#(would love to know what parts you most want to mock. i have my own list. eNdGaMe is at the top of it. jughead's mommy issues era too) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

colonelarr0w · 7 months

Note

Heyy 💜

I read that you are accepting requests so I came here to ask for one with Nanami but he as a teenager (because I've been in love with him since that time lol) would like to see his first time, a cute smut at first because he seemed to be so inexperienced and introverted but later he could have a kinky side 🥴

Sypnosis - Read above request.

Warning(s) - mature themes, foul language, smut, Gojo being nosy asf

A/N - I do plan to make a part 2 to this piece, so I decided to focus on Reader for this piece and then Nanami in the second one. It'll make more sense once y'all read it, I promise.

! PIECE BEGINS UNDERNEATH THE CUT !

For the six months that you and Nanami had been together, the farthest that you two got in terms of intimacy was heated make outs and rough grinding – both of which were done with about as much grace as a baby cow trying to ice skate.

That didn't mean that either of you wanted to take it further, it was just that neither of you really knew how.

And what didn't make any of this better?

Satoru Gojo constantly being up Nanami's ass about it.

"While I appreciate your input-"

"If you 'appreciated' my input," Gojo lifts his fingers and mocks making air quotes, "then you would take my advice and – y'know – not be a virgin anymore."

Nanami's eye twitches in fury, eyebrows pinched together as the snowy-haired male shrugs his shoulders, rolling his eyes with the most 'I-said-so' expression that he had ever seen on another human being.

"Your advice is about as helpful as a fanfiction written by a middle school girl," Geto is quick to chime in, throwing an arm over Gojo's shoulder and patting his palm against his friend's chest. Gojo scoffs, jaw dropping open as he turns his head to glare daggers into Geto.

"Excuse me, my advice is-"

"Hi Ken! Hi everyone!" Your happy voice is what effectively kills the growing argument, bright smile infecting the group in front of you – all of them turn to return your greeting. Nanami's smile is much more toned down than the others, but that doesn't mean nobody fails to notice the way his lips quirk upward the moment your lips come into contact with his cheek.

"Hello," Nanami is the first to respond, eyes softening at you as you pull away and wave to greet the others. Gojo glances at Nanami, sending him a knowing glance that is shrugged off by the blonde. "I thought you were busy training today?"

"Nope! Yaga gave me the rest of the afternoon off, so I figured I'd come by and grab you," you say with a grin on your face, lifting a hand to affectionately pat his cheek. "I went out shopping yesterday and got snacks and a movie."

Nanami finds himself smiling again, completely ignoring the existence of those around him, eyes focused on you like a lovesick puppy. He squeezes the hand that rests on his face, nodding his head at the request.

"What movie did you pick out?" Nanami asks innocently – his tone of voice makes Gojo snicker. You glance curiously at the third-year, who only turns swiftly away from you and whistles as if he had done nothing.

"Just some cheesy rom-com," you answer just as innocently, smiling again at your boyfriend. Nanami glances quickly at Gojo, his eyes narrowing at the sight of Gojo's curled lips – he was grinning like the damn Cheshire Cat.

"It sounds nice. Would you like to watch it now?"

You nod eagerly, already reaching for your boyfriend's hand. He allows your fingers to slip into his own, feeling himself chuckle as you squeeze happily at them. You bid the rest of the group farewell, waving politely to them before turning in the direction of the student dormitories.

Nanami glances over his shoulder at the group as you both depart, feeling his cheeks heat at the hand gestures that Gojo throws up. That little-

< … >

"Ken," you breathe into his mouth, arms wound around his neck as your lips move against his own. The movie is still playing in the background, but its plot is entirely forgotten – not that either of you minded in the slightest.

His hands grip at your hips, moving them across his own and swallowing your moans. You pull back from him to catch your breath, whining lightly as you grind your hips against his own. Nanami smirks to himself, leaning forward to lightly kiss at your neck, relishing in the way you try (and fail) to hold back moans.

"What is it?" Nanami asks quietly, perking an eyebrow at you as your movements against him still. You glance at him, eyes lust-blown and your cheeks reddened with lust. He already knows what it is that you want – but he would be lying if he said that he wasn't a nervous wreck. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

"I – why don't we – you know," you whisper nervously, your hands on Nanami's shoulders to keep yourself grounded. He tilts his head at you, urging you to continue speaking. He doesn't quite know why, but he wants to hear you say it – he wants you to verbalize exactly what it was that you wanted.

"Why don't we what?"

