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eddiesxangel · 5 months

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Redemption| Eddie Munson x Reader

Summary: Eddie is forced to work community hours for a petty crime at a retirement home; what he didn’t expect was the pretty girl at the front desk, you. This is so self-indulgent don't come for me

Word count: 3.8k

Cw: mutual pining, male masturbation, Perv!Eddie, Dom!Eddie/ Sub!reader, unprotected sex, corruption kink? breeding kink, sex at work. (Briefly proofread)

An: after 85 years I finally got around to finishing this! It’s not where I thought it would go originally bc it was just suppose to be a fluff piece but the horny gremlin took over

Boredom wasn't even a way to describe how you were feeling. The phones were dead, the day had been dragging on, and it was not even 12:00pm. The residents of the home were also not doing you any favours. Having to repeat yourself about six times in a row at the top of your lungs was starting to get old; your day had just not been going the way you wanted. Any other day, you'd be happy to help, happy to repeat yourself, but today was not one of those days. You were irritated and annoyed; your work bestie was off today, so you couldn't even complain to her about your shit day.

A sigh of relief fills you when the phone rings, a rare occasion, but today has been so slow you were begging for something to do.

"Sunny Acres Retirement Home! How may I help you?" your customer service voice was overly sweet, too sweet. However you can't seem to turn it off, being the people pleaser that you are.

"Jesus Christ'' You hear mumbled from the other end of the line.

"Hello? How can I help you?" you roll your eyes, having to repeat yourself, but keep up the chipper act.

"Yeah, listen, I was assigned to do community hours at this place, and I need to talk to a manager." Damn, this guy had an attitude.

"Yeah! Sure thing. Can I get your name, please?"

"Seriously?"

What the fuck crawled up this guy's ass?

"It's company policy, Sir." You rolled your eyes again, not wanting to deal with more bullshit.

"Eddie"

"One moment, Eddie, I'll transfer your call." You put him on hold and transferred him to the manager with a good luck warning.

The next day, you were in much better spirits; your work bestie was with you, it was casual Friday, and you were allowed to wear jeans instead of business casual attire.

It was around 1:00pm when you saw Chief Hopper walk in accompanied by someone you had not recognized.

"Hey Hopps," you greet him with a smile.

"Hey, you." He said with a smile.

You and Chief Hopper had a friendly relationship because you're close friends with his girlfriend's oldest, Jonathan.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Brought in another delinquent for you to roughhouse into shape" he steps out of the way.

Your giggle dies as you lock eyes with the prettiest boy you've ever seen.

"This is Edward; he is here to complete two hundred hours of community service, and he will be starting today."

"It's Eddie," you hear him mumble under his breath.

Oh so this is the jackass you spoke to on the phone yesterday... a really cute jackass.

He looked to be around your age, but you didn't recognize him. You'd only been in town since the second half of senior year, hating your parents for making your move to a new school so close to graduating. You have been in Hawkins six years now you're here working 9-5 as a receptionist at Sunny Acres Retirement Home.

"Nice to meet you, Eddie." You introduce yourself and proceed to call the manager to let her know he is here. Once Hopper leaves and your manager shows him around, you immediately call your best friend, Robin's, extension.

"Get over here now! We have a code, hottie," you whisper into the phone. Whenever you see a cute person enter the building, whether it be adult grandchildren, paramedics, or firefighters, you always let one another know when there is one on the premises. No less than two minutes later, she approaches your desk.

"Where are they?"

" There," you point to the dining room directly across from your desk as he is being given a tour of the building.

"Eddie Munson?!" she half yells before covering her mouth.

"You know him?" you ask excitedly.

"Know him? He's the town freak," she scoffs.

"I'm sure he is a freak, alright?" You wiggle your brows at her."

"I'm serious! He's bad news."

"Clearly, he is doing community service hours."

"Seriously? That is what you're into?" she giggles.

"I don't know? There is something about him?" You bite your lip as you check him out from afar. He turns back to walk towards you, and you quickly look away, not wanting to be caught.

You've always been into bad boys, but your golden retriever, good girl image, always scared them away.

Eddie notices you staring at him because you're not very subtle. He isn't mad that he caught you staring because he felt that you were checking him out rather than judging him. Unlike your co-worker standing beside you...

Just his luck, he recognized Robin from high school. She was always neutral towards him and didn't say much, but he knew how the people in this town operated. She would turn you against him in no time.

"Buckley." He nodded.

"Munson," she mimicked back.

You watched the scene play out, hoping she would introduce you. Wrong. She goes straight in for the kill.

"My friend thinks you're cute." She points her thumb at you, and you immediately slap her shoulder as a gut reaction.

"Robin?!" you scold her. Mortified about what she admitted to him just to break an awkward silence, you feel like you want the ground to swallow you whole.

Eddie gives you a cocky smirk before the manager comes back to continue with the tour.

"Why do you hate me? Did I do something? Are you punishing me?" you whine.

"You know I just blurt out things when I get uncomfortable!"

All you can do is roll your eyes, you loved the girl, but she could be really dense.

Eddie couldn't stop thinking about your brief interaction all night. Was Robin telling the truth? Did you really think he was cute? Or was she teasing? He hoped that she had grown up since high school and was telling the truth because he also thought you were cute, like really, really cute. He hadn't seen you before, and Hawkins was a small town; he must have known you from somewhere? He wraps his brain around any memories of your face, but he comes up empty. He had to find out more about you. He needed to know you. Something about you infatuated him so much. He thought about how your body looked in the adorable outfit you had on. He thought about what was under the outfit to... Maybe being forced to volunteer his time at Sunny Acres wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to him after all...

The next day, you were assigned to show Eddie some of the duties he was to do for the residents. Talk to them, run bingo, help them with their phone if the line was giving them any trouble, or their TV if they put in the wrong input, serve them beverages, and get to know them and keep them company. A lot of them don't have families or anyone to come visit them. The staff are their family. That was the main reason you stayed at this job for so long.

Eddie was quiet the whole orientation. The tension from yesterday was so thick you could cut it with a knife. Small talk was not your strong suit; you dreaded it, but you also really wanted to talk with Eddie, so you went for it.

"So what did they book you for? Steal candy from a kid on the playground?" trying to make light of the situation.

"Murder," he deadpans to you.

"Ha ha. Nice try. They don't give community hours to murderers." you couldn't keep your eyes on the task in front of you.

He was dead silent, but you could feel his eyes burning into you.

"Okay, don't tell me; I'll just keep guessing until you do." you gave a cheeky smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Another eye roll was shot your way, but you swore you saw a glint of something behind those eyes.

"So what was it? Trespassing? Vandalism? shoplifting? Public intoxication? Speeding?" you raise a brow at him.

Eddie just smirked and shook his head as you interrogated him. Your bubbly personality was nothing compared to his. He noticed how you would light up the room when you walked in. The residents of the home adored you, and he could see why. You were one of the prettiest girls he had ever seen; your eyes sparkled, and he loved how you styled yourself. He wasn't used to being so infatuated by someone so cutesy. He noticed you wore a lot of pink and has yet to see you in anything black. He thought of what you would look like with black underwear... then he snapped back out of his thoughts. He tried to think of something less sexy, but as he was trying to do so, your top slipped down when you went to reach for the deck of cards across from you. He caught a glimpse of the frilly light yellow bra you had on under your top.

Eddie noticed the room was getting hotter, or was that just him? You made him nervous; he didn't want to embarrass himself in front of you more than he already has. He felt shame that we had to be waltzed in here by the chief of police, never mind what offence he committed. So he stayed quiet, not wanting the next thing to come out of his mouth to be offensive or crass. So he kept quiet, not saying anything or indulging in the conversation more than he had to.

Another week went by, and you still hardly spoke to Eddie. Work was unbelievably slow yet again. you thought that would give you a chance to speak with Eddie, but you hardly had time to see him because the residents kept hogging him. That was until your manager asked for you to help with the Bingo because everyone decided to show up today. Eddie was in charge of rolling and placing, and you were in charge of announcing and checking.

This was it, this was your chance to speak to him...

"How do you like it here so far?"

"It's fine I guess." He mumbled.

"Everyone really loves you." You smiled.

Eddie gave you a look that said what the fuck?

“No really! … Do you not like it here?” What you were really asking was do you not like being around me?

"Don't you get it? How can I serve these snotty rich people when all they do is look down on someone like me?"

"Eddie, are you blind? The residents love you."

Eddie scoffs at your confession. "I'm serious! When you are gone, Pat always asks where you are! And Linda always refers to you as her boyfriend, and I overheard Martha and June arguing over who got to braid your hair next. You're a real ladies' man around here," You giggle.

"A ladies man you say?" his mood slowly changes as he smirks at you. That made you blush, the heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away bashfully. He was just so pretty… and the way he looked at you like how he is now is making you so shy.

"Yeah, I'm kinda jealous of Linda, if I'm honest." You flirt. You feel like your stomach was in your ass by the time you finished the sentence.

"What's the next number! come on!" Bob yelled from the table. You had completely forgotten about the game.

Small glances were stolen throughout the following weeks. You would feel the heat rise to your cheeks every time he caught you, and you couldn't tell if he found it endearing or annoying. You never got a response out of Eddie after your admission to being jealous over an eighty-three-year-old.

Eddie definitely thought it was endearing and he can't seem to get you out of his head. He would think about you when he was alone in his room at night. He would think about how you always smelled like marshmallows, how your hair looked so cute with the little bow you put in it occasionally, or how you tease him by wearing those short skirts with stockings underneath. He knew you were teasing him. Everyone else bought the Goodie Two Shoes act, but not Eddie. He saw right through it, and he was fed up. He felt like if he didn't have you, he would actually explode.

Eddie had been watching you from afar this whole time. He would sneak around your desk, finding things he could take home with him as a keepsake. Like little doodles you would leave out, or the pen you were using, or your lip balm. The best was when you left your purse out, and he got a chance to take the travel-size perfume that was lying there on top of everything. There was a reason he got booked for defacing public property and not theft. Theft he was good at.

Eddie sprayed his pillow with your perfume and then used your lip balm that smelled and tasted like strawberries, fuck, everything about you was so sweet: your personality, looks and smell, even your fucking lip balm. He thought about how his lips were touching the thing that touched yours as he applied it to his own, and his dick got hard. Then he thought about how your strawberry lips would look around his hard cock.

You were taking over Eddie's senses as he began to tug at his cock. He thought about how he would love to flip up your skirt and fucking you in one of the empty rooms. His imagination ran wild. He thought about your voice, how your tits would look bouncing in that frilly yellow bra he got a peek at. He wanted you in every position, especially under him. He knew you would be the perfect little sub for him. He needed you to be; he was so close to cumming. He thought about you crying from how much you needed his cock to fill you. He thought about how good you would look and feel swallowing his cock. He needed to take what he thought, no needed to believe, was your virgin pussy.

Eddie came so hard that night, the first night he indulged in his fantasies of you with your smell lingering in the air of his room. The mix of your sent with his was too much. He needed you, and he would do anything to try and get you.

"Ok, I can't take this anymore, you need to talk to him." Robin shook her head.

"And say what?"

"Yo Munson, come here!"

"Robin!" You scolded.

As Eddie approached, you felt your heart rate go up; you could hear the blood pumping in your ears. What on earth was she going to say now?

"Okay, I can't take watching you two dance around one another any longer." "She thinks you're cute. Okay..." Robin gestured to you. "Do you think she is cute?"

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just slowly nodded his head.

The tension broke when the shrill of phone ring broke you out of your trance and shook you a little. You just stared at the phone and Robin butted in.

“I’ll take it, you take your lunch” she gave you a wink and you looked to Eddie.

“I could eat.” and he wasn't talking about the chicken they were serving for lunch.

You felt your stomach do a flip-flip; you heard the insinuation in his tone.

"Um, uh- yeah. Okay." You cleared your throat and went to find an empty room for some privacy.

You guided Eddie up to the eighth floor. There were a lot of vacant rooms up there, and hardly anyone went in the west wing since no one was living there yet. The elevator ride up was silent; you felt an awkwardness, like Eddie was looking into your soul even though he wasn't even looking at you... The elevator dinged, and Eddie let you step out first, guiding him to the privacy he yearned for.

809 Eddie read on the door as you fumbled with the lock and key. Finally, you opened the lock and guided him inside. The room was completely empty; it echoed a little as your footsteps filled it.

"So..." You started but Eddie had no time for talking. He wanted you and he wanted you now.

Eddie surprised you by cupping your face and kissing you passionately. No one had ever kissed you like this before; it was strong and hard but also careful.

"You have no idea what you do to me, sweetheart." He spoke into your mouth. The kissing got more and more sensual. You ran your hands up his middle before you knew what was happening he quickly turned you around and pressed you up against the wall.

"You think it's cute? Teasing me for weeks with your sweet little outfits?" Eddie's hand was wrapped around your mouth to keep you quiet as his fingers explored you meat of your ass.

"Mmmmmph" You were so scared someone would find you in the empty suite, but it also turned you on more than expected.

"What was that sweetheart? I didn't quite catch that?" His fingers found the waistband of your stockings and pulled them and your panties down with one swift motion. His hand loosened its grip on your jaw so you could speak.

"N-no," You whimpered. This was turning you on way more than it should. You thought you would come up here to talk; maybe he would ask you out on a date. You never thought you would be fucking!

"I don't believe you."

You felt your skirt flipped up and a cool breeze on your wet pussy.

"Tell me, sweetheart, has anyone ever filled this pussy?" Eddie asked as he ran a single finger through your wet folds.

"Yes," You admit shakily. You gripped Eddie's wrist of the hand that was clamped around your throat.

Eddie can't say he was surprised that you’ve had men before him. You were beautiful, smart, funny, adorable. It's too bad you had to be with them before he got a taste.

"What a shame you've had to suffer through that before meeting me, babydoll."

"Why is that?" you ask bravely.

Eddie chuckled darkly... "Because baby, I'm about to ruin you for all men."

That made you gulp. You can't believe you were about to fuck your crush in the middle of the work day. You didn't do stuff like this! you were a good girl, a rule follower.

Before you could think anymore about the consequences, Eddie, he slipped his throbbing cock into your needy pussy.

"Holy fuck!" You screamed, and Eddie's hand clamped back down over your mouth to keep you quiet.

Just when Eddie didn't think you could get any hotter, the curse word you let slip from your mouth made his cock twitch inside of you.

"Fuck me, you stretch me out so good," You whine, and Eddie thinks he will bust a nut right then and there. His perfect little angel had the mouth of a whore.

"Yes, you like that, don't you, you dirty little slut." Eddie jerked his hips up into you. It was sharp and hard and hit that delicious spot inside you each time. “You wanna be my good girl? Or my bad girl?”

“Good- oh fuck- good girl. I want to be your good girl!”

“That shut the fuck up and take it like I know you can”

"oh my god, you're so big." Your eyes rolled back into your head as he became more controlled with his rhythm. His hands gripped your hip, and he wrapped his hand in your hair, yanking your head back like he was riding you.

The view Eddie had was your ass bounced off his cock was making his head spin. He knew you would hand a perfect pussy. It was his now and only his.

"This pussy is mine now, understand? Im going to fill this pussy so good you won't know what to do for days. The only thing you're going to be thinking of is me and my fat cock."

All you could do was moan in response. "Yea you like that you dirty little whore. You like that I own this pussy now…” Eddie slowed down, he rolled his hips slowly into your pussy and he swore he saw the light “You have everyone convinced you're a goodgirl but all you are is a cumslut. Tell me how much you want my cum coating your walls"

"I want it so bad!" you cried.

You've never had a dick like this before. Eddie was right, he's ruined you for all men and he hadn't even made you cum... yet. You had full faith that he was able to do so because you could feel it. The warm fuzzy feeling was bubbling up in your core. Eddie had picked up the pace at your omission, and fuck if he wasn’t hitting your g spot with each delicious stroke of his cock hitting your walls.

"Fuck I'm going to cum!" You scream, all caution thrown to the wind, you'd forgotten where you were. The only thing you could think of was Eddie and his delicious cock.

"Fuck yes, babydoll. Come on this cock." Eddie's hand let go of your hair and wrapped it around your throat, pulling you flush to his body.

"More" You whisper.

"Greedy greedy girl."

"Please" You begged. You needed him to touch you.

"There is my good girl." His hand that had gripped your hip slid down and started playing with your swollen clit and your legs almost gave out.

"Next time, I'm keeping my word, and I'm going to eat this pretty little pussy." Eddie growled.

That did it for you; your inner walls squeezed, and you felt your orgasm rush through you. Eddie trusted in you as your body convulsed around him.

"Fuck you're so fucking tight," Eddie grits through his teeth, and he fights off his impending orgasm. He doesn't want this moment to end, he wants it to last forever. What if this is the last chance he has to feel your pussy wrapped around him?

"Please, Eddie, I want your cum! I want your cum so fucking bad, my pussy needs it."

That did it for Eddie, he let go and his hot seed was being shot into you with a roar.

After minutes of silence and heavy breathing, Eddie bent down and pulled up your panties and stockings for you, trapping his cum with it. You turn slowly, afraid to look him in the eyes, but Eddie doesn't allow it. He brings your cin up, guiding your eyes to look into his.

"Don't shy away from me now, babydoll. You're going to go back down to the lobby and finish the rest of your work day knowing my cum is going to be seeping through your pretty little panties, ok?" He ordered, and you dumbly nodded your head, still fucked out by the amazing dick you just received.

"Good girl" Eddie patted your ass, and you walked to the elevator with wobbly legs. Eddie laughed and held you stand straight before letting go before you reached the first floor.

You returned from your break fifteen minutes later than allotted, but Robin covered for you. You couldn't even look her in the eyes, and she knew you got freaky with the freak of Hawkins.

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson smut #perv!eddie munson #perv!eddie x reader #perv!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #dom!eddie munson #dom!eddie Munson x reader #dom!eddie Munson x sub!reader #dom!eddie x reader

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astraystayyh · 1 month

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The snow falls, we fall apart.

summary: when heartbreak looms on your life, and winter becomes a time you loathe, hyunjin helps you rewrite your memories with the season, and with it, everything you once believed about love.

genre: producer student!hyunjin x reader. roommates!au. friends to lovers. acute descriptions of heartbreak and general sadness. slow burn. hurt/comfort. healing and hopeless romantic hyune. very inspired by long for you so lots of pining and yearning. (wc: 13k)

warnings: mentions of alcohol. it is implied that reader was in an a very toxic relationship but no details are shared.

a.n: happy birthday to my hyunjin, my muse, my light. thank you for being so full of love that it made me love love again in return. this is i think my most personal piece, and i hope it reminds those who need it that love should be soft and kind, that it shouldn’t hurt, that it should heal not break. i love you guys and i love you my xi, writing this collab with you has been a true honor <3 also!! please listen to long for you while reading :,)

winter falls masterlist.

You’ve only ever felt utter despair twice in your life.

First, when you were seven years old, playing hide and seek with your cousins at your grandma’s house. It was a warm summer afternoon, the air sweetened by pastries you devoured hours ago. You decided to hide in a wooden cabinet up in the attic, only to end up stuck there. The walls felt like they were closing in on you, the oxygen seeping away from the cracks underneath the door, leaving you deprived of air, of life.

Second, at twelve, when you've come to discover sorrow's new facet, clad in grief's heavy cloak. Your parents adopted a hamster for your birthday, but they did not know he had a terminal disease. You were distraught, to say the least, when you awoke to its still form, death claiming a frail heart unaware of its imminent fate.

And now, third, many many moons later, you are knocking on Hyunjin’s door a few minutes after midnight. It is cold out, tears tracing rivulets on your cheeks, your fingers tinted pink from roaming outside in the harsh winds, your heart much heavier than when you were a child. More grief-stricken, at your own hands, this time.

A disheveled Hyunjin opens the door, his blonde ash hair tousled and sticking upwards, a clear indication of the many times he had run his hands through it in fits of frustration. His gray hoodie zipped up hastily, revealing the silver cross necklace he was wearing, nestling perfectly against his honeyed skin.

You've always had an aversion to seeking comfort, saw it as revealing your deepest vulnerabilities to a world that isn't always kind. It was easier, much simpler to do so when you were a clueless child— when you sank in your cousin Lia's hold as she attempted to steady your breathing, when your mother cradled you in her lap after Pinky died.

It is much harder now, much more embarrassing because Hyunjin has never seen you this sad, never glimpsed your shadows that now swarm his doorstep, unannounced.

“What's wrong?” he quickly asks, eyes darting over your figure in a rapid search for visible wounds. He wouldn’t find any. All your injuries stem from within— blood doesn’t have to be spilled for your heart to weep.

You had rehearsed a lie as you walked up to his doorstep. You would say that your car broke down near his place and ask if you could stay over for the night. He would insist he could drive you to your place and you’d refuse, saying that it was too late and you did not wish to bother him. You’d sleep on the couch and slip away in the early hours of the morning.

Yet, it is the genuine worry etched in his eyes that dismantles the fortress you've hidden in, melts the lie in your throat, morphing it into a steel lump coiling in your throat. He looks concerned when all you’ve had directed towards you recently was anger. And you missed someone looking at you in care, not reproach.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” You admit, your voice shattered, fragments of your vocal cords scattered out in the wind like a broken mosaic, the sound of it scraping against your ears.

Blow one hurt. It felt like your body turned against you as it deprived you of oxygen. The sobs that escaped you once you perceived the light pained you, perhaps more than being confined in the darkness.

Blow two was even worse, it was your first time experiencing grief. It was too hard of a concept for your innocent heart to grasp, too complicated for you to find solace in anything as adults do.

You promised yourself that you’d reserve blow three for monumental agonies— big pains and big sorrows only. That’s how you managed to keep all your tears at bay for most of your life. Would they be worth losing your third sob for? No, you've always found the answer to be.

And in all the twisted scenarios you’ve conjured up in your mind, deaths and illnesses and the haunting tale of failure, you did not imagine that it would happen on Hwang Hyunjin’s doorstep. That you’d burst into sobs at the compassionate look in his gaze, and the sad smile he sent your way. As if he knew, as everyone did around you. That you had handed a knife to a serial killer and it was only a matter of time before he stabbed you in the heart.

Two weeks ago.

“I’m trying to understand you but you aren’t helping me,” Seungmin is frustrated as he paces relentlessly before you from left to right like a swinging pendulum. You sit on the couch, beholding only his shoes, avoiding his gaze that would reflect the truth you dare not confront.

“He’s sucking the life out of you, can’t you see that?”

You can, out of everyone that surrounds you, you can see it the most. You feel as if you are carrying a skin that isn’t your own, weighed down by a relationship that has taken everything from you. But admitting it is admitting that you were wrong, in trusting him, in loving him. You couldn’t bear it.

“We are fine!” you shout back, the defiance in your voice surprises even you. This is a familiar script with Seungmin, a recurring conversation spurred by your puffy eyes and diminishing appetite. He tells you, begs you to leave, but where could you go? How could you leave a home where you've shed all your treasured belongings at the door— your skin, your bones, your very self.

What place would welcome you now that you're stripped bare of your soul?

“When was the last time he made you smile, huh? All he does is hurt you, and you...” he chuckles incredulously, running his hand through his hair. “You are letting him.”

Deny, deny, deny.

“This isn’t true. He loves me,” the words taste foreign in your mouth like rusty metal dragging across your lips. A small voice whispers that love shouldn't feel like this, but you quiet it down.

“Are you hearing yourself? Yn, I…” he kneels before you, his hands resting comfortingly on your knees. This is Seungmin, your best friend of five years. You know he has your best interests at heart, you are even more sure of it when his voice softens, shakes slightly when he utters your name. “Yn, please. I’m trying to help you. Please.”

“I didn’t ask for your help,” you push away his hands, standing up. “I don’t want your help, and I don’t need it.”

You quickly leave Seungmin’s dorm, your heart heavier than when you entered it, foolishly hoping that he'd ignore your distressed state after yet another fight with your boyfriend. But Seungmin doesn't understand, no one around you does— you’ve gambled your heart, and you cannot stop drawing the cards, even in the face of losing strikes.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hyunjin offers you a cup of tea with a gentle smile and you grab the steaming drink from his hands. The smell of chamomile wraps around your senses, and your brain fizzles out for a second before the soothing aroma. But it is a fleeting respite, the tempest of your thoughts crashes back onto you with an unsettling force, causing you to almost drop the drink as your hands shake. You place it down the table without taking a sip.

“I’m sorry for coming unannounced,” you apologize, wincing at the intrusion, “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I always sleep late. Don’t worry about it,” he smiles, but you know it isn’t a genuine grin, because his eyes betray an unsubdued concern, refusing to morph into their usual moon crescents.

You’ve always thought that Hyunjin wears his emotions openly— when he laughed, he did so loudly, his boisterous giggles traveling around Seungmin’s dorm. When he hurt himself, everyone in the vicinity would know so from his loud yelps. And when something worried him, he would bite his lip, toying with the plush flesh to ease his nerves.

As he is doing now. Looking at you.

“We broke up,” you quickly say, and your words hang over you like a gloomy cloud. “But I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Do you want me to fight him? I’ll bring changbin too,” he suggests a serious tone underlying his playful offer, and it manages to tear a reluctant giggle out of you.

“Changbin doesn’t know me well enough to fight for me,” you counteract and he shakes his head. “He’ll fight for me, I'm his princess.”

“Are you now?” The giggle escapes your mouth less forcefully, and the smile that graces Hyunjin’s face is a genuine one.

“I am. My proposal stands,” he extends his hand and you wrap your fingers around his palm. “Thank you, I’ll keep it in mind,” you smile but he frowns, flipping your hand around in his hold.

“You are freezing,” he whispers, using his other palm to rub warmth into yours.

“It’s fine,” you lie, slipping your hand out of his grasp, not feeling deserving of his kindness.

Wordlessly, Hyunjin stands, walking into what you assume is his bedroom. You only know of his place because you dropped off Seungmin here some time ago. You are too exhausted to even drink in the interior.

“Here,” he returns, handing you a navy hoodie of his and black joggers. “This will keep you warm at night.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, hesitating for a few seconds before speaking again. “Can you please not tell Seungmin, I... I can't face him right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be awake still if you do need something.”

Hyunjin’s clothing is warm, although peeling away your own garments felt like shedding layers of your skin, as if the fabric melted into your very flesh, just like memories from the day did. You have never felt this worthless before, discarded like a forgotten leaf on the roadside, one he stepped on for his own enjoyment, leaving you crushed in his wake, unable to fly away again.

Hyunjin’s rose perfume wraps around you, and you find relief in sleeping somewhere where your, his, scent was no longer around. You foolishly hope that if you close your eyes hard enough, you’ll manage to convince yourself that you’re someone else, tonight. Someone who isn’t tethered to the heartache, someone who can slip away from the clutches of a love that hurts more than hate could ever manage to do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Heartbreak isn’t beautiful, no matter how eloquently you try to dress it in the syllables of poetry, no words can soften the burn in your lungs, the searing ache that courses through your very core, reminding you that deep within, down to the fundamentals of your being and the most basic alchemy that ties your atoms together— you are unlovable. Whether you cut your hair or allow it to grow, change your heart, or leave it as it has always been, you will remain so.

