best at comfort, hell he could barely comfort himself, so he sends you.
And he’s not overly worried about you, you’re a teacher so he’s sure you’ll get through to the ever prickly Megumi just fine. Plus you’ve always been significantly better at handling emotional situations, he knows first hand. So when he comes to check on you after finishing his mission, he smiles at your success.
Megumi’s head rests on your lap, asleep, and you’re slumped over the armrest. There’s a twang of jealousy that pricks at his mind, wishing it was him in your lap instead, but all he can think about is having you greet him as he comes home and Megumi and Tsumiki sitting for dinner and that would be yours and his alone.
He’s never felt like someone that would settle down or want a family, especially given the circumstances of his status. But you, in this moment, make him want to move past the shrewdness of the higher ups and his clan, and just have you. He longs for something that is just his, not part of Jujutsu Society, the higher ups, or his clan, or even Satoru Gojo, he wants things just for Satoru, just for him.
You are that something, that someone, he wants, he’s convinced that he needs you like the air he breathes. The weird surge of emotions that have been kept bottled up since a dark day suddenly seems to make sense and it has a name, it’s love.
So when he’s reminiscing on his feelings, it really has been there all along, but it’s that very specific moment in which his love for you was defined.
And the apex of all his work in gently guiding you to realize your feelings, that he’s very sure are there, is in a closet of all places. His blue eyes glow dimly in the dark of the closet with the snickers of his students on the other side.
“Hey,” he breathes out, much less confident than he intended, but you make him nervous.
You meet his bright eyes briefly before looking away and returning the greeting, “Um, hi.”
His breath hitches and his mind blanks, every funny line or flirty remark he could make right now is gone. He can’t think about anything other than you, how cute your expression is, how good your hair looks even slightly messed up, but mainly your lips and how much he needs to kiss you before he leaves this cramped closet. “How are you?”
You blink at him incredulously, “We’re in a closet, Gojo. How do you think I am?”
He tosses his head back and groans as you use his last name, he thought he’d gotten you to call him Satoru like pretty much everyone did. “C’mon (Y/n), you know I hate when you call me that.” He whines and pouts, jutting his bottom lip out like a toddler.
He watches the guilt flash across your face briefly, surely it’s you remembering how he confided in you about hating the weight that came with his last name. “Sorry, I know. I know,” you pause and he senses your hesitancy and waits, “Satoru.”
He’s got a big shit-eating grin on his face that differs from his usual smirk as he rocks on his feet with his heart fluttering.
“You really like it that much when I call you ‘Satoru’?” You ask, eyeing up his body language with a skeptical look.
“Maybe.” He answers in a sing-song tone, he’s back to his usual self, “But you know what I’d like more?”
He leans in close and glances down at your lips. No matter how many times he does this, it always results in him pulling away with a teasing smile. So when he feels your hands wrap around the neck of his uniform and pull him closer, it’s certainly a surprise.
“You want a kiss?” You ask and he nods meekly, if possible, and you do, you kiss him. Satoru’s eyes flutter shut as his heart flutters in his stomach. His big hands reach up to cup your face and keep you glued to his lips. Gods, it’s everything he’s dreamed about and more.
When you part from him to catch your breath, he’s smiling. “I hope you know I want much more than a kiss.” He waits for you to breathe and to watch your reaction before smashing his lips onto yours again.
Satoru feels your arms wrapped around his neck and how your hands crawl through his undercut to tug at his hair. And he’s similar, the hands once holding your face have traced down your body to your hips so he can hold you close.
The knock on the door cuts your time short, your tongues and bodies having to part. Satoru watches as you smooth over your clothes and hair before he pulls up his blindfold. The door opens not a moment later to reveal the two classes waiting with bated breath to see something scandalous.
They are disappointed, fortunately for you and your image as a teacher. None of the students have the time to catch the heavy blush on his face as he slips away while you lecture them. But they do notice how flustered you are when you get a text from Satoru, “dinner 2nite?”
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mockingjaysinging · 5 months
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I Miss You, I'm Sorry
Coriolanus Snow x Reader
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Summary: Snow shows up in your room months after leaving you.
Word Count: 3.3k
Warnings: Some plot, smut (badly written smut), OOC Snow, no use of y/n, not proof read.
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51672160
A/N: Yes I know Snow is a terrible person but Tom Blyth is hot. Also do send in suggestions.
I found it hard to accept what lay before my eyes. 
Shaking my head vigorously, I prayed that the scene unfolding in front of me was a mere figment of my exhausted imagination. 
Despite rubbing my eyes intensely, causing white spots to dance across my vision, the unsettling sight remained unchanged. 
A figure stood at the edge of my bed. Initially obscured by the dimness of the room, the moon's glow, seeping through my open curtains, gradually revealed the mysterious silhouette.
Assisted by the moon's gentle illumination, I caught a glimpse of his face. Even though half of it lingered in shadow, I instantly recognized him.
He's really here.
My lips parted, ready to voice the question that had haunted me for months. Yet, as I attempted to speak, my mouth turned dry, leaving the unspoken query lingering in the air—for now.
Instead, I gazed at him, my eyes fixed in anticipation, waiting, hoping for him to break the silence. But he remained as still as I was. I couldn't discern how much time slipped by; it might have been mere seconds, although it wouldn't surprise me if it had stretched into hours. That's how it always is with him—time warps, racing by in moments, swiftly moving forward—much like him.
Becoming weary of the silence, I muster the courage to speak up.
"Why are you here?" My question emerges strained, not as composed as I had intended.
There is a pause as he remains silent for a moment longer.
For the first time since I roused from sleep, he stirs, moving with a quiet but confident demeanor. The sound of his footsteps echoes loudly in my previously silent room.
Drawing closer, he's now just a few feet away from me. I sit upright in bed, extending my arm to the nightstand and switching on the soft, pale pink lamp. Bathed in its gentle glow, I can finally see him entirely; the darkness no longer conceals the features of his striking face.
His luscious golden-silver locks retain the beloved curls I've grown accustomed to, and his icy blue eyes pierce into mine with unwavering intensity. Patiently, I anticipate any utterance from him, yet he remains silent.
Becoming increasingly impatient, I exhale audibly, fixing him with as intense a gaze as I can muster. "Why are you here, Snow?" I notice a flicker of annoyance in his eyes at the use of his last name.
Observing him as he turns away, his gaze fixed out my window, looking out into the Capital.
"My parents will be back soon—" I start, Father and Mother had departed for a gala tonight. I could have joined them, but upon learning that Coriolanus Snow would attend, I couldn't bear the thought of seeing him. And now, here he is in my room—how ironic that turned out to be. 
"Why didn't you come?" His sudden question catches me off guard, his blue eyes remained focused on the view outside.
I scoff in response. Finally, I muster the resolve to leave my bed, pushing the white covers aside. Standing squarely in front of him, I retort, "You've got some nerve, Snow."
He turns his gaze from the window to meet my eyes, his expression unreadable. There's a tense pause, the air thick with unspoken words hanging between us.
"I needed to talk to you," he finally admits, his voice soft yet carrying a hint of urgency.
"Talk to me? After everything?" I retort, incredulous. "You ended our relationship right after your Victor won and then vanished, and now you show up here uninvited?"
"I know," he murmurs, his gaze dropping momentarily before locking back onto mine. "But I had to see you. It couldn't wait any longer."
The sincerity in his voice causes a pang of conflicting emotions within me. Anger, hurt, and a trace of longing collide, making it hard to process his sudden appearance and apology.
"See me? For what?" I ask, my voice a mix of defiance and curiosity.
His hesitation is clear for me to see. "There's something you need to know. Something about that night—"
My mind races back to the last time we were together, the events clouded in confusion and heartache. His presence now, reopening old wounds, stirs a whirlwind of emotions.
"I'm not sure I want to hear anything from you," I admit, the hurt from the past resurfacing as a protective barrier.
"Please, just hear me out," he implores, his eyes pleading for understanding.
As much as I want to resist, a part of me yearns for closure, for answers to the questions that have lingered for too long. Reluctantly, I nod, signaling for him to continue.
He takes in a deep breath, as if fortifying himself for what he's about to disclose. I notice the tension in his shoulders, a stark contrast to the composed exterior he usually projects.
"That night—" His voice falters for a moment, "It wasn't what you think. I didn't want things to happen the way they did,"
I remain silent, listening, though skepticism clouds my thoughts. His words feel like a distant echo, stirring emotions I've tried to bury.