"C'mon Ken," you whine, moving your hips against his once. He grits his teeth, suppressing the moan that climbs up his throat at the drag of your hips against his own. You smirk at the reaction you pull from him, leaning forward so that your lips just barely ghost against his. "You know."

Nanami glances up at you, swallowing his nervousness and leaning forward again, attaching his lips to your neck and kissing the skin there. You exhale shakily, nails biting into his shoulders as you rock against him again.

"Are you sure?" Nanami mutters against your neck, his breath fanning over your skin and making you shiver in the best way possible.

"I'm sure."

Nanami continues to place featherlight kisses against your neck, hands moving your hips back and forth against his own, craving that friction that you had provided. You don't protest, allowing him to move you while he sucks a dark purple hickey into your neck – one that you would definitely have trouble hiding in the morning.

Hesitantly, his hands travel upwards, one hand cupping over your clothed breast and giving it an apprehensive squeeze. You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, eyes flickering up to meet his own as he gives you a look that asks 'is this okay'.

You nod again at him, urging him to keep going.

Nanami's hands return to your hips, where he then guides you off of his lap and lays you down flat on the couch, hovering over you. His lips connect with yours in a hungry kiss, lips moving in sync with your own. His hands wander, squeezing and groping your tits.

You moan quietly into his mouth, tangling your hands in his hair and mussing his bangs. He smirks against your lips, hungrily swallowing your moans. His hands continue their assault, thumbs experimentally flicking over your nipples through your shirt.

That pulls a particularly loud whine from you – one that Nanami immediately wants to hear again.

Hesitantly, Nanami begins to lift your shirt, getting it rolled up to your stomach before you wiggle the rest of the way out, throwing the clothing across the room. He leans down to kiss you again, his hands working to quickly unclasp your bra and discard that as well.

The moment that your tits spill out over your chest, Nanami flicks his thumb against one of your nipples, relishing the whine that you let out. Your back arches from the couch, body not quite used to the sensation that Nanami had been the source of.

"Ken," you moan out, raising a hand to tilt his head so that his gaze meets yours. He nearly cums in his pants at the expression you wear – lust-blown pupils and slightly swollen lips from the force at which he had kissed them.

He exhales, leaning his head down and dragging his tongue down the valley of your breasts, eyes occasionally flickering up to you just in case you wanted him to stop. Your hands tangle in his hair, fingernails scraping along his scalp – you truly didn't want him to stop. Not that he was opposed.

He turns, bringing one nipple into his mouth and hesitantly running his tongue over it. Your back arches, lips parting to release a choked-out moan as he swirls the tip of his tongue over your hardened nipple.

“Ken,” you whine out again, glancing down your body at him and panting as you wait in anticipation. His hands hook underneath the waistband of your pants, helping you shimmy out of them with a small smirk plastered onto his face.

“What is it?” he whispers, his hands holding your hips with his thumbs rubbing soft circles into the supple flesh. He squeezes them lovingly, earning a whine from you. “You’ll have to tell me.”

“C’mon Kento, stop teasing,” you whine, bucking your hips upward and chasing the pleasure that his hands had been giving you up until that point. He smirks, leaning down to kiss your pussy over your panties — the feeling making you squirm in anticipation.

“I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” Nanami answers honestly, kissing your pussy again before his eyes flicker up to meet yours, taking a mental note of the expression of lust that occupies your face.

"I am," you whisper in response, moving your hips upward again in a silent plea for him to continue. Nanami hooks his fingers underneath the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and biting back a breathy chuckle at the way you eagerly help him in removing the article of clothing.

He runs a finger down your glistening folds, your body stuttering at the touch and a broken moan falling from your lips. He lifts his hand for a moment, twisting his wrist so that the pad of his thumb rubs circles into your clit – the action sends sparks up your spine.

You whine out at the contact, lifting your hips to drag your clit along his finger. In response, he continues to rub circles into the sensitive bundle of nerves, feeling his cock strain in his pants at the sound of your whines and moans.

Hesitantly, Nanami leans in, tentatively flicking his tongue against your clit. Your body jolts forward, hands tangling in his hair. You tug him closer to your pussy, letting out a panted breath as he presses a featherlight kiss against your clit.

He remains between your legs for what feels like hours – even though it had to have been only fifteen minutes at most. He licks, sucks, and drags his tongue flat against your pussy, eager to pull those sweet sounds from your throat.

"Ken...fuck...I'm cumming!" Your voice raises in pitch as your back arches off of the couch, chest stuttering as the knot in your stomach – which had been building up slowly – snaps completely. Nanami continues his assault on your pussy, desperate to feel you cum against him.