You don’t remember much of the past week, blurry fragments here and there that float in your mind like a distorted water reflection. There is little room for memories when you are busy trying to remember how to breathe— one inhale in, one exhale out. The simple concept seems harder when there are unkind hands permanently lodged into your heart, squeezing it tight.

What you do remember is telling Seungmin through text the next day, because you couldn’t bear the way his eyes would soften if you spoke to him in person. No signs of surprise cast on his figure, because he knew that it was long coming, a train with one final inevitable destination— you in shambles, him okay.

You remember Seungmin cradling you in his arms when he came to see you, and you trying desperately to keep the tears at bay— too focused on pinching your arm to let Seungmin’s warmth radiate through your being, Hyunjin lingering uncomfortably by the entrance of his living room.

You remember begging Seungmin to grab your belongings from the apartment you shared with your ex because you were unable to face him, him, and everything that your old place spelled out for you. Stand in the ruins of what you once thought would be your permanent home.

And now, you watch as Seungmin and Hyunjin bring suitcases full of your stuff into the latter’s place. And you feel like an outsider in your own body, standing at the corner of the room gazing at utter destruction, unable to stop it, unable to mend it. Seungmin quickly reassures you that you could crash in his and Minho’s place until you find a new one to live in, already taking out his laptop to search for new apartments for you.

But you did not care for it, your eyes zeroed in on the satin shirt peeking out of your suitcase. The one he bought you on your first month anniversary. Back when love felt like a gentle feather running down your spine, and not a dull knife slicing away at your skin.

“This place's expensive too,” Seungmin sighs, rubbing his temple warily. Your logical best friend could not fix your heartbreak but he took it to heart to alleviate your other troubles. You would thank him for it, later, when your tongue finds enough will to move.

“What if you move in with me?” Hyunjin suddenly says and his words filtrate through the fog in your mind easily, as if he rehearsed them enough times so they’d roll out smoothly out of his mouth. “I mean, Felix is away for the next year since he went back to Australia. And I was looking for a new roommate anyway.” He shrugs and Seungmin turns to look at you, his eyes convey the question his mouth doesn’t articulate— is it okay with you?

“I don’t…” your voice is croaked, so you clear your throat. “I don’t want you to do things out of pity.”

“I’m not. If I was, I would've told you to move in with me for free. I still need you to pay rent,” he raises his eyebrows, a playful tease and you smile in relief, nodding, “Okay, I will. thank you.”

Heartbreak is ugly and all-encompassing, weaving through the roots of your heart and infecting each organ with its insidious touch. It renders you immobile, incapable of performing the simplest tasks, burdened by a weight unseen by the world. But you try your best, your very best to contain it.

You smile at the cashier as she hands back your money only to wonder if her soft, well-manicured hands would too crush a soul without remorse. You go to all your classes without fail but your mind is elsewhere, contemplating why the sun filtering through the windows no longer warms your skin. Can nerve endings perish when subjected to too much pain? What's left of life when you can no longer feel the caress of the sun?

You watch a movie at Seungmin's dorm but your mind is elsewhere, fleeting to this morning and how you refused to stay in the shower for more than three minutes because your thoughts might become haunting ghosts tempting you to follow them. You brush your hair and spray your perfume, only because you have to, because you live with Hyunjin and you wouldn’t want your sadness to taint him too. You wonder how long you’ll have to bear it. You wonder if it’ll ever leave you or if the veins in your heart have molded themselves after the pain and they wouldn’t know how to accept happiness anymore.

You greet Hyunjin as he walks past you, shaking your head when he asks you if you want to eat dinner with him, quickly retracting back into your room. You have ten unread messages and a pile of growing laundry you need to do, but all you can muster is to gaze at the empty walls, mirroring the void within you. Your mom told you to call her again and you don’t know how you’ll speak to her without bursting into a sob, how you’ll tell her that all it took was one person to break you. Or maybe it was two people, your hands and his tearing apart your flesh and bones. Maybe that’s the worst part about it. So you don’t call her.

And you only ever emerge from your room when you need to, just like now because your water bottle is finished and you need to refill it. You go to open the kitchen door when you hear Hyunjin’s muted shatter, Felix’s distinctive deep voice coming out of the phone speaker.

“Next you add the melted butter and stir it,” Felix instructs, the sounds of pots and utensils clinking in the background. You fidget slightly, mustering the strength to paint a fake smile on your lips.

“What next?”

“Sift the dry ingredients then add them to your wet mixture,” Felix explains, met with a few seconds of silence. You can almost visualize Hyunjin's perplexed expression, blinking rapidly in confusion.

“Explain it to me like I’m five years old,” he requests, prompting a small smile to etch itself onto your face.

“How are you surviving without me?”

“I’m not please come home,” Hyunjin sounds horrified as Felix’s rich chuckles fill the air. “Why do you suddenly want to make brownies anyway?” he then asks.

You go to open the door when Hyunjin’s response catches you off guard.

“They’re for Yn.”

Hyunjin's words resonate in the air, causing a hitch in your throat and Felix’s teasing whistles simultaneously, but Hyunjin is quick to stop him. “No, no, no, it’s not like that. They’re just a bit down and I remember them loving your brownies. So…”

It takes you a fleeting moment to dig the memory out of your mind, a year ago, right before your ex came to pick you up from Seungmin’s dorm. You had a bite of Felix’s brownies, a surprised gasp escaping your lips at its delicious taste, back when food had taste and happiness came easily to you. It was an insignificant memory, you did not imagine Hyunjin, out of everyone, would remember it.

But he did, and he’s now pacing before your closed door, contemplating how he’ll convince you to finally eat something with him. He throws a thumbs-up in the air for no one but himself, inhaling deeply before knocking on your door.

“Hey,” he greets with a hopeful smile, his gaze meeting your tired form. He hesitates for a second, clearing his throat. “Brownies?” You remain unmoving and he falters, “Hm? Please?”

“Sure,” you nod and a wave of relief floods through Hyunjin as you step out of your room. His joy is short-lived when he takes the brownies out of the oven, only to find them thoroughly burnt.

His mouth hangs agape, and he walks back shamefully to the oven, lowering its door only to scream inside of it.

“This will be more therapeutic,” you say, pointing nonchalantly to the fridge and he agrees, opening its doors and yelling once again in the much larger space.

Your melodic laughter fills the kitchen, Hyunjin’s embarrassment is suddenly a forgotten memory.

“I’m craving kimbap. Should we get it instead?” you propose, a touch shyly and he quickly agrees, afraid you’d change your mind and walk back to your room where he can no longer ensure you are okay.

Hyunjin absentmindedly dances along to the music blasting through the convenience store when a girl sidles up to his side, a saccharine grin on her lips as she looks up at him, “hi,” she greets and his tentative smile mirrors hers. “Hey.”

“Are you single?” she asks, her gaze briefly fleeting to the window. “I think you are really cute.”

“I’m…” he glances at you but you're suddenly engrossed in the ingredients of the tuna kimbap you are holding, pretending not to listen. “I am but I’m not interested, thank you.”

“Oh, come on,” she places a hand on his arm and he physically recoils. “Give me your insta and we could talk.”

“No,” he repeats, grabbing her hand to remove it when a loud voice startles him. “Baby, what’s taking you so— What are you doing?” Hyunjin watches in horror as the girl’s eyes grow wide, before she scrambles to the man’s side, feigning fear.

“He kept hitting on me when I said I had a boyfriend, baby.”

“What?” both you and Hyunjin gasped in comical unison. He would find it amusing if not for the escalating anger radiating from the man, who looks like he spends all his days in the gym. Hyunjin suddenly regrets not working out with Changbin.

The man strides towards Hyunjin. “Do you want to die?”

“No? there’s a misunderstanding,” he replies, swiftly standing before you and shielding you with his arm. “Your… baby,” he wiggles his finger in front of the man's face, “she was the one hitting on me!”

The man scoffs loudly, his face growing redder from the anger seething in him. “So you hit on my girlfriend and then accuse her of cheating?” His fist rises threateningly, prompting Hyunjin to step back, accidentally bumping into your chest.

“Wait, wait, wait! Let’s go talk outside, man to man,” Hyunjin pauses, his voice taking on a taunting edge, “unless you're too scared?” he smirks as he feels you pull at his shirt, whispering an incredulous- “What are you doing?” He shakes his head, grabbing your hand and leading you outside, throwing a sly wink at the man behind you now.

“Are you seriously going to fight him?” you ask, your gaze shifting towards the deranged couple who are about to step out of the grocery store. “No, of course not. I'm a lover, not a fighter.”

“You said you'd fight my ex,” you point out and his eyes soften surprisingly.

“You are an exception.” He looks back at the man, who's now walking towards you both. “But anyways, do you know how to run?” he asks and you frown, “who doesn’t know how to—” you pause as realization dawns on you. “No," you whisper furiously.

“Yes.”

“No,” you shake your head, horrified and he nods, eyes apologetic.

“Yes.” His fingers entwine with yours, he squeezes your hand once before he takes off running.

“Hwang fucking Hyunjin!” you shout and he looks back at you, a mischievous smile on his face. “I’m sorry Yn my face is too pretty to be beaten up.”

“He’s following us!” you yell, looking back horrified as the, even angrier, man runs after you.

“Well, run faster!”

“I’m wearing fucking slippers!” you curse and he giggles, tipping his head back, the wind slamming into you both, his hand never letting go of your own.

“Oh my god why is he still running!” you groan and Hyunjin picks up speed, moving you even closer to his sprinting figure

“I know, is it ever that serious?” he yells above his shoulder and you dig your nails into his palm.

“Shut up, this wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so gorgeous.”

“So, you think I’m pretty too?” Hyunjin grins proudly and an incredulous laugh escapes your lips.

“Really? Is this what you’re getting out of this situation?”

“Silver linings, Yn, silver linings,” he shouts as you round a small alley, finally stopping to catch your breath. You both fall to the ground, heavy breaths escaping your chests.

“Holy shit, I’m not athletic at all,” he heaves, his eyes meeting yours. He expects to find anger lingering in your gaze but all he can grasp is your amused smile before you collapse into a fit of laughter, clapping loudly and clutching your stomach with your hand.

“Oh my god, I’m crying,” you laugh harder, wiping away at the tears falling from your eyes. Hyunjin’s weariness disappears in the blink of an eye— he did not realize how much he missed your smile until he glimpsed it again. And it is beautiful. Happiness looks beautiful on you.

“Idiot,” you hit his shoulder playfully, and his response is delayed for a few seconds, the warmth from your smile rendering him immobile.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckles, pulling you up. “Here, I’ll carry you home,” he squats slightly before you. “How impolite of me. How dare I make your majesty run.”

You shake your head, amused, before climbing atop his back, his warm palms holding your thighs securely. “Only because the slippers hurt my feet.”

You walk in silence for a while, your arms wound up around Hyunjin’s neck, the ghost of a smile still lingering on both your faces.

“They said it will snow tomorrow,” Hyunjin speaks suddenly and you stay silent for so long he starts to wonder if you even heard him.

“Mm? That’s nice,” your tone is melancholic, and he pauses at the peculiar sadness in it— as though you were trying to act nonchalant about something that has once meant the world to you.

“Don’t you like the snow?” he asks and your hold on his neck falters.

“I loved it. Loved ice skating and building snowmen.” Your voice is light and airy, like Hyunjin’s favorite mint chocolate ice cream. “But now it reminds me of bad times, bad memories.”

“I understand.”

Hyunjin knows what it feels like to relinquish parts of yourself you never wished to part from. For someone to grab your happiest places and to cast a gloomy filter atop them. Sometimes it is the loss of a season that hurts more than the departure of a person.

And Hyunjin loves winter.

He’ll do everything so that you’ll come to love it again too.

❁ ❁ ❁

Is it a nightmare if the person in it is one you once loved, looked forward to beholding with your gaze, hoping they’d never slip out of your reach? You don’t know, but you are growing tired of having the same dreams every night. Of waking up with an exhaustion that goes beyond your restless sleep but pleads from your soul to rest after almost a year of torment.

You sigh wearily, rubbing a hand through your face before walking to the kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. You find Hyunjin there, eating a cupcake while standing shirtless, scrolling through his phone. You blink at the sight.

“Hey,” you clear your throat and he startles, dropping the cupcake on the ground. He goes to pick it up only to bang his head on the table, a loud yelp escaping his lips. You barely contain your giggles as you walk to his side, rubbing your palm soothingly on his head. “I'm sorry I didn't mean to scare you.”

“At least pretend you are sorry,” he mumbles, pointing to your amused smile and you chuckle, taking his hand and helping him to his feet.

“What are you doing up now?” he asks as he grabs some napkins to clean up the pink frosting smeared across the floor.

You hesitate for a few seconds before whispering, “Just nightmares. And you?” you quickly add, not keen on pushing the subject any further.

“I'm working on a song,” he explains, as his gaze lingers on your sunken eyes, weighed down by dark circles from too many sleepless nights.

“And the cupcake?”

“Some people need caffeine to function. I need flour.”

“I literally see you drink three americanos per day.”

“Okay well maybe I need both,” he admits sheepishly and you grin, drumming your fingers along the countertop.

“Can I sit with you while you work?” you ask quickly, before the words linger enough in your mouth that you no longer wish to spit them out.

The smile that Hyunjin sends you is kind, pushing the shadows of your nightmares just slightly out of reach.

“Of course, yeah you can. Don’t even need to ask.”

Hyunjin walks first into his bedroom, quickly slipping on a hoodie while you take in the interior. It is a quite simple room— a large bed with gray covers, and a desk filled with what you assume to be his producing equipment sits adjacent. But what catches your attention is the dried rose hung delicately on the wall, and the array of paintings surrounding it. You edge closer to it, drawn to the well-crafted paintings— a sun-drenched beach, a couple lost in an embrace so intimate their forms can no longer be separated, and an elderly pair riding a motorcycle, their love radiating vibrantly as if enclosed in eternal youth.

“You paint?” you ask, turning around to find Hyunjin watching you. He steps closer, enveloping you once more in the fragrance of his rose perfume.

“In my free time.”

“You are amazing, Hyunjin,” you compliment sincerely, your gaze fixed on that imagery of the old couple, one that most likely grew together. It tugs at your heartstrings, stirs a painful longing within you, a memory of a time when you too believed you’d find such boundless love.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, before brushing his fingertips gently against your forearm, for a fleeting second. “Are you okay?” he asks, a tenderness you’ve been aching for latched into his question. Your eyes refuse to peel away from the paintings and the love spilling from each paint brush stroke, a love that refuses to rest on your being as if you were harboring an armor that repels it.

“No,” you reply sincerely, turning to face him. “It’s really hard,” you say with a smile, hoping that the mechanical display of happiness would keep your tears at bay, tricking your brain into believing you're not as sad as you feel.

It fails to do so, and the tears well in your eyes like a gathering storm. Frustration twists your features as you shut your eyes, tilting your head upward in a desperate attempt to contain the flood. It pauses as Hyunjin cradles the back of your head, drawing you close to the warmth of his neck. His palm glides soothingly along your spine, before patting your back ever so gently.

Your back stiffens, hands curling into tight fists, breath catching in your throat. You've grown accustomed to pushing away comfort, putting up tall barriers to shield yourself. But tonight, Hyunjin seems to break through your defenses.

Tonight, you soften, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, head nestling deeper against his tender skin.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he whispers and another sob wracks through you, but he only holds you tighter. “It’ll get better soon.”

“I loved him,” you hiccup, your voice breaks, “a lot.”

“I know, that’s why it hurts.” His voice is gentle, and yet his hold on you feels secure as if you could stumble and fall, and he would be there to catch you

“I want it to stop hurting.”

“It will, with time.”

Your next words are tinged with a childlike vulnerability, reminiscent of blow one, then two. But you do not care for it, in that instant, you crave the reassurance, you need someone to plant a seed of hope in your soul because your hands are too frail to dig for it.

“Do you promise me?”

His response doesn’t come hastily, carelessly thrown into the air like idle chatters. He takes his time, considering it with the gravity of an oath.

“I promise you.” He finally says, each syllable infused with sincerity. A brief pause hangs in the air before he adds. “And if it doesn’t then you can hit me.”

“On your pretty face?” you ask, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“On my pretty face,” he confirms with a chuckle.

“What an honor,” you roll your eyes playfully as you lean back and he grins, tenderly wiping away your tears with the back of his fingers.

“I can't believe it took three minutes for you to cry in my room. This isn’t good for my reputation.”

“Good thing this will never leave this bedroom, right?” you point a finger at him threateningly, and he pretends to zip his lips, tossing away the imaginary key. “You got it.”

“So what are you working on?” you ask as you settle on the edge of his bed, knees drawn up to your chest.

“It’s a pretty sad song, wanna hear?” he offers, sitting across from you on his chair.

“Yeah, I'd love to,” you smile, and Hyunjin deftly adjusts a few buttons, before his melancholic whistles weave through the air, coupled with the somber melody of a piano. Your breath catches in your throat, the music reaching into the very depths of your soul. It's as if the notes are calling out for a loved one, for a time that has long passed, for a past that will never come back no matter how much we long for it.

The instrumental continues, each piano note and each violin string echo like a bittersweet lament, springing tears to your eyes. But the melody remains beautiful, akin to the beauty always found in the sadness— in the tears that cascade down your cheeks like glistening crystals, in the tremble of your hands akin to branches swaying in the wind, in the rise and fall of your chest with each breath, mirroring the ebb and flow of the waves.

Hyunjin watches you intently as the music envelops you both, his gaze softening with each passing moment. You bring a hand to your chest, almost unconsciously, too engrossed in the melody to even blink. He feels a blush sprout on his cheeks as your teary eyes hold his with the last fading guitar strings.

“You keep on making me cry,” you whisper, your voice choked with emotion, and he grins, tilting his head shyly against his shoulder.

“You like it?” he asks, a tad eager and you nod, not bothering to wipe the lone tears that are falling down your cheeks.

“I think this is what my loneliness sounds like,” you confess softly.

“As do mine.”

A silent beat runs between you both, it isn’t uncomfortable, but safe. Because you understand him, just as he understands you.

“Sometimes I long for things that have passed," he admits, “although I know I can't get them anymore.”

“The most terrible thing you can long for is yourself.”

“Because no one’s to blame for that loss but you?” he muses and you nod, a sad smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, exactly.”

You bite your lip, casting a glance back at the paintings adorning the wall. “I don't love him anymore,” you begin quietly. “I stopped a long time ago because there was no room for love anymore to grow amid weeds and thorns.”

He remains silent, sensing that this is a weight you need to unburden yourself from.

“But in the midst of it I think I stopped loving myself too,” you whisper, a confession too terrible to be uttered out loud. “That's what I long for. The things I used to love that I'm indifferent to now.”

“Like you’re a stranger before everything once familiar to you.”

“Yeah, you express it prettily,” you remark with a small smile.

“It's my job,” he grins lightly.

“I think when your heart is pure,” he begins after a while, pausing to carefully choose the words that will soothe your burn, help sleep come more easily to you. “You give love to others more readily than you do to yourself. And it takes time, patience, to redirect that love back to your own heart once again. But it's not a mistake to love, you shouldn’t hate yourself for it. Nor should you blame your past self for loving the wrong person because they did not know what you now do.”

“Think of it as a caterpillar in their cocoon,” he continues gently, “when they finally emerge from their chrysalis, they might long for who they were, where they once were because it is the only place they've ever known. But they do not realize that they've transformed into a beautiful butterfly, that they can now fly, and witness much more than their chrysalis. So maybe, your new self will love the same things as before, or maybe you’ll find new, better things to love that you would have not known before. But in either way, your heart is beautiful. That is what matters, no?”

A small pout draws on your lips, your eyebrows scrunched as you gaze at him.

“You have a very tender soul, Hyunjin.”

Your words linger in Hyunjin's mind long after the sunrise, as you lay peacefully asleep on his bed. The melody of the instrumental he produced continues to play faintly in the background, serving as a gentle lullaby that eases you into slumber, entwined in his sheets, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself, one hand cradling your shoulders and the other resting gently on your stomach. The image sears into his eyes as he sketches the outlines of a figure holding itself absentmindedly, long into the night.

Hyunjin has had his fair share of compliments, mostly pertaining to his face, and others to his craft. but it is you who seems to have sensed that a part of his soul resided in his art, that he left pieces of his heart hidden in the notes he composes and the lyrics he writes, hoping they’ll find soft hands that will take care of them, just like your own.

Five days later.

hyunjin [11:34 p.m.]: are you home?

yn [11:34 p.m.]: yeahh, do you need anything?

hyunjin [11:35 p.m.]: come downstairs, im waiting for youu

if you say no i’ll freeze to death..

hurry i can’t feel my fingers anymore (please please) ㅠㅠㅠ

“This better be a life and death situation Hwang Hyunjin,” you say threateningly as soon as you appear before Hyunjin, causing him to straighten up from the wall he was leaning against.

“It is a very dangerous life-altering situation that requires your immediate assistance, indeed,” he responds solemnly, ushering you gently to his car and opening the door for you.

“Which is?” you ask as soon as he settles inside the car and he simply grins at you, his left dimple coming forth like the very sun on a gloomy day.

“You’ll see.”

Hyunjin’s eyes fleet to your figure every now and then, but you do not seem to notice, your gaze lost into the blurring lights ahead. He can tell you're still not entirely yourself, so he was prepared to forcibly drag you along with him. He’s almost surprised you accepted to come down so easily.

“Is that… Seungmin?” you speak suddenly, pointing to a man waving in the distance, as Hyunjin parks his car near an empty field.

“And Changbin? And Minho?” you continue, squinting your eyes, “and a bonfire?” you giggle with a hint of excitement.

“You love s’mores during the winter, right?”

Hyunjin smiles, your soul softens.

“I do,” you say quietly, “I really do.”

You quickly exit the car, running into Seungmin's arms with a grin of disbelief plastered on your face. “This is insane,” you almost shout, squeezing him tight in a hug.

“It was so hard to find the perfect middle of nowhere for this,” Minho grumbles as you move to greet him, but the warmth of his embrace assures you he's only teasing.

“Thank you,” you say with a smile as you hug Changbin, who affectionately ruffles your hair. “It was Hyunjin’s idea,” he reveals, and you glance back at Hyunjin, who stands with his hands buried deep within his sweatpants behind you. You mouth a silent “thank you” to him, but he shakes his head modestly as if it is nothing to bring happiness to a bruised heart.

The night unfolds in endless laughter, with Minho and Hyunjin taking turns roasting marshmallows over the crackling bonfire, and Seungmin serving you hot coffee to keep your hands warm. Your stomach aches from the uncontrollable fits of giggles that overtook your being as Minho recounts the time he danced so vigorously on stage for his dance club that he ripped his pants, feeling a breeze where there shouldn't be one; and Changbin tells you the story of the time his voice cracked in the middle of a rap battle, and how none of the boys stopped teasing him about it for months to come.

And as the four of them take turns making you laugh, a quiet, tender realization dawns on you—you are loved. It is something he tried to convince you was impossible, that no one around truly cared for you but him. And even then, you weren’t deserving of his love whole, only scrapes of it, as if you were a beggar tugging at the outskirts of his heart.

But Hyunjin reminded you otherwise. And if your friends found something worthy of love within you then perhaps so will you again, one day.

“Did you have fun?” Hyunjin asks as he opens the door to his, your, apartment hours later. What he doesn't expect is for you to respond by wrapping your arms around his slender torso, squeezing tight in gratitude.

“Thank you,” you whisper and he nods, though you cannot see him, returning the embrace by wrapping his arms around your shoulder blades.

Hyunjin doesn't let go first, sensing that perhaps you need this hug more than he does. He smiles as your eyes meet his again, but his grin falters when he notices your gaze flickering towards your bedroom, a hint of unease clouding your expression. It's as if behind that door lie monsters only you can grasp, wearing the faces of people you once knew, once loved.

“Wanna stay with me while I work on the song?”

“Last time I ended up sleeping on your bed,” you say a bit shamefully, recalling the morning you woke up to find yourself covered with a thick blanket that wasn’t there before, alone in Hyunjin's room.

“It's okay,” he shrugs, “I missed sleeping on the couch.”

You stare pointedly at him and he chuckles, “Fine, I did not miss it. But you needed the sleep, so it’s okay with me.”

“Fine,” you concede, though you did not need much convincing for it. “But only if you promise you’ll wake me up if I end up falling asleep again.”

Hyunjin tilts his head, thinking to himself for a few seconds before shaking his head stubbornly, a small pout drawn on his face, his eyes semi-closed. “No.”

“Hyunjin!”

“Nu-uh,” he insists, shaking his head once more as he walks back towards his room. “I'm waiting for you!”

“I'm not coming!”

But you do eventually join him, after changing your clothes and washing your face. You find Hyunjin clad in beige and white checkered pajamas, his glasses pushing back his silky hair as he hunches over his journal, scribbling away before erasing what he wrote.

“Struggling with lyrics?” you ask, leaning against the wall and he startles. “Do you float on the ground? Why can I never hear you come in?”

“Or maybe you just love being dramatic,” you sing-song, laying atop his bed, much more at ease than the previous night.

Hyunjin sticks his tongue out childishly in response, and you playfully mimic the gesture before both of you dissolve into happy giggles.

“Kind of,” he explains once you both settle down, “I have this specific feeling in mind that I need to convey.”

“You'll do well,” you reassure softly, “your lyrics are always so beautiful. Remember Cover me?” you smile and he scratches the back of his ear, a shy grin spreading across his face.

“You still listen to it?” he asks and you nod eagerly, attempting to belt into Seungmin’s ending high note. You fail horribly and Hyunjin throws a crumpled piece of paper on your face to get you to stop singing.

“My poor ears,” he laughs loudly, and you retaliate by throwing back a pillow on his head.

“You just don’t get my artistic abilities.”

“I’d get them more if you stayed silent.”

You gasp, faking offense as you stand up to tickle Hyunjin on his chair, he starts squirming immediately, his loud giggles spilling all over the room, coating it in vibrant hues of happiness, and you’re suddenly captivated by the sight of him— his head thrown back, a golden lock framing his laughter-filled eyes, his top lowering slightly to reveal glimpses of his collarbones and the delicate veins that trace enticing paths on his neck.

You pause, your hand hovering over the side of his stomach, as a long-forgotten warmth spreads through your heart, like the first rays of dawn greeting the earth after a long winter night. It doesn’t diffuse quickly through your being, but rather drapes like sticky honey on your veins, making you well aware of your growing blush, of how beautiful Hyunjin is in his joy.

“Never singing to you again,” you clear your throat, laying atop his bed once again, and quickly reaching for your phone, anything to avoid his eyes which rival the crescent moon outside his window.

Hours pass before a warm hand gently settles on your shoulder, rousing you from your slumber. Blinking away the fog of sleep, you find Hyunjin leaning over you, his grin wide and infectious. “Wake up,” he whispers, but you only groan, burying your face deeper into his pillow.

He doesn’t yield, taking hold of your wrist and guiding your drowsy figure upright, before wrapping the blanket snugly around your shoulders. Without a word, he leads you out onto his balcony, carefully putting his neon green beanie on your head to shield you from the cold.

“It’s snowing!” he smiles, and his excited tone manages to dissipate the fog in your mind. You blink repeatedly and soon enough, you too behold the fallen snowflakes, each one resembling a tiny speck of light bidding farewell to the sky to greet the earth.