"There were circumstances... pressures I couldn't explain," he continues, his tone laced with regret. "I made mistakes, things I wish I could undo,"
A surge of frustration rises within me. "Mistakes? That's what you call it?" My voice wavers, a blend of anger and disbelief. "You vanished without a word. Left me wondering what I did wrong,"
He meets my gaze, his eyes reflecting desperation. "It was never about you. I needed to protect—"
"Protect?" I interrupt, a bitter laugh escaping me. "You don't get to play the protector now, Snow. You were the one who—"
"I know," he interjects, his voice raw with emotion. "I messed up. But please, let me explain."
His plea hangs in the air. Part of me wants to shut him out, to shield myself from the vulnerability his presence brings. Yet, another part longs for clarity.
"Fine," I relent, my voice quieter, resignation seeping in. "Explain,"
"I never wanted to leave you," he confesses, his voice filled with remorse. "But I got into trouble, a situation I couldn't avoid. It was about the Games, about Lucy Grey,”
My brows furrow in confusion. "Lucy Grey? What does she have to do with this?"
"I... I cheated," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I manipulated the Games to ensure Lucy Grey's victory,"
The revelation hangs heavy in the air, shattering my understanding of the situation. The shock of his confession sends a jolt through me, leaving me speechless.
"Highbottom found out," he continues, his words laden with guilt. "He punished me for it. Threatened my future,"
I struggle to comprehend the enormity of his admission. The person I thought I knew feels like a stranger now, the truth unraveling before me.
"You cheated?" I repeat, my voice trembling with a mix of hurt and disbelief. Coriolanus had always been such a rule follower. 
"I did," he confirms, his gaze fixed on the ground, unable to meet my eyes. "I was desperate, foolish. It was a mistake I can't undo."
"You left because of this?" I manage to voice, struggling to process the reality before me.
"Yes and no," he began, his voice tinged with hesitation. "Highbottom's punishment was for me to become a Peacekeeper. I left for District 12 right after I saw you that night," he confessed.
"You were in District 12?" I gasped, my hands reaching out involuntarily, grasping onto his. "I always knew Highbottom disliked you, but to send you to where those savages live..."
Coriolanus gently cupped my face. "I'm okay now," he assured me.
"Who else is aware of this?" I inquired.
"Tigris and Grandma'am," he responded.
"But I asked them about where you were—"
"I asked them not to tell you," he admitted. "I didn't want you to know where I was,"
We both stood silent.
"I missed you," Coriolanus confessed softly as he drew me closer, resting his forehead against mine.
"Why didn't you come see me sooner, then?" I inquired, a mix of confusion and longing in my voice.
"I wasn't sure if you'd still want me," he admitted, his voice laced with vulnerability. "I didn't know if you'd forgive me for everything,"
My heart ached at his words, the sincerity in his eyes breaking down the walls I had built. The torrent of emotions swirling within me made it hard to discern whether to pull away or embrace him tighter.
"I thought you didn't care," I whispered, the hurt seeping through my words.
"I cared more than anything," he murmured, his grip tightening as if afraid I might slip away. "But I was afraid of losing you for good,"
His words hung in the air and a wave of emotion surged within me. The longing, the hurt, and the desire for closure battled with the undeniable connection I still felt for him. In that moment, logic and reason faded away, and I yielded to the overwhelming pull of emotions.
Closing the gap between us, I closed my eyes and let instinct guide me. Our lips met in a tender, hesitant kiss, each movement slow and tender, a perfect balance between passion and restraint. My body trembled in anticipation and I pulled him closer, my arms wrapped around his neck as my fingers tangled into his hair.
He wrapped his arms around my waist and I felt the warmth emanating from his body, igniting sparks between us.
His tongue traced over my bottom lip and I eagerly parted my mouth allowing his entry. He took control, deepening the kiss and caressing every inch of my lips with his, causing shivers to run down my spine. A rush of sensation swept through me as we continued to explore each other's mouths, relishing in the feel of one another's warm bodies pressed tightly against each other.
The touch of his fingers against my hips brought chills to my skin and caused a burning fire to ignite beneath my flesh. His kisses became bolder and more forceful. As I moaned softly, he slipped his hand underneath the hem of my sweater and pressed a gentle palm across my lower abdomen, eliciting a sharp gasp from me. He continued his assault, moving his thumb along the side of my stomach toward the center of my breast. 
My breath hitched as I arched against his touch, seeking his warmth. Unable to hold it in any longer, I buried my fingers in his light silken hair and tugged slightly. He paused briefly, his eyes locked on mine, their golden flecks shining brilliantly with lust.
I began pulling him towards my bed, wanting nothing more than to be in his arms again, and finally rid the torment plaguing my dreams of being abandoned by someone whom I trusted.
He followed my lead, his lips meeting mine once again and our kiss intensified until neither of us dared to breathe. We fell unconsciously onto my bed, my legs entwined beneath his, his body pressing against my own, his lips devouring mine, stealing my strength and senses.
"I missed you," he muttered against my lips, his hands tracing the curves of my body, his fingers grasping the hem of my sweater before pulling it off of me with ease, my nipples were already hardened by earlier touch and the cool air. 
He placed soft kisses on my cheek and jawline and trailed down to my neck, his breath hot against my skin, making me shudder with pleasure. I reached out to trace my fingertips down his collarbone, relishing the sight of his strong biceps flexed beneath his dress shirt, the muscles taut, straining against the fabric.
His hand traveled further southward until it was firmly positioned against the curve of my breast, his thumb tracing the sensitive point.
I let out a choked moan, arching into his hand as he palmed my left breast, his touch driving waves of pleasure throughout my body. He continued to massage my nipple and gently squeezed the tight muscle. I moaned, arching upwards into his grasp, enjoying the sensation.
As I struggled to catch my breath, he stopped massaging my breast and moved his arm upward, running his fingers up my neck. When he reached the back of my earlobe, he nibbled the sensitive spot and sucked on it slightly.
I shivered at the unexpected action. His teeth grazed the delicate skin and an electrifying sensation coursed through my body. His tongue swirled around the lobe, sending shivers throughout my limbs.
A groan erupted from my chest and I gripped his shoulders, digging my nails into his flesh, trying to convey my need to experience more of him. He responded by taking both my wrists and pinning them above my head, his fingers sliding slowly down my forearm, brushing against the skin below the crook of my elbow. My breathing grew shallow as a rush of anticipation shot through me. He continued the path downward, until the tips of his fingers brushed against my hipbones.
Without warning, his hand retreated away and he moved himself out of my grasp, pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor. Then, he leaned forward, capturing my lips in another heated kiss.
His hands slid down my body, grazing the soft material of my pants as they moved lower, his touch causing me to squirm beneath him. With one swift movement, he ripped off my pants and tossed them aside.
"Coryo," I breathed out. He looked at me with hunger, bending over me and pressing his lips on my chest. My fingers ran through his hair and I tilted my head back in ecstasy. 
 His tongue danced across my skin, sucking and licking at the sensitive area as he pushed against me, his clothed erection nudging the apex of my thighs.
"Coriolanus," I whimpered, my hips bucking upwards. His name seemed to have ignited something inside of me. Something primal, primitive. Something powerful.  Something dangerous.
With a low growl, he pulled away suddenly and stood up, his large frame towering over me.
He undid the buttons of his trousers, throwing them and his boxers to the side. Once he was fully naked, he climbed back on top of me and stared intently into my eyes as he positioned himself over me. 
"Please take me," I pleaded, arching my hips, needing more.
His gaze hardened as his mouth settled on the base of my neck, trailing wet kisses down the length of my throat.
His hands roamed across my torso, before traveling further down and stopping at the waistband of my panties. His thumb stroked the inside of my thigh and I tensed at the contact.
His fingers worked faster, tugging my panties off and leaving me completely exposed.  Without another word, he lowered himself, his cock rubbing against my core for a moment before he repositioned himself. I gasped as my entire body shuddered at the sensation.
"Coriolanus," I uttered. I could feel myself growing wetter and wetter as my need became stronger. He slid a finger inside me, and a moan escaped me lips, the sensations of his penetration setting my body ablaze.
Another finger circled my clit causing a bolt of lightning to flash inside me. I moaned loudly.
"Shh," he whispered huskily as he inserted another finger and started thrusting, his movements fast and hard. My body writhed under him desperately trying to meet his rhythm.
"Please don't stop," I begged.