He sucks your clit between his lips, that being enough to send you over the edge. Your hips buck up into him, small shocks sent through your entire body as you lay back down against the couch, panting and trying to catch your breath.

Nanami rises from his spot between your legs, dragging the back of his knuckles against his lips as he stares through half-lidded eyes to admire your fucked out expression. Soft pants fall from your parted lips, a small line of drool dribbling down your chin — which he swipes his thumb against.

“Are you alright?” he asks softly, smiling as your eyes focus on him again. Your own lips quirk upward, eyes crinkling at the corners.

"Better than alright," you answer honestly, panting slightly as you prop yourself up on your elbows, gazing down at Nanami through half-lidded eyes.

He finds himself smiling at your exhaustion, crawling up to you and softly pressing his lips to yours. You moan quietly against his lips, your fingers weaving into his golden locks and tugging lightly. He pulls back to admire you again, both of you staring at the other in comfortable silence.

"I think that's enough for you," he whispers. You shake your head at him, though your eyes betray you, slowly blinking at him and biting back the yawn that threatens to escape your lips. "Yes. Come now, don't worry about me, you're exhausted."

"I'm not," you weakly protest, leaning your forehead against Nanami's. He chuckles at you, bringing you into his arms and tucking your face into the crook of his neck. "Kento."

"Hush," he shushes you, squeezing you. You sigh, allowing your heavy eyes to fall shut, body curling closer to his and absorbing the warmth that he radiates. "There's always next time," he promises. You hum in response.

Yeah, there was always next time.

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juniperskye · 1 year

Text

The Story of Us

Sneak Peek: Three years, seven months and twenty-four days. That is how long you had been with Aaron Hotchner. That also happens to be the same amount of time that Aaron had been lying to his team.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

Fluff/Angst

Word count: 3468

Warnings: Age gap, pregnancy, mention of divorce, mention of Haley and her death, mention of child abduction case (no details), pregnancy complications, mentions of hospitals. Use of y/n (once I think). I think that's everything - let me know if I missed anything else.

Not edited - please be kind.

I do not consent to having my work translated or reposted to any other site. That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Three years, seven months and twenty-four days. That is how long you had been with Aaron Hotchner. That also happens to be the same amount of time that Aaron had been lying to his team.

It really wasn’t that Aaron wanted to hide you from them, he just had to keep you safe. He needed to keep you separated from the horrors the plagued his career.

When he met you, he honestly wasn’t sure what would come of it, you were quite a bit younger than him, only having just begun your ascent into adulthood. It wasn’t until he got to know you that he knew he was hooked. You had him wrapped around your finger and all you had done was be your most authentic self. Something he envied.

On your first official date he’d learned so much about you, you were twenty-five, you owned your own café, you had moved to Virginia just a year prior from Arizona, you were divorced, and you were a single mother. You had explained to Aaron that the pregnancy had been unplanned and ultimately was the beginning of the end of your marriage. Your daughter, Norah, was four and the divorce had been long been finalized when you began dating.

The two of you had agreed to take things slow, seeing as you both had been through so much in your previous relationships. It had taken him some time, but he did eventually explain what had happened to Haley – He had spared you of the more gruesome details, but he explained that his job was dangerous, and it is what had led to their demise, so he gave you an out. Once he had finished his tangent you had caressed his cheek and leaned in and kissed him, explaining to him that you understood and didn’t plan on going anywhere.

You and Aaron have not had it easy over the last three and a half years, after just a year of dating you had moved in together. That hadn’t been easy, you had to adjust to his lifestyle, and he had to adjust to yours. It was hard work finding the balance of your newly blended family, but you had managed – coming out on the other side even stronger than before.

Three months after moving in you had found the ring. It hadn’t been intentional by any means. You were doing the laundry on your day off and while placing his socks in their designated drawer you had noticed the little velvet box. It sat there mocking you as you just gawked at it. You were definitely ready to marry Aaron, but you questioned whether he was truly ready to marry you. You had been together for just over a year and the only family of his you had met was Jack, Sean and Jessica. How could he possibly want to add you and Norah to his family if he was too afraid to introduce you to them.

That night when Aaron got home you confronted him, you had waited until dinner was finished and the kids were tucked into bed, not wanting them to be a part of a conversation of such nature. It started off as you simply explaining to him how you had found the ring – adamant to inform him that you had not been snooping, you had found it purely by accident. That is when the word vomit started, you just couldn’t stop yourself from droning on about how you loved him and you are so excited that he wants to take this step, but you can’t help but feel like maybe you have pressured him into this and that you would stop talking about the future and just take it day by day because you couldn’t live with yourself if you had forced him into this decision and you would never want him to resent you because of it.