“You missed the first snow so I didn’t want you to miss this one too,” he explains, and his thoughtfulness blankets you with a warmth that seeps into every crevice in your body, drips down your fingertips and makes the cold of 4 a.m. seem less harsh, less biting to the touch.

You don’t know how to say thank you, because those two words don’t encapsulate the depths of gratitude that you feel for Hyunjin. Because he is speaking to the person within you who still loves snow, the part buried underneath layers of dust from a ground heartbreak. But you still manage to hear him, and you squeeze his hand tightly, and he doesn’t let go until you finally do.

❁ ❁ ❁

Remembering has become easier for you these past two months— both the good and the bad. And each day, the scale tips towards one side or the other. Sometimes you recall the suffocation you felt with him, the feeling that no matter what you did you could never please him, that your hands were crafted to break rather than mend. And on those days your wound grows, it throbs and bleeds different emotions.

Sometimes it's anger— at him for treating your heart so carelessly as if you were a being devoid of feeling. And then at you— for staying, for giving him excuses and desperately searching for goodness within him, for the one redeeming quality that would convince you he was worth the pain.

And other days bring an excruciating sadness along, a weight that presses down upon you until you're paralyzed. Because you feel bad for yourself and for everything you went through. Because you’re unsure how to rise when unseen hands push you deeper into the abyss.

And on these days, Seungmin becomes your anchor. He buys your favorite food, skips classes with you, and takes you to your favorite gardens. He talks and he talks and you try your best to laugh because you do not wish to worry him more. It is enough to be your own burden, you do not wish to burden him too.

But when he drops you home, your facade slips away, the smile fading from your face as if it were never truly yours to wear. You are too tired to pretend so you don’t, and Hyunjin doesn’t let you, either. He brews you tea and orders takeout because he knows you lack the energy for cooking. He goes with you on walks and drapes you in pieces of his clothing— scarves and beanies and gloves because he knows you couldn’t care less about a cold when there is a frost coating your bones. He lets you sit in his room while he works on his songs, and while he paints. Sometimes you talk and often you don't need to. But he’s there. He's there with you.

But you also remember the good. You remember your movie night with the boys, Hyunjin building an entire fort for you, adorned with twinkling lights and the softest blankets. How you watched movies until 5 a.m. your bodies so closely huddled together that there was no room left for sadness.

You recall Hyunjin begging you to build a snowman with him at the crack of dawn, the two of you collapsing in fits of laughter as you threw snowballs at one another, your footsteps marking the fresh fallen snow.

You remember being so exhausted after one of your showers that you simply laid atop the couch, gaze fixed on the void, too drained to even untangle the knots in your hair. Yet, it is not the tiredness that you exactly recall, nor the salty tears you shed underneath the scorching water jet. But it is Hyunjin's tender hands as he brushed through your hair, his fingers tracing the nape of your neck, his knuckles ghosting over the slate of your shoulder. You remember whispering that it was a particularly hard day and Hyunjin understanding. You remember him watching many YouTube tutorials to prepare your favorite seaweed soup, only for it to end up being too salty. But you still ate it all, because he made it for you, to lift your wounded spirits. And that alone was enough for it to taste good.

You remember your heart hardening then softening again, breaking then stitching itself back together, closing off then blooming like flowers on the first day of spring. You remember smiling only to cry then smile again. And you remember liking snow, a bit more than you thought you would. Because Hyunjin was there, holding your trembling hand, steadying it enough for you to rewrite your memories with winter.

So, you want to say thank you.

You do not wish to spell it out, because there are too many things to thank Hyunjin for and too few words to do so. Instead, you drag him to the farmer’s market near your home, and you tell him to help you pick flowers.

“I could be in bed watching my favorite show and yet here I am bestowing you with my enchanting presence,” he sighs, not too modestly, as you both eye the array of colorful blooms.

“Okay, Shakespeare, are you done?” you roll your eyes, attempting your best to hide your grin.

“Done annoying you? Never. These are very pretty,” he adds, pointing to the white roses in full bloom, their delicate petals emitting a sweet fragrance into the air.

“I agree, what else should we add?” you ponder, picking out four roses.

“Mm, Hibiscus? The red in the center is so vibrant,” he suggests, taking out his phone to capture the flower.

“Cute. Baby breath’s would look good too,” you say as you gather the flowers, heading to the cashier with Hyunjin trailing behind, still admiring the delicate blooms.

“Can I write a note?” you ask the middle-aged man as he wraps the bouquet in a powder blue paper.

“Sure,” he replies with a smile, and you return the gesture, quickly jotting down your words.

“Are you done?” Hyunjin grins when you return to his side and you nod, exiting the flower shop.

“What do you think?” you ask, angling the bouquet towards him.

“It's beautiful.”

“It’s yours,” you smile, growing shier at the intensity of his gaze as it lands on you, then the flowers, then on you again. “Take it,” you hand it to him, your cheeks flushing like the hibiscus’s crimson core.

“Actually?” he says softly, his fingers trembling slightly as he accepts the flowers and you nod in response. You bite your lip as you watch him take out the note, his eyes softening once he reads the words inscribed in it— thank you for making my winter less cold.

“Should we go?” you say a tad too cheerfully, turning away, but Hyunjin grabs your wrist, spinning you around once more. His fingers trail up your arm, coming to rest gently on your cheek as he leans down to plant a tender kiss there.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips lingering against your skin for a moment longer than necessary. You think that if his soft lips grace your skin a few times more, your nerve endings might forget the harshness they were subjected to. If his gentle hands remain on your cheeks, then maybe, your heart would heal quicker, better. Maybe your past self that you long for would emerge again, maybe Hyunjin would be able to unearth it.

Your hopeful thoughts disappear as quickly as they arrive, overshadowed by a sense of helplessness that crashes over you, all of the sudden. You sense him before you hear him, the familiar anxiety that is only synonymous with your ex’s presence.

“Yn?” the sound of your name feels harsher in his mouth, the syllables spat out rather than spoken tenderly, as they are when Hyunjin pronounces it. Your veins run cold as his voice pierces the air, your heart skipping three beats at once before plummeting to your knees. You wrap your hand around Hyunjin’s forearm instinctively, and he looks down at you, his expression morphing into one of concern.

You’re unsure of what he sees in you— whether it is your pale face, the quiver of your lower lip, or the fear that has coated all your features— but his eyes harden, his brows furrowing as he gazes at the man behind you.

You refuse to turn around, bracing yourself for his next words. “Yn,” he repeats his tone laced with anger, his fingertips grazing your arm as if intending to force you to face him. But before he can touch you, Hyunjin intervenes, swiftly stepping in between you and your ex, shielding you with his own body protectively.

“Leave,” Hyunjin's voice is cold, dripping with a venomous edge you've never heard from him before, his jaw clenching with barely contained fury.

“Is this your new shiny toy, Yn?” your ex taunts and his voice cuts through your being against your will, triggering a flood of memories you've tried so desperately to suppress. Memories of his cruelty, his manipulation, and the pain he inflicted upon you—using your love as a weapon to bolster his own ego.

“What's in it for you?” you find your voice again, though it trembles when you speak. He is the very embodiment of your pain and everything you loathe about yourself. You wish for the ground to swallow you whole, for a bolt of lightning to strike the earth, anything to spare you from facing him.

“It's only been three months, I didn't know you were a whore.”

Hyunjin's fist connects with his cheek before you can register his words. It all unfolds so rapidly that you barely have time to comprehend it. Your ex staggers back, blood trickling from the cut on his lip, while Hyunjin stands before you, his chest heaving with restrained anger, his right hand clenched into a fist, the bouquet still held tightly in the other.

“Fine, I deserved it,” your ex chuckles, his voice laced with mockery as he wipes the blood from his lip. His gaze meets yours briefly behind Hyunjin's back.

“You might not be a whore but you are unlovable, keep that in mind.” He spits out before walking away, crude words that tear at every scab covering your wounds, reopening them with a brutal force. Hyunjin moves to follow him, but you grab his shirt, pulling him back.

“He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Your words seem to snap Hyunjin out of his haze as he turns to look at you, worry cast across his figure. He moves to cradle your cheeks but you step back, refusing to meet his eyes. He swallows thickly, clutching the bouquet in his hands. “Are you okay?”

You let out a heavy sigh, your shoulders slumping as you shake your head slightly. “Let's just go home,” you whisper, eyes fleeting to his for a split second. All the lights in your gaze are muted.

You’re crumbling before him once again and he cannot stop it, no matter how much he yearns to.

It's long past midnight when you find yourself seated on the floor of your living room, a bottle of red wine placed between you and Hyunjin. You exchange it wordlessly, taking turns sipping from it, the alcohol warming your insides but doing little to ease the ache in your heart. You don’t exactly recall when Hyunjin sat next to you, but you don’t mind. You were too lost in your own thoughts to even register his presence.

“Yn,” he calls out softly and you hum absentmindedly, memories of when your ex spoke your name haunting you, each time he yelled your name, uttered it in disdain as if it was the starting point of everything wrong with you.

“Talk to me, please?” he pleads, angling his body towards your own. But you refuse to meet his eyes and Hyunjin’s heart twists in his chest. He is afraid of all the ugly thoughts that must roam your mind. He wishes he could enter it, open the windows wide, and usher the light in.

“I'm sorry you were dragged into this,” you say, your gaze fixated on the bouquet placed atop the table. The crimson painted on the hibiscus’ petals reminds you of the blood that spilled from your ex’s mouth, and your gaze fleets to Hyunjin's hand, slightly bruised from the punch.

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, “there is nothing to be sorry for.”

It’s as though you don’t hear him, your fingers trailing gently across his scraped knuckles, tears pooling in your eyes the more you stare at his hand.

“Does it hurt?” you ask, voice thick with emotion, and Hyunjin’s quick to shake his head. “No, don’t worry about it. He deserved it.”

“You didn’t deserve to be hurt.”

“Neither did you.”

Your disbelieving scoff that follows scares him. What if you’re slipping away into a dark place yet again, one void and barricaded, in which the only sound that echoes is your ex’s hurtful words? What if he can’t reach you again?

“If the only person I’ve ever loved says I’m unlovable then maybe I am.”

You’re drunk, you wouldn’t have said such an ugly thing otherwise, wouldn’t have allowed this sentiment to materialize into the air, to take a tangible form apart from your abstract thoughts.

“No,” Hyunjin says in a panic as though he’s trying to quickly pull the brakes on your free-railing thoughts. He cups your face between his palms, your tears falling freely atop his hands but he does not move away.

“No,” he repeats, more calmly this time. “How he treated you is a reflection of who he is. And how you see him is a reflection of who you are. And you wanted him to be loving because you’re full of love. You wanted him to be good because you are a good person. And he can’t stomach that, can’t stomach that you are happy without him so he’s trying to ruin you again.”

“Hyunjin…” you shake your head but he only inches closer to you, his thumbs gently caressing your cheekbones. “No, listen to me. Seungmin loves you so much he couldn’t eat properly for the first few days you stayed here, texted me all the time asking me how you were and if you were feeling better. He isn't good with words so instead he tries to make you laugh. He wishes he could give up parts of his happiness for you.”

A sob swells within you but Hyunjin presses on. “And Minho, he tried to memorize all your favorite recipes so he could cook them for you. It isn’t a coincidence that every time we go over to their dorm it is your favorite food that we eat. He takes more pictures of his cats these days so he could send them to you because he knows it cheers you up.”

“You told me Changbin doesn’t know you well enough to fight for you but when we saw your ex across the campus one day he wanted to get up and beat him. He always asks me if you are well and if there is something he can do for you, anything.”

He inhales deeply, tears welling up in his eyes as well. “And me…” a tender smile graces his lips as he gazes at you, “you make this house a home. I feel like my true self when you are around and loneliness doesn’t come to me as often as it did. Because you are here. You are like a beam of sunlight that lightens up every life you touch, mine first,” he’s baring his soul to you, vulnerable yet resolute. “So tell me, Yn, what’s not to love in you when you yourself are so full of love?”

“Hyune,” you speak the nickname for the first time, and Hyunjin’s heart thrashes achingly around his ribcage. “If you keep talking like this I might end up loving you,” you smile sadly at him as if it is a terrible thing to be loved by you.

“But I don’t want to love you, because I won’t know how to, not anymore. So I'll end up leaving. And I'll long for you, and I don't think I can stomach longing for you from afar.”

“So please,” you place one hand atop his own, wipe away the lone tear rolling down his cheek. “Don’t make me love you, hm? You deserve more than to be loved by someone like me.”

You leave Hyunjin in the living room, alone before the white flowers you gifted him. He doesn’t want to put them away in a vase, for as soon as he grabbed them from your hold, everything around you both crumbled. So he leaves them there for the night, the creamy white petals aglow underneath the moonlight. He spends the night painting the bouquet from memory, but the petals end up too tinged with red, perhaps mirroring the blood his heart refuses to stop spilling still.

He did not realize it before, maybe he blinded himself so he wouldn’t see what was before him all along. But it is all the clearer to him now— that in his attempts to make you love winter again, Hyunjin only ended up loving you.

A week later.

hyune [1:25 a.m.]: i miss you

You and Hyunjin spent the last seven days avoiding one another, well you more than him. He just understood your silent plea when you took a step back the one time he tried to talk to you in the kitchen, swallowing thickly before inching away, allowing you to move past him.

You did not know how to face him after what he said, partly because you were embarrassed by your own response, mostly because even in your drunken daze, his words etched themselves permanently into your memory.

It is his reassuring words that echoed in your brain for the past week, not those of your ex.

hyune [1: 26 a.m.]: and i miss sleeping on the couch

You giggle, shaking your head before replying.

yn [1:26 a.m.]: no you don’t

hyune [1:26 a.m.]: no i don’t ㅠㅠ

but i finished the song

wanna hear?

Walking to Hyunjin’s room feels as familiar as going into your own. And when your gaze finally meets his you can’t help but break into a relieved smile. It was foolish of you to punish yourself, enough people have done that for you already.

“Hey,” he greets tentatively, and you respond with an awkward wave, a moment pregnant with anticipation passes before both of you dissolve into laughter.

“What is this? Are we in middle school,” he teases and you giggle, settling comfortably on his bed once more.

“I know. We are so lame.”

“You are,” he corrects with a grin and you gasp, pretending to leave but he quickly catches your hand, stopping you. “No, please stay. I meant it when I said that I missed you,” he repeats quietly, as if afraid that his confession would make you run away once again.

Your heart aches, the knots in your stomach tightening and unraveling all at once. “I missed you too,” you admit softly, and he smiles, his thumb tracing a gentle path above your pulse before releasing your hand.

“So it's done then?” you ask and he nods, running a hand through his hair with a hint of anxiety. “How do you feel about it?”

“Good. I hope you’ll like it, mostly.”

“I'm sure I will,” you reassure him with a soft smile, and he nods once more, pressing a few buttons before his melodious whistles fill the air once again.

Nothing could have braced you for the sound of Hyunjin's voice that followed, its timbre soft as silk yet imbued with profound sorrow. It's as though he recorded the song on one of his loneliest nights, his honeyed vocals dipped in an excruciating nostalgia that seeps into every corner of the room, every corner of your heart.

In the faded photo, I come across a smile spread across a youthful face, overlapped with the seasons.

Your gaze flickers to Hyunjin as a shadow of recollection dawns on you. You remember telling him that you couldn’t stomach looking at pics of your past, ones in which you smiled so freely because you were blissfully unaware of what was to come.

The night’s so cold that it’s almost unreal.

Because you weren’t aware of the winter that will follow and the biting cold that it would bear, for everything that will go astray in your relationship, for your ex's facade to crack like a glacier succumbing to the pressure of lies and pretense.

I wake up in another silence, and I close my eyes.

You remember Hyunjin confessing that silence haunted him more than words ever could, and you had agreed, sharing how sometimes you shut your eyes, pretending that the reality you woke up to wasn't the one you were living.

The white flower we planted together has bloomed. I do not dare pick it. Now it withers away.

You gaze at the white flowers you brought him, now wilted in the vase placed on his desk, yet Hyunjin refuses to throw them still. You see the card you wrote for him hung on the wall, right next to the dried red rose. He kept it. Though it withered, he kept it all.

So I long for you. And I long for you. And I'll long for you.

You remember the longing you both spoke of, how he understood a feeling you felt so incredibly alone in. How he tried to reassure you when he too was caught in the webs of the past. How you longed for him in the past week. How you wished he longed for you just the same.

So I can keep loving you. So I could be loving you. And morе.

The violin swells and so does the emotion in your chest. You remember him asking you ‘What’s not to love in you’ and how you've spun those words in your thoughts ever since. You remember thinking that if he gave you a few more weeks, just a bit more time, you might have found it in you to believe them.

You see Hyunjin’s glimmering eyes holding yours, you see his heart atop a platter handed to you, and you see the resignation in his being. Don’t make me love you, you told him. You didn’t dare to tell him not to love you in return, deemed it too foolish of thought to entertain.

For he was Hwang Hyunjin, the quiet producer who paints in his free time and who wears his heart on his sleeve. Who remains hopeful, loving, and tender, despite the thorns pricking at his side. Who is beautiful, so much so that he allowed you to see beauty in the universe once again, through his eyes.

How could he love you?

How could you not love him?

“The song,” you whisper, the words barely escaping your lips as you stand, trembling, on your feet. Hyunjin rises too, meeting you in the center of his room.

“It is about you. For you,” he says simply as if his words don’t cause your world to burst at the seams only to mend itself once again, too eager to fix itself and exist in the same timeline as Hyunjin.

“I don't… I don’t know what to say,” you say earnestly, feeling your heart pound in your chest, its beats resounding loudly in your ears.

It is wrong of you to assume he wishes you to say something. He is Hyunjin, the one who finds words in your silences too, after all.

“I don’t need you to say anything,” he shakes his head, taking another step closer to you. “I don't want an answer, I don't wish to pressure you. I just wanted to tell you that my love is here, it is yours to take or to leave, to cherish or to discard. But it is yours, because this is who I am. I am someone who loves you.”

“So do not tell me to forget you because I don't know how to. And don’t tell me that you’ll leave because I will love you still, because you’d still be you, near or far, you are you. And you are someone I long for.” He pauses, his voice softening. “And I long for you, Yn, more than anything I've ever longed for. And I've spent all my life longing.”

His lips meet your forehead tenderly, and you feel your entire being grow limp at the chaste kiss, as if your limbs wish to liquefy and form a puddle on the floor. His touch is soft, and you miss it the moment he parts from you.

“There must be something in this room that keeps on making you cry,” he smiles and you bring your hands to your damp cheeks, surprised to find there tears you didn’t realize had fallen.

“It’s you,” you pinch his arm playfully and he squirms away from your hold, stabbing his toe on the desk in the process. A loud fuck echoes around the room, and your laughter dissipates the tension clinging into the air.

“Can you play it again?” you request softly and Hyunjin’s theatrics fade as a shy smile tugs at the corner of his lips.

“Is it good?”

“It's everything to me.”

“It's called ‘long for you’, by the way.”

“Long for you,” you repeat quietly. There has never been a prettier combination of words.

The title all but makes sense as you lay on the bed, your gaze fixed on the paintings hung on the wall, Hyunjin sketching quietly on his desk, the song resonating softly in the background. You've longed for many things in your life—the person you once were and the tender love you once craved—but amidst it all, nothing has weighed heavier on your heart than the longing for the man sitting just two meters away, almost in your loving grasp. Almost.

❁ ❁ ❁

It is an excruciating five days that Hyunjin spends apart from you, the both of you too caught up in your assignments to find a moment to properly speak. But you do not shy away from him when he greets you, and your grin is kind as it drapes across his being, and Hyunjin swears he has never seen a prettier sight than you smiling.

On the sixth night, Hyunjin completes the cover for the song— a figure wrapped around itself protectively, mirroring the way you hug yourself in your sleep. He hangs it on the wall, right next to your thank you card and the white bouquet he drew once again, wishing to properly immortalize its beautiful flowers, to purify that memory from the tumult that followed it.

On the sixth night, the house is quiet, the full moon high up in the sky, snowflakes falling softly to the ground. Hyunjin wonders if you too mimicked the snow’s descent— both of you falling apart with it.

But then, there’s a knock on his door.

His heart catches in his throat, his body freezing as if it forgot how to move. You are here.

“Come in,” he manages to say, his voice barely above a whisper. You push the door open, and Hyunjin's words wilt on his tongue as he sees what you're carrying—another bouquet, filled with white flowers, yet again.

“Hey,” you smile, standing by the door.

He remains silent, unsure of what to say, or how to speak. He longs for you when you are away, even more so when you’re before him.

“We shouldn't let these white flowers wither away too, right?” you smile slightly, placing the bouquet on the desk before walking to Hyunjin’s bedside. His voice falters, vocal cords refusing to move and overshadow your voice.

You sit beside him, gently pulling his hand so that you’d both lie on the pillows. Your hand doesn’t leave his own, instead, it moves to rest on his cheek, reminiscent of the many times he had cradled your face before. Inch by inch, you close the gap between you, nuzzle the tip of your nose against his own. “Hi, Hyune”, you say softly, and he swallows thickly, his voice coming out just as quietly.

“Hi, my Yn.”

“If we take care of the white flowers together do you think they’ll survive a bit longer?” you ask, your gaze never wavering from his, countless stars twinkling in the depths of your irises.

“I believe so,” he says tentatively, too aware of the warmth of your palm against his skin, of the sweet ache unfurling within his being.

“Mm, and even if they wilt we can always buy new ones. We can learn how to care for them better, with time,” you say, and he nods in agreement, laying his hand atop your own, tilting his head to bestow a chaste kiss on your palm.

“With time,” he echoes softly and you smile, vulnerable yet secure in his gray sheets, in his hold.

“Will you give me time too?” you ask, and Hyunjin reads in your eyes what you mean, understands in the shake of your voice the question you are too afraid to voice. Will he give you time to heal in order to love?

“As long as you need. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures, pressing his forehead gently atop yours, and you both close your eyes, as a running warmth encloses you both, blooms a blush on both your cheeks.

His arms wrap around your back, drawing you close until your chests are pressed together, your head resting naturally in the curve of his neck. And it is long forgotten in your mind, all the nights you slept in this very bed alone. You feel safe, safe enough to long for love knowing that it patiently awaits you behind the door, once you find enough courage to turn the doorknob. You feel serene, as Hyunjin’s warm palms glide soothingly up and down your spine, as every muscle, every nerve, every atom in your being relaxes in his hold.

You are healing, slowly, with each fleeting second that passes in which Hyunjin’s heartbeat resounds within your chest, as its melody runs through your veins, melds with your own as if it was destined to be there all along. As you rest in Hyunjin, as you find a safe home within his soul to discard your worries at the doorstep and breathe.

“It did get better,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his shoulder blade. “Hm?” He leans back to look at you, and he’s so beautiful, so tender as he gazes at you, you can’t help but trace the contours of his face with your fingers, hoping to commemorate him with your eyes, with your touch.

“You promised me it’ll get better, and it did,” you smile, as your legs further intertwine with his, and his rose perfume becomes an indelible mark on your skin. “Too bad I can't hit your pretty face now,” you joke and he giggles, tipping his head back.

He's so beautiful, body and soul, and he longs for you, you alone.

“But I can still do this,” you murmur before finally pressing your lips against his like a boat finally reaching the shore after months of sailing. You both exhale, in yearning, in relief, as your mouths move together in a slow, languid dance, his hand finding the pulse on your neck, yours settling atop his jaw.

He would kiss you again, this intimately, in the coming months, when your heart expands enough to contain the love Hyunjin deserves. He would kiss you again, when your past comes to haunt you, and healing sounds like an elusive myth you’d never encounter in your life.

And he would kiss you again, over the kitchen table and under the fridge’s light, in between paintings and in supermarket aisles, while picking flowers and watching the first snow.

He would kiss you, this tenderly, in the next winter, and the ones after it, as if his longing for you never wanes. Till blow three disappears from your memory, till all you remember is the love, the true one, the kind one, the soft one Hyunjin alone could have brought you.

1K notes · View notes

jazzyoranges · 3 months

Note

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #scream #tara carpenter #scream 6 #tara carpenter scream #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #anika kayoko #samantha carpenter #quinn bailey #ethan bailey #wes hicks #amber freeman

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katakaluptastrophy · 6 months

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Can we talk about Magnus in Harrow the Ninth? Because there's a tendency to paint him as this constantly cheerful figure and he's not - he's just very Fifth.

He's the only person who seems even slightly upset about the whole gun-toting horror thing:

“Did the Sleeper get them?”

“Only by assumption,” said Harrowhark, while Abigail’s dolt of a husband said, “I bloody hope so.”

“Magnus,” Abigail said, a touch disapprovingly.

“Well, if the Sleeper didn’t, that’s two maniacs with an ancient weapon and a love of blowing off faces, dear,” said Magnus.

And he's got a very low opinion of Silas:

"She won’t tell me what he said to her, just that he ‘was horrid.’”

“Cheeky little so-and-so,” said Magnus. “If he were my son, I’d give him something to think about. I’m not surprised he’s gone to ground.”

“I would hope your son might be of different character,” said his wife, half-smiling.

“Protesilaus should have biffed him.”

“It’s strange,” said Abigail, ignoring her husband’s exhortations to biffing.

Behind the jolly Jeeves and Wooster-esque talk of biffing people, let's remember that this is Magnus - who from Gideon's POV never saw a teenager he didn't want to adopt - earnestly wishing that a grown man had hit a 16 year old kid.

And when Harrow explains that she thinks she saw him jump to his death, Magnus isn't particularly sympathetic:

“We should have made him a greater priority,” said Lady Pent.

Magnus said, “I’m not certain.”

and

“We didn’t need him,” he said bracingly.

Abigail said, “We need everyone.”

“I never thought he was quite the thing.”

This "never quite the thing" line is the same one Abigail uses when she says Ianthe shouldn't have become a Lyctor and you get the sense it has a quite specific meaning on the Fifth. You get the distinct feeling Magnus is saying "good riddance" in response to a teenager's apparent suicide.

And then of course there's Magnus' conversation with Harrow as the River bubble collapses, as Harrow debates whether she should leave her body to Gideon:

She said: “If I go back, it will finally destroy her soul.”

It was Magnus who stepped forward and looked at Harrow face-to-face. And perhaps she felt that more keenly: that he was the man who had, in Gideon’s own words a lifetime ago, been nice to her cavalier. His mouth was hard now, but his eyes were as kind as they had ever been. And kindness was a knife.

He doesn't pull any punches in laying out his understanding of the situation to Harrow:

“This whole thing happened because you wouldn’t face up to Gideon dying,” he said, which was a stab as precise as any Nonius had managed. “I don’t blame you. But where would you be, right now, if you’d said: She is dead? You’re keeping her things like a lover keeping old notes, but with her death, the stuff that made her Gideon was destroyed. That’s how Lyctorhood works, isn’t it? She died. She can’t come back, even if you keep her stuffed away in a drawer you can’t look at. You’re not waiting for her resurrection; you’ve made yourself her mausoleum.”

His wife looked at Harrow’s face and murmured, “Magnus, you’ve made your point,” but he uncharacteristically ignored her.