"Never," he murmured, pressing a kiss against my collarbone, his hot breath fanning across my skin.
"Make love to me," I whispered, clutching his muscular shoulders as the tension mounted inside of me. 
"I will," he said. He slammed his fingers deeper into me, moving in a hurried pace.
As his movements increased in intensity, so did my body, and my orgasm rushed through me with such ferocity that my entire body shuddered with intense pleasure.
"Oh, Coriolanus," I cried out, arching into his touch and gripping the sheets beneath me.
His lips found mine again, and I couldn't help but lose myself in him. His kisses filled my mind with images and feelings. I had never imagined anything like this happening, or even thought about what would happen when he touched me again.
But now he was here in the Capital again. 
He waited for my high to subside, "Do you still want to?" he asked, his blue eyes staring into mine.
I nodded with a small smile, "I'll always want to,"
He let out a smile before repositioning himself between my legs, pushing his shaft against the crease of my thighs, stretching my aching pussy open for him. He rubbed his tip across the sensitive entrance of my core. The heat of his touch instantly spread throughout my body. My breath hitched at the overwhelming feeling.
He slowly sank inside me, filling me, his movements slow and steady. My breathing was ragged, my heart pounding against my ribcage, as the familiar yet unfamiliar feeling of his full member inside of me began to set in. 
His fingers stroked along my thighs, teasing my most sensitive area, making me tremble with desire. His pace quickened and I felt the familiar tingling begin to spread throughout my body as he continued to stroke my inner walls.
Every single nerve ending in my body flared to life. I arched beneath him, my breath catching in my throat at the sudden intensity.
He lifted his head to look at me again, the look of lust still visible on his face.  It was almost as if we had never parted.
Before long, he began increasing his speed, plunging himself deep into me, the movement sending jolts of pleasure throughout my body.  It was impossible to think when he was doing this. His fingers continued to rub the sensitive area between my legs, his strokes creating an electric current flowing through me which only heightened my arousal.  
The tingly sensation had grown increasingly worse by the second, but the excitement surrounding every thrust drove me closer and closer to my release, the climax rising within me with each successive pulse of his body against mine. As if he knew exactly what to do, I heard him moan lowly. His eyes widened and a fierce expression appeared on his face as he pumped harder and harder into me, his eyes focused solely on mine. His movements accelerated and his thrusts got progressively harsher. 
The tension built between us. A loud moan escaped my lips as my eyes rolled back into my skull, his thick cock buried deep within me, my muscles tightening around it as the pleasurable feeling intensified.
I screamed his name. I didn't know how much longer I could handle being surrounded by his scent, his touch, his presence, without exploding. I needed to come. Now.
I pulled him closer. He quickly followed suit, burying himself even further inside me, his balls smacking against me. The pressure caused me to gasp and shudder. He took that opportunity to thrust forcefully into me.
The sound of our bodies slamming together echoed through the room as he came into me, his body jerking violently with each convulsion. "Fuck," he moaned.
My legs quivered, the vibrations running through my body giving way to a wave of pleasure sweeping through me.  My body shook. I tried to keep myself from shaking as waves of intense satisfaction crashed through my body, washing over me with the force of an unstoppable force as I came too. 
When I finally stopped trembling, he slowly removed his shaft from me, laying on top of me, holding me in his arms, as he pressed his forehead against mine.
"I love you, Coriolanus." I said with a smile on my face 
He said nothing as he pulled me into another kiss.
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Oh, you wanna play psycho killer? (Ghostface! Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader x Ghostface! Peter B Parker) Part 1
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RAAAAA! Excited about this one! Based off this post. Inspired by this drawing from Andalusia_Lu on Tiktok. Not proofread. Tbh I’m kinda nervous about this one but…Enjoy! Also in this story MJ and Peter are just friends. This is probably the darkest think I’ve written.
(Y/N) - Your name.
NSFW!!, Cursing, use of alcohol, death, murder, yandere behavior, Reader has a bf who does die, violence, blood, said reader’s bf calls her derogatory remarks behind her back, religious imagery(I think???), stalking, male masturbation, invasion of privacy, reader being drugged, panty stealing, stalking, implied kidnapping, gore, cameras being placed in readers home without their knowledge, it’s a horror one shot so… you know what you’re walking into. Dead Dove Do not eat, MDNI!
Word count: 2.5k
Part 2
Masterlist
October 31st, Halloween night. Also know as the night that gives college students an excuse to get fucked up while in a shit quality costume that cost 50 bucks at spirit Halloween.
That little rule you are not exempt from, that’s how you found yourself in a random college frat party at NYU, a bottle of beer in one hand, and your boyfriend’s in the other as you drag him through the crowd so you both can dance. The alcohol in your system made your whole body relaxed and your cheeks glow with a dash of red over them, your eyes half-lidded and your smile wide as you looked up at Daniel while Promiscuous from Nelly Furtado blasted through the house. You looked like an angel straight from heaven, although that might be due to your customer, being dressed up as Juliet from the 1996 movie, while your boyfriend was clattered in armor as Romeo. The costumes being your idea after having rewatched the movie a few weeks ago.
You both had lost the rest of your group in the crowd, Jess and MJ had said they were going to the kitchen while Miguel and Peter had said they were going outside to get fresh air but you haven’t seen them since, you wouldn't have extremely worried, if it wasn’t for the reason sightings of the ghostface killer that had been popping up on the news though. Sure maybe going to a party wasn’t the best idea either but you figured you would have been fine since you were going in a group, I mean, what wouldn’t you be okay? It’s not like an actual serial killer goes after a group of young adults who are all drunk right? But now you’ve lost 4 out of 6 people in said group. But maybe in the small chance you do get targeted, you should be able to stand a chance since your Daniel was always in the gym with Miguel, so he was pretty jacked (not as jacked as Miguel though but you’ll never say that out loud).
One song turned to two then to three, just like the beers in Daniel’s hand, you had slowed down so you could at least be sober enough to order a Lyft for when the night was over. Eventually you were whisked away from your boyfriend by MJ and Jess, thankful that they were still at the party and nothing happened to them.
“Hey, have you guys seen Peter or Miguel?” You shouted over the music after a while, Jess just shrugged, before MJ answered.
“They texted me that they found Daniel and he’s like, fucked up apparently.”
“Please!”
Stab.
“I don’t want to die! Please stop!”
Stab.
“I’ll give anything! Just don’t kill me!”
The begs and pleads become more desperate and sloppy with every second, the words slurring more together from the alcohol and the crimson red liquid dribbling out of Daniel's mouth. The sight was almost enough to make the two men feel pity. Almost.
“Anything?” The shorter one asked with an agonizingly slow head tilt, his voice altered from the voice changer attached to the plastic mask, signaling for the other to stop plugging the knife into their victim’s stomach. Despite not liking being told what to do, he dropped Daniel on the floor with a snarl. Daniel quickly retracted into a small ball, shaking arms going to cover his bloody wound with a groan and whimper.
“We want (Y/N).” If it weren't for him being in excruciating pain and bleeding out, Daniel would have thought they were joking, but the tone in which the words were spoken made his blood that was spilling out from his stomach and mouth run cold.
“W-what?” He asked as he tried to keep his breathing from becoming shallow and his head from becoming too dizzy, but he was failing miserably.
“You heard us. We. Want. (Y/N).” The larger one spoke this time. How badly, he wanted to emphasize each word with another stab, the knife in his hands twitched a bit as he tightened his grip on the black handle. He was itching for an excuse, but he’ll refrain.
For now.
Maybe it was the way he responded to a stressful situation, or maybe it was the lack of blood finally affecting his brain, but Daniel had the nerve to laugh. Fucking laugh. The laugh was breathy, and in between coughs and groans, causing Miguel and Peter to look at their prey like he was the crazy one. Rage filled their bodies when Daniel finally composed himself enough to talk again.
“Y-you can’t be serious? …Right? You-you’re gonna kill-kill me over some bitch?”
How fucking dare he.
How dare he speak about you like you were some random skank, like you were a pile of dirt. You were a fucking goddess, Miguel and Peter knew that, because they worshipped you like one. They didn’t see what you saw in Daniel, he didn’t deserve you, no one did, except Miguel and Peter, they would treat you better than any other man that roamed this stupid planet, and especially far better then the sorry excuse of a boyfriend that they had on the ground like he was a wounded animal.
For someone who was about to die, he sure had a lot of nerve.