Before you could get another word out Aaron had practically shouted your name, it had been the only way to get you to stop talking and listen to him in that moment. He had asked you where on earth you had gotten the idea that he felt forced or pressured from, he was so heartbroken to know that you were feeling this way. This is when you explained your theory about him not being ready to introduce you to his family, let alone add you to it. Aaron’s face fell at your words, everything coming together in his head. He looked into your eyes and the walls he had spent so long building up after Haley’s death, came crumbling down. He reassured you that he wanted nothing more than to make you and Norah a permanent part of the Hotchner family (if you’d let him) and he explained to you why he had continued to keep his personal life so separate from his professional one. This time around he gave you some of the details surrounding Haley’s death and it was your turn to have the pieces fall into place.

Your conversation ended in an engagement as well as an understanding that for his piece of mind and your safety, things would continue to be separate. With the clause that Aaron would at least tell you about his job a little more and he would tell you all about his team (even if they didn’t know about you). You wanted to feel connected to him completely and in order to do so, you needed to know about the other half of his life.

Eight months later you were married, after another six months you had officially adopted Jack and Aaron had officially adopted Norah. The Hotchner family was complete! Or so you had thought. Your family had enjoyed six-ish months of bliss after the adoptions had been finalized before your world had turned upside down. After a night of celebration, (Jack winning his soccer game, Norah’s A+ on her spelling test, your new menu, and Aaron’s completion of his most recent case) the two of you had enjoyed a particularly heated evening which leads to you – three weeks later staring at the stupid digital letters spelling out PREGNANT. Aaron and you had both mentioned wanting a big family, but you had assumed that the four of you were what he meant.

Aaron took the news well, honestly, you’re pretty sure he was more excited than you were. The two of you talked about how you would make the announcement, both to the kids and to your extended family. You also scheduled the first appointment to check and see if this was really happening.

After that first appointment, in which you confirmed that you were in fact pregnant, you and Aaron had begun planning. You talked about potential baby names, and you began looking at houses. At your eight-week appointment (which you’d gone to solo as Aaron had been working) you’d gotten some news that would really change things…you were worried about what this would mean for you and Aaron.

When he finally arrived home five days later, you wasted no time in breaking the news. You were having triplets, and you had officially been labeled as a high-risk pregnancy. Aaron sat stunned for a while, so long that you had started to worry. You knew he needed time to process this, but you really needed him too, truthfully, you were scared. Your pregnancy with Norah had not been easy and that was one baby. Here you were now trying to fathom how difficult this pregnancy and birth would be. When Aaron finally snapped out of the daze he’d fallen into, he reached for you, holding your hands in his own while reassuring you that you guys could do this, and everything would be okay.

Two months later you moved into your new home. Things had been changing faster than you could wrap your head around them and while you were so excited to be in your new home and settled with these babies that were officially four months along, you couldn’t help but succumb to that nagging feeling in the back of your mind. It had been telling you that things would not be this good forever and there was bound to be a bump in this road at some point.

The bump that came was not one you were prepared for.

Three years, seven months and twenty-four days. That is how long you had been with Aaron Hotchner. That also happens to be the same amount of time that Aaron had been lying to his team.

The Hotchner family had been settled in their new home and you were just nearing the end of your pregnancy. Aaron had been called in for a time sensitive local case – child abduction. These cases were always hard on him, having Jack and needing to leave him to work these cases, but now it wasn’t just Jack. It was Jack and Norah and your three unborn babies and you, Aaron had been feeling the pressure of this case and you could see it on his face, in the fleeting moments you’d been able to share since the case had begun three days ago.

It was time and you knew it, that all too familiar feeling, the pain coming in waves every so often. The kids were at school and Jess was out of town. The only person you could call was Aaron, and he wasn’t answering. He had been really good about attending to her calls during the pregnancy but given his current mental state and the pressure he’s under to solve and close this case, you weren’t exactly surprised that he wasn’t responsive.

There was one other person you could call. Aaron had given you his number in case of an emergency. When he gave your number to Dave with little to no explanation, Dave just smiled a nodded his head. The team had noticed the changes in Hotch as your relationship had progressed. He didn’t stay late anymore unless absolutely necessary, he had been happier, smiling more, wearing a ring again. Nobody said anything as they figured Hotch would share when he was ready…they just didn’t expect it to be nearly four years later.

So, when Dave’s phone rang, and it was your contact that had flashed across the screen, he didn’t hesitate to answer.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is David Rossi, right? Aaron gave me this number in the case of an emergency!” You rushed.