He's trying to get through to her in a very fraught situation, but he's certainly not pulling his punches:

“You’re a smart girl, Harrowhark. You might turn some of that brain to the toughest lesson: that of grief.”

Abigail is also trying to talk her out of things, but she's much more discursive and apologetic. Magnus is kind, but it's kindness as a knife, not a cushion.

Magnus is so often written off as just a silly, goofy character, when he's more complicated than that. He's allowed to have a very real frustration with the River bubble and with Harrow, however much he does also care for her and want to help her.

And you know what, he's a CFO stuck in a horrorscape with his delighted ghost nerd wife and a bunch of soldiers. He runs with it - he cracks one of his House ordinal jokes while physically tackling a gun-toting ghost and makes a decent go at it before getting shot. But he's very much out of his comfort zone, angry, and no longer entirely held back by propriety.

#the locked tomb #tlt #magnus quinn #harrow the ninth #To digress into TUG spoiler territory...#A Lyctoral Abigail slowly blurring her calm and polite filter into Magnus' directness...

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honnelander · 8 months

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busgirl

once again i got carried away and wrote way more than i planned too lol thank you to the lovely anon who requested this and i hope i did your prompt justice request: what if the reader’s a merchant’s daughter who was supposed to marry a suitor but she runs away and ends up meeting sanji

WARNINGS: none

word count: 3.4k

pairing: opla!sanji x fem!reader

summary: reader is arranged to be married but she won't stand for it. so what does she do? she runs away and meets one particular chef, begging him for help

masterlist

taglist: @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @smolracoon25 @mischiefmanaged71 @amanda08319

You never imagined your life turning out like this: still living with your father at this grown age, never having gone beyond your small island town ever in your life, and waking up every day just to relive the same day over and over again. It was torture.

Every single day of your life has been the same since you left school: you woke up before the sun rose, made breakfast for you and your father, helped prepare the wagon for its daily trip into town, then spend all day yelling in the town's square trying to sell any shoes you could (your father was a shoe merchant), pack up the unsold product at the end of the day, head home, make dinner, then go to bed soon after cleaning up just so you could wake up and do the same things all over again. You hated it.

But what could you really do to change anything? You were born to a poor shoe merchant and ever since your mother had died, things had become even tighter for your small family, of now, two.

Your father never had much, barely a penny to his name, so that meant you also had no money to your name either. Sure, you could've started a side hustle of scams and cons, maybe trying your luck at playing poker at the docks whenever pirates showed up, but how could you just leave your father like that? Just leave him all alone once you scraped together enough berry to buy a one-way ticket out of this town? As much as you were tempted, you couldn't. It didn't feel right. And besides, you were always too exhausted at the end of the day to do anything else anyway.

But then one day, your father said something that would change your life forever.

The day started out like any other. You had cooked a quick meal of toast and eggs for yourselves and once you finished your plate, you moved to get up to put the dishes in the sink for later.

But before you could get out of your seat, your dad grabbed your wrist gently, telling you to stay seated. "Actually, y/n, no need to rush this morning. We're not going into town today."

"What?" You were taken aback. You couldn't remember a day where you both didn't do this daily routine. "Why?"

Your father couldn't look at you in the eye. Instead, he kept his focus on his half-eaten breakfast, which was also weird. He normally finished eating before you. "Y/n...you know I wouldn't do this unless I had no other choice," he started.

You felt your heart drop to the bottom of your stomach. What was happening?

"But business has been really slow lately, and I tried to hold this off for as long as I could," he continued.

"Hold what off?"

He kept talking like you hadn't said anything. "But there really was no other choice." He swallowed and finally looked up and the look in his eyes scared you. You've never seen your father look that upset before...the only other time he had looked like that had been when mom died.

You tried to swallow but your mouth was dry. "Dad, what's going on?"

"And you know I always will love you, right?"

"Dad," you said a little more sternly, your heart beating a thousand miles a minute. "What is happening?" After a moment of silence, you repeated yourself. "Dad, answer me."

His next sentence hit you like a ton of bricks. "Y/n, I arranged for you to be married."

You couldn't move. "What?" you breathed.

Like always, your father continued on like you hadn't said a word. "He's a nice man, a decent man. His name is Olaf and he's from the North Blue, comes from money..."

You felt your dad tighten his grip on your wrist and suddenly you felt like you were being suffocated. You ripped your hand away from your dad's grip, the sting of betrayal hurting more than any cut or wound ever could. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you fought your hardest not to let them fall. "You sold me?" your voice quivered.

Those three words finally got your dad's attention. He looked into your eyes again, hurt evident in his gaze, but you realized you didn't care. Not anymore. "No," he replied firmly. "You know I would never sell you to anyone. I would never do that."

A humorous laugh escaped your lips. "Oh? But you'd put me in an arranged marriage instead? For money?" When you blinked, tears fell down your cheeks. "Are we really that poor dad?" you spat.

"Y/n-"

"Why didn't you tell me how bad off we were before? Before-" you stuttered and waved your arms around, "before all of this? I could've- I could've done something, anything." You ran a hand through your hair as you exhaled, a sardonic smile appearing on your face as you looked up to the ceiling, up to whatever God had subjected you to this cruel fate.

"There's nothing you could've done, y/n."

"You don't know that!" you exclaimed. Pure hot red rage adorning your features as your furious eyes snapped down to look at your dad. "I could've hustled, I could've conned the guys down at the dock for some money. I could've done something instead of nothing!"

"And then what? End up dead in a dark alley once those men found out you stole money from them? End up raped?" Your dad's anger matched yours, his voice growing louder with each sentence. "Maybe become a pirate? There is no way I would ever let that happen to you y/n."

Your dad hated pirates and you knew he would rather die before he ever let you become one.

You flung your arms up in exasperation. rolling your eyes as you let out a frustrated groan. "Oh I don't know dad," you yelled, "maybe I could've joined the Marines or something!"

But your dad didn't like the Marines either. He believed pirates and Marines were the same person, just in different clothes.

"I wouldn't let you do that either, you know that y/n."

Suddenly, a thought stuck you: you were an adult, so why was your father still making all of these major life decisions for you? It didn't make sense.

But you knew one thing: you certainly weren't going to marry some rich guy you didn't know from the North Blue. Not if you were still living and breathing.

You glanced at the open window behind your dad, seeing the early morning tinges of a sunrise lighting up the sky. Perfect, you thought. Docked ships normally didn't leave port until the sun broke the horizon, so you had a chance to hop aboard any ship that would take you far far away from here. Away from your miserable life and a father you were realizing you hated.

The sky started becoming brighter by the minute and your heart rate started to spike. You estimated you had around 20 minutes or so until the sunrise broke and if you were serious about running away, it was now or never.

Suddenly, you stood up from the kitchen table and realized that your father had stopped whatever he was saying to look at you with a curious expression.

"Y/n?"

"Y-you know what dad?" your voice shook and you swallowed your nerves. "I...I think you're right? This Olaf guy probably isn't that bad and would probably give me a better life than I ever could," you ground out and forced a smile that you were sure looked more like a grimace. "I'll do it."

If today had been a normal day, your dad would've been tipped off that something was up but he was just so relieved that you were actually agreeing to all this.

Your dad had a relieved smile on his face as he said, "That makes me so happy to hear that y/n. You have no idea."

"Y-yeah, me too," you agreed with a small nod. You reached down to pick up your plates but your hands were shaking.

Your father placed a hand on your arm. "I understand you're nervous sweetheart. Why don't you go lie down in your room? There's some time until Olaf gets here. I can handle the dishes for today."

Perfect. You agreed and nodded quickly. Thanking your dad and giving him one last look before you went up to your room and never saw him again.

--------- -----

Your lungs were burning as you ran towards the docks. You could feel sweat running down your back as you pushed yourself to run as fast as you could, arms pumping and feet kicking out dirt behind you.

The sky was beginning to turn a lighter shade of orange and a ping of fear gripped your heart.

What if you didn't make it? What if all the ships were all boarded up and ready to set sail by the time you got there? It wasn't uncommon for ships to leave a tad early since most of them had a full day at sea before them but you were so close, you just had to make it. There were probably around five minutes or so until you reached the docks and you just had to get over this ridiculous hill.

But your legs were tired and your sides were cramping and you could feel yourself slowing down due to exhaustion. You weren't a huge runner to begin with but you were literally running for your life- so what choice did you have?

If you made it through all this, you vowed to yourself that you would get better at running. Who knew the next time your life would depend on it?

As you reached the top of the hill, you took a quick second to breathe and survey the docks before you but what you saw nearly stopped your heart. There were normally a dozen or so ships that littered these docks but it looked like most of them had headed out early with only a few ships remaining, and the ones that were left? They looked like they were nearly ready to leave port as well.

With newfound urgency, you sprinted down the hill, yelling out to any sailor who would listen to your plea.

"WAIT!" you screamed. "Wait for me!"

But no one acknowledged you. You started to wave your arms around, your travel bag bouncing around as you continued to sprint.

"PLEASE! I beg you!"

As you got closer, you could start to make out the names of the few ships that were there. There was one ship called "The Happy Farewell" and you figured since they were closest you would try them first.

"Get lost girl," the ship's captain sneered. "I got no use for a girl like you."

"But please, I need to leave. You don't understand," you begged.

The captain clicked his tongue as he shook his head. "Don't we all?" he muttered. But he spared you one last glance before boarding his ship and something in your expression must've been wildly desperate because he sighed before nodding towards the ship two docks down. "Zeff's."

"What?"

"Go to Zeff's ship, girl. The Baratie. He doesn't have the heart to turn away desperate souls like yourself."

Your head whipped towards the direction the captain was looking and you saw the decent-sized Baratie standing there.

"But you better hurry," he warned. "They're setting sail as soon as we leave."

You quickly looked back at the captain to thank him but he was already walking up the plank to board his ship, barking out orders to let down the sails and hoist up the anchor.

Shit. You had to hurry.

You sprinted two docks over and once you reached the dock The Baratie was tied to, you saw a couple of men in white coats loading up the last of the crates of food onboard. You had just made it.

It was weird to you that these pirates were dressed up in matching white coats and blue bandanas around their collar but, hey, it could always be worse and you weren't in a position to be picky. You would even join a circus crew at this point.

You made your way over to the closest "pirate", a tall blonde guy that had hair almost covering his left eye. He was inspecting one of the crates, clipboard in hand and checked things off as he examined it.

"Excuse me," you huffed, trying to get this man's attention. "But I need your help. I need to speak to the ship's captain."

"Don't we all," the guy replied with a good-humored laugh and crooked smile, not looking up from his clipboard.

"Please," you urged. "It's important."

The man looked up from his clipboard and did a double-take, clearly not expecting a young woman like yourself, who looked like they just ran away from demons, asking to speak to the captain this early in the morning.

His eyebrows rose as he looked you over, his smile disappearing. "Are you alright Madam? Is something the matter?"

As his eyes scanned you over, you noticed how good-looking this guy was. And here you were, all sweaty and disheveled, your hair probably sticking out in all different directions. You prayed to whatever God was out there that you didn't have sweat stains on your shirt.

What a day this was turning out to be.

You ran your hands over your hair, trying to smooth down your flyaways and hoping you looked a bit more presentable. "I will be alright, when I speak to the captain."

"Anything I can help you with?"

What the- was this guy hitting on you? Your wandering eyes snapped back to look at this man when he asked that, looking to see if he really had the audacity to hit on you while you were begging for help, but you saw no trace of flirtation whatsoever, just concern.

"Ah- no. Unless you have the power to give me a spot on this crew."

The man's eyes lit up (you noticed they were blue). "Ah, so you want to join the Baratie? Become a chef yourself?"

You looked at him in utter confusion, blinking a couple times to make sure you heard him right. "Huh? A chef?" You looked at his outfit a little more closely and turned to examine the other men who were dressed similarly. You didn't notice it before, but they weren't just wearing any white coat, they were wearing a chef's white coat. "You guys are chefs?" you asked dumbly.

The chef, as you now noticed, rubbed his jaw as he tried to hide his smile at your obvious question. "Yes, Madam. We're chefs."

"So you're a pirate chef?"

The blonde cook couldn't hide his laugh at your series of questions, his blue eyes sparkling and white teeth showing like he had just heard the funniest joke. "No, Madam. We're just chefs. Not pirates or pirate chefs."

You felt stupid and felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. "Oh." But if they were all chefs on this boat, did that mean... "Wait- do I have to be a chef in order to get on this boat?"

"Ah well, if it were up to me," he sighed, "I would give you a spot on the ship regardless if you could cook or not." He twirled the pencil between his fingers as he crossed his arm in thought. "Although, we do need some new waiters. The dining room always seems to be short-staffed..."

You opened your mouth to quickly volunteer yourself even though you never waited tables a day in your life but the blonde chef kept talking.

"Or," he thought out loud," if you really wanted to be a chef with no experience, there are ways you could get into the kitchen. We do need a new busboy. Or girl," he quickly corrected. "Move your way up and learn..."

The sun broke the horizon, the morning orange light now fading into yellow. You swallowed. You were out of time. If you couldn't get a spot on this ship then your life was over.

"I'll do it," you quickly interrupted and nodded. "I'll- I'll do anything. A chef, a waiter, a busboy or busgirl- anything. I'll even clean toilets if I have to. I just- I need to get on this ship."

Your desperate plea silenced the chef, pulling him out of his musings and you could see concern wash over his features. But before he could say anything else, a voice called out from the top of the ship's plank.

"Oi! Sanji! What the hell are you doing down there, son?" the man with a tall chef's hat and braided mustache called out. As he made his way down to the dock, you noticed one of his legs was a wooden peg instead. "The sun's broken the horizon. I don't know how many times I need to tell you this, but next time we pull out of port late, I'm shoving my leg up your ass and you're off the line for a week."

Sanji shook his head, for once not caring about the threat of not cooking, and looked at his father figure, nodding to you. "Zeff, you need to speak to this girl. You have to let her join our crew."

You watched as Zeff followed Sanji's nod and looked down at you with raised eyebrows. It was like he just noticed you were there. "Her? For the last time Sanji, I'm not letting one of your one-night stands join the crew," he said with an exasperated sigh and turned back towards the ship. "Pretty or not."

"Wait!" you called out, grabbing Zeff's arm and immediately dropping it when he turned to look at you in disbelief. "I, I don't know him," you quickly said, pointing at Sanji and taking a big step away from him to prove your point, "My name is y/n and I desperately need a spot on your ship, Sir. Please."

Zeff studied you for a moment, eyes scanning your face. "People like you normally aren't 'desperate' to join my crew."

"But I am, Sir. I," you inhaled a shaky breath at the thought that this man could also turn you away. "I can't stay here. I need to leave. I'll do anything. I can even scrub the toilets."

Zeff regarded you with a short sigh. "Lass, there's no way I would have you scrubbing toilets. I'd make him do that way before asking you," he said and jabbed a thumb at Sanji, silencing Sanji's scoff of disbelief with a look. His face became serious as he asked, "You're serious aren't you?"

You nodded. "As serious as I can be sir."

The head chef became quiet, looking at you like he was trying to figure out what you were running away from, but it wasn't any of his business. At the end of the day, everyone had a past and he wasn't there to judge.

"Alright, lass, you want a position at my restaurant that badly? You got it. Your first service as a busboy- girl, whatever- starts tonight." He pointed a finger at you and with a stern voice asked, "Everyone on this ship earns their keep, alright? And no talking back. Understood?"

Relief flooded your veins at his words, you couldn't control the smile that stretched your cheeks as you nodded. "Yes, chef."

The corner of Zeff's mouth twitched upwards in amusement and he nodded once. "Good." As he turned around to head back onto the ship, he glanced at Sanji. "I like this girl. Wherever you found her...good job, son." He started walking back up the plank onto the ship and called out, "Get those last few crates up on here, boy. We got to leave, we have a dinner service tonight!"

You frowned as you watched Zeff walk away, a little annoyed at the thought that 'Sanji found you' instead of you finding him. When you looked over at Sanji, you saw him still watching Zeff make his way up the plank, beaming slightly at the head chef's praise.

"You didn't find me. I found you," you said to your newest crewmember.

Sanji looked over at you, a small mischievous smile on his face. "And aren't you glad you did?"

Before you could correct him or slap him, you heard Zeff calling out to you from the ship's deck. "Oi! Y/n! What are you doing down there? I'm not paying you to just stand there all day with Sanji! There's a pile of dirty dishes with your name on them in the sink."

"What? Already?" you grumbled as made your way up the plank to board the ship.

From behind you, you could hear Sanji's laughter and you could hear it until you made your way inside.

#sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji vinsmoke x reader #sanji x y/n #opla!sanji x reader #opla!sanji #one piece x reader #one piece live action #one piece fanfiction #sanji live action #opla #i loved how this turned out tbh #i may make a part 2 #just imagine the potential #thank you to the anon that requested this!

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serpentandlily · 25 days

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Untouchable X - Azriel x Reader

Untouchable - Azriel x Rhysand'sSister!Reader

Summary: For as long as you can remember, you have always had feelings for Azriel, your court’s spymaster. But after centuries of watching him pine after your own cousin, hoping he’d eventually move on, your wish came true. He moved on—with Elain, your brother’s mate’s sister. Unable to watch him fall in love with someone else again, you flee from Velaris, from him. But things are a lot more complicated than that—more complicated than you ever imagined.

Warnings: smut and fluff, pure fluff

Author’s note: omfg guyssss, I can’t believe this series has come to an end! I had so much fun writing it and I hope y’all had just as much fun reading it! Thanks for all the love and support you guys have given me throughout it all! Hope this is a fitting ending!

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Part X: The Finale

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

“Are you sure about this?”

You looked at Azriel, at the vulnerability in his warm hazel eyes, at the love and adoration they held but the lingering insecurity dampened it just enough that you turned to him fully.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything, Azriel,” you whispered, gently.

“I just don’t want you to feel rushed,” he sighed. “I don’t want you to feel like you have to make this decision before you’re ready. I’ve waited five hundred years for you, I can wait more. I can wait until the sun and moon collide, princess, as long as you’ll be mine in the end.”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. You were standing outside the doors that would lead to the Priestess’ chapel. Just a few steps away from being mated—from being tied together for all of eternity.

“I’ve waited enough. We’ve waited enough,” you replied. “I want this, Azriel. I want you. I can scream it from the rooftops if you wish. Nothing will change my mind about you.”

His lips twitched into a smile. “Okay, okay. Then, let’s not keep the Priestess waiting.”

He pushed open the doors to the chapel, holding them open for you as you strode inside, the small train of your dress trailing behind you as you went. Your mother had sewn you this dress before she died, for this very moment. It was pure white with a long, sheer draping cape covered in silver diamonds. The bodice had a sheer underbust with those same diamonds carefully placed to make a beautiful, intricate pattern. The skirt fell to the floor, shimmering in the faelights of the chapel also covered in diamonds. It was beautiful, truly, and Azriel’s breath had been stolen away the moment he had seen you in it. You looked like the goddess of the moon, herself.

Your brother, who you allowed to help you get ready since you had decided on a private mating ceremony, had teared up at the sight, himself. Rhysand had given you a loving speech before sending you and Azriel off to your ceremony knowing he wouldn’t see the two of you for at least a few weeks as you would leave immediately after for your mating honeymoon.

Azriel himself was dressed in all black formal wear, finely made and tailored to his body perfectly. Your mouth had gone dry when he had stepped out of the shadows, his dark hair tousled and looking like a true Angel of Death. The dark side of your moon.

Standing here now before the Priestess as she read out verses of love and unity, you couldn’t focus on anything but your mate. He stared back at you with the same intensity, his wings held out proudly and his shadows encasing the two of you, swirling around in delight.

“You may say your vows, now,” the Priestess declared, shutting her book and bringing out the ribbon that was to be tied around your wrists and hands. Azriel held out his hand for you and you took it, holding them up for the Priestess who began to wrap the ribbon around them.

“I have prayed to the stars every night since the moment I fell in love with you, Azriel, that a day might come where you’d be mine and I’d be yours,” you breathed out. “Despite all that stood between us, the magic that kept you from me all these years, I wouldn’t change a single thing if it meant that this was our ending. I will love you until I no longer exist, through death and all that comes after.”

“There would be no shadow without light,” Azriel whispered, resting his forehead against yours as you stared up at him. “And you have been my light, princess. I live and breathe for you. My body, my soul, my mind, were made to love you and only you. Because you are the light in whose shadows I exist in. You are the guiding star that I will follow until the end of all things. I vow to love and cherish you for all of eternity. Nothing shall keep us apart from this moment on. No magic, no God, no death can separate us. You are mine as I am yours.”

You blinked the tears in your eyes away as the Priestess finally tied off the ribbon with a smile. “As witness to your love, I bless thee with the sanctity of the Mother and all that is holy. May your love serve as a reminder of the good this world can offer. You may seal your vows with a kiss.”

And so you did. The kiss Azriel gave you was full of love and passion—a promise to all that he planned to give you. The Priestess held out a small tray with the pastry you had baked for him—a small pear tart that you knew was his favorite sweet treat. She winked as you took it from her before winnowing away to allow you privacy.

And the Gods knew you’d need it if the heated look Azriel was giving you could be seen from heaven.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

You barely made it through the door to the villa the two of you would be staying in for an indefinite amount of time before Azriel’s lips crashed against yours. You met him with the same intensity as he pressed you against the wall, caging you in with his taut body.

He groaned as you parted your lips for him, allowing him the chance to taste you—to claim your mouth as his. One of his hands stayed against the wall while the other traveled down the length of your body, somehow finding your leg in the mess of your skirt and hooking it around him.

Still, there were far too many layers between the two of you. Your body was on fire with want, with need. Sparks were igniting in your lower stomach, a terrible ache that only Azriel could soothe was taking over. The mating bond was singing its beautiful tune.

“Bed,” you managed to mumble out between his kisses. “Now.”

His shadows encased you once more, taking the two of you to the lush bedroom upstairs. You pushed him towards the bed but he stopped you, pulling away from you as you whined in disapproval.

“No teasing,” you pouted.

Azriel grinned. The sight of it was so breathtaking.

“I assure you, princess, I have no intention other than ravishing you tonight.”

He twisted you so your back was to him and he gently began to unbutton the bodice of your dress, pressing a kiss each time a new inch of skin was exposed to him. You melted into his delicate touch, allowing him to undress you completely until you were naked before him.

“I’ve waited a long time for this,” he growled against your skin, pressing kisses down the length of your back until he was on his knees. He placed his hands on your bare waist and turned you around to face him, staring up at you with a reverence that had your heart jumping in your chest.

He kissed your stomach, hugging your body with his arms. You could feel his muscles flexing—his hazel eyes so dilated, they appeared black—and you knew he was holding himself back for a moment.

“There is no part of you that I am going to leave untouched, princess,” he groaned, his eyes trailing down your body, full of hunger. “Now that I can touch you, I’m going to make you wholly mine.”

“What are you waiting for?” You whispered, so full of need. Your words had the desired effect, his restraint finally slipping. He pushed you backwards until your knees hit the bed and you fell down on the soft cushion, your hair fanning around your head like a halo.

Azriel rested on his forearms above you, capturing your lips again with a new frenzy that left you panting. A hand slipped underneath your neck, tilting your head back so he could deepen the kiss, caressing your tongue with his. He tasted as good as sin.

His lips began to trail down your throat, sucking on the tender skin and leaving love marks in their wake. Your hands slipped into his hair, fisting his dark locks between your fingers and he continued his path down your body, staying true to his own words that no part of you would go untouched tonight.

He explored every inch of you, leaving you to moan and squirm underneath him. You arched into his touch, wanting more. So much more.

“Azriel, please,” you whined as the ache between your legs became unbearable. Azriel looked up at you with his dark eyes from where he had taken your breast into his mouth.

“Keep begging, princess,” he growled. “You will not rush me.”

Your head fell back against the pillow as he started his ministrations on your breast again, using his hand to caress the other one. His kisses were soft but his hands were not. Not as they groped and squeezed you with a bruising grip that only heated you further. As if having handfuls of you was simply not enough.

His mouth traveled down your stomach, licking and biting a path on your skin until he pulled away, standing up at the edge of the bed. You rose onto your elbows, eyes glazed with lust.

Azriel drank in the sight of you laying bare before him, a muscle in his jaw flexing, his hands itching to touch you again.

“So beautiful,” he murmured. “My mate. My love. All mine.”

“I’m yours,” you whimpered, sounding far too needy. “Please, take me.”

He leaned over, running his hands down the length of your body before he pressed a kiss against your belly again. “My mate.”

Another kiss between your hips. “Mine.”

He fell to his knees, pushing your legs apart so he could kiss the inside of your thigh. “All mine.”

And then he hooked his arms around your thighs and yanked you to the edge of the bed. You let out a gasp, raising onto your elbows again to look at him. He kissed the back of your knee before moving his way up your thigh.

“I need to taste you, princess.” His voice was a near whine as he left marks all along your leg—sucking and biting. You moaned his name repeatedly, begging and begging him just like he wanted.

That set him off because a moment later, he was devouring you with a hunger only a mate could have. Your wanton moans had him palming himself through his pants, trying to relieve some pressure. He sucked and licked your core, not stopping until you fell over the edge, his name coming out of your mouth like a prayer.

You were still coming down from the high as he made his way back up to you, kissing your lips, letting you taste yourself on him. You pulled back, grabbing his face in your hand. Gods, he was so beautiful. Everything about him was so beautiful.

Your heart fluttered at the love in his eyes, you were smiling without even realizing it. You kissed him as you reached for the buttons on his shirt. “Take this off. Now.”

“Anything for you, princess.” He smiled against your lips and helped you undress him as fast as he could until he was as naked as you.

You could feel his hard cock pressed against your stomach.

You ran your hands down his chided chest, raking your nails over his skin. He groaned at your touch and you pressed a kiss to his jaw, his throat, enjoying the noises you were causing him to make. Your hands continued their way down his body until you were about to finally grasp his cock but he grabbed your wrists in one hand and slammed them into the mattress above your head.

You let out a noise of displeasure.

“I can’t wait any longer,” Azriel groaned. “I need you. Now.”

You hissed as he took his cock in his hands and lined it up against your entrance. He hovered for a second, glancing at you, seeking permission one last time.

“Please,” you begged. “Don’t stop.”

Azriel held himself up over you with a hand on either side of your head, lightly brushing his lips against yours. He slowly slid inside of you, inch by inch. Savoring the way you wrapped around him. You groaned, wrapping your hands around his biceps, your nails digging into his skin at the slight pain.

But the pain was worth the pleasure. Was worth the feeling of your bodies becoming one. You wanted that feeling to never end.

He stopped once he was buried inside of you, allowing you a moment to adjust as he hid his face in the crook of your neck, breathing deeply.

“I love you,” he mumbled against your skin. “You are mine. My mate, my love.”

“And you are mine,” you whispered back.

“Until the end,” he agreed.

He started to move, pulling all the way out and thrusting slowly back in. Azriel let out a curse and bit down on your neck, his canines piercing your skin. He licked the new wound as he pulled back out and thrust again.

“Gods, please,” you moaned at the feeling of him inside of you.

“No gods here to beg, princess,”Azriel growled. “Just me.”