He didn’t love you like they did, he didn’t know your every move like they did. They were like your real life guardian angels, always following behind you to make sure no one would harm so much as a hair on your pretty little head, and how lucky were they, that you were juuust oblivious enough that you don’t notice them, just enough to brush of your rummaged trash as raccoons, just enough that you didn’t noticed when a pair or two of your dirty panties go missing, you had too many to keep track of all of them anyways. Never knowing that one of the two would sneak into your apartment while you were asleep to grab them from your hamper, no matter which boy had decided to embark on their mission, both of them had to fight against the struggle to not stay and watch you sleep, fighting the urge to release their painful hard members and stroke while watching you sleep. They’d be lying to themselves if they said they haven’t lost the battle at least once before, biting into their free hand to stop any moans from escaping and waking you up, while they fist fuck their cocks with the other, but can you blame them?
They just loved you so much and you loved them too, you just haven’t realized it yet. How could you when that pest of a boyfriend of yours was pumping your head full of false thoughts? He didn’t love you like Peter and Miguel did. Sure Daniel might seem like he loved you so much, going as far as to get you flowers and gifts from time to time, but Miguel and Peter’s gifts they would give you were so much better, because these gifts were all given to you with the same purpose. To help them watch over you, make sure you were safe, strategically planning to make sure to eventually fill your entire home with cameras right under your adorable nose. The teddy bear that sits on your bed and the light up mirror over your bathroom sink were first of course.
Peter couldn’t help himself, with all of his force, he kicked Daniel right in the balls, causing him to curl up more in pain. Miguel was going to do the same when his phone pinged in his pocket, he quickly took it out and checked it, your name filling his screen made his heart skip a beat.
“It’s (Y/N). She’s asking where we are, and wants us to meet her at her apartment after she drops off Jess and MJ in 15 minutes.” Miguel mumbled as he looked down at his phone, before looking up at Peter then down at their prey on the ground. “She probably thinks we’re still with him, what should we do with him?”
Peter’s eyes followed Miguel’s gaze down to the half- conscious Daniel, silent as if thinking about what to say, or more likely what to do with him.
“We could leave him here for dead?” Peter suggested, but Miguel shook his head at the thought, too risky, they couldn’t have the chance of him being found by someone and taken to the hospital, that could ruin everything.
“You both… ar-are fucking psychotic! Killing me over some-some bitch who doesn’t eve-even give good fucking… fucking head!” Daniel yelled between coughs, more blood falling from his blue-turning lips, he looked like he had seen a ghost due to how pale he was becoming from the blood lost, and now he’s gonna become one. Miguel’s phone buzzed again, this time you only sent a single question mark, looking down at his phone.
“I want you to know that if I wasn’t about to be late to see you, I would beat this guy bloody, for the way he talks about you.” Miguel said out loud as if you could actually hear him, as if you were actually here to hear how true those words were, but instead Miguel raised his knife with one hand and grabbed Daniel’s hair with the other. Enjoying the way the Dani’s eyes widened in fear, his weak arms flailed around as he tried to fight the larger man off of him, but it was no use. “Guess I’ll just have to cut straight to the point.” He said, the smirk evident threw his altered voice before putting his knife against Daniel’s throat and slashing it open. Watching whatever life that was left in him drain from his eyes.
Peter being the skilled photographer he was, took a selfie of the two with their slayed animal, now it’s time to go claim their trophy.
Something was off.
Like seriously off, ever since Peter and Miguel disappeared at the party neither of them had answered their phone, and as soon Dani disappeared neither had he. Maybe the party wasn’t the best idea in retrospect, you let out a sigh as you entered your apartment, and collapsed on your couch, wanting to try and calm your racing thoughts a bit before you changed out of your costume. Closing your eyes, and taking in a deep breath.
Your phone started to ring.
Usually, you didn’t answer calls from people who weren’t already in your contacts, so the “blocked number” would normally set off red flags, but maybe the alcohol was still making your brain foggy, because without thinking you answer the call and put your phone to your ear.
“Hello?”
No answer.
You left out a huff and tried again.
“Hellooo?”
When you didn’t get an answer again you rolled your eyes.
“I think you got the wrong numb-“
“Wanna play a game?”
“I’m-I’m sorry?”
“I said, wanna play a game?”
“Um no thanks. I'm hanging up now.”
“Hang up and you won’t get to see your special surprise though.” Oddly enough, you grew a bit curious.
“Wha..what do I have to do?” You asked.
“It’s simple, We’re gonna play a small game of hot and cold.” You had a feeling this wasn’t a good idea, maybe you shouldn’t answer the call. “Right now you’re cold.”
Without another word, you slowly got up, and made your way down the hall, your floorboard creaking underneath your heels.
“Warmer.”
Your heart begins to beat in your ears, you bring a shaky hand up to the doorknob of your bathroom, you go to open the door when the voice from the other end of the phone spoke again.
“Colder.”
You quickly bring your hand back down to your side and let your heavy footsteps make your way into your bedroom.
“Hotter.”
You swallowed the thick lump of saliva down your throat as you made your way to the left side room, your eyes dead set on your closet.
“Hotter.”
You closed the gap between you and the closet, and brought your hand to the handle, mentally preparing yourself for whatever hides before the wooden doors.
“You're on fucking fire baby.”
Your hand drew back the door, the sight made you let out a blood curdling scream, almost dropping your phone in the process. Your Daniel, dead, sitting on the closet floor, gutted out like a fish. The voice on the other end of the phone let out a sly chuckle before speaking once again.
“Sorry about your boyfriend, guess all those muscles didn’t help much.” He mocked before the call went dead, and you finally released your phone, it falling to the floor, as your body began to shake and your breathing became rapid.
You let out a sob and began to stumble away from the mangled corpse that you once called your boyfriend, only for your back to meet with a what felt like a wall of muscle, you quickly look up over your shoulder, being met with the infamous ghostface mask that has been plastered all over the news.
“What’s the matter (Y/N)? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” The altered voice taunted. No, no, no,no. This cannot be happening. You shook your head as another sob left your lips stumbling away from the masked killer and into the hallway, expecting him to follow after you, but instead he just watched you. If you were thinking straight. You’d probably realized that this was a trap, but you weren’t thinking straight, as you finally reached the front door, you went to unlock the door and leave your apartment, but before you even stepped foot out of the door a large hand came and grabbed you around your waist. You take in a deep breath and open your mouth to scream, but instead a white cloth came and covered your nose and mouth, the strong smell of chemicals quickly filling your lungs.
“Surprised (Y/N).” This voice was a bit deeper, then the one from your bedroom, your head became dizzy as you eyes fluttered, your vision was beginning to blacken, before you were fully go under, you saw the man holding you still was a lot larger than the other one, it clicked, there were two of them.
You black out.
“She out?” Peter asked Miguel as he slipped off his mask, Miguel following suit.
“Like a light.” Miguel smirks as he goes to pick you up bridal style, your body limply laying in his arms. The two couldn’t help but smile as they watched your sleeping form, so peaceful looking, like an Angel. Their angel. Their plan played out just as they wanted, you were theirs now, and theirs alone. No one could come in the way of you three anymore, all they had to do now was make sure you wouldn’t leave them. But how would you do that if you didn’t know where you were? You couldn’t. That’s why Miguel gently placed you in the backseat of Peter’s car, before getting into the passenger’s seat. They were going to make sure you were far, far away from your old life, so you could start your new one with your lovesick killers.
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itsbeeble · 6 months
Note
I saw your post about having Bang Chan brain rot and honestly, same. He has filled every waking thought I've had for the last year and I'm big mad over it.
So my fic rec is a little angsty/suggestive with him being as obsessed with y/n as we all are with him. Like, he's angry that he can't focus on work because he's too busy thinking about them but can't have them for whatever reason. All the features he possesses that we love that he can't see in himself are exactly what draws him to y/n. (I feel like crushing on Chan is an exercise in learning to love yourself, and that's a lesson he needs to learn as well).
WHY WOULD YOU SAY THIS TO ME I LITERALLY FELL TO THE FLOOR WHEN I FIRST SAW IT (that first statement is so real actually)
OBSESSIVE
Summary: Chan has always been obsessed with you, but he's been too afraid to act on it until now.