“Yes, this is Dave. You must be Y/N. Is everything alright?” Dave asked, waving off Emily’s look of confusion.

“Umm I’m just trying to get a hold of Aaron and he’s not answering and…I’m not sure how much information he gave you about me or anything, but screw it, now is not the time, I am in labor, and I need Aaron to get here like now.” You were rambling, but at this point you just didn’t care anymore, the contractions were pretty close together at this point and you were in far too much pain.

“Okay, don’t worry, we will get a hold of Aaron. What is your address, I will come and get you and drive you to the hospital. Unless you think you need an ambulance.”

“I don’t think I need an ambulance. If you or Aaron could get here to take me that would be ideal. I’m at our house, the address is 123 West Elm. The kids are both at school, someone will need to pick them up!” You were starting to panic, and Dave could tell.

“Don’t worry about that we will send someone to pick up the kids, I am on my way to you now. Do you want me to stay on the phone with you until I get there?” Dave was being so patient with you, and you couldn’t have been more grateful.

“Um, no that’s okay, I should really get my bag together and ready to go. Have you called Aaron yet?”

“Okay, you go ahead and get your bag, I will come to the door once I arrive. And I have Emily calling Aaron now, okay?”

“Okay, thank you Dave.”

“Of course. I will be there soon.”

Once he hung up the phone, he told Emily to dial Hotch’s number. She didn’t question him but ultimately, she was worried and confused by what was going on. The phone rang four times before Hotch finally answered. When he did, he immediately told Dave that they had a new lead that JJ and Morgan were actively looking into, it had been promising. Dave had to interrupt Aaron’s briefing to let him know that his wife was in labor and that they were currently headed to their house to get her to the hospital.

Aaron felt immediate panic, in more ways than one. First and foremost, his wife was in labor, and she was all alone, second this was a high-risk pregnancy and there was a chance that the four of them might not all make it through this birth, and last, his worlds that he had worked tirelessly to keep apart were officially colliding which meant your safety was now and forever compromised.

Once his brain calmed from the rapid-fire panic, he sprung into action. He’d given clear instructions; Dave was to take you to the hospital in your car while Emily drove the work issued SUV back to Quantico to continue working the case. He told Reid to continue on and if anyone were to ask, inform them that he had a family emergency. While rushing out of work and to his car he called your closest friend/coworker who had been running the café since you’d been on maternity leave, he asked if she could pick up your kids and drop them off with him at the hospital after the shop closes at 2pm. She was quick to agree and wished you a safe birth and claimed she couldn’t wait to meet the 3 peanuts!

Everyone stepped up and went to work on their respective tasks. Dave and you had gotten to the hospital in record time. You were quickly settled in a room and made as comfortable as possible. Aaron arrived with about five seconds to spare. Dave gave him a pat on his shoulder and let him know that he’d be in the waiting room to sit with your kids once they arrived as well as to see his “godchildren”. He claimed it was his right as he was the only one who knew about your relationship. Emily arrived back at Quantico and led the team through the remainder of the case which thankfully was closed within the next hour thanks to that lead JJ and Morgan had been following up on.

The next few hours went by in a flash, the case was closed with families being reunited, Jack and Norah had been dropped off with Dave, Aaron had supported you through what was arguably the most difficult childbirth known to woman (naturally birthing triplets is not recommended nor is it necessarily the safest option – unfortunately you hadn’t had a choice given how far progressed your labor had been when you’d arrived at the hospital), and the BAU team patiently waited for the announcement of your safely completed birth…only that announcement didn’t come. They sat and waited for what felt like hours before Aaron finally came out. He explained that you had hemorrhaged after the babies were delivered, the doctor had told him it had something to do with the placenta having not come out completely. Dave could see how distraught Aaron was…he couldn’t handle not knowing.

Things happened so fast, one minute you were being congratulated on bringing three beautiful babies into the world and the next doctors were scrambling to stop the bleeding. You could feel yourself fading, you had reached out for Aaron, and you were able to hold his hand for a second before he was shooed out of the room. You were taken to surgery so they could effectively stop the bleeding and remove the rest of the placenta. Thankfully surgery hadn’t taken long (to Aaron it had felt like an eternity).

The doctor came out to inform him that you were okay and had been moved to a private room along with your newborns. She explained that you would feel weak for a bit but would make a full recovery. She also let Aaron know that he and the rest of your group could go back to see you as long as they remained at an appropriate volume and that any non-family was gone by 8pm as visiting hours would be over. Aaron looked to his team.