He fully unleashed himself then, his restraint snapping, as he lost himself in the feeling of you wrapped around him. You closed your eyes, melting into the mattress. He took every part of you, claimed every inch of you with him. You weren’t sure where your body ended and his began.

With every frenzied thrust came a declaration of how much he loved you, how good you felt, how beautiful you looked with him buried inside of you, between his growls of pleasure. You became hyper aware of every brush of his skin, the feeling of his warm breath against your neck.

The pleasure inside of you grew and grew with every stroke of his cock until his name was slipping from your mouth with a string of curses and pleas. Your hands trailed his body, down his back until you reached his wings. He groaned as your fingertips brushed against the cool membrane, his pace quickening.

His thrusts grew more frenzied at your touch as the bond shined like starlight between the two of you. It was blinding, all consuming.

“I love you,” Azriel murmured between his kisses and it was those words that finally sent you over the edge. Stars exploded behind your eyelids, your darkness taking over the room as you reached a high you’d never felt before.

At the feel of you coming on his cock, tightening and pulsing around him, Azriel fell over the edge right after you with one final thrust, burying himself inside of you as a hot stream of his cum filled you so thoroughly.

Both of you were panting as you came down from that high. Azriel collapsed on the bed next to you, wrapping an arm around your body and dragging you to him. You rested your head on his chest, listening to his heart that beat to the same rhythm as yours. The same rhythm of your mating bond’s mesmerizing song.

Azriel lazily ran his hand up and down your spine. His touch was soothing and you never wanted it to stop. Not when you had once been untouchable to him. No, you wanted to feel his skin against yours at every waking moment and you knew he felt the same way by the way he clung to you now.

“I love you,” you whispered, tracing over his tattoos with a finger.

“I love you too,” he mumbled into your hair. “You are my everything. I’m never letting you go again now that I have you.”

“Good,” you smiled, propping yourself up to look at him. “Because I'm never letting you go either.”

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

100 years later

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Your heart was warm as you sat cuddled against Azriel, watching your family open their solstice presents. Your hands were intertwined, as they always were since the day the two of you had your mating ceremony. Azriel had never considered himself a publicly affectionate person but after centuries of not being able to touch you, he would never stop now that he could—no matter who was around.

Rhysand and Feyre sat on a settee across from you guys. Nyx and Selene stood beside them, smiling down at their two younger siblings as they ripped open their presents from them. Cassian and Nesta were on a couch next to them, a bundled up babe held in her arms.

Mor and Emerie were giggling in the corner together, like they were in their own little world. Elain stood with Lucien, three younglings that shared the same red hair running around her legs with laughter. Even Amren was smiling, sat with Varian.

You placed a hand on your bulging tummy. You were due any day now with your first babe with your mate. Azriel placed a scarred hand over yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. Azriel’s shadows wrapped around your belly in a protective cocoon of sorts and you batted at them with a huff.

You had thought your brother had gone overboard with protecting Feyre all the times she was pregnant but Azriel by far took the cake.

The baby wiggled, causing both of you to gasp lightly at the feel.

“I can’t wait to hold him,” Azriel murmured to you. “He’s going to be beautiful. Just like you.”

You smiled, kissing him on the cheek. “I think he’s going to look just like his papa.”

Azriel chuckled, the tips of his ears turning a bit pink. He had been fussing over you and the baby since day one. He had built the entire nursery himself, with his own hands, claiming he didn’t trust anyone else to make things for your child.

“Either way he’ll be perfect,” Azriel said, kissing the side of your head.

“Yes,” you breathed out, lovingly rubbing your belly. “He will.”

And three days later, the next chapter of yours and Azriel’s love story began.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

The end.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

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#acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel #acotar x reader #acotar x you #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel shadowsinger #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #rhysand's sister #azriel fluff #a court of thorns and roses

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rucksackmentality · 5 months

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List of the truths shared in Nana Morri's Honesty trial (C3E79):

Imogen: I am genuinely scared to meet my mom again.

Laudna: Deep down inside, both Delilah and I want the shard...Fearne should have it, but I don't know anymore what's my opinion or desires or feelings, or hers.

Imogen: I love Laudna deeply but I'm disgusted at the thought of Delilah looking at us all the time.

Orym: I'm super lonely all the time, especially at night. It doesn’t matter if I'm bunking with one of you guys.

FCG: Sometimes I pity some of you because you have beating hearts and opportunities and you don’t do enough with them...Chetney, you have so much love to give and it doesn't seem like you're interested in anything other than wood! There's people out there who you could love and experiences you could share with someone else, but all you care about is wood!

Orym: I've always kind of laughed it off but I guess I do kind of wonder if Chetney is my dad.

Ashton: I am the reason that the Jiana Hexum robbery went fucking wrong, and the reason why I got thrown out of a fucking window.

Fearne: I feel like we’re very ill-equipped for this job and we're going to fail at saving the world. (Laudna: Honestly that's probably true, I'm right there with you.)

Chetney: While wood may be the superior material to metal, I do fear that, with the dwindling interest in it, that children will find my toys - and thereby myself - obsolete every year I grow older.

FCG: I think it's something buried deep down in my circuitry, but every time I hurt or kill something - it feels really good. It makes me sort of relax a little bit and some of my stress goes away.

Imogen: I know we're supposed to save the gods, but I've tried talking to them my whole life and none of them would ever respond. I think I'm tainted. I dont know if I want to save gods that don't love me.

Laudna: You know we could rip-cord out of [saving the world] at any moment...right? And sometimes I fantasize about it all the time.

Fearne: I sometimes do stuff to you guys while you're sleeping - not weird stuff, I just like to look at you closely...and maybe like, twiddle your hair or braid it. Nothing bad!

Ashton: Whenever it starts to get quiet, I start worrying that one of us - most of us - are going to end up killing another one of us accidentally...I have panicked thinking about when one you kills another one of us.

Orym: I have all the faith in the world in you guys...and I have also spent time thinking of how to neutralize each of you.

FCG: I kinda worry that I put all my eggs in the Changebringer basket and she might betray us all. I had a really weird conversation with her and I think she's just out for herself and she might not really care about me - but what if she does? And I'm saying horrible things?

Imogen: Fearne, I was really disappointed in you for running away from your power. You should take the shard!

Orym: I really miss Dorian, and sometimes I think that's okay, and sometimes I think it isn't.

Ashton: I feel fucking worse that I just fucked up Fearne's life way more than mine and I should've died instead of that happening.

Chetney: I grew up in the Bramblewood outside of Westruun, and when I was a kid, I came back from learning how to make toys and found that my whole family had left. All they left behind were toys. They ran when Errevon the Rimelord was running across the plains, and so I'm kind of afraid of dragons. And I had five siblings - Alabaster, Pepper, Sugarplum, Hermey, and Chad - and I was so mad that they left I never looked for any of them, and now I'm pretty sure they're dead. So I think any family I have is just gonna look for a reason to leave me. That's why I don't get attached to anybody.

#critical role #cr spoilers #c3e79 #cr3

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lydiimae · 27 days

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Home.

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader

18+ MDI

Based on a request you can find here <3

Warnings: angst, mentions of family member death, mentions of alcohol, arranged marriage, awful reader relationship with mother,

A.N: Hello my loves, and hello to my lovely anon. I'm so sorry for being MIA, I had midterms and good god they almost killed me ‘︿’. Anon- I hope that this is what you wanted, I am not the most experienced in writing angst but I found this quite fun (perhaps my love of making a dramatic story lol). Thank you all for the love, as always. Mwah ≧◡≦

He did not expect you to change so much in your time away. Sure he expected you to mature in the four years you were gone, you were coming back at the new age of twenty-one. He just did not expect all of the light, the light he loved, to be gone. His Y/N had changed. She had gone from warm to cold, from happy to sad, in such a short time.

Your father and his father were close friends. Both of them being Viscounts meant that they spent a lot of time together. You, being the eldest of your family but also too young and rowdy to really click with Anthony, got on just as well with Benedict. There was always an unspoken love between the two of you that neither of you were brave enough to admit.

The only one with who you got on better than Benedict, was your father. It was apparent for anyone to see that the two of you had a unique bond. A bond that you most certainly didn't hold for your mother. She was cold and extremely cruel, your father had only married her for convenience. So, when your father died, Benedict expected you to be devastated. Who wouldn't be? He had been sick for many years before his death, a case of scarlet fever that just never went away. It was expected, but that did not mean it was less painful.

The night he passed, you showed up at his family's doorstep in tears begging for the footman to bring him down. So, after being woken up by said footman, he tugged on a robe and rushed down the stairs. He saw you and immediately knew. He rushed to you and scooped you up in his arms before taking you up into his bedroom and soothing you into sleep. Proper decorum be dammed, he stayed with you the entire night and then had a carriage bring you back home at dawn.

A week later, you, your mother, and your younger sister showed up at the Bridgerton's door dressed in all black. Violet led you all into the drawing room and gathered the rest of the Bridgertons as well, after hearing your mother mention that she would like her dear friends to be present for a big announcement, always the attention hog. Benedict was dragged in by Eloise, expecting another lecture about the upcoming social season, but his face quickly fell when he saw you.

You already looked so defeated, so tired. You looked up and forced a sad smile, moving over on the sofa so he could sit next to you. He walked towards you quickly, and sat down next in the space you made, discretely offering his hand. Your face softened, and he could tell you were holding back tears, but nevertheless, you gripped his hand tight in your own before focusing your attention on your mother.

"We are going to France, where my family lives. I feel the girls should get to know the rest of their heritage now that their father has passed on." She says bluntly, the cold look on her face never changing. His eyes widen and instantly snap over to you, internally pleading with whatever power he can think of that this is not true. That you will not be swept away before he even has the chance to try and win you over.

You are chewing on your bottom lip, the anxious habit you have had ever since you were young. You look over at him slowly, your eyes filled with unshed tears that he knows you will not let fall. That is when he knows that it is true. His Y/N is leaving. For God knows how long. To be stolen by God knows who.

You sigh as you get out of the carriage that has trapped you for the past eight hours, stretching out your limbs before taking in the scenery. That damn two-day carriage ride from the port had been nothing but exhausting. The estate you grew up in is standing tall right in front of you, and yet it is almost unrecognizable now.

It looked the same, sure, but something about it seemed a lot less colorful without your father. The impending doom of your arranged marriage hanging over your head probably didn't help that fact either. Your mother had been clear in what she wanted when you got to France, a rich man. Not for herself, but for you. Someone who could expand upon the rather large dowery your father had left you. Someone who could make her rich, your happiness be damned.

And so that is just what you found. The hunt for a suitable husband had begun a year after you arrived in Paris, your eighteenth birthday coming and going without a peep from anyone but your sister, Lucy, and a long letter from Benedict. Your grandmother was just as cruel as your mother, if not more so. She quickly introduced you to a man named Noele Beaumont, a man in high-up places in French nobility. An extremely wealthy man.

In the three and a half years you had known him, the two of you had done nothing but fight. Well, the fighting consisted entirely of him shouting at you until you were either in tears or hidden away in the closet somewhere, your chest rising and falling much too fast. It seemed that cruelty was, in some sick and twisted way, attracted to you.

Your mother, after much convincing, had allowed you and Noele to take your home in London upon marriage. That, and, she had allowed for the marriage to be held in England. You were home, finally home, and now you were realizing that it does not matter if you are home or not. The world had lost its color.

"Y/N, whatever is the matter?" Lucy piques up from beside you, taking your hand. "I miss him, Luc. That is all. I miss him and I wish that he were the one here instead of mother." You whisper, wiping an escaped tear from your eye with the back of your hand before turning to your sister. "But at least I have you, and at least we are home." She smiles sadly in response, gently leading you inside.

Your mother greeted you both with a flat expression, having insisted on traveling home a week before to make sure nothing had gone awry in the years that you had been gone. Noele and his family will join you in a month, during the week of the marriage. It seems that neither of you wish to spend more time with each other than necessary. "You have a letter already, Y/N. From one of the Bridgerton's. Do make haste of reading it, we have no time for silliness." She mutters, handing it to you before walking off with your sister.

You sigh and walk into the drawing room after handing your cloak to a maid with a smile. You look around the familiar room and breathe deeply, hoping for the comforting smell of the tea your father used to brew, but are quickly disappointed when all you smell is your mother's obnoxious perfume. You sit down on the chair by the bookshelf and open the letter.

You recognize the handwriting immediately, Benedict. He wishes to see you as soon as he can, but more importantly, he has asked you to be a model in the latest portrait he is painting for his classes at the academy. You smile softly to yourself, taking in the woodsy scent that comes off the letter, the world getting a bit brighter if only for a moment. You sigh and walk up to your bedroom, smiling at the comfort that washes over you, before sitting down and drafting a letter of your own, telling him that you will make time for him come noon tomorrow.

You run your fingers over the parchment when you have finished signing your name. So many words left unsaid. You smile sadly and fold up the letter, sealing it with the wax crest of your family before passing it to a maid with instructions to take it to the Bridgerton household before the evening comes.

Oh, how you despise your mother. After about two hours of arguing yesterday, she had finally given up and allowed you to go and see Benedict. You were used to the names she called you, 'whore' and 'harlot' being the two she most often used, but she had far stepped over the line yesterday.

She had run out of insults to call you and moved on to Benedict. Insulting his artwork, his standing in his family, his habits, anything she could grasp at she used.

"You are to be married to a nobleman in a month, Y/N! You will be tainted by that boy, he is nothing but a disgrace! His head has always been in the clouds, you know that!" She shouted from where she stood in your bedroom. You grit your teeth. "Take that back this instant, you moron! That family has done everything for us! He has done everything for me, he cares more about me than you could ever dream of!" You shouted right back.

She had gone on for at least a half-hour more, finally giving up when Lucy walked in and pleaded with the both of you to stop. "You are nothing but a whore looking for attention, Y/N. You will ruin yourself with him. You will, and I will not help you out of the hole you dig yourself into." Your mother huffed, before turning and walking out of your bedroom.

Your sister had stayed with you last night. You had fallen asleep in her embrace, nothing but a mess of sobs. You wished for nothing more than to go to him right now and run away to the countryside, and leave all of it behind. But you had a duty, you had to look out for Lucy's happiness so she would not be doomed to the life that you are now forced to live.

You had woken up in the early morning, your lady's maid helping you into a dark blue dress before leaving you to your own devices. You spent the hours up until eleven reading and avoiding your mother like the plague. You walked downstairs once it was time to leave for the Bridgerton estate.

A short carriage ride later and there you are, in the same position that you were four and a half years ago, knocking on his door with tears in your eyes. You had become emotional about five minutes out, overcome with the joy of finally seeing him. Finally being able to speak to him, rather than imagining what his voice sounded like when you read his letters. You had missed the feeling of home when you were around him, you had missed how the world looked when he was in it. You had missed him.

He had been unable to sleep once he had written your letter, and unable to do anything but read in the drawing room in the hours before your arrival. He was sitting on pins and needles, waiting for the familiar sound of a knock on the front door to come so he could rush to it before any of the servants. He wanted your welcome home to be comforting, as he had known how much you had been through in France.

When he had gotten the letter explaining the marriage you had been dragged into he locked himself in his studio for weeks on end, being unreachable to anyone, even Eloise. He had spent the first two laying on the chaise, looking up at the ceiling with an unstoppable rush of tears slipping down his cheeks which only stopped when he fell into a restless sleep.

The tears turned to anger, which he let out through pages upon pages of poetry. Confessing his love, damming his foolishness or lack of words, berating himself into oblivion for why could he be so stupid as to not tell you to wait for him? To hold onto hope that he would save you?

Then the weeks of anger turned to inspiration, hours spent drowning his sadness with art. Countless paintings of you, of your favorite flowers, of the hill the both of you held so many memories upon, anything that could get him out of the depression he had been sucked into. It was the point that he was at now, a melancholic feeling lingering over his head that he refuses to let himself feel.

The knock comes right when the clock strikes twelve and he practically throws his book to the side, rushing to the door and throwing it open. You are finally home.

The tears start before you can stop them and he quickly tugs you inside, closing the door before wrapping his arms around you. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, and finally, after months of not allowing yourself to cry, you sob. You sob hard, a million pent-up emotions releasing like the snap of a string in your chest.

You look up at him through your teary eyes and smile. "I have missed you dearly, Benedict." You whisper a hidden meaning you hope he can uncover buried beneath your words. He flashes that silly crooked smile you have come to adore before ruffling your hair. "I have missed you too, Y/N. You will never know how much I missed you." He says, wiping your tears before taking a step back.

"You have grown up. You look so... mature." He comments, almost as if he is trying to figure out something about you. Something that even you cannot decipher. You smile in return. "You have as well. I believe I have the right to call you an old man now." You hum, beginning down the hall to where you know the room he has painted in his entire life is.

He chuckles from behind you, before following. "I am but eight and twenty." He whines playfully and you laugh. "That is two years away from thirty, and if Anthony is old then so are you." You opine, looking back over your shoulder at him before stopping in front of his studio's door. He grins and nudges your shoulder before opening the door for you.

You marvel at the surrounding room when you walk in. You knew that he was a good artist, it came naturally to him, but he had improved in your time away. You walk into the center of the room, walking in a slow circle to take in all of his works which line the walls and stack up upon the floor. Most are of women in various states of dress, ever the lady's man Benedict Bridgerton.

You are glad that some things do not change, but it also makes a strange feeling of longing bubble up in your chest. You wish to be naked like the women in the paintings, talking and flirting with him for hours on end. Making love to him when the heat of the room becomes too much. You wish to wake up to him beside you in the morning, for every morning for the rest of time.

You shake the feeling off and look over at him, noticing that he has already taken his place behind the easel. It looks as if he has already started his sketch. "It is gorgeous in here, Ben. You are the most talented artist in all of England." You say, a look of pure adoration in your eyes that he immediately picks up on.

You wish to die with nothing but the image of that sweet pink color that overtakes his cheeks to remember. He quickly turns his attention to his canvas and nods slightly, clearing his throat. "And you are the best flatterer in all of England. Thank you Y/N." He says quietly. When you begin to turn to face him fully he holds up his hand. "I quite liked the position you were in when you were looking over your shoulder. If it is not too uncomfortable, might you hold it? You had the most beautiful look in your eye." He says kindly, looking up to meet your eyes.

It's your turn to blush at both his kindness and his way of complimenting you. He had always said these types of things in passing, not realizing how much they affected you. You nod and take your original place in the room making him smile. "Perfect, as always." He whispers to himself before returning to the sketch.

After about an hour and a half, your legs grow tired. "Benedict, might we take a break? My legs are getting achy." You say, and he meets your eyes. "Of course, I shall have the maids bring us some tea and you can tell me more about your time in France." He says, gesturing with his arm for you to sit on the chaise that sits by the window.

You do so gladly, taking in the image of him wiping his hands of charcoal. You blush at the thought of the feeling of those hands around your waist, or cupping your cheeks. God, this is torture. You wait for him to come back, which only takes a moment.

He sits down next to you and offers his hand. You look down at it and smile softly, taking it in your own just like you used to. What happens next, you could have never predicted in a million years. He lifts your gloved hand to his mouth and kisses the back of it. Your eyes widen and you open your mouth to speak, but you are quickly cut off by him slowly kissing up your arm.

"Benedict stop." You whisper in a tone that is a far cry away from the authority you wished for that statement to have. He doesn't, he presses kisses to your elbow, continuing to work up your arm. "Benedict, I am serious we mustn't." You say, a bit firmer as tears gather in your eyes, but he still does not relent. "Benedict!" You shout, ripping your arm away and standing up.

"Oh please." He scoffs. "Do not tell me you did not wish for me to do just that." He says, standing up with you and stepping close. "Have you gone utterly mad?! I am to be married by the end of the month!" You shout in return. You wish for nothing more than for him to continue but he cannot. You have a man to marry, a sister to set free. Nothing can come between that.

"You do not love him! You have told me those words exactly!" He shouts back and you shake your head, beginning to walk out of the room. You get all of two feet away before he grabs your arm, pulling you to his chest. He leans down, his breath ghosting over your ear. "I have loved you since we were children, Y/N." Your heart shatters when he whispers the word love in your ear.

"You cannot do this now." You say, trying to tug out of his grasp but he keeps his hold tight. "I have to say it now, I have been a fool. I have kept my mouth shut for far too long, but I can save you. I can take you far away from this place, I-" He starts, but you are quick to cut in.

"How could you possibly save me, Benedict?!" You shout, finally getting away. You turn around and look at him dead in the eye, your eyes beginning to water. "By running away?! We cannot! My sister will be left to deal with that woman all by herself and then my fate will be hers! I cannot let that happen!" You shout, tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I left and came back married and suddenly you gain the confidence to say this now?! It is far too late!" You sob. His face softens and he brings you into a tight embrace, one hand at the back of your head while the other runs up and down your back. "You are too late. Why did you wait?" You sob into his chest and he says nothing, allowing you to cry.

He places his chin on the top of your head as he rubs your back, rocking you from side to side. "You must think of yourself, Y/N. Your happiness. Your father left you his money for a reason, you know that." He whispers after a few minutes of listening to your sobs. You look up at him and he cups your cheek with the hand that was on your head. "Your mother, however terrifying she may be, does not hold the power over you she once did. Your father made sure of that." He continues.

"You own the estate, you have the money, and you can make your own decisions. You just need to tell her, you must be brave." He whispers as your crying calms. "But what if she... what if she does something to Lucy-" "She will not. She will not have the power to." He interrupts.

Lucy is capable, you know that much is true. You also know that he is right, you have the money and the house, and therefore you have the power. A final gift from your father that you were too scared to realize. You look up at him and before you can think twice about it, you press your lips to his.

He smiles into the kiss and pulls back after a moment, pressing his forehead to yours. "You are a fool, Benedict Bridgerton." You whisper, taking a deep breath. He chuckles. "Perhaps, but I am also a fool who wishes for nothing more than to marry you." He says and you smile. "I shall do what you suggest, what my father meant for me to do." You whisper and he nods. "And I will be right there with you." He murmurs before kissing you again.

After an hour of warm tea and affectionate words, he takes you back to your estate. You go back and forth with your mother for an hour, trying to be kind, but it is when she starts the insults that you snap. You threaten to sell the house in France and never speak to her ever again, let alone give her any money, and she quickly shuts up.

You write Noele and the engagement is called off within the week. For once you thank the man's hatred of you, for it made him all too eager to get away. The engagement between you and Benedict is announced the next week, and the wedding is planned for two months in advance. The ton gossips about the timeline, of course, but the two of you pay no mind. You have both waited far too long to get married, why wait even longer?

You lie restless in bed the week before your marriage, your thoughts filled with nothing but him. The kiss you shared when he confessed running through your mind, sending tingles between your legs. The hot feeling that overcomes your body makes you want to do the things you saw men and women do in the paintings that lined the walls of your favorite salon in Paris.

Sex. You knew what it was, anyone who spent more than five seconds in Paris knew what it was. You had fantasized about it before, only ever with Benedict. You wanted his hard cock buried deep inside of you for hours on end, you wanted his head between your thighs, your lips around his length. You wanted all of it, yet he had insisted on waiting until your wedding night.

You sigh, tugging on the silk sheets and rubbing your thighs together to try and ease the dull ache that settled in your core, whining in frustration when the feeling did not go away. You hear the tapping on your window, almost as if it was hailing in the middle of May.

You stand and walk to the large window that leads out to a view of the garden. A pebble hits the glass and you jump, placing a hand over your now racing heart, and look down at the garden. You grin when you find your fiance looking up at you with the crooked grin that has such a hold on your heart. You open the window and lean out.

"What on earth are you doing down there?" You laugh, leaning your elbows on the window and placing your chin on your hand. "You are meant to say something about Romeo." He calls back, his grin only widening as you giggle more. "I shall not. You must answer my question." You smile.

"You are no fun." He groans, dropping the pebbles on the ground. "I wished to see you. I have been nothing but restless tonight and I thought I would spend that restlessness with you. Might I come up?" He calls, already beginning to climb the lattice that lines the estate walls. You nod, even though he did not wait. "I am quite restless as well." You sigh, watching him climb. "You do not need to sneak, mother is already back in France and Lucy cares not of what we do." You hum as he climbs through the window.

He wraps his arms around you and picks you up. "It is more romantic to sneak through the window." He murmurs in your ear as you wrap your legs around his waist. "It was very romantic, I promise you." You whisper as he lays you back on the bed, stripping down to his trousers before sliding into bed with you and pulling the covers up over the both of you.

He nuzzles your neck and places his hands on your hips, pulling you close. It's quite an innocent gesture, but it sends that tingle you were experiencing earlier to your core. Arousal begins to dampen your panties and you press yourself against him, silently asking for more.

He smirks against your skin when you rub up against him. He presses an open-mouthed kiss to your neck before leaning back to look at you. "It seems you were restless for the same reason as I was, love." He teases, which makes you blush. He chuckles and cups your cheek, running his thumb along your cheekbone. "Might I request something of you?" He whispers.

"Of course." You return, leaning into his touch and closing your eyes. "I wish to make love to you, now. I cannot wait one more second, and I most certainly cannot wait until our wedding night" He whispers in your ear, kissing the skin below it.

He makes a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, making you moan softly in response. "Please." Is all you can manage as he bites down on the skin of your shoulder, making sure to leave a mark. He grins and pulls back, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. You return it eagerly, wrapping your arms around his neck. This time, a moan slips past his lips and his hands tighten around your hips.

He moves his hands down your legs, slipping them under your nightgown and cupping your breasts. You whine and break the kiss, pressing your forehead to his as you pant. He watches the look in your eye as his thumbs swipe over your hardened nipples, making your mouth fall open. He groans at the guttural moan that escapes you before taking his hands away and throwing back the covers.

"Benedict please." You breathe, grasping at his arms. He grins but shakes his head. "Patience my love. It will feel so much better if I tease you." He opines, unbuttoning his britches. You gasp when they come off, leaving him in nothing. His cock stands proud against his stomach, it is big and thick, much bigger than you imagined. You grow antsy with the fear that it will not fit inside.

He senses your apprehension and bends down, peppering your face with kisses. "Worry not, dearest, you need only to tell me to stop or to wait and I shall." He whispers, patting your hips as a signal to sit up, which you do. "I will get you plenty warmed up for me, I promise." He breathes against your skin, making you shiver.

He lifts your nightgown up and over your head, throwing it to where the rest of his clothes lay against the floor. He groans at the sight of you in nothing but your panties, his cock twitching with delight. He unties the ribbons that hold your underwear up on your hips, throwing them across the room before capturing your peaked nipple in his mouth.

Your head shoots back and you cry out, laying back on the bed. He follows, situating himself on top of you without releasing your nipple. His tongue swirls around the hardened bud as his other hand cups your other breast, his thumb and pointer finger tweaking your nipple.

Arousal drips down your thighs as you cant your hips up, desperate for more. He growls when the soft skin of your stomach meets his already weeping cock. He pulls back from your nipple, moving the hand that is not occupied with your breast down to your hips. He presses down on your hip bone and you whine when you realize you have lost your ability to brush against him.

"You are doing so well, darling. You mustn't move, it is making me want to bury my cock inside you right now and fuck you until you see stars." You moan at the thought, wrapping your arms around his neck to bring him into another kiss. He grins against your mouth, letting you kiss him for a moment before pulling away and moving his hand off of your breast.