Genre: Angst, fluff
Pairing: bestfriend!Bang Chan x (implied)fem!reader
Warnings: a little angsty but mostly fluff, hurt/comfort, suggestive, some uhhh sexual themes but there's no actual smut or anything, small make out scene teehee, swearing, insecurities briefly mentioned, I think that's it
WC: 2462
18+ MDNI, AGELESS BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED
A/N: guys look it didn't take me 10 years to post! Also i'm gonna add to my masterlist a "Brainrot" section bc i'm not officially gonna write for certain groups but fuck do i get brainrot
~
Chan is restless in his studio, staring at the walls in front of him unable to focus. He can’t get his brain to work, to think, to do something. 
It’s your fault. He knows it’s your fault, but he can’t figure out why. Had you said something to him? Had you done something? 
No. The answer is no, you hadn’t done anything to him. At least not technically. 
In fact, it’s more him that's the problem.
It’s almost unhealthy the way he’s obsessed with you. Unhealthy and almost annoying considering that you hardly ever give him the light of day. 
Chan adores you. Adores the way you don’t care about what anyone else thinks of you, the way you laugh too loudly, the way your nose crinkles when you smile, and the way you can hold conversations so easily. He adores the way you never seem to care about looking put together, dressing in whatever you find comfortable that day, and somehow still looking beautiful. 
He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this way about anyone before. He hates the swirling in his stomach, the way his heart beats faster, and the way he can always tell when you’re close to him whether you want him to know or not. Chan can always tell from the smell of your perfume, that sweet, subtle scent you’ve worn since the day you met him in your days as trainees. 
These emotions…he shouldn’t be feeling them. Not about you, his best friend. His confidant. The one person he can trust to always be there for him, for everything. He’s tried so hard to will these emotions away, to force himself to like other people. He’s tried hookups, blind dates, dating apps. He’s tried imagining it was his grandmother instead of you whenever his thoughts dive into dangerous territory. 
And no, the grandmother thoughts didn’t work. His thoughts kept returning to you, how you would look under him. How you would look with your hair splayed out, your hand cupping his cheeks, and your lips sending him the sweet smile that you seem to reserve for him.
Fuck, he’s doing it again.
Chan takes a deep breath, sipping at the day-old water and grimacing at the stale taste in his mouth. His computer screen is still blank, the screen off from the time he’s spent staring into space and thinking of you. 
A knock on the door and then you’re slipping in quietly with a plastic go-cup filled with iced coffee. 
“Hey.”
Your greeting is simple, but you flash that smile and Chan’s heart starts doing flips. He hates it. He hates that you make him feel this way, hates that he gets nervous whenever you’re around. 
He feels you at his side, your arm on the back of his chair, fingertips brushing against his shoulder and sending jolts of electricity down his spine. He turns his head, angling his neck to look up at you. 
You with your calm eyes, with your gentle brushes against his skin, and the way you somehow soothe the storm that you caused inside of him. 
The cup in your hand is angled toward him, and he shakes his head.
“You shouldn’t be drinking that, you know,” it’s almost instinctive how he scolds you, a frown on his face when you just roll your eyes and pull the cup away from him. “Especially right now. You should be asleep, Y/N.” 
“So should you,” you hum, rolling your shoulders back and wincing when something cracks. 
“I’m working.” He nods his head at the computer, and you raise an eyebrow at the black screen.
“I can see that. Working very hard, just like you always are.”
Your hand raises to his head, ruffling the soft strands of hair. Chan clicks his tongue and pulls away from you. Your hand drops down to your side, and your small drops slightly. Barely noticeable, but enough for Chan to feel a pang in his chest. He rolls his chair back slightly, spinning it to face you. You pull a chair up, sitting directly across from him, and delicately place your coffee in an empty space on his crowded desk. 
Chan feels your knees brush against his, and heat scorches his body again. Why do you do this to him? Is it on purpose? Do you know he loves you more than a best friend should?
“Are you okay, Channie?” You lean toward him, the open part of your button-down shirt dipping to expose more skin. You would think he’s never been around a woman before.
He clears his throat, tries to look at you, and then clears his throat again. You’re biting at your lip now your eyebrows furrowed together in thought. 
He leans away from you when you lean toward him. Your knees are between his thighs now, unbeknownst to you but he is all too aware of it. You rise from your chair, coming closer to him and standing between his legs. One of his hands twitches, fighting to raise just a little bit to touch the side of your leg. 
“You seem a little feverish,” your hand is cold against his skin, and he almost chokes on the air he’d been struggling to inhale without the sweet scent of you overpowering his lungs and making him do unthinkable things. Your lips are twisted into a pout, your hand moving to his forehead and then his cheek. 
It takes Chan a moment to realize that he’s grabbed your wrist. 
It takes another moment for him to realize that his lips are against the back of your hand. 
Another moment and you haven’t pushed him away. Is it shock? Are you too disgusted to do anything? Fuck, why did he have to do that?
“Y/N—” he’s stumbling over his words, trying to grasp any thought that runs through his brain. An apology, hopefully. “I’m so— I didn’t mean—” 
Your lips are on his before he can say another word. It was a quick, fleeting kiss. Heat of the moment, maybe. 
You pull back, just far enough to look him in the eyes. 
Chan opens his mouth, ready to speak again.
The door slams shut. The space you stood in is empty. Chan’s heart sinks to his stomach, his skin still warm where you touched him.
“Fuck”
~
It’s three days before Chan hears from or sees you. Three days of absolute radio silence. No one forcing him to stop working, to look away from the screen and lay on the couch for a while. No wild laughter, random coffee dates. Nothing, and he knows why.
He knows you’ve been avoiding him. It’s not that difficult to figure it out. Whatever happened that night…it scared both of you. What frustrates him isn’t the subtle rejection. No, he could never be mad at you for that. He loves you too much to be angry about that. 
No, he’s mad about the fact that you’re running from this. You who regularly gets into heated arguments with the staff when they’re working him and the other members too hard. You who always accepts when you’re in the wrong, actively seeking a solution. You who has never had problems with communicating your emotions. He’s angry that the one time he needs you to communicate with him, you disappear. Now, after three days of you avoiding him, he isn’t quite sure he wants to see you anymore. He wouldn’t have minded if you told him you hated him for what happened.
Radio silence is…quite possibly the last thing he expected.
A knock on his door jolts him out of his thoughts. Three raps, then two, and the door opens. He knows it’s you by the shuffling of your feet against the ground and the sound of ice against plastic. You come to stand near him. Not next to him, no, it’s like you can sense the anger in him.
Or you can hear the angry typing. 
“What are you working on?” Your voice is quiet, so quiet that he almost doesn’t catch it. 
He doesn’t respond, at least not at first. The typing doesn’t slow, and he hears a small exhale from you. 
“Chan?” Your hand comes to rest on his shoulder and the typing stops. You drop your hand to your side, biting your tongue and forcing the tears back. “Channie, can you please talk to me?” He turns to look at you, trying to hold back all of the emotions he’s been feeling these past three days. 
“About what?” He plays dumb. Maybe if he acts like nothing happened, you’ll just drop it and you can start avoiding each other and he can move on from you. 
“About…about what happened.” Your voice shakes, and he almost feels bad. 
Scratch that, he does feel bad. 
“I don’t think there’s much to talk about.” Chan dismisses, “You made it clear how you feel and that’s fine. We can forget about it.” He avoids your gaze now, but he hears a sniffle coming from you. Hears a sob that you made a poor attempt at concealing. He looks at you again, and your hand is over your mouth while you try to calm yourself. He bites the side of his tongue, closing his eyes and exhaling heavily. 
“Come here,” he raises his hand and lazily beckons you over to him. You don’t move at first, still focused on calming yourself. “Y/N, come here.” 
Your steps are slow, almost nervous about approaching him, and suddenly all the anger is washed away from Chan’s body. All he can think about is the fact that he’s made you cry, made you upset, and he wants to fix it. 
“Why are you crying, pretty?” You’re standing in front of him, all too similarly to three days ago. Your cup has been placed to the side again, next to his keyboard, and your hands are in his. 
“I feel like…” your voice is thick with emotion, tears rolling down your cheeks that Chan wants nothing more than to kiss away. “I feel like I messed everything up.”
“How could you possibly think that?” Your best friend frowns. 
“I— I kissed you.” Your sentences are stuttered. “I fe—feel like I me—messed everyth—everything up. You— You’re my bes—best friend, Channie.” 
“Look at me,” he holds his hand to your chin, tilting your head to look down at him. “You did nothing wrong. In case you forgot, I kissed you first.”
“But that was diffe—different!” You cry, yanking your hands out of his grip and turning your back on him. Chan rises from his chair, carefully watching your movements. “I kissed you!” 