“I know that you are all probably expecting an explanation, and while I do want to give that to you…”

“You want to go see your wife and kids.” Morgan interrupted.

Aaron smiled at how understanding his team was. “Thank you, give us a few minutes alone, then I will come and get everyone.” Aaron said as he reached to pick up Norah with his left arm and grab Jack’s hand with his right.

The team agreed and discussed going to grab snacks and coffee from the cafeteria.

Aaron made his way to your room as quickly as he could with two young children. When he arrived, relief crashed over him in a tidal wave and tears sprung to his eyes. He walked to your bedside, gently placing Norah to sit at your feet. He’d instructed Jack to sit in the chair that was on the opposite side so he would be able to see his new siblings. Aaron leaned in to kiss your forehead all the while he could hear the quiet coo’s coming from the three infants, he walked over to them, and you couldn’t help but smile. As you brushed a hand through Norah’s hair and reached to cup Jack’s cheek, you could hear Aaron whisper to the babies “You just couldn’t wait to meet your family, could you?”.

Aaron and you spent a bit of time just like this, your family, taking turns holding the babies or carefully monitoring your older children while they tried to hold the babies. Norah was elated to have three live baby dolls, while Jack seemed happy that she’d have someone new to bother all the time. Aaron huffed a laugh at their reactions and then looked to you.

“Have you thought about their names anymore?”

“I have…I think after seeing them, and seeing you with them, that they just seem right.”

“Well then, are you ready to meet everyone?”

“Yes!”

With that, Aaron made his way to the waiting room. He could see how antsy his team looked, but he couldn’t delineate if it was from wanting to meet you and the babies or from wanting to hear the story. When he posed the question to them, they had all agreed they wanted to see you and the babies first, then the two of you could explain everything. So that is what led to Aaron leading his six teammates to your room; before entering, he turned to everyone with a finger over his lips signaling for them to enter quietly.

Everyone entered the room, their eyes scanning to see you and the kids chatting quietly. You had looked up and smiled, quietly greeting the group of people you had learned so much about over the last year and a half. Hugs and congratulations were exchanged throughout the room, babies being passed from person to person, chairs being brought in from the hallway. Once everyone was comfortable the room fell silent, you could tell they were waiting for name announcements and more information about you and Aaron. You figured names were an easier start and a much shorter conversation.

“Alright, I suppose it’s time for you all to formally meet these three. Aaron and I have thought long and hard about what to name them and it has proven difficult up until this point. When I saw them for the first time, it all became clear to me. So, without further ado, I’d like to introduce you to David Thomas Hotchner, Millie Joy Hotchner, and Faye Emilia Hotchner.”

There were “ooohs” and “awws” throughout the room and misty eyes (though Dave swears it was an eyelash) There was discussion of who would be the godparents of which baby and plans of baby shopping over the upcoming weekend to make sure they were spoiled by all their new aunts and uncles. The team started to pose some personal questions at you, like if you had siblings or family nearby and what you did for a living and how you met Hotch.

“I guess now’s as good a time as any” you said looking over at Aaron. “The story of us…”

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metranart · 25 days

Text

My one and only wants you, so he’ll have you (Part 9)

ft. Sensei! Gojo Satoru, sensei! Suguru Geto, reader insert, slight! Megumi x reader.

Gojo Satoru and Suguru Geto happily married, you, their lovely student and the cause of their ragging temptation. The problem: their son, Megumi, your best friend.

𖦹 Warning tags: Gojo x Reader x Geto, threesome, married couple, Suguru and Gojo happy married couple, polyamory, Teacher-Student Relationship.

You were paralyzed, uncomfortable in your own skin. Sweating and shivering without the most minimal control. Sukuna had caught you. The bastard had the nose of a bloodhound, without a doubt he had smelled Gojo sensei's saliva on you, you should never have let him eat your pussy that same morning, you should never have fallen asleep in his house- Your lips trembled as if you wanted to give an answer but felt utterly inadequate to find the right words to deceive the King of Liars.

Ryomen Sukuna stared at you with those sickeningly smug eyes, waiting patiently for you to answer his question.

He knew he had hit the nail on the head, because Megumi's protests stopped the second, he spoke. Young Zenin was quiet now, his frame, maybe even tenser than yours and even though his forehead was smooth as silk, Sukuna could detect the negative feelings rushing out of him in waves. It was an interesting mix of betrayal, anger, jealousy and... hatred. The king of curses looked at him with something that resembled soft smugness, feeling more than pleasantly surprised at having find such a sublime mixture in the young Zenin’s aura.