He moves that hand down to your hips, pressing down with just as much force as the other did. The one that was on your hips moves to your breast just as he takes your nipple into your mouth, giving your breasts the same treatment as before.

You are a moaning mess beneath him, your thighs and cunt soaked with your arousal as sweat drips down your neck. "Please, Ben... Need more. I... more." You whine, tugging on his hair. He lifts his head and smiles, making your heart flutter. He can go from a growling, groaning man to a loving partner in just seconds. It's intoxicating.

"Tell me where you need it, sweet girl." He whispers, kissing down your stomach and stopping just above your pubic hair, inhaling almost lewdly with a groan. You whine and your cheeks turn rosy with embarrassment.

"Between my legs..." You whisper, pressing your face into the pillow as the embarrassment of wanting him so much washes over you. He pats your thigh gently, making you look down at him. "Louder. Do not be ashamed. I want it just as much as you do." He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your abdomen.

You smile softly, warmth blooming in your chest. You sigh and let out a breathy moan as he sucks on the skin just above where you wish he would. "I want you between my legs, Benedict. Please. I.. have thought of nothing else for nights." You beg, loudly now as his kisses turn sloppy.

He groans at the thought of you laying in bed, unable to sleep because of the thought of him fucking you, of him pleasing you with his fingers or your tongue, with your hand between your legs. Rubbing at your swollen clit until you come calling his name. He wishes for nothing else than to watch.

He runs his fingers through your soaked folds, the both of you moaning in unison. He rubs his nose through your patch of hair before pressing his tongue against your engorged clit, sucking and swirling as he pushes one of his long fingers into your body, making you cry out.

You silently thank God that Lucy insisted on sleeping in the room downstairs, as now you do not have to silence the steady stream of moans that slip from your lips as he sucks and fingers you into a headspace you have never been to.

You clench around his fingers as he slips another one into your tight hold, his tongue still swirling around your clit. Your hand shoots down to grab at his hair when he starts thrusting and curling his fingers into your body, the other grasping the silk sheets that rest across your bed.

You scream his name when his fingers find a spongey spot inside you that sends a bolt of pleasure right to your already abused clit, and you see stars. You gush down your thighs and his chin, and he pulls out his fingers. He peeks up from below, wiping his face with the back of his hand before sucking your juices from his fingers.

The sight sends you back into a state of arousal so strong that all you can think about is his big cock ripping you open as he fills you to the hilt. He grins when he sees the look in your eye, coming back up so he can give you another open-mouthed kiss. You wrap your legs around his waist and he moans deeply, an almost feral noise coming from somewhere deep inside him.

He breaks the kiss and presses his forehead to yours once more, kissing your nose. "Can I?" He gusts, his breath hot against your skin. "Please." You whisper back, taking one of his hands in yours, the other resting upon his shoulder.

That is all the incentive he needs, he slowly pushes into your body, groaning loudly at how tight you are. You cry out, your nails digging into the skin of his shoulder. He bottoms out and moves his forehead to rest on your shoulder, waiting for you to adjust. God he's so close already, the thought of being the first and only one to take you enough to make him come, but he holds back.

After a moment he looks up at you and you nod, needing him to fuck you hard. That is just what he does. He sets a brutal pace, his thighs meeting yours as your ankles rest on his hips. You cry out and squeeze his hand as his tip nudges the same spot his fingers do, making you clench.

"Fuck." He grunts, picking up the pace as he chases his release. He pounds into you now, making you nothing but a moaning piece of putty ready to be molded by his hands. "Benedict- Again.. I'm going to..." You whine and he nods, pressing his lips to yours as his thumb finds your clit.

Your back arches as you reach your peak once more, dragging your nails down his back and leaving angry red marks on his skin. That is what sends him over the edge, spilling his seed deep inside of you before collapsing on top of you.

After a moment he pulls out and rolls onto his back, catching his breath before standing up and walking to the bathroom, leaving you on the bed to do the same. You rest your arms over your eyes as your breathing calms. He comes back with a washcloth and cleans up the mess he made before snuggling up to you in bed.

You flip onto your side and snuggle up to him, his arms encircling your body immediately. He presses a kiss to your forehead and traces the ridges of your spine with his fingers. "I love you." You whisper, already half asleep.

He smiles at the sight of you drowsy and flushed, his hand coming up to stroke your hair. "And I love you, my heart." He whispers back, closing his eyes and quickly following you into slumber.

Oh, what a joy it is to finally feel at home.

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lightfeltmemories · 5 months

Text

episode one: phantom troupe and romance; headcanons from least toxic, to most toxic

characters include: chrollo, machi, pakunoda, shizuku, uvogin, shalnark, feitan, phinks, bonolenov, kortopi, hisoka, illumi, nobunaga, franklin. (not in order)

tw's: nsfw but nothing explicit, mentions of non-con, spoilers for the deaths of pakunoda, shalnark, kortopi and uvogin, toxic relationships, lovebombing, mentions of torture (not on reader), mentions of cheating, mentions of reader's death,

notes: a completely self indulgent post, you can probably tell who im biased towards by how long certain sections are.

because this contains mentions of nsfw, do not interact if you are under 18, you will be blocked if you do !! also, do not leave negative comments please, they will be deleted :)

pakunoda

out of everyone, guaranteed, she'll be the best partner out of everyone else, you might even end up shocked that she's apart of the troupe if it ever comes to you finding out.

she's a darling, spoils and cares for you like anyone else, a great listener and partakes in your interests in hobbies, its (almost) like a fairytale by how the relationship is, the troupe knows you but you don't know them! and she wants to keep it that way, of course still she's a murderer, so it would break her if you were to have found out about everything, she vowed to never let you know or even have you close to knowing about what she does, but you just can't help but wonder what she's doing when she's away for long periods of time.

until it comes to her death.

now, you eventually find out that she died from a close friend of hers, but he knows paku doesn't want you to know about the troupe, so, he's a bit vague, and a bit creepy.

nobunaga

personally out of everyone else, i feel like nobunaga would be other most normal when it comes to relationships, but then again, he's an enigma, he doesn't strike me as the type to be the best boyfriend literally ever or very very toxic, i feel like out of everyone else, if you're looking for someone to be in a semi normal relationship with, nobunaga is your best shot, but of course, he's a part of the phantom troupe, and any member apart of it isn't exactly the best partner by default.

he's still a murder and thief, like all members i believe that he would definitely steal things that remind him of you, he'd most definitely kill for you.

unlike someone like feitan or machi, he doesn't exactly have a problem with being vulnerable when you get to know him, he'll tell you about himself, and of course, because he's a criminal he can't exactly tell you what he does for a living, but can't bring himself to lie about it either, he's just hoping that one day, if you know, you won't leave or judge him for it, his childhood isn't exactly all sunshines and lolipops, y'know?

he'll love you from the ends of the earth, but he definitely won't let you walk all over him, quick to put your in your place and won't allow you to manipulate him, he won't lie to you (about trivial things, at least) so why should you? (who knows, maybe you're apart of a criminal organization and is pretty much a wanted criminal yourself :P)

bonolenov

similar to nobunaga i think if you want something that's somewhat normal, bonolenov is also a nice choice! (100% not putting him up so high because we don't really know that much about him it's totally because he would be a decent partner! honest!)

for one, you would definitely be introduced to usual romantic gestures and advances that come from his tribe, he'll tell you all about how things work with him, he'll do dances he learned when they were still here for you to show how much he adores you, and dresses you in garments that resemble such from his tribe, it's pretty cute, honestly!

now, what concerns him a bit is.. how you'll react without his bandages, he's not exactly sexy like chrollo but (to me, TO MEEEEEE) he's not the ugliest thing in the world! he just hopes that eventually if you see him in his true form, you don't scream and run away at the sight of him, its okay if you do! ..... kind of.

and if you don't, oh you'll mean so much to him!

kortopi

now, here's another one we don't know much about! but i'll try my best either way (i just want to contribute to the lack of attention him and bono get in these spaces.) he's another somewhat normal one, he also doesn't strike me as the type to be the absolute worst, but still is apart of a troupe of murderers and thieves.

similar to everyone else, he'll steal and kill for you (idk if this guy even has a body count but lets pretend he does.) and is a lot more open to being vulnerable than some other members.

now, nine times out of ten you'll be taller than him because this guy is even shorter than feitan, so, he'll definitely be wearing your t-shirts and hoodies, and he ain't complaining about it!

and eventually, he dies, now, honestly, something told you that kortopi seemed... like the odd one out when it came to the troupe, he doesn't seem like the type to be apart of... that! you better hope that hisoka doesn't care about you, or things are gonna turn ugly faster than you can blink.

uvogin

he's big (as hell), but he's sweeter (you know why they're in bold italics) than the others twice his size.

physically the strongest, you're rather lucky to have him has your partner, if someone won't stop messing with you, they're dead within a millisecond, or at least scared off since you know.. he isn't exactly built like the average guy and having someone that's eight foot fucking two walking up on you not really excited to see you is quite terrifying, depending on his mood they'll sometimes get away.... sometimes.

enough of that, how is it like when it's just the two of you? sitting on the couch or laying in bed watching movies together, his arm around you, it's basically a pillow! a hard ass pillow at that.

not the most vulnerable, he's not some weird incel who see's women as sex toys or anything, he's decently capable of being in a normal relationship, you won't see each other often sadly, but when you do, he'll pay 95% of his attention towards you, he'll even let you know straight up that he won't know when he'll get back, but he will! ... until he doesn't..

ah yes, his death at the hands of kurapika, how will you react? hell, how would kurapika react to your existence? something tells me that kurapika might kill you too, send you right off with him, or, in a rather strange twist of events, he might try to fuck you and take you to the other side, not in the way of barging into your house and straight up non con, nah, more like a get to know you then get in your pants type of way, uvo won't be there to protect you now would he? of course the latter is highly unlikely, but to be honest it's kind of fun to think about.

and now that you think of it... you don't even know what uvo was doing or where he was going, you choose how you want to react to how you found out about his troupe business.

shizuku

another woman! she's similar to another person right below her! she looks cute, but she's anything but!...... sort of.

she's not the best or worst partner, she's pretty normal, a bit distant but it's not something you can't manage, maybe she just needs some space and you're overwhelming her, but something that really gets to you is her forgetfulness.

at first, she'll forget things such as your birthday or your anniversary, but going further into the relationship, she becomes less and less forgetful (she might even remember things that you don't even remember.)

what exactly do you guys do together? well, she does try to partake in your interests, and does try to get things you like!

franklin

he's similar to uvo, he's big, he's actually nicer than he appears.

what makes him so low is.. well to be honest i don't know, i don't feel like he could be high up but not so low, so, this is the perfect spot for him.

for one he does have a bit of an anger problem, not as bad as phinks, but he doesn't mind a slight argument, good thing he wont assault you, and is quick to make up for the argument.

i don't know how to write him, so, please forgive me for how small this passage is. :(

shalnark

we're starting to get into uh... strange territory, he looks kind, and seems normal, but he's anything but that, he's not the most toxic but he also isn't the most caring and understanding either, similar to nobunaga he's kind of an enigma.

he's a love bomber and very good at manipulating, definitely takes advantage of his rather cute looks, he'll figure out what you're insecure about and compliment those things specifically, i do think he is capable of loving someone genuinely, but he sometimes does things without realizing that they aren't really normal, maybe he's getting his troupe personality mixed up with the one he has with you.

he does come off as sweet at first, brings you flowers and takes you on some rather expensive dates (an uncanny feeling creeps up on you about how the waiters act, but you don't pay much attention to it.) and sometimes he's more distant and a little bit aloof, you take this as him needing his space.

he's not abusive, but he isn't the absolute best partner, there's definitely better out there.

his death doesn't hit you as hard as the others but it was still devastating, you best hope hisoka doesn't come for you, and if he does, you hope he swiftly kills you, because you really don't want this murder clown to take an interest to you.

phinks

phinks is another one 'that's kind of odd to me, i don't want to judge a book by its cover and say "yeah he's a piece of shit!!" but again, he's a lot better in comparison to anyone below.

he's similar to shalnark in quite a few ways, one, he does things that kind of makes you think he's a bit of an odd ball, he's intimidating to look at and is the second strongest physically in the troupe, so you're lucky to have someone like him if you're looking for protection.

i don't see him as the type to take you out to fancy restaurants and bring you flowers, stuff like that is a bit too sappy for him, he shows other ways like giving you thinks you like or taking you to like carnivals or other fun events.

his main problem is his anger issues, he won't physically harm you especially if you don't use nen, but he's not above arguing with or yelling at you, he doesn't do it often, but he might call you an idiot or a bitch if you take him to that point.

the relationship is somewhat normal besides that.

chrollo

chrollo is weird, some say he's loving, caring, blah blah blah while some might say he's the exact opposite.

for one he is charming, he's a relatively good looking man, he's intelligent, and is looking for someone who's also intelligent.

i feel like chrollo definitely has a type, he likes people who are elegant, he wants someone that'll make him look good while he's in public, he doesn't care much for how people view the relationship outside of that, he also looks for someone with a personality he doesn't want someone who looks good yes, but is boring to be around, someone he can have a deep conversation with and talk about his interests with.

for one, you will not know about the troupe's existence, until he is 100% ready to tell you, which will definitely take a while, but he's confident that the troupe and himself will protect you from anyone who tries to avenge.

now, what makes him so low on this list? well, he's quite manipulative, a gaslighter, too, what do you mean you saw me with another woman? it's all for business, i'm just trying to steal her nen ability.

he does want to be a good partner, but this relationship is kind of a "too good to be true" type, something is happening behind closed doors and the thought is too persistent to ignore.

illumi

this guy is... strange, for one, his beady ass eyes make him look like a bug (affectionately), and section.. his very warped perception of what love even is.

i agree with the fandom that he has a breeding kink no doubt, his intention on dating is marriage, and you will bear his children, no ifs, ands or buts.

you'll meet his family but you'll never meet the troupe, he doesn't want you getting involved in fighting (he might have someone teach you some basic self protection) because he doesn't want you to die, that'll fuck with him... kind of, you're basically trapped in the mansion.

his overprotection is toxic on its own, you don't have that much freedom, you can't go shopping unless he's with you (or if he can't be there, one of his servants will accompany you), you're never truly alone unless he's away, and when he's here, things are no better, he's distant and cold, there's not much to talk about with him, sure, he loves you, but doesn't know how to express it much.

machi

one out of three toxic ass individuals, one of them consists of machi.

lets start off with the fact that she's cold hearted, as hell, if you cry in front of her she'll look at you like you're crazy, if she's really in that mood she'll tell you that you look stupid and you need to suck it up.

not good with physical touch or romance, who knows how the two of you managed to continue the relationship, she does leave flowers for you but won't tell you that they're from her, won't admit that she's the one who got them for you.

i feel like similar to a certain clown, she won't care much for you if you aren't either powerful or capable of protecting yourself in some way.

but all she's really doing is putting up barriers, she's actually caring in her own weird way, she'll still be there for you, patch up your wounds if you managed to get cut or stabbed and would probably mourn your death.

hisoka

were getting lower, and a certain sadist who loves torture is worse, but somehow, hisoka is slightly better than him in some way or another.

for one, hisoka probably won't be that interested in you if you aren't powerful, it would be worse if you were a regular civilian, he'll take that as an opportunity to take advantage of you sexually, physically, psychologically and mentally, and the relationship will be literal hell..

but, lets say you are pretty powerful, dare i say a troupe member yourself, he won't be as interested in fighting you as much as he would chrollo, but he would be interested in... other ways.

how you managed to get into a relationship with this freak is unclear, but you two one day just.. hooked up, and it all goes downhill from here.

he has no problem killing you if he gets tired of you, he already killed two and plans on killing the rest of the spiders, why not kill another? especially you? or, in an alternate scenario where he does manage to kill off all the spider, you're the only one who's left, this can go two ways, one, he can fuck you one last time then kill you, or, he takes you with him! if you managed to have a lasting impression on him, that is.

outside of sex, he just isn't a good partner, he's probably the only one on this list that's probably willing to cheat on you (don't you dare get back at him, both you and your lover will die) he's manipulative as hell, he doesn't necessarily care about how you feel and he'll provoke you just to get a reaction out of you.

feitan

and last but not least, feitan, oh boy, good luck to you for managing to have this man attracted to you. (im a feitan girlie, so this one might be a big longer than the rest)

for one, he'll hate your rotten guts for making him feel this way, for making him feel so weak, so emotional... he might even contemplate on killing you, but when that time comes he can't bring himself to do it.

i don't want to say yandere is his default since he doesn't really know how to properly love, because i do think he has some potential, but it does make sense for him, because there has to be something about you that makes you interested in him, maybe you're his polar opposite? maybe you're also a sadist?

he's not the most romantic partner, he doesn't want to come off as vulnerable, or sappy, so, what considers as a date to him? he's the type to probably take you to a cemetery at night as a form of a date.

he will not allow the troupe to know you or you to know them, for one he's going to be teased from hell and back for finally managing to pull someone and second while it appears that he doesn't care for you much, him protecting you from them is his way of showing you that he cares.

he can't find himself being vulnerable, he might teach you his language if you're up for it, and he might bring you some things he knows you like, but thats kind of it, also he won't force you to see him torture people.. unless you betray him in a way.

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buckybarnesb-tch · 6 months

Note

In your last post you said about Klaus getting turned on by watching the reader eat?

Could we have more on/about that in a separate one-shot if you have the time? 💕

One More Bite -Klaus M.

I combined this request with another one I had gotten in my PM’s for Klaus’ mate giving him a blowjob when he’s in his wolf form, so fair warning on that.

If that is something that the original requester isn’t okay with and you don’t want to read this, send me another request and I’ll write something else for you as I understand you may not want to read something like this because it’s for such a specific kind of reader I assume (even though I am one of those readers).

Warning: Severe Warning on this fic! This fic contains Smut while our favorite Hybrid is in his wolf form! Blow-Job warning! Klaus becoming aroused by watching his Mate eat food. Also brief mentions of a school shooting when talking about the Scream movie series.

Sitophilia: Arousal involving food

Don’t Like=Don’t Read

Dead Dove:Do Not Eat!

Klaus has no clue where it came from.

It started when he was in Alarics body in the lunch room, watching over his Doppelgänger and her friends was proving entertaining to him…until he saw her. Y/n was a friend of theirs that didn’t seem to be all that involved in their Supernatural affairs, blatantly ignoring them as they spoke about the immortal Hybrid that sat 2 tables away possessing their History teacher.

She was a beautiful girl, one of the sweetest the 1000 year old man had ever seen, he swore it was true with how kind and naive she seemed to be. Klaus felt the need to protect her and ensure her safety, swearing to himself he would leave her out of all of this but just as he was about to leave the lunchroom he found himself captivated by her once more. It took a bit too long to notice that he was staring at the girl as she ate her lunch.

Klaus had never really been fascinated by watching someone eat before and it was an odd thought all together, but he couldn’t deny his enjoyment at watching her…he also couldn’t deny the raging erection in his pants that he willed away as strongly as he could as he wasn’t in his pants or his body and he was Not dealing with that!

He had gone to the front office later that day, finding her file and reading as much about her as he could. Her name was Y/F/n, she was on the honor roll with mostly all A’s and a few B’s, he found her address as well as the fact that she is emancipated and living in that apartment alone. He looked more into that, finding out that her parents had died a few months prior (when Damon had released the tomb vampires) and she lived on money they left as well as what she made working in a movie theater in the next town.

He found himself hating the idea of his girl being forced to work a job on top of going to school and getting amazing grades, only to come home to an apartment all alone with no family and no real friends as that Scooby Gang doesn’t seem to be very close with her. Klaus can’t explain his feelings, his attraction, or why he wants to take care of her so badly but he knows he doesn’t want her working this hard so that she can be all alone and in pain.

Klaus ditched Alarics body as soon as he was able and while his witches were dealing with the things he needed for his curse, he made his way to the next town and into the little movie theater. He walked into the theater and up to the snack counter where she was sat, reading something on her phone before jumping up as she saw him.

‘Good afternoon sir, what can I get for you to make your movie experience better?’ She asked, a smile on her face as if anyone could enjoy this job everyday. He hated seeing the dark circles under her eyes that she tried to cover with makeup, he wanted to see her in a comfortable bed, sleeping as much as she needed, wanted to watch her enjoy breakfast in bed with the knowledge that she didn’t have to go to work or school or do anything other than be with him. He found himself staring down at her as he imagined feeding her that breakfast while his cock was still buried deep inside of her cu- ‘Sir?’

‘Sorry, lost in thought there.’ He chuckled and she did as well.

‘I do it all the time, no worries. Can I get you something to eat?’ He looked as if he was considering it before responding.

‘Actually, I would love to get you something to eat.’ She looked up at him confused and he thought it was adorable. ‘Would you like to see a movie with me?’ She was shocked by this, clearly, and didn’t respond very quickly. ‘What time do you get done?’ He asked as if he didn’t know it was in 5 minutes.

‘Oh, I’m done in about 5 minutes. I have to get home and study for a test though-‘

‘Aw, let yourself relax a bit. Let me treat you to a movie, you can get whatever you want to eat, and you can pick the movie.’ The blush that spread over her face was adorable and he loved every second of it.

‘Really? Even if I pick a chick flick?’ He nodded, seeing a coworker walking out to take over her shift. ‘Okay, I want to see 5 Nights at Freddy’s…let me go get changed.’ Her smile lit up Klaus’ whole world and he smiled as he watched her walk away, her cute little ass nearly on display in the short skirt she had to wear as a uniform. Klaus only waited about 5 minutes for her to return after getting the tickets (and experiencing the man’s shocked face as he bought all the tickets in the entire theater so that they would be alone), wearing a dark tank top and fluffy pajama pants. ‘Sorry about the clothes, I was prepared to go home and get in bed.’ She explained but he waved her off.

‘Not a problem, next time I’ll wear pajamas too. I’m Nik, by the way.’ He teased, seeing her eyes light up at the idea of a second date.

‘Y/n, nice to meet you Nik.’

‘Alright, what do you want to eat?’ This was a dine-in theater, and while Klaus remembered when theaters sold popcorn, soda and candy exclusively, he found himself happy about the idea of providing his girl a good meal and getting to watch her eat it.

‘Oh, I’ll just get a small popcorn-‘

‘You just got off work, you must be hungry. Please let me get you a meal? Anything you want, if you don’t choose I’ll choose for you and I’ll be forced to feed it to you.’ He teased, wrapping his arm around her waist to test the water of how she felt about him touching her and to his surprise she leaned into his side, allowing his hand to stay on her waist. She was attracted to him too, he could practically smell it, and it made the Hybrid truly happy to know that his girl at least liked him as well.

‘Fine, okay. Hey Kyle, can I get an order of cheese fries, please?’

‘And?’ She shot him a teasing glare before rolling her eyes.

‘And a large order of chicken tenders with extra honey mustard. And since we’re bending this guys wallet, I’ll also have a large chocolate brownie milkshake-with extra chocolate sauce…I hope you like chocolate cause I won’t drink all of that, it’s huge.’ Klaus just grinned as he handed over his card. ‘Wait! You’re not getting anything?’

‘A bucket of popcorn too, please?’ He ordered and she stared at him as he paid for the wildly overpriced food. He carried the popcorn, allowing her to drizzle butter all over it along with salt before they went and found their seats, a girl bringing Y/n’s food about 10 minutes later just as the movie started.

‘I can’t believe there’s no one else in here, especially this late.’

‘Is this a popular movie?’ He asked, genuinely having no idea what it’s about. Klaus hadn’t come here with any intention of watching a movie, he just wanted to be with his girl so to him, the movie didn’t make one single fucking difference.

‘Oh yeah, it’s based on a horror game that I loved, plus Matthew Lillard is in this so I want to see it desperately. People really believe that his character is just Stu from the Original Scream a few years after he “died”. Which he 100% didn’t by the way.’ He could see how sure she was of this and enjoyed her dedicated belief to a movie she clearly loved.

‘How are you so sure he lived?’ He wondered and she turned her body to him more, ready to explain her theory.

‘Okay, so he was supposed to be the killer in the third scream movie! He was cast and everything but they had to scrap the whole plot. It was going to be based on a school shooting but that was right as Columbine happened so they changed the whole movie. Respect for them not doing that, 100%, but it proves that canonically he is absolutely alive. I don’t really get the connection to this movie, but if people believe it then why not?’ He nodded along, enjoying himself as much she seemed to enjoy these horror plots.

‘You’re a horror movie girl, aren’t you?’

‘Yup. Which is weird cause I used to be terrified of all scary movies but now I love them. We should have a horror movie marathon, clearly you haven’t seen the Scream movies and if you haven’t seen them, what else haven’t you seen?!’

‘Most of them, I’m not much of a TV watcher. I mostly just paint in my free time, I’ve seen a few though. The one in the mask who tries to kill his sister.’

‘Michael Myers, Halloween.’ She said, instantly knowing what he was talking about.

‘The Hick who has a chainsaw and wears people’s faces?’

‘Leatherface, Texas Chainsaw Massacre.’

‘The demon people, one of them has pins all over his head?’

‘Pinhead, HellRaiser. Truly an amazing movie, probably one of my favorite plot lines.’ He was amazed at how she knew every one of these from just the simple descriptions, he knew they were probably popular but it was so cute how sure and excited she was.

‘And the guy with knives for hands.’ Her eyebrows raised as he said this.

‘I’m going to assume you mean Freddy Kruger from Nightmare on Elm Street as we’re talking about horror movies and not Edward Scissorhands which is a sad movie that ripped my soul from my body. It a great movie but it’s sad as hell. Why are people so mean to everyone just because they’re different?’ He shrugged at this.

‘People will always judge what they don’t understand, especially when it’s other people. It’s always been that way.’ He knew from personal experience and Y/n seemed to hear the emotion in his voice because she reached over and took his hand in hers.

‘People suck. Cheese fry?’ She offered, holding out the box and he took one, watching as she bit into a couple as the lights went down. He was thankful for his vampire vision as he leaned back into the seat and kept his eyes on her. She was fascinated by the movie but he was fascinated by her. Klaus watched as she ate, finally getting to watch her eat a meal that wasn’t a snack in a cafeteria. The idea that he had provided his girl food, a real meal (for seemingly the first time since he first saw her 3 days ago) was satisfying to say the least. He stared as she ate her fries, her tongue peeking out every now and again to lick the cheese from her lips, causing his cock to twitch every single time. The moan that came from her as she first bit into a piece of chicken had him fully hard and completely desperate, watching as her tongue licked the honey mustard from her finger, her lips wrapping around her thumb and sucking on it with a “pop” as she pulled it from her mouth. He was so lost in his thoughts as he watched her perfect little mouth, he didn’t even hear the words that came from it. ‘Nik? You okay?’

‘Hmm? Yes! Of course, I’m great…you’re so damn gorgeous, and it’s distracting.’ Her cheeks turned red as he said this and she couldn’t hide it from him.

‘You are really sweet…please tell me this isn’t some kind of weird joke.’ As she said this his mind was ripped from his fantasies, confused as to why she would think something like that.