He’s curious now. “Do you think I hate you because of that?” 
You turn around, and a gasp escapes you. He’s only a few inches from you, his breath kissing your cheeks. You can see a dark tinge on his tanned skin. Was he blushing? Was he mad? 
“I— I mean—” Chan steps toward you again, practically backing you into the wall.
“Because you’d be wrong,” he continues. “In fact, it’s probably made me even worse.” 
What? “Chan— what does that—”
“I’ve been obsessed with you from the day that I met you, Y/N.” Here goes nothing. Chan takes a deep breath before continuing. “Everything you do, everything you say. I’m addicted to you. You know, I couldn’t tell at first if I envied you. It was the way you carried yourself, the confidence you had in every little thing. The way you fought so hard for the things that you loved and the people you cared about. I thought I envied the way you could laugh as loud as you wanted without fearing what other people thought of you.” 
You’re against the wall now, but he hasn’t caged you in. No, he leaves you room to escape should you so choose. Your tears have stopped and Chan reaches up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the streaks that were left. 
“I was wrong.” His voice is so quiet, so much quieter than he probably intended it to be, but it has a zoo erupting in your stomach. “It wasn’t envy.”
“Then what was it?” Your voice matches his in volume, your eyes flicking from his lips and back up to meet his gaze. He takes a deep breath, relishing in the feeling of your cold hands twisting into the fabric of his shirt, your knuckles brushing against the skin of his stomach. “Channie?” 
The way you said his name should’ve been innocent. It should have just grabbed his attention, snapped him out of the spell you’ve cast on him. 
The air is knocked out of your chest at the first touch of his lips on yours. It isn’t rough, not by any means. 
His lips move smoothly against yours, slow and sure of every move he wants to make as if he’s always going to be two steps ahead of you. One of his hands slides down to cup the back of your head, right at the base to allow him to angle your head and pull your body closer to his. Your hands have tightened into his cotton t-shirt, holding so tightly you’re positive the fabric has stretched. 
Your chest is on fire, whether from lack of breath or the emotions running through you like wildfire, you aren’t sure, but you don’t want to stop. You can’t stop. Not when he tastes so good, not when he’s kissing you like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing. 
A whine escapes you, and you feel his body go rigid. His lips stop moving, and he pulls back from you. You see his chest stuttering as he tries to stop himself from taking deep breaths. He doesn’t say anything, and neither do you for a long time. 
You don’t have to, though. The drawings he traces into your hip with his finger and the hazy, starstruck look in his eye says enough.
His eyes meet yours when you clear your throat to get his attention. 
“So,” your voice is slightly hoarse but you can’t find yourself caring. Not in front of Chan. “You never answered my question.” He bends down, his lips lightly pressing into the skin of your neck. Your breathing hitches, and you feel him smile against you. 
“What question was that?” He asks, and his voice is right in your ear, and you can’t help but pull him closer to you.
“What was it that you felt?” 
He just laughs against you, finally taking his hand out of your hair. 
“You know what it was, pretty. Don’t pretend.”
You smile, your arm coming to wrap around the back of his neck. 
Love. It was love, and you knew it the whole time.
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prythianpages · 5 months
Text
Stuck on You | Part Two
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cassian x reader | Cassian can't seem to forget about you since the night you met seven years ago. he thought he would never see you again but when he does, he's determined to make you his. this time for good.
“Don’t worry. She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know, I read her diary.”
[part one] [part two] [part three] [edit/sneak peak] [part four] [final part] [solstice bonus]
A/N: you finally get to see the line above in this part! I also used writing prompts from @dumplingsjinson to help me with some of the dialogue. you can find the original post here.
Warnings: fluff, some angst, mentions of death
**
“Y/N?”
You spun around, eyes widening in surprise and recognition. “Cassian,” you whispered, your heart dancing erratically within your chest as you took in the sight of him.
“You remembered my name.” A warm grin spread across his face at the sound of his name coming from your pretty lips. 
"How could I ever forget?" you remarked with a gleam in your eye and your words left him blushing, the memory of the night you two spent together surfacing vividly, even after all these years.
His presence was powerful and imposing, just as you remembered. Towering over you, his tall and muscular frame overwhelmed your senses, accompanied by the intoxicating scent of cedar and balsam that clung to him. His warm amber eyes lingered on you, a silent exploration that traced the contours of your figure as if he were undressing you with his eyes before lifting to meet your gaze once more.
You couldn’t shake the disbelief that gripped you. You thought you’d never see him again.
“Cassian?”  A small voice interrupted, pulling your gazes away from each other and back to the young girl. “I’ve never met you before.”
Cassian studied her. She could only be a couple of years old, no older than a decade. A fact that set the gears in his mind into motion. Could she be–
“Cassian is–is an old friend of mine.” You swiftly explained to the young girl. “Cassian, this is Seraphine. My sister.”
The blood returned to Cassian’s face as a small wave of relief washed over him. Sister. This little girl was your sister, not his long-lost secret child. There was a glimmer of amusement in your eyes when you caught the look on his face.
“Can you be my friend too?” Seraphine pleaded with her eyes. Her tiny hands grasped onto Cassian’s larger hand and she urged him to take the seat next to her. He looked at you and you could only send him an apologetic look, gesturing with your hands to take a seat as well, mouthing at him that your little sister didn’t have many friends. He felt a tug in his heart at your revelation so with a kind smile, he took the seat next to Seraphine.
“Of course.” Cassian replied. “What is it that you were drawing earlier?”
Seraphine squealed in excitement as she pulled out her notebook, showing him the pegasus she had been drawing. Cassian bit back his laugh as he took in the drawing that had a delightful charm, one only kids can bring to their creations.
You heard your name being called out again and when you turned your head, you saw that one of your tables was in need of more ale. You shifted your weight from one foot to another as you contemplated. The tavern was small enough that even when your sister would sit alone, you could still keep a watchful eye on her. You knew your sister would be in safe company with Cassian, but you could sense that he wanted to talk. Over what you had no clue but you were itching to know too.
“Are you hungry?” You asked and before he could respond, you simply nodded your head as you decided for him. “Let me bring you something to eat as well. I’ll be right back.”
Cassian watched as you disappeared behind a worn counter. You returned to the table but only for a brief moment as you placed a plate of warm food in front of him and then you were running off to attend to other tables, pouring out drinks and smiles with ease. 
A smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. 
He couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about you. He only knew you for one night but that had been enough to know the spark you carried. Yet, the spark that had drawn him in seemed dimmed now and you carried yourself as if burdened by a weight he couldn’t quite discern.
“You’re staring.”
Cassian startled. He had forgotten all about the young girl beside him. “Sorry.” 
Seraphine giggled and she grinned as she looked up at her new friend. “You like my sister.”
His own lips curled up into a shameless grin. “Yes, I do.”
“Will you marry her?”
“Maybe,” Cassian replied with a shrug of his shoulders.
 He did like you. 
One of his biggest regrets was not asking you to stay with him. After your bodies were spent from the immense amount of pleasure you drew out from one another, he had cuddled you against him with the pretense of keeping you warm but in reality, he just wanted to hold you longer. You had laughed as you plucked a leaf from his hair. The two of you had spent the rest of the night talking and he had already planned to take you out for a nice breakfast in Velaris once the restaurants would open. However, at the break of dawn, you had insisted you had to leave and you were running off before he could ask where to find you again.
He did look for you, though. He begged Azriel to help him find you but he had only been able to track down the friend you had arrived at the bonfire with. She was the one who had given him the unfortunate news that you had left Windhaven with your mother, not knowing where you had gone to.
“Papa liked my mama so he married her.” Seraphine said, her voice growing quiet. He failed to notice the quiver of her lip. “He liked her a lot, said it’s why they had me…but mama got attacked and then he died…y/n won’t get hurt will she? You won’t die, will you?”
Seraphine’s eyes lined with silver and she began to cry. 
Cassian frowned and turned to her, his hand wiping away at her tears with an ache in his chest at what her words insinuated. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay. No one is going to hurt y/n, not under my watch. And don’t worry about me, munchkin. I plan to live for a long time.”
Your head whipped at the sound of your sister crying. In an instant, you were at the table, dropping to your knees as you brought Seraphine into your embrace. Her tears dampened your shirt but you did not care. Your hand ran through her hair while the other rubbed against her back in a soothing manner, your own eyes brimming with tears and realization dawned on Cassian as to why your spark had dimmed.