Undoubtedly, YOU are the key to reach out to him and make him do whatever he wanted; YOU were his ticket to the body he wanted.

"I asked you a question, girl." Sukuna stressed. He felt amused, depravedly amused, yet kept remarkably composed for how ruthlessly he actually wanted to burst out laughing, "if you don't answer me with the truth in the next..." he glanced at Megumi teasingly, "what will it be, Megumi, in the next sixty seconds?"

Megumi just stared at him but did not make any judgment, his gaze blank, empty and lacking at the moment. The skin borrower ignored him with a snicker and continued his threat.

".... I’ll kill you, pretty girl.”

The king assured with a toothy, sharp grin stretching his lips, and just to put more pressure on you, slowly, more like sluggishly, caged you against the wall and his massive frame, pushing not only at your sanity by slowly moving his body closer and closer, until your back hit the wall and you could almost only see the tattoos marking his skin.

“One more thing, I’ll know if you are lying.”

Your gazes met and soon, the wicked countdown began.

“One, two, three-” his smile was mocking, nothing good about those canine incisors peeking out lethally, crimson eyes narrowed as if waiting for you to give yourself away, “four, five, six….” He sang without caring, avidly more pressure, your chest rose and fell agitatedly, your pupils were dilated, and your face had turned pale, and it was not only because of the invasive closeness of the king of curses but also for the situation, he had pushed you into.

Meanwhile, Megumi just stared at you, it was like he couldn't move either, his body was tense, and you could see a vein popping in his neck, his eyes were the most expressive thing about him, the more striking. Almost begging you to deny Sukuna’s foul statement, almost dying for you to say that it was a vile lie, and that Sukuna was wrong, Megumi would believe you, you just had to say it—he would believe you. He would gladly avert all suspicion and turn a blind eye just for the good fortune of returning to his blind and delusional fantasy in which, he was courting you to become HIS girlfriend. He was willing to let it go for now- later when you married, he would force you to vanish his tutors from your entire life, but first he needed you to love HIM and realize how good he could be to you-…. just please, disprove Sukuna, even if it is just a vile and pathetic lie, he tells himself every night, be on his side just this time and tell this Demon that his claim it's not true—

"Seven, eight, nine—" You didn't know what to do, could you lie to Sukuna... will it cost you your life to try?!

Sukuna smiled more evilly if that was even possible. His careless teasing made your stomach churn with horrible nausea; his voice so close felt even worse, everything spoken with his smirk seeped into it. You realized the very sound of Yuuji’s voice now would probably make you shiver in all the wrong ways after this, even in casual conversation.

Sparing you a moment, the king of curses glanced at his future body, Megumi, who did not move an inch, stiffer than a fucking rock, although the posture of his body spoke more than anything the boy could actually say… it was a clear afront to the King, screaming to him that if he dared to harm you, without a minute of delay, he would attack him. He would protect you even if it cost him his life. This handsome vessel, this Zenin boy was in love, madly in love with you... if a fight broke out, Sukuna would see himself forced to hurt him and that was the last thing he wanted to do, that body needed to be intact, perfect till the day he inhabite it—…. So, using his Machiavellian mind, the older spirit hatched a plan that would work best for his long-term goals.

“Seriously?” he huffed, staring at you in disbelief. "You certainly awaken many passions, girl." A glimpse of irritation twitched his brow but despite it, did not make a considerable split in his composure. He still could pretend to be aloof about this for much longer.

Once his mind was made, Sukuna began to lean his forehead until it was pressed against your shoulder, a movement slow and harmless enough that Megumi didn't feel compelled to act on it, and once close to your ear, he whispered just to you.

“You obviously don't want Megumi to find out what a little skank you are,” The pathetic gasp he received in turn made him chuckle, nevertheless, made Megumi narrow his beautiful blue eyes suspiciously, “so I have something to propose to you, little girl—”

You gulped shakenly and listened to Sukuna using Yuuji's borrowed lips whispering atrocious things to you, your pretty eyes widened from one moment to the next and out of the sudden, Megumi had his full.

“Stay away from her!”

A breathy, muffled snicker left Sukuna’s throat and then he went back down to whisper at your ear, filling your eardrums with far worse obscenities than he had previously. Straightening up, his dangerous gaze fell on you once again, and his knuckles caressed the blush painting your cheeks in a pretty pink before snicker a calm hiss and raise a hand in Megumi’s direction.

“Calm down, Megumi, no one likes jealous boys. It’s not an attractive quality.”