‘What? That’s crazy, why would you-‘

‘You walked into a movie theater without a ticket, came up to the food counter and asked me out to then buy a ticket and buy me dinner. You’re either the oddest and luckiest man in the world considering I was finished my shift when you came in, or this was planned and someone put you up to it…I’m an 18 year old girl in high school on a date with a hot dude in his 20’s…you can at least imagine why I’m a bit skeptical?’ She looked sad and he hated that he had caused it…why is this girl getting to him like this?!

‘I’m sorry that you feel the need to be skeptical of someone asking you out. I admit, I planned to ask you on a date. I saw you yesterday and I thought you were lovely so I decided to ask you out, I thought taking you to a movie after work would be a nice idea, I also thought you would enjoy relaxing and watching a movie right after your shift-‘ A look of guilt overtook her eyes as she realized how much thought he put into asking her on this date and she felt horrible instantly.

‘Oh God…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m a bitch! I-‘

‘No you’re not, relax love. It’s okay, I can see why you were questioning the situation. I want to take you out again, I enjoy you already and I admittedly enjoy feeding you.’ Her eyes widened a bit but she couldn’t turn more red than she already was.

‘Oh…okay? I-I can honestly say I haven’t heard that one before but it sounds nice to me.’ She joked as he reached out, picking up a French fry and feeding it to her, grunting as she wrapped her lips around the tip of his thumb to get the melted cheese off of his skin, taking her time a bit too much as she did this and Klaus couldn’t hold in his groan.

‘Christ Y/n, you’re going to be the death of me.’

Through the rest of their date Klaus enjoyed feeding his girl nearly all of the food he had bought her, her insisting he at least have some as well and he brought her home that night, pressing his lips to hers sweetly and deciding he liked that his girl blushed 90% of their time together.

It was 3 days later that he found out why he was so desperate for this girl more than any other in his entire lifetime.

They had been texting almost all day every day along with him visiting her daily, Klaus getting everything ready to break his curse and actually getting it done with some help from his annoying elder brother (after he tried to murder him) before running off into the forest, his wolf determined to get where he needed to be.

It was the first time in 1000 years that Klaus could hear his wolf in his head the way other werewolves could. In the almost month he had been a Hybrid 1000 years ago he had gotten used to him being there and the curse had taken that from him.

As his paws slammed against the dirt, sprinting through the forest Klaus couldn’t help but wonder where they were going and he quickly got his answer.

“Mate!” The voice he had so sorely missed, growled roughly.

“Mate?” He wondered, having heard the term before but knowing that werewolves finding their mates was extremely rare. Maybe because they were so far out of time if Klaus’ mate being alive 1000 years after his human life was an indication. “Y/n is my mate…no wonder I’m so drawn to her!” A happy feeling was bubbling up in his chest as he realized he had finally found his mate, something he had hoped could exist for him since he found out soulmates were real for wolves.

“Need Mate! Need Mate Now!” The aggressive growl was almost concerning to him as his paws slowed to a trot when he arrived at the home he had been visiting his girl in for the last few days.

“She’s going to be scared! We can’t let her see us-Stop!” He snapped, feeling stupid that he was literally shouting at himself.

“Mate Knows! Mate Not Stupid!” His wolf snarled, sounding offended by the idea that she didn’t know who he was. He scratched at the apartment door and Klaus tried to control his body, to run back into the trees and away from her when the door swung open and his Mate looked down at him in shock.

‘I have to be honest, didn’t see this coming Nik. I mean I got the whole “Nik-Klaus” thing, Elijah told us all your real name but…what exactly do you want me to do with this?’ She asked, clearly entertained by him showing up in his wolf form. He whined, scratching at the doorframe which made her chuckle. ‘Okay, you can come in Niklaus-oh, okay.’ He walked into her apartment before she was even done speaking, hopping up onto the couch and staring up at her as if waiting for something to happen. ‘I seriously thought your interest in me was a joke when I realized who you were. Damon was making fun of me for falling for it…you’re actually into me, aren’t you? Cause I figure you being here right now means either you really like me or you plan to rip me to shreds in my own home. Which is it?’ She asked him and Klaus rolled his eyes, laying his head onto her lap when she sat down beside him on the couch. ‘Oh…good…I could get used to this.’

For the rest of the evening Klaus lounged on Y/n’s couch with her, watching horror movies from the extensive list that she had made of “Horror Movies Nik Needs to Watch”. He also enjoyed once again watching as she ate her dinner, or his personal favorite, watching her eat a pint of ice cream. God, he wants her tongue on his cock so badly, which she noticed as it was on display and larger than one would expect. To her credit, she ignored it for quite a long time, pretending it wasn’t there until the voice in his head made it physically impossible any longer. He was talking about all the different ways he wanted to bend her over and fuck her tight little cunt until she was begging him to stop, practically drooling over how her tongue peeked out and licked the ice cream off of the spoon, desperate to watch her lick his cream off of his hard cock which is around the time his member began leaking onto the blanket underneath him on the couch.

‘Nik?’ She questioned and he lifted his head from her lap to look up at her, as if pretending he hadn’t been staring at her this whole time. ‘Do you need help?’ He tilted his head as if asking her what she meant…she couldn’t possibly mean- ‘Do you need help with your…problem? It’s distracting and it seems to be getting worse.’

At this moment Klaus is happy that he is not just a vampire, but also in his wolf form and unable to show her how embarrassed he is with a look on (what would now be) his completely red face. He couldn’t stop the slight whine that escaped him before jumping down from the couch and trotting over to the door, scratching the wood and waiting for her to release him. “Let Mate Help!” That aggressive voice piped up again and he tried to shove it back down.

‘I didn’t mean I wanted you to leave, I…I mean if you wanted me to, I…it would have to be really fucking private, I mean if you ever told anyone I would skin you alive!’

Klaus suddenly felt his tail come to life, wagging around behind him like crazy as he released a small “yip” sound, moving back over and hopping up onto the couch again, nuzzling his nose against her cheek.

‘Ahh! It’s cold and wet!’ She was giggling and it was a sound that Klaus knew he adored from the moment he first heard it in the schools cafeteria. ‘I hope you realize that when you’re human again, I want an explanation as to why watching me eat gets you so worked up.’ She teased, moving from the couch to her knees. ‘Are all wolves cocks this big, or is it a werewolf thing?’

“Perfect Mate! Pretty, Perfect Mate! Need to Fuck Mate!” Klaus shook his head quickly as that thought came from nowhere, trying to keep his wolf from controlling anything else when suddenly his cock was enveloped into her hot mouth causing the pathetic sounding whine that exited him.

Her lips were stretched wide around his thick member as he now leaned back against the couch, wanting desperately to hold onto her hair but knowing that he can’t. He settled for one paw resting on the back of her head and couldn’t hold back the growl that burst from his chest, her tongue trailing over the head of his cock which nearly made him finish laughably fast.

You could have never convinced Klaus that this would be something that he wanted, in 1000 years the thought had crossed his mind, of course, but it wasn’t something that really got him off until now. Now, rutting into his mate was all he could think about like it was playing on a constant loop in his mind. As he looked down and saw her on her knees in front of him a content purr built up in his chest. He didn’t know how deeply he had longed for his mate, maybe if his wolf hadn’t been bound from him, he would have.

His thoughts were cut off by the choking noise that came from her as his large cock hit the back of her throat. “Perfect Mate! Perfect Little Tongue!” The growl that exploded from him made her eyes widen in fear before he was cumming in ropes into her mouth, her hand coming up to catch what leaked from her lips.

‘Fuck!’ She cursed after swallowing everything he had to give and looking up at him, as if an innocent little virgin who hadn’t just sucked his wolf cock into next year. ‘Do all werewolves cum that much?’ She giggled and he whined in response, leaning forward and licking her face. ‘I’m not doing that again until you prove how good you are in bed as a man first.’ She was teasing him but he nipped at her throat, catching the skin and watching a drop of blood rise to the surface. ‘Ow…shouldn’t you be out slaughtering innocent humans right now?’ He shook his head, which he’s sure looked like a dog shaking off the water after being in the rain. ‘But that’s what you were going to do before finding me?’ He didn’t respond to this, simply moving to lay down across her lap as she sat back on the couch. ‘It’s okay, I’ll still be here when you’re human again, go.’ He peeked up at her, from this angle the light made her look like an Angel sent from Heaven, as if a gift just for his devilish soul.

“Stay Close! Never Leave Mate! Never Again!” He really hopes that once he fucks his mate and makes her his that his wolf will calm down about her, he may be right but he’s intense.

‘Go Nik, I’ll be right here when you get back, I promise. I have nothing to do tomorrow, I will stay until you come and get me. When you do we’ll order take out and you can stare at me while I eat it.’ He sat up, making a questioning noise that he honestly didn’t know he could make. ‘I Promise.’ She insisted, jumping up and opening the back door towards the woods. ‘I won’t leave, I won’t open the door for anyone either. Get, before you get needier and decide to hump me in my sleep.’ He did as she said, leaving out the back door and taking one final look at her before he was gone, running through the woods as he had always longed for, every day of his immortal life since it was snatched away from him and for the first time in his very long life, knowing that he had someone to come back to.

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

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lagomoz · 5 months

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Proseka headcanons

-as rui’s childhood friend, nene has extensive fire safety knowledge

-shizuku is adopted, hence why she looks so different from shiho. she was adopted shortly before the moon rabbit event and it contributed to her clinginess

-shiho forgets this fact sometimes. she’ll casually mention something like shizuku got all mom’s good genes so unfair and ichika has to be. um. shiho

-kanade is mildly nearsighted/myopic but spends so much time at her computer she hasn’t noticed

-emu is buff. she climbs multiple stories without breaking a sweat and is canonically part of the swimming, handball and rhythmic gymnastic clubs, you can’t tell me she doesn’t have some muscle

-saki helps out as a human notepad for tsukasa, reminding of him things he would otherwise forget within 5 minutes

-the vocaloids also help. at first it was unnerving to have hatsune miku be an extension of his psyche that knows his darkest secret (stole saki’s candy when he was 6) but now his phone has a more reliable catgirl themed reminder system

-you know that classic nightmare of leaving the house without pants? tsukasa has legitimately done that as a kid. he forgor. (saki will never let him live it down)

-in the kamiyama student council/hall monitor room, an has put up at sign saying “_ days since last kamishiro incident”

-the shinonome siblings both figured out the other one was gay before they figured it out about themselves

-airi’s great at trivia from her time as a variety show star. she still can’t beat minori at idol trivia, though

-ena keeps a diary with fort knox level security. try to read it and you’ll lose a finger

-saki learned to crochet from the old ladies in the hospital

-shiho’s most treasured phenny is a somewhat lumpy crocheted phenny holding a very lumpy crocheted bass guitar

-tsukasa snores. he falls asleep in 10 seconds and sounds like a dying lawnmower

-mizuki has learned a small bit of french from their sister and uses it exclusively to teach rui and an how to swear in french

-emu still celebrates her grandfather’s birthday, even if he’s not there to celebrate with her

-ena is allergic to dogs, the middle point to airi’s cat allergy and akito’s dog phobia

-rui has various small scars from his experiments over the years, but nobody ever believes the real causes (rocket launcher, robot bite, exploding balloon animal, etc.) so he just makes up a new cause every time someone asks

-mmj! has had repeated incidents of minori and airi’s little siblings walking into frame when streaming at their houses. shiho understands the concept of a livestream but has still been caught failing at creeping past like that one new broadcast of the guy crawling along the floor

-kanade has pots & eds, this one I have a reason for look at her symptoms. chronic exhaustion, heat and cold intolerance, comorbid sleep issues and depression, dizziness when standing up, fainting after standing up, very pale skin, family history of medical issues, pain at normal physical activities, exercise intolerance, vertigo at mild exertion, she just fucking dies during the entire baseball event, I could go on. she canonically gets pain in her hands from opening a jar girl that is not just being out of shape that is physical disability. this one I will go conspiracy board on listen to me I’m right

-kohane ate bugs as a kid. an is horrified, toya is confused, akito is impressed

-ena and airi got in trouble in middle school because they’d keep starting fist fights in defense of the others honor. if they saw the other in a fight they’d jump in guns blazing no hesitation no questions ask ready to throw the fuck down

-vbs!rin and len were given a skateboard by an and then promptly had the skateboard confiscated by meiko for property destruction

-haruka is horrible with slang. she asks the stream chat what poggers means and immediately uses it completely wrong, killing all viewers on impact

-minori is torn between thinking it’s cute and wanting to die

-toya has been banned from arcades before because he made them lose too much money/they suspected he was cheating

-ena brought kanade over for girls night and nearly scared akito half to death because he went down to get a late night snack and there was some Ghastly Creature looming in his kitchen

-kohane's parents stick out like a sore thumb when going to her live shows. it mortifies her that everyone on vivid street can recognize them as the only milquetoast middle aged couple dressed in normal clothes loudly going YOU'RE DOING GREAT SWEETIE that don't know the first thing about music

-minori knows basic programming. she mostly uses it for forums, blogs, html, other web design things usually related to idols as a hobby, but she's become the groups designated anti-shizuku tech support

-mafuyu has always been able to see ghosts but after adults figured she was just playing pretend as a kid so she shrugged and figured it was normal and not worth bringing up again

-honami has one of those massive extended families and somehow keeps track of them all. at any given time cousin #57 can crawl out of the woodwork and she remembers their new job, favorite food, past three romantic relationships and list of allergic reactions

-mizuki does doll customizing as a hobby. they prefer making human sized clothes, but it's fun to make them miniature too. they've introduced shizuku to it and she loves it, but doesn't have the heart to do anything that would hurt the doll (sawing limbs off, dunking them in boiling water, shoving wires in them, etc.)

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roosterforme · 3 months

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Always Ever Only You Part 30 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley's excitement over the first set of ultrasound photos is unparalleled. He has never been so happy and so overwhelmed in his life, but at times he feels ill equipped to process everything that's happening. And the last thing he wants is to make you feel like he's growing tired of you.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, doctors, angst, fluff

Length: 6600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley wanted to be able to explain it to you, but he wasn't really sure he could. Sitting in the waiting room with you and anticipating an ultrasound to see the baby was honestly more than he ever thought he could have. You were more than he ever thought he deserved, and you wanted him anyway. But a baby?

He barely had a baseline to build off of. His dad died when he was young enough that he only had a handful of fleeting memories. The sound of a laugh. Two big hands lifting him up when he fell. A lullaby sung softly as he drifted off to sleep. Besides the photos that you and he collected from his storage unit and the stories his mom recounted when he was younger, that's all he had.

But he could practically hear his mom telling him how excited Nick Bradshaw was to be a dad. Bradley could remember the joy in her voice whenever she told him about the way she would catch father and son goofing off together. She was adamant that Bradley cried almost nonstop the first day his dad was gone for a deployment. And now Bradley desperately wished he could remember these little details that made up their relationship. Because soon, god willing, he was going to be on the other side of things: the parent who loves goofing off and singing, but who also gets deployed and causes tears to fall.

It was all too overwhelming for him to put into words, but as he laced his fingers with yours, he knew he didn't have to figure out how to do everything all at once.

"Are you nervous?" you asked.

Bradley looked at your open expression and immediately felt better. Talking through things and sharing his thoughts was the best way to keep from driving himself crazy while also letting you know how important you were. "Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

He still felt silly at times for sharing the notebooks with you, but you nodded with a little smile on your lips. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He reached for you and kissed you without hesitation. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now. And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Bradley let you bury your face against his neck. It didn't feel like you were hiding from him so much as giving him a taste of the kind of response he'd get if the two of you were alone. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and said, "I adore you, Roo. You'll be the best daddy."

Bradley almost laughed when you jolted in your seat after the nurse called your name. "Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

"Holy shit," Bradley replied, palms suddenly sweaty. Baby photos. He was on his feet in an instant, ready to go. And maybe this was what his dad felt like. Perhaps his parents didn't know what they were doing either, but rather they just counted themselves lucky to go along for the ride. He wished one of them had left him a notebook.

You were smiling up at him as he reached for your hand again, and your fingers felt sure and steady all wrapped up with his. "I'm excited, too," you whispered, answering your own question from earlier while he ran his thumb along your rings. "And maybe a little nervous."

"I'm right here," he promised as the two of you followed the nurse into a room filled with equipment. "I'm not going anywhere."

He kissed you and then begrudgingly let go of your hand when the nurse gave you a hospital gown to change into. As she left the room with the promise that your doctor would be in shortly, Bradley dragged his palms across his khaki covered thighs as he sat down and watched you change. Even though you were suffering from near constant nausea, he thought you looked incredible. Your face was glowing, and you kept looking at him with adoration in your eyes.

"Jesus," he grunted when you removed your bra. Was it possible that today he was the hornier one for once? "Sweetheart. Your tits," he whispered as he ran a hand over his face while you giggled. "Unreal." Then your underwear went sliding down your legs, and he reached down to help you out of them. "Hand me the gown," he told you as he folded your underwear across his knee.

You slipped into the gown when he held it open for you, and then you stood between his legs while he secured the ties and kissed you through the fabric. Your laughter filled the small room, and when the doctor walked in, she found you sitting on Bradley's lap while he ran his knuckles gently across your belly.

"I'm Dr. Morris," she said, shaking hands with you as you stood and then reaching for Bradley's. "I love it when partners show up for appointments, too. It's a lot more fun."

He watched Dr. Morris help you up onto the table, immediately missing your warm body next to his. "I plan on being here for every appointment unless I'm deployed." Your smile faltered a little bit at his words, so he added, "And even then, I'd steal a jet and fly in for a few hours. This is that important to me."

Your smile was restored and then some. Bradley scooted the chair a little closer when you reached for his hand as Dr. Morris started to ask you some questions and enter them into the software. "Do you recall when you last menstruated? I'd like to calculate a due date assuming we find a healthy fetus."

Once you told her the date of your last period, Bradley blurted out, "Why wouldn't it be healthy?"

Now he had two pairs of eyes on him as you squeezed his sweaty hand. "It's very early," Dr. Morris said. "Complications are more likely to occur in the first trimester than in the second or third. And your wife is just between seven and eight weeks along based on her cycle."

"Oh," Bradley said, swallowing hard. You'd tried to tell him all of this information before, letting him know it was too early to inform your parents or Nat or any of your other friends. But it felt somehow wrong coming from someone else. He didn't like this information when it was laid out before him in the exam room.

"It's okay, Roo," you told him, a sweet smile still on your face. So he nodded and watched your lips and the curve of your cheek as you answered a few more questions and asked about prenatal vitamins.

Then eventually Dr. Morris said the only words Bradley really wanted to hear right now. "Let's see what we can find with the ultrasound."

He was sitting on the edge of his seat, elbow leaning on the exam table as he gripped your hand for dear life. As excited as he'd been, now he was on the verge of being sick. What if he'd been too rough with you in bed? What if the football at the beach really did hit you in the wrong spot? What if all of the vomiting had been worse than either of you considered?

One thing was for certain. Bradley was going to love you no matter what, until his dying day. So he held onto your hand and kissed your knuckles as Dr. Morris squeezed lube onto a wand that looked a bit like one of the vibrators you had at home. "Is that for the ultrasound?" he asked, watching you spread your legs wider.

"Yes," the doctor replied, and a huge computer monitor lit up. "We need to get really up close at this stage to be able to see anything, so we're doing a transvaginal ultrasound today. The ones you're thinking of that use a paddle on the belly will come later."

"Right," he replied, and as soon as she slipped the wand inside you, he watched you purse your lips in slight discomfort. "You okay, Sweetheart?" he whispered, eyes glued to your face for any sign of pain. But your pinched expression melted away, and your lips parted softly as you sighed and stared at the computer monitor.

"Oh. Oh, Bradley! Look!"

When he turned toward the screen, he slowly stood as you pulled his hand closer to your body and held it with both of yours. Everything looked a little fuzzy at first, just some gray and black shapes. But then a cute little bean started to take shape as Dr. Morris adjusted the wand, and Bradley rasped, "Is that the baby?"

"Yes," she replied evenly, also watching the monitor. "And everything looks great."

Warmth spread through his entire body as Bradley huffed out a laugh while you giggled. He wasn't sure if his hand was shaking or if it was yours, but he leaned down and kissed your wrists before finding your lips with his. "That's our baby," he whispered, kissing you once more.

"It's adorable," you said, smiling nonstop. "Like a little bean, or a chicken nugget."

Bradley leaned on the table, keeping as close to you as he could. "I'm already so in love." He could feel tears in his eyes as Dr. Morris froze the screen. "Is it over?" he asked in a slight panic. In all honesty, he could happily spend the rest of the day right here with you and the baby, and he wasn't prepared to say goodbye yet.

"Just capturing some images," she reassured him. "Baby's first picture."

"Oh my god," Bradley groaned softly, and you ran your fingers through his hair as he ducked his head against your shoulder. "That's the first picture, Baby Girl."

"The baby looks just like you, Roo," you told him with a laugh, and he kissed you until the doctor cleared her throat.

"Let's see what we can find if we zoom in a little more."

With rapt attention once again, Bradley stared at the screen. It looked like the baby was bouncing around a bit, wiggling to an unknown song. "Is that movement good?" he asked. "And what's that little flickering spot?"

"Very good," she replied. "And the flickering is the heartbeat."

"The heartbeat?" That was inexplicably what threw him over the edge as a tear managed to squeeze its way down his cheek when he blinked. "Holy shit."

He just let his head rest against your chest and basked in the feel of your fingers in his hair as you whispered, "I love you." Bradley had no idea if you were talking to him or the baby. Or maybe both. Or maybe you loved Dr. Morris, because in this moment he certainly did as she snapped more photos. Maybe you loved everything right now just like he did.

"I love you, too."

--------------------------

Bradley was falling apart as you ran your fingertips along his scarred cheek. Or perhaps he was completely keeping it together. You weren't really sure. He had some tears in his eyes even though he was smiling, and the two of you were holding onto each other.

"Do you want to listen to the heartbeat as well?" Dr. Morris asked, and the two of you responded at the same time.

"Yes!"

She laughed and adjusted the ultrasound wand inside you which was actually extremely uncomfortable, but you were starting to think Bradley would cry harder when she removed it. And then you heard it. Dr. Morris adjusted something on the control panel, and set a device on your belly, and you could hear the heartbeat.

"Why is it so fast?" Bradley asked, squeezing your hand. "That's like really fast."

Now your heartbeat was picking up, but Dr. Morris said, "One hundred and fifty two beats per minute. That's perfectly where it should be."

"Oh, okay," Bradley sighed, eyes transfixed on the monitor. "That's good then. That's a strong Bradshaw heartbeat right there. Can you take another picture? The nugget looks really cute like that."

You laughed and reached for him when she eventually shut off the equipment and removed the wand. At Bradley's request, she printed out enough copies of each image that you'd be able to give them to your parents, all of your friends and even Bradley's cousin Brenda in Virginia.

"This seems like overkill," you whispered as the printer just kept going and going.

"It's not," he promised. "I need all of them to wallpaper my locker and fill my helmet bag. Just a bunch of pictures of you and now the baby, too."

"We'll get more ultrasound photos at the next appointment. And the next one after that," you reminded him.

"Good. We'll have enough to wallpaper at home, too." Eased himself back down into the chair as you sat up a little bit while Dr. Morris cleaned up her workstation.

"When is the due date?" you asked suddenly.

"March 24th," she replied, and you and Bradley shared a smile. "Do either of you have any other questions for me?" she asked as she handed a massive stack of ultrasound photos to your husband who looked like he just won the lottery.

"When can we find out if it's a girl or a boy?" he asked, looking through the images with a crooked little grin on his face.

"In the second trimester," she assured him. "You'll make a special appointment for an anatomy scan."

You cleared your throat and said, "So... I've been really quite... I'm sure it's the hormones and everything, but I've been extremely aroused for the past few weeks." Bradley gave you a wide eyed look as you asked, "Basically, I want my husband around the clock right now, and I want to know if that's normal?"

He let out a strangled choking sound, and his cheeks started to flush pink as Dr. Morris said, "That's totally normal. Have at it."

You pressed your lips together before you quickly asked, "And rough is okay? Like pretty rough."

"Yep," she replied, completely unfazed by your words as Bradley looked like he wanted to run out of the room with his stack of baby pictures. "Anything else?"

A smile crept to your lips, one that Bradley would have probably found alarming if he were looking anywhere else except the door at the moment. "Actually, yes. I do have one more question for you, Dr. Morris. Based on the size of the baby and the date of my last period, can you tell me when you think the baby was conceived?"

"Sure," she replied, turning the monitor back on and scrolling through all of the information in your electronic file.

"You did not just ask her that," Bradley whispered, his voice deep with annoyance and maybe a little bit of desire as you grinned at him and bit your lip.

"I would say you probably conceived right around June 27th."

You squealed with delight as Bradley groaned. "Thank you so much, Dr. Morris. We'll see you again in a few weeks."

When she left the room, you hopped off the table and started to untie your gown, pausing to pump your fist in the air while Bradley held his forehead in his hand. "Okay, okay. You win," he whined as he laughed. "You win."

"I told you the baby was conceived in the Honda!"

---------------------------

Later that night, Bradley kept reminding himself that Dr. Morris said rough sex was okay. That seemed to be the only way you wanted it as you got on all fours on the bed and said, "Fuck me hard, Daddy." And Bradley was never going to be one to deny his wife anything she asked for.

Beads of sweat were rolling down his face, occasionally dripping onto your back as he leaned over you. He was panting next to your ear as he went as hard as he could, fucking you until your knees buckled and he had to hold you up. "You know, I used to have a wife who liked it sweet sometimes. I wonder what happened to her?"

"You knocked her up," you gasped as he rubbed your clit with his fingers.

Fuck, he was getting close, and your words were not helping in the least. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come for Daddy."

A few more swipes of his fingers and a little more dirty talk, and you were coming. Holy hell, you were coming hard, which was a good thing, because Bradley needed a break. You released an unholy moan as your legs gave out again, and this time, he let you sink down to the bed as he grabbed his cock in time to come all over your ass and your back.

"Roo," you gasped as he painted you up, and you met his eyes over your shoulder. "That's so fucking hot!"

"I'm glad you think so," he grunted before he sprawled out on the bed next to you on his back. "I got nothing left in the tank, Sweetheart. Do not ask me for more tonight."

You crawled over to kiss his sweaty face and whispered, "You did so good," as you patted his abs adoringly. "You're already the world's best Daddy." Then you leaned down and cleaned his cum from the head of his cock with your tongue, and Bradley moaned as you climbed out of bed. "I'm going to shower and get ready for bed."

He raised his hand in a wave or surrender, he wasn't quite sure which. Forty-five minutes of nailing you until you screamed his name was the most intense workout he'd had in weeks. He needed to hit his home gym in the garage a little harder. Maybe he could invite Jake over to lift weights with him, and then he could sneak away and take a nap while you and Jake had one of your gossip sessions. That actually sounded pretty great.

Bradley managed to get out of bed long enough to let Tramp out and brush his teeth. By that point, you were getting out of the shower and drying yourself off, humming and sighing softly.

"I know what you're trying to do," he said with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. "And it's not gonna work."

You looked at him with one eyebrow raised as you ran the towel across your chest. "I'm sorry. What exactly am I trying to do that's not going to work?"

He spit out his toothpaste and rinsed his mouth, sending a glare at you in the mirror. "Look at your fucking tits, Sweetheart. Now you're just flaunting them."