**
“Come with me.”
“What?”
“Come with me.” Cassian repeated, following after you and helping you pick up the dirty plates scattered along the now empty tables as you prepared to close the tavern.
After Seraphine had settled with the help of some hot cocoa, Cassian had pulled you aside to talk, ignoring the wary look Azriel kept sending his way. They had stayed much longer than they had planned. Rhysand had already worriedly called into their minds, demanding to know why and for them to return. But Cassian refused to leave without knowing more about you and what had happened over the past seven years. 
 It was then when you explained everything, starting with the night you two spent together and why you had to leave so quickly after. You hadn’t planned to attend the bonfire celebration that night but it was your last night in Windhaven and you gave in to your friend’s request, deciding that you would finally let go and be free, have fun for once. No one would remember you, anyway, or so you had thought.
The very next morning you and your mother moved back to her home camp, Ironcrest, where she married an old friend of hers who promised to take care of not only her but you as well. Your mother had been treated poorly, shunned by Ironcrest, after falling victim to a high fae that had been visiting. She found out she was pregnant shortly after. It was already hard being a female in an Illyrian war camp and even more so being a single mother. The two of you moved from camp to camp, wherever your mother could find a job to sustain the both of you until you were old enough to help. You had only lived in Windhaven during the years of the war, which explained why Cassian had never seen you before the bonfire.
The man your mother had married was nice and kind, a stark contrast among the many Illyrian males at the camps. He was able to take care of her and you well with the help of his tavern and he was elated when he found out your mother was pregnant. He had hoped for a son, as most men do, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when he finally got to meet sweet little Seraphine. 
Your family had lived a quiet and peaceful life, doting over Seraphine who had brought you all such joy. That is, until, a drunken Illyrian male, who had remembered your mother from years before you were born, decided to attack her out of spite. Of course, your step-father had intervened. He had not been trained as a warrior like the drunk Illyrian male had but that didn’t deter him from fighting back until his very last breath.
You had been the one to find your murdered mother and step-father. You’d never forget the gruesome sight of their lifeless bodies or the immense anger that had cursed through your veins when the murderer was let go and freed, having convinced the council that he had acted upon honor. You were utterly and completely helpless as your mother’s body was not granted the same respected burial as your step father was.
It had been a couple of months since their deaths and in those months, you focused on taking care of Seraphine. You were grateful your step father had taken you under his wing and taught you about business here and there. It was what helped you run the tavern on your own. That and the false pretense that your step-father’s brother, the only living relative Seraphine had that neither of you have met, was overseeing the business.
You settled the last of the dirty dashes into the bin, deciding that you would take care of them the next morning. You leaned against the counter to face the persistent Illyrian male before you. He took this as his opportunity to approach you, bridging the distance between you.
“I can take care of you and Seraphine.” He was so close and when he leant down, your eyes fluttered shut momentarily at the warmth radiating from him, your body aching for more.
“Was I really that good? To have the Lord of Bloodshed remember me after all this time and offer to take care of me?”
There was humor in your tone and Cassian was smirking at you. So you had also done a little digging at him after your night with him. He caged you in with both his arms and wings. “I think about you and that pretty cunt of yours so often. Sometimes even when I’m with other females.” 
“You do?” You breathed in pleasant surprise, you had only meant to tease him. His words went straight to your core and you wanted nothing more than to give in to him, to feel him all over you.
Cassian felt a familiar cool caress–one of Azriel’s shadows–at the back of his neck and then it was yanking on his hair in warning. Reluctantly, he pulled away from you, catching the way you composed yourself. He would’ve loved to tease you about it and if he had time, he would’ve loved to show you the effect you had on him. Even after all these years.
“I’m being serious though. My offer is not driven by lust or any ulterior motive but as a friend.”
“Friend?”
“It’s what you called me earlier.” He replied, a note of gentle reproach in his tone. A wistful smile played on his lips. “And while I would like to be more than a friend, that sounds like a promising starting point.”
“I’m sorry, Cassian, but I don’t think I can.” You frowned, crossing your arms against your chest, as you fought the urge to say yes. “I just–I don’t know.”
While he promised to take care of your little sister too, it wasn’t that simple. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him, you could tell he meant well and his offer was genuine. Your reservation was heavily based on the variability of it all. This life, as miserable as it was, is all you knew and for the moment, it was keeping both you and your sister safe.
**
Seraphine squinted up at the towering Illyrian male, who you had left her with while you talked with Cassian. He claimed to be Cassian’s friend. “Azriel,” he had introduced himself and when her curious gaze followed his shadows, he added: “Shadowsinger.”
“You don’t look like a Shadowsinger.”
“I’m a special kind.” Azriel’s lips curved into the ghost of a smile. “What does a Shadowsinger look like to you?”
“I dunno know. A performer maybe?” Seraphine replied with a shrug of her shoulders, giggling when a shadow brushed across her shoulders in a playful manner. She then studied Azriel again, taking in the numerous weapons strapped to his body and the strength he carried. 
“Did you ever kill anyone?”
The hint of the smile dropped from Azriel’s face and he cleared his throat. “We’re getting out of subject here.”
“Alright Sera,” you nervously chided as you reappeared, Cassian trailing behind you. You rested one hand on your little sister’s shoulder while the other brushed against her cheek in a soft warning. You had heard snippets from their conversation and you were worried your sister’s curiosity had offended the Shadowsinger. “That’s enough questions.”
“It’s alright.” Azriel said, politely brushing off your concern. He then turned to his friend. “But we do have to go.”
Seraphine followed Azriel’s gaze and her lips curved into a pout. Slipping from your grasp, she ran to Cassian, tapping his leg to capture his attention. Cassian’s attention drifted back to the young girl and he crouched to be eye level with her, a fond smile gracing his lips.
“You’ll come visit us again, right?” Seraphine asked and with a sudden seriousness, she added: “Friends visit friends often. It’s a rule.”
“Sera–” You started.
“Of course I will.”
Cassian’s gaze locked with yours as he rose to his feet. He gave Seraphine a light pat to her head that had her giggling and then he was standing in front of you. You raised your brows  in surprise at him. You thought declining his offer would’ve put him off, so you were surprised he still wanted to see you.
His hand reached for yours and without breaking eye contact, he brought it up to his lips. A small gesture that sent warmth flooding through you--a promise that he would visit again.
“Don’t miss me too much, sweetheart.”
You were at a loss for words, your thoughts a tangled mess. A feeble nod was all you could manage before awkwardly clearing your throat, realizing the weight of what you had agreed to. Cassian must’ve sensed your inner turmoil because he was grinning down at you in response.
He would’ve stayed longer, lost in the moment, if it weren’t for Azriel. The Shadowsinger’s gaze bore into Cassian’s back, prompting him to hesitantly release your hand. He must’ve not been moving fast enough because Azriel was pulling him by the cuff of his leathers, sending a nod in farewell to you.
Even as Azriel guided Cassian out the door and you returned your attention to your little sister, Cassian’s gaze was stuck on you.
**
Cassian, true to his word, returned a couple of days later, bearing gifts. Flowers adorned with vibrant hues for you and a plush pegasus that resembled the strange but endearing drawing Seraphine had shown him the night they first met. Of course, your little sister was over the moon with him, beaming with delight as she ran around the tavern and clutched the pegasus to her chest.
He returned almost every other night, the two of you falling into a weekly routine with ease. There were times where his visits would be delayed but he always told you ahead of time.
On bustling evenings, he would keep Seraphine company at her table, often coloring and drawing with her. During the quieter tavern nights, the three of you would have dinner together. He would flirt with you shamelessly every time he could, keeping it age appropriate whenever Seraphine was within hearing range but on the moments he had you alone, the teasing words slipping from his lips were sinful. Flirting was new territory to him and he loved trying it with you, rejoicing in every reaction he drew from you.
 As the nights would wind down and you closed up the tavern, he would walk the both of you home. If Seraphine was sleepy, Cassian would scoop her up in his arms with a gentleness that melted your heart. On more spirited nights, she would ride atop his shoulders, giggles echoing through the dimly lit streets as her tiny wings spread and she pretended she was flying. Always, his free hand sought yours, and sometimes, you would let him intertwine his fingers with yours.
He was patient with you and you knew that if you had told him to stop, he would. Yet, deep down, you found that you didn’t want him to. You found a quiet pleasure in his presence, a sentiment that bloomed into something more just as the flowers he gifted you did with each shared moment.