"I'm literally just standing here."

He shook his head and kissed your forehead as he walked past. "You know what you did."

When you slipped in bed next to him, he pulled you close while you laughed softly. You were wearing nothing except for his old UVA shirt, and when you curled up next to him, he pushed you gently onto your back. Then he yanked the shirt up and shimmied under the covers so his lips were next to your tummy.

He kissed up and down your side before laying with his cheek on your hip and one hand on your belly. "Listen kid, I don't know what you're doing in there, but I need you to chill, okay? Someday soon, you'll get to see how pretty and perfect your mommy is. Yes, I think about her all day long. Yes, I love her, but I can only take so much. Your old man is an old man."

You lifted up the covers, and Bradley felt your fingers in his hair. "No, you're not."

He kissed the spot just below your belly button before returning to his pillow. "I'll be close to thirty-eight when this little nugget arrives."

"That's not old."

When you curled up on him this time, he collected you in his arms. If you were surprised by his words, you didn't let on. "My dad died when he was twenty-nine. My mom died when she was forty-two. You're a bit younger than me, not that I mind. But my age is something I think about a lot. I'm older than all my friends. I like to be prepared for things before I jump into them. I like to feel out my surroundings. Except when it comes to you, apparently."

You snuggled in a little closer, voice soft as you asked, "What do you mean?"

Bradley kissed your fingers before lacing them with his in the dark bedroom. "I was all in with you as soon as you looked at me. Zero hesitation. No turning back."

You buried your face in his chest and moaned. "You can't just talk about me like that. It makes me insane for you," came your muffled voice, and Bradley laughed.

"I guess I never had any hesitation about us having kids either. And I'm just saying... it's nice to have time to think about the baby before the baby actually gets here. But I'm also in my head a lot right now about my parents and how much more flying I've got left in me and how I don't actually know how the fuck to take care of a baby."

"Bradley!" Your voice was scolding as you propped yourself up on him. "We're a team. And I wouldn't lie to you. You're not old, and I'm pretty sure nobody actually knows how to take care of a baby until they have one in front of them. Then you just kind of do it, I guess. The fact that you are so excited about this pregnancy is at least half of what's turning me on so much. You will be the best dad imaginable, because you love me so well, and I don't doubt you have more of that to give."

He was exhausted, and your words settled over him like something he could physically feel. "I really am so excited. Today felt like a dream. I just want to cover the whole house in the ultrasound photos, and I can't wait to get another smaller paper airplane tattoo."

He felt your fingers trace his tattoo in the darkness. You knew exactly where it was without guidance just like he knew exactly where yours was. "You'll get it right here? With the baby's name on it?"

"Yeah," he whispered, starting to feel like he was going to doze off.

"I have a question," you said, and he squeezed your hand softly. "Earlier you asked when we can find out if it's a boy or a girl."

He smiled at the hesitation in your voice. "What's your question?"

Bradley could feel your heartbeat against his body, and he thought about how he had been able to see and hear what the baby was doing just a few hours ago. The beautiful sound of that rapid heartbeat that belonged to his child.

"Do you care? If it's a boy or a girl?"

"No," he answered honestly. "Not one bit. I just care that it's ours."

"Me too. I'm happy either way." Your words sounded soft and dreamy, and he believed them.

"I love you both. Now let the old man sleep."

--------------------------

The rest of the week felt like a bit of a reality check. You tried taking the prenatal vitamins from Dr. Morris, but you threw them back up almost instantly every single time. "Just skip them," Bradley said on Friday morning as you threw up in the toilet when you were trying to get dressed for work.

"I can't," you practically wailed. "They are supposed to keep me healthy so I can keep the baby healthy." You looked up at him from where you were sitting on the floor.

He sighed and checked the time. "Why don't you just stay home today? You're looking pretty green, and it's Friday anyway. Text Bickel."

Anger flared inside you. He was standing there looking nice and tidy in his khakis while you were on the floor turning yours into a wrinkly mess. And the reason for that was the fact that you had to deal with all of this shit. He just got to enjoy your libido while being excited about the baby. You really didn't want to start resenting him right now when you were leaving for Maryland soon.

"I can't just skip work on a whim like what I'm doing isn't important," you snapped. "I'm trying to get my presentation ready for Annapolis, in case you forgot you offered to help me with that."

He was on his knees in an instant with your chin in his hand. "Hey, that's not what I meant. I just don't want you overexerting yourself, especially since your work is important and you'll be traveling soon."

You still felt bitchy, even though he made you peanut butter crackers and took Tramp for a walk while you stayed curled up in bed for an extra twenty minutes. "That's right. I'll be gone for a week. I'm sure you're looking forward to having a break from the near constant sex."

You used the vanity to pull yourself to your feet while your stomach lurched, even though he was holding his hand out to help you. "Look at me," he demanded without touching you at all. You didn't want to, but you shifted your gaze to his face as he stood too. "If you really think that's true, then we have a serious problem. I'm going to assume that you feel the need to take your nausea out on me, and that's fine. I don't really mind. That's what I'm here for. But do not accuse me of ever wanting to be separated from you."

You pressed your lips together and just nodded as he leaned down to kiss your cheek. You didn't want to be away from him either, but you felt another wave of sickness rolling through your body.

"I need to go, Sweetheart. I'll stop and get you some of those ginger pills on my way home. Maybe they'll help. I love you."

After he left, you threw up again and fought the urge to throw the bottle of prenatal vitamins across the bathroom. Even now you were horny enough that you considered climbing back in bed with your vibrator to take the edge off, but you knew nothing would be as good as the real thing. And you'd have to apologize to Bradley before you could have that, and it would undoubtedly make you cry when you did.

When you finally made your way back out to the kitchen, you found more peanut butter crackers arranged on a plate in the shape of a heart with one of the ultrasound photos next to it. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tried to call your husband, but it went to voicemail. You listened to his raspy voice before ending the call and texting him instead.

I'm sorry. If you want Marry Me Rooster for dinner, pick up some chicken along with the ginger pills.

After you tucked the ultrasound picture in the new Bronco, you spent your whole morning sitting quietly with Cat, the two of you going over each presentation slide with a fine tooth comb. "Is that calculation correct?" she asked, pulling out a calculator.

"It fucking better be. I did it myself. Months ago."

She looked at you with wide eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," you lied, anxious that Bradley hadn't responded to your text. Two days ago, you were having the absolute time of your life with Dr. Morris, and now you wanted to scream. "Can we just finish this?" you said through gritted teeth as Cat checked your math which was obviously done correctly.

"That's what we're working on," she said smoothly, using her mom voice on you and making your nerves prickle. "Finishing the slides so we can spend next week practicing and getting our notes in order for all of these meetings and cocktail receptions."

The last thing you wanted to do right now was pretend you were drinking alcohol while trying not to vomit. Nothing about this trip to Annapolis seemed appealing. And you didn't want to have to try to hide your pregnancy from your parents if you drove to see them one night.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Cat asked, and you had to steel your spine as you nodded.

"I'm perfect." There was no point in making her mad at you when the two of you would be in close quarters for several days, so you rolled your shoulders and got back to work.

-----------------------------

Asking Jake if he wanted to workout actually wasn't the best idea Bradley had come up with recently. It would be nice to have someone to spot for him at the weight bench, but if you were making his favorite dinner, he'd rather spend the time with you.

"Fuck," he groaned as Jake followed him to the grocery store on his way home. Apparently he needed protein powder and didn't mind that Bradley had to stop for chicken. Of course now he had to try to discreetly grab the ginger pills that you wanted to try for your nausea.

It ended up being easier than he thought since Jake took fifteen minutes to decide which flavor of protein powder he wanted. He was still looking at them when Bradley went back to that aisle. "Are you almost done?"

Jake shot him a nasty look from where he was squatting at the bottom shelf. "Listen, it would go faster if I didn't get hit on constantly when I'm wearing my uniform."

Bradley rolled his eyes so hard, he was afraid he'd get a migraine. "Keep it in your fucking pants. I'll meet you at my house."

Jake grabbed a container and followed him to the registers. When they passed a hot sauce display, he grabbed one and handed it to Bradley. "Get this for Angel, and maybe you'll get laid. Sounds like you need it."

"It's literally the last thing I need," he mumbled, but paid for it anyway along with the ginger and the chicken. When Bradley slid his credit card back in his wallet, he saw the corner of the ultrasound image he had tucked in there last night. He unfolded it and took a peek as Jake paid for his powder. You were everything. And the baby was everything. And he should have been a little more patient with you this morning.

"You coming?" Jake asked, and Bradley shoved the nugget photo back inside his wallet before slipping it into his pocket.

You were already home, and Bradley parked the blue Bronco next to the red one. Jake came careening into the driveway, stopping about two inches from the back of the new Bronco. "Show her a little respect, okay?"

Jake snorted as he climbed out. "You literally fucked the other car to bits. I didn't do shit."

Bradley groaned as he walked inside with Jake on his heels. The first thing he saw was you in the kitchen, feeding Tramp a treat. You had on some skin tight yoga pants and a little shirt without a bra, and you turned to him and said, "Can we talk?" He opened his mouth to tell you that you could have any damn thing you wanted, and then you said, "Hi, Jake," with a look of surprise on your face. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Hey, Angel," Jake crooned, walking into the kitchen and pulling you in for a tight hug. Shit, Bradley forgot to text you and let you know he wasn't going to be alone. "Didn't see you at lunch today."

"I worked through lunch," you replied, your eyes on Bradley. "Are you staying for dinner?"

"Nah, just going to lift weights out in the garage with Rooster for a bit. I'll be out of your hair after that."

"You can stay if you want," you told him, but he was already heading toward the hallway bathroom with his gym bag. "Why didn't you tell me he was coming over?" you whispered. "I'm not even wearing underwear, and you left one of the ultrasound photos on the fridge."

Bradley quickly pulled it down and stuck it in the freezer on his way to get to you. "I'm sorry. I meant to text you, but then I got in the Bronco and forgot." Tears welled up in your eyes; he should be used to this by now, but he was not. "If you're horny, I'll take care of you as soon as Jake leaves."

You scoffed at him. "It's not that. I don't just want that. I wanted to talk. You're not just a gigantic, walking dick to me."

Jake cleared his throat, and you and Bradley both turned to see him standing there in his gym clothes. "I'll meet you out in the garage," he said with a smirk. "Take your time."

"I'll just be a minute," Bradley called over his shoulder, but you'd already started to open the chicken he set on the counter. "Do you want to talk now?"

"No." Great. You were giving him one word answers now.

"Would you like me to get changed and get out of your hair?"

"Yes."

---------------------------

As soon as Bradley walked through the sliding glass door and headed for the garage, you broke out in tears. What the fuck was your problem? You didn't mind if Jake was here or if he stayed for dinner. You didn't want to completely discourage Bradley from hanging up the nugget photo. You just couldn't control your emotions, and you had zero patience today. And you couldn't stop running to the bathroom to pee.

You decided to fill up some travel mugs with water and take them out to the guys to smooth things over. Tramp ran around in the grass as you walked across the yard, and you could already hear the two of them talking over their playlist as you approached the doorway.

"Is Angel's ass bigger now?" Jake asked, pointing to the dirty calendar that Bradley hung on the wall and strategically covered part of with a post-it note.

Your husband shook his head. "Stop staring at my calendar," he replied as he added weight to one side of the bar. "And stop talking about my wife's ass."

"She's in a feisty mood today. You probably didn't even need that hot sauce to get laid, old man." Based on Jake's response, you were pretty sure neither of them had seen you in the doorway yet as you stood there awkwardly.

Bradley's brow creased. "She's been a real handful, actually."

Jake hooted with laughter. "In the bedroom? Never mind, I don't want to know."

It took Bradley a few seconds to respond. "Can we talk about anything else other than my wife? Please? Literally any other topic would be great."

You turned on your heel and carried the waters back toward the house as soon as you heard Jake say, "Speaking of asses, you know who has a great one..."

They were out there for a full hour. You made what turned out to be perhaps the most incredible looking batch of Marry Me Rooster of your life while you stewed. Even your husband was already sick of you. Soon you'd gain so much pregnancy weight, your ass would probably be enormous. He'd probably have to close his eyes just to have sex with you.

You froze as you were putting the chicken onto a plate. What if he couldn't stand the sight of you with a belly at all? All stretched out and weird? Bradley had probably glorified it in his mind, but you knew it wasn't going to be all that appealing when you were nine months along in the middle of March with stretch marks galore. You were already bloated enough that Jake noticed.

You were turning and looking down at your body when they both came walking back inside, out of breath. "Smells good in here. Are these for us?" Bradley asked, pointing at the waters on the island.

"Yes," you whispered, afraid to meet his eyes. As soon as you heard his voice, you were horny again, but you didn't want to keep forcing him to have sex with you just because you couldn't help yourself.

Jake kissed you on the cheek, and when you told him he was welcome to stay for dinner, he said, "I'll take a raincheck. See you for golf on Sunday, Rooster," and headed out to his car.

"Do you think you can eat dinner?" Bradley asked you softly. When you turned away from him and nodded, he said, "You didn't have to wait for me if you were hungry. Do you want me to shower first?"

You burst into tears once again. "I don't know if I'm hungry. I don't ever know. Sometimes I just grow up. And I can't stop fucking crying! And I don't want you to be so sick of me that you'd rather talk about literally anything else with Jake, including someone else's ass."

"Whoa, whoa," he said quietly, spinning you around again. "I don't want to talk about anything else besides you, Sweetheart."

You shook your head and covered your eyes with your hands. "I tried to bring the waters outside. I heard you."

When you were pulled snug against his sweaty shirt, you felt slightly better. "Baby Girl. I was not about to get into a conversation with Jake about how I can barely keep up with you in bed. In order to keep my pride intact, I would at least want him to know you're pregnant if I'm admitting that you're wearing me out." He kissed the top of your head over and over.

"It feels like you're getting sick of me," you sobbed softly. "And you brought me hot sauce even though I can't eat it right now, and that made me so sad."

"I couldn't be less sick of you if I tried. I just needed to keep Jake off my back rather than let slip that you're pregnant, so I got the hot sauce. And it's completely my fault I forgot to tell you he was coming over, but I had a lot on my mind today."

"Like what?" you asked, inhaling how delicious he smelled even compared to the dinner you made.

"Like possible baby names and the look and feel of your pussy when I fuck you. Do you need me right now? Because I'm ready to go when you want me."

"So badly," you squeaked. "I'm sorry, Roo."

"Don't ever apologize again for wanting to have sex with me. I will be the one to apologize if I don't last as long as you need me to."

You nodded against him. "Well then I'll apologize for having a bad attitude."

"Do you need me to fuck the attitude out of you?"

"Yes, sir."

-------------------------------

Imagine how excited he'll be holding that baby in his beefy arms. Just stay calm, sweet Roo. The hormones won't last forever. Up next, we're going to Annapolis. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 31

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bunny-yan · 3 months

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Hi i was the anon that Requested the p2 of Yan Hero and it got me thinking....

What would happen If The demon Lord Fell in live with Y/n and took her...BUT the Demon actually cares about her and Gives her freedom As Long as she doesn't escape?

Ngl i just wanna Know what tasman's reactiin would be tbh I hope im not Bothering you sorry!

Thx for reading :)))

Also can i be 💋-Anon?

Hi 💋~ Anon! No need to apologize! You aren’t bothering me at all. I think a traumatized darling would be hesitant to jump into the arms of someone else that could potentially repeat the relationship that they’d been so desperate to escape from, but the Demon King is perfect because they would be able to protect you from the hero unparalleled by anyone else in terms of strength and influence. It also feels nice to go to the one person Tasman regards as an enemy. He’d told you over and over again how he was doing this for the greater good and how he needed to protect you from the big bad Demon King, but it’s hard to believe that when the proclaimed villain treats you better and with more respect than he ever did.

TW: threats and descriptions of violence, mentions physical abuse, language, death threats —

He’d taken his eyes off of you for two seconds. Two fucking seconds.

It wasn’t the smartest idea to bring you to an active battle, especially when his enemy had come to meet him, but he didn’t trust you enough with one of the other members in his party after what happened last time. And he especially didn’t trust you to leave you on your own. That left bringing you along, despite knowing how dangerous it was.

It was why he told you to stick close to him. He needed to be able to protect you at a moment’s notice, so you had to remain by his side.

Why did he trust that you would listen?

Walking across a large expanse of land, he felt an imminent threat of danger, only having enough time to grab you and jump out of the way just as a large shadow swallowed the ground in the exact spot his foot would’ve landed.

“Ambush!” one of his teammates yelled, and the situation descended into chaos just that quickly.

Snarls from demon dogs echoed throughout the field as the party fought to fend them off. They were huge, standing taller than some of the trees that were sparsely located, and they were fast. Despite that, dealing with them was easy, when he didn’t have to fight to protect you as well.

Rudy, the party’s tank was struggling to hold back one of the monsters by himself and Annalise, the party’s healer, and Morrigan, the party’s mage, were pinned by two others. Despite their calls for assistance, Tasman brandsihed his sword, eyes narrowing on the Demon King at the head of the attack.

“The others will protect you if something happens. Stay right here and don’t move.” he told you, locking you with a gaze that promised trouble if you were to disobey. The next moment he disappeared, hurtling forward at an inhuman speed to strike the Demon King.

You weren’t surprised. It wasn’t the first time he’d abandoned you to fight, but it was never easy and always nervewracking to be left so open, so exposed while death and destruction surrounded you. A part of you was screaming to run away from the danger, but the last time you had, you’d almost died, experiencing a pain that you couldn’t begin to describe when your body was almost ripped apart. If Tasman believed he could trust you to be protected as long as you stayed in this one spot, you would stay.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to witness a battle you were helpless to aid or run away from, but it wasn’t long before your resolve began to wane.

At the sound of a low growl, you peeked, regretting it instantly at the sight of a snarling dog, snout dripping with saliva, looking dead at you.

“T-Tasman.”

The dog took a step towards you, ears pulled back as the growling increased. Your eyes were wide, too afraid to look away from the staring contest as your body began to shake in fear. With another step in your direciton, you felt yourself backing away, only to freeze at the phantom pain that shot through you from the last time you’d moved from the spot he placed you.

“Tasman.” you said louder this time.

Another step had your body tensing painfully. You didn’t want to experience anything like that ever again. You were sure you’d die the last time you were attacked and no matter how advanced Tasman’s healing magic was, it didn’t help you forget the way your body felt as if it was being torn apart.

When it crouched, bunching it’s muscle in preparation to lunge, something snapped. “Tasman!” you screamed, sprinting away despite knowing that you wouldn’t be fast enough to get away. You shouldn’t have trusted his words. His party members would be happy if you disappeared, leaving the chance for one of them to mend his broken heart.

You were fucked from the start.

He’d been lost in the heat of the battle. He could hear you calling his name, but he didn’t have time to cater to your delicate sensibilities. However, he could hear the fear bleeding in your tone and his heart dropped when he finally caught a moment to glance towards you.

Face drowning in fear, you ran as one of the monster’s jumped to attack you.

What the fuck were they doing‽

He turned, desperate to get back to you, but an unknown force sent him hurtling away.

You yelled, silently pleading for the goddess to spare you before something appeared. Bumping into whatever it was, you didn’t question it as an arm wrapped around your waist before the two of you were met with impact.

From your ragged breaths, you knew you were still alive. Your body sagged in relief, tears leaking involuntarily from your eyes. Despite how cross you were that he’d put you in danger in the first place, you wrapped your arms around his waist and held him tightly.

“I told you I didn’t want to be here, you asshole.”

After taking a deep breath, you backed away to glare at Tasman before your face went slack in shock.

This… was not Tasman.

Dark pools that lacked irises stared back at you. You, who had just cursed at this inexplicably handsome stranger. You, who still had your arms wrapped around said stranger’s waist.

Ripping away, you backed up quickly to bump into something else. Something soft tickled your neck and you felt queasy at the heavy breath that made your hair stand on end. Looking up, your eyes went wide at the sight of the demon dog and when it loosed a terrifying snarl, you found yourself jumping back into the stranger’s arms.

Unfazed, he placed a hand on your back before staring up at the enormous creature.

“Down.” he said, silky voice holding such authority, the beast whined before obeying his master’s order. Looking at the monster now, he resmembled a scolded puppy begging its owner not to be upset. If the puppy had two sets of eyes, a spiked tail, and was big enough to use trees to play fetch.

You looked back to the handsome stranger when he removed his hands from your waist, grabbing your hands to remove the death grip you had on his cloak. Your face was hot in embarrassment, but you mumbled gratitude for saving your life.

“How peculiar.” The stranger cocked his head to the side. “How has a bonded soul sustained such damage?”

You were going to ask him what he meant, but you were pulled into a sudden embrace. Placing a palm up, your eyes widened as the ground cracked from the force of Tasman’s blow against his shield. When the world settled, the man released you once again to face his attacker.

“Lover, get away from him! He’s dangerous!”

You looked at the man who saved you and from the force of Tasman’s words, instinctively you knew.

This was the Demon King.

But he appeared nothing like what you heard. He didn’t have a foreboding presence that promised death and destruction. You didn’t see ghastly horns or grotesque features. He looked human. Normal, even. Nothing like the stories you’d heard growing up.

“Lover!” Tasman snarled, making you jump as you turned to face him. His eyes were wild with panic as his hands pushed against an invisible force. “Come here.”

You felt something shrivel inside of you at the sound of his voice, fear bleeding in your eyes as you began to slowly make your way towards him. Something was telling you that you were going to get in trouble for being rescued by the Demon King.

Tasman visibly relaxed the closer you got, preparing his strength to blow away the barrier the moment you were near, but when you were almost within grabbing distance a hand caught your wrist, halting your forward movement. It wasn’t aggressive and despite the fact that he easily towered over you, his grip was light enough that you felt you could yank your hand away at a moment’s notice. It was funny that you felt no inclination to.

“Fear for the person claiming such an intimate role?”

You looked in their eyes and it surprised you to see concern. Your mouth opened, but you flinched at Tasman’s sharp “Don’t touch-”

“And was this their doing as well?” the Demon King continued, completely unfazed by the anger that cowed you, brought you to heel, and demanded your obedience. He turned your hand to reveal an angry hand-shaped bruise. It was from this morning. You’d attempted to reason that it wasn’t safe for a normal human being to be in an environment with monsters that, even at the weakest level, could kill you. He brushed off your concern, claiming he’d be able to protect you and when you insisted he lost his patience. Grabbing your wrist, he didn’t temper his strength and you felt it might break as he dragged you from the room and down the stairs. Not healing it as a form of punishment for the nasty look you’d given him. He claimed that you might learn to appreciate him if he took away what little he did offer, even if he was also the cause of every miscolored imperfection.

Your silence was enough.

Looking from the bruise around your wrist to the hand that held yours gently, Tasman grit his teeth as he punched at the barrier in anger before attempting to calm down and switching tactics.

“Lover, you don’t know the things he’s done. The village’s he’s destroyed. He is dangerous. Come to me.” he said holding out his hand. When you didn’t move after a moment, his voice sounded choked with desperation to hold back the force, the anger. “Come to me.”

Releasing your hand, you almost felt disappointed. A part of you felt guilty thinking you would no longer be able to use the Demon King’s grip on you as an excuse for not rushing back to Tasman’s side. Something he would be sure to berate you for when you made it back. You didn’t understand why you were making things harder for yourself. You hated the way that sounded, but if you wanted to keep Tasman his happy, kind self, you did what he said. When you wanted to see some of his non-hero like aspects, you did the opposite. And that was what you were doing now. Delaying the inevitable. You didn’t want to imagine the terrifying expression on his face when this man left you to fend for yourself.

‘I would offer asylum, should you be inclined to accept.’ Your head jerked up in surprise at the sound of the voice in your head. ‘Apologies for intruding on your thoughts, but the scenes you projected were hard to ignore. I do not ask you to trust me, but if you’re willing to take the chance to see that I’m not the monster he claims, all I ask is that you take my hand.’

Lifting his hand, you looked at the enticing offer.

Looking between his hand and you, your gaze focused on whatever the bastard offered, Tasman felt dread and a newfound sense of desperation to get you back. “Lover, don’t. He’ll kill you. He’ll devour your soul and give your body to his underlings to do with as they please. Don’t do this. Don’t-”

You thought about what Tasman said. About how dangerous this person was. If you took his hand there was a chance you were subjecting yourself to a worse fate than what you had with your hero. A chance that he simply wanted the gullible human to follow him back to his domain before he took his time devouring his easy prey.

You thought about him destroying villages and for the first time, you didn’t feel guilty as you thought, So what?

The Demon King destroyed villages. The same villages that Tasman threatened to destroy, to rampage if you didn’t come out from hiding after finally managing to escape. The same villages that turned a blind eye when you were kidnapped from your mundane life. The same villages that were complicit in your imprisonment if it meant they would be protected from the big, bad Demon King. The same Demon King that was offering you a chance to escape from all of this. You could be walking into a trap, but you didn’t care. If he devoured your soul it wouldn’t return to the awful cycle you were stuck in and eaten, it would find peace.

You wanted to laugh at the incredulity of the situation. At the hopelessness that drove you to this point.

Fuck those villages.

From the look in your eyes, Tasman knew what you were going to do. He began banging on the barrier with all his might, summoning every ounce of strength as his face contorted into ugly rage.

“Lover!” he snarled, howling with rage when you placed your hand in the Demon King’s. He pounded the barrier, cracking it bit by bit as he hurled threats to you and the Demon King. “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you!”

“Maybe one day, but not today, child. Use this time to reflect on the actions that led to this outcome.” With a hand around your waist, you looked at Tasman, at the rage you never knew he could possess, at the terrifyingly possessive look that had you stepping back into the Demon King.

“I’ll find you, lover.” he said with a terrifying calm. “And when I do-”

You didn’t get a chance to hear what he was going to say. One moment you were on the battlefield, the next you were swallowed by shadows that brought you to the edge of a serene forest.

Releasing you, the Demon King quickly wrapped his arms around again when your legs threatened to give out from underneath you.

“Thank you,” you said, voice trembling with emotion you couldn’t begin to describe. Were you afraid because of Tasman’s threat? Grateful that you would get even a moment away from him? Scared of what the Demon king planned to do to you? There was too much to consider and you didn’t have enough time to process everything that had happened up until this point.

“No need.” he said, surprising you as he cupped your face in his his hands. The warmth from his hands lulled you into a false sense of calm and when he came closer, you panicked. Was he going to kiss you? Was that a requirement to devour your soul‽

Shutting your eyes tight, you assumed something was wrong when he placed his forehead against yours, but after a quick chant and a warm sensation on your forehead, he released you, leaving you reeling in what just happened.

“The mark I’ve bestowed will help the creatures in this territory recognize you as one of us. All I ask is that you do not harm them.”

“Oh.” Was all you managed to say.

You didn’t know what he had planned, but once again you were frozen in shock when a small smile appeared on his face.

“Peculiar human. A kiss would only be the first step.”

Your mouth dropped open, but if he noticed the stupor he placed you in, he didn’t say. Walking forward, he called behind, “Come along. I will show you the room that is meant to be yours and allow you to explore to your single heart’s content.”

Without a word or a sense of hesitation, you followed.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #yandere male #ask #gn reader #yandere hero #yandere hero x reader

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