**
The tavern was alive with the lively hum of laughter and clinking glasses as Cassian entered. His eyes quickly sought you out. You moved through the crowd with an effortless grace, your stubborn demeanor evident in the way you navigated the bustling tavern. His fists clenched when one of the males got handsy with you, his hand trailing too low on your back as you tended to his table and he fought the urge to teach the male a lesson when he saw your reaction. But then you were forcing a small smile on your face that didn't reach your eyes and laughing at what the male said with such practiced ease, it tore at his heart a little.
Cassian turned his head, unable to bear the sight any longer. If he did, he worried he'd lead his simmering temper take over and disrupt the lively atmosphere of the tavern.
He spotted Seraphine at her usual table. She was too engrossed in coloring one of the drawings before her, her small tongue peeking out and eyebrows furrowed to notice Cassian. Her pegasus plush, which she had named Scrump, was resting beside her coloring book.
**
When Cassian spotted you behind the bar, he decided to finally approach you. A charming smile playing on his lips as he rested his elbows on the counter and leant in toward you.
“Hello, Sweetheart.”
Your hand trembled slightly, flustered by his presence as you poured him a drink and you were grateful that there was a physical barrier between the two of you.  “Why is your face so close?”
Cassian didn’t miss a beat, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that had heat pooling in your stomach and heart fluttering. “Well, do you like it this close?” 
When you didn’t respond, Cassian continued. “You know what I just realized?”
“What?” You asked, deciding to entertain him while you handed him his drink.
His fingers brushed against yours, lingering for longer than needed as he took the drink from you. “How utterly adorable it is when you get flustered.”
You shot him a skeptical glance. “You did not just realize it.”
“No,” he grinned, bringing his drink to his lips. “But I wanted an excuse to point it out.”
“Cas Cas!”
Cassian pulled away at the joyous shout of his name and he turned around just in time to catch a beaming Seraphine into his arms. He spun her around playfully, a chuckle escaping him, and your heart felt a twist. As endearing as the gesture was, there was a lingering ache within you. It struck you that your little sister was forming an attachment to the Illyrian male, much like you were, and the uncertainty of it all left you feeling a sense of fear and vulnerability. The two of you had already lost so much.  
As the night unfolded, Cassian engaged you in lively banter, sharing stories that drew genuine laughter from you. He learned more about you. Your dreams, your favorite songs and the tales you held close to your heart. The stubborn walls you had built seemed to soften with every visit.
He walked you both home that night. Seraphine had chosen to skip ahead of you two, singing an Illyrian nursery rhyme but his hand like always, was wrapped around yours. When you had reached your doorstep, you unlocked the door for your sister, instructing her to prepare for bed and that you’d be there shortly.
The door was left slightly ajar, in case she needed you, as you leaned against the wooden wall beside it. You opened your mouth to bid Cassian farewell but found yourself at a loss for words as he leaned in. His hand released yours only to cage you into the wall behind you with hands splayed on either side of you. He leaned in, his voice a low whisper. “You know, I’m starting to think, maybe, just maybe, you’re falling for me too.”
A blush tinted your cheeks and you met his gaze. Your playful scoff couldn’t mask the truth in your eyes. There was a softness there that hadn’t been there before. “Maybe you’re not as insufferable as I thought.”
Cassian grinned, the realization of progress sweetening the air. He leant down further, his breath mingling with yours as his gaze flickered to your lips and then back to your eyes. Your  eyelids fluttered shut in anticipation but then the warmth grew farther and upon opening your eyes, you found him staring at you.
“What?”
“I just think it’s funny that even on your tiptoes, you still can’t reach me.”
You glared, not realizing that you had, in fact, been standing on your toes to reach his lips. In that charged moment, something sparked within you. Swiftly, you elbowed directly into his gut with ease and on instinct he leaned down with a groan, meeting your level once more. Seizing the opportunity, you captured his lips into a kiss and smiled when you felt him move his mouth against yours.
 His tongue swept along your bottom lip and you pulled away, a smug look on your face. “Who’s laughing now?”
“Come here, you,” he said, his voice a breathless whisper as he leant down once more. With the help of his hand on the back of your neck, he guided you close, his lips pressing against yours. This time, when he slid his tongue along your bottom lip, you didn’t pull away, choosing to allow him in instead, tentatively opening your heart to the possibility of love.
**
Cassian didn’t visit the following day or the day after that. It had been two whole weeks since his last visit, the night you two kissed. You wondered if you had scared him away. Maybe, he realized he didn’t like you after all, reducing all you two shared to nothing but physical attraction.
These thoughts did nothing to soothe you and you couldn’t help it when the pain that had been lingering deep within your chest resurfaced as you noticed Seraphine’s head lift in anticipation every time the door to the tavern was opening only to be met with disappointment.
Finally, almost a whole month later, Cassian appeared. His cheeks were flushed from the cold winter air. Seraphine did a double take, her eyes widening in a mixture of joy and disbelief as she recognized her friend. She ran up to him, the question she had been asking you every night tumbling from her lips. “Cassian, where have you been? I missed you! Scrumps missed you too!”
“I’m sorry, little one.” Cassian frowned, patting the back of her hair as she clung onto his leg. “I missed you, too.”
You approached the two, arms folded across your chest. There was a look in your eyes he couldn’t quite discern–apprehension, perhaps– and it filled him with unease. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a heads up, Sweetheart. Rhysand sent me on a mission and–”
“It’s okay. You don’t owe us an explanation,” you were interrupting, motioning for him to follow you to the table Seraphine sat at every night. Your voice was quiet, a low murmur, as your next words slipped out of your mouth. “You don’t owe us anything.”
But Cassian heard it–the weight in your words. That unspoken ache. The unease in his chest grew. He didn’t mean to hurt you.
The walls Cassian had once broken down were now back up and he hated the distance that had settled between you. 
Since the tavern was quiet and idle, the three of you had dinner together and he dedicated it all to you and your sister, wanting to know what he had missed. He discovered that Seraphine had lost a tooth, chuckling when she eagerly showed him the gap where her front tooth once resided and the amusing whistling sound she could now produce. Relief washed over him when, finally, you smiled at him again over something he had said. It led you back to your usual banter, offering a fleeting but welcomed respite from the awkward tension that had momentarily taken hold. 
You gradually allowed him back in, though this time, with a more guarded embrace.
“And what about you, my sweets?” Cassian’s attention was on you, wanting to know what you had been up to the past couple of weeks.
“It’s been quiet here without you.” You admitted, oblivious to the fact you hadn’t quite answered his question.
Cassian’s eyes brightened. “You missed me.”
You choked on your ale, bringing your hand to your chest. “I didn’t say that.” 
Cassian turned to Seraphine with a grin. “She just said she missed me, right?”
“Definitely.” Seraphine replied almost instantly, mirroring the curve of his lips with a toothy grin of her own.
“Traitor,” you playfully accused your sister with a roll of your eyes. She stuck her tongue out at you and you chuckled. Not wanting to dwell on your small confession for too long, you shifted to rise from your seat, deciding now was the perfect time to return to your duties.
Cassian’s hand sought out yours, gently halting you. “Hey, since you missed me so much, why don’t you go out with–”
“Cassian, I told you. I can’t. I–” Your voice hushed, gaze flickering to your little sister, who finished her dinner. Grateful that she was engrossed in conversation with Scrumps, her pegasus plush, you added, "I have a lot to deal with right now."
Before you could say anything more, or he could respond, the call from one of your tables beckoned you away. An apology reflected in your eyes as you left, and Cassian watched with a hint of longing as you attended to your duties.
"Don't worry," Seraphine's voice drew his attention away. He turned to the young girl, who munched on her food with an air of amusement in her eyes. "She likes your butt and fancy hair. I know. I read her diary."
“She thinks it's fancy?”
Cassian's hand instinctively reached up toward his hair, currently tied up in a loose bun. Her innocent words stirred a spark of hope within him. Although you were stubborn, he could sense that you wanted--you longed--for him too.
He would not give up on you, refusing to surrender the love that continued to bloom within his heart.
**
tag: @kemillyfreitas
a/n: i watched lilo & stitch while writing this part and Cobra bubbles lowkey gave me Azriel vibes so I couldn't help but incorporate that small scene of Lilo asking him if he ever killed anyone lol. the next part might be posted tomorrow, depending on how far I get along with my studies for the day. i plan to finish this series soon <3
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