A pitiful wail climbed its way up your throat as Megumi's cheeks painted amusingly red and you felt your skin crawl uncontrollably. You couldn’t breathe; a tight gulp of air was caught in your lungs as his mere words thrashed against you wildly.

“Please —” you begged, eyes clamped shut, face hot, body going rigid with the promise of his mercy. “Please Sukuna— ”

"Just choose, princess."

You blinked back the hot tears and stared him down with as much of a pout as that of a frown.

“So do we have a deal, sorceress?” He whispered once more only to you, and you just looked at him with the same doomed shock as at the beginning.

“—I would accept it if I were you,” Sukuna continued, “Megumi would hate you otherwise, you don't want that, do you?”

A tear that you didn't even know was ready to burst out of your eye rolled down your cheek and Sukuna's grin sharpened, watching it roll away to then calmly stop it in its tracks with a thumb, your eyes on him as he stuck that salty, wet thumb into his mouth with a loud sound of satisfaction.

“Come on, ain’t that of a big deal. We both know you're not new to that—”

Your lips pursed in annoyance and unable to keep looking at the monster that wear your friend’s skin, you nodded your head with a deep, remorseful frown.

Sukuna snorted before letting out a laugh and taking a couple of steps back, he glanced at you and then his eyes went to Megumi.

“A pleasure to see you as always, Megumi.”

And just like that, the tattoos on his body started to fade away, leaving behind a totally and irrefutable, confused Yuuji.

“—(Y/N)? Megumi? What happened?"

You were too shocked to answer, and Megumi was as well, your stares meeting for a long minute before Megumi ended up breaking the awkward silence.

“You are finally back.” The raven-haired said in a monotonous voice. Yuuji grinned at him, and he responded with a certain determination but when he grinned at you, you didn't even see him, as if he were transparent. Making the goodhearted boy walk closer to you to wrap you in his strong arms, it was the warmth of that hug and the effusive aura of familiarity from him, that was so typical of Yuuji, that brought you back. Both young adults, sighing in relieve when you finally hugged him back.

“If Sukuna did something—” Yuuji asked worried and you denied your head, mutely.

Megumi remained silent, he wasn't stupid, but he refused to think badly of you, you certainly didn't make any deal with Sukuna, or anything like that—you certainly weren't desperate enough to do something so stupid—

“Megumi-” The boy in question glanced at him.

“—Was the curse even defeated?” Yuuji asked from the crook of your shoulder, “—is everyone okay?”

Megumi sensed the place and did not find the trace of cursed energy that there was before. So, he nodded once.

Yuuji sighed awfully relieved. “Well, at least we achieve that.” His arms wrapping tighter around you.

Soon the three of you heard the recognizable voice of Nobara calling at the distance and you unwrapped yourself from Yuuji, who allowed it just after he planted a sweet kiss on your forehead, to then playfully bump the tip of your nose. “Whateva Sukuna did or say, I won’t let him hurt anyone, I promise, (Y/N).”

Your eyes teared and you agreed weakly. If you only knew.

Eventually, the three of you started to head towards Nobara’s voice with Yuuji guiding the retreat, you just followed in silence and at a calm pace, and that's when you felt it.

Megumi's hand latched strongly in yours, his body now walking alongside you, his eyes never sparing you even a glance, only steady on the path ahead while he almost pulled you to follow his lead. Your confusion, palpable and he could easily sense it, even feel it since your heartbeat was drumming against his palm.

“—I'm the most understanding boyfriend, don’t you agree?” He said all of the sudden, “but even I have my limits, (Y/N).”

Everything was like a soft murmur except the title which was supposed to still be under discussion.

“Wow, are you guys already a couple?” You heard Yuuji ask, glancing over his shoulder without stop walking, cheerfully.

Finally, Megumi's blue eyes landed on you, and you felt again out of breath, you didn't know what to say, you couldn't say no, but you couldn't say yes either... You didn't want to lose Megumi, you didn't want to lose Gojo and Geto, shit! Say something, you have to say something—

Your lips parted hesitantly and in a pitiful and ephemeral whisper you condemned yourself, because without a doubt, that answer would make you lose someone.

COMING SOON PART 10....

➡️ NSFW ARTWORK OF THIS STORY

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vivysnights · 1 month

Text

TW: NSFW, fem bodied reader, use of f*ck, smut, exes to lovers, hurt/comfort, make up s*x, unhealthy dinamics (don't blame me Fyodor is a warning himself), possesive behaviour (if anyone treats you like that please run away) Fyodor might be ooc and whipped for the reader, teasing, both parts acting immature (communication is the key people), no use of y/n, breeding kink, After reading ep 117 please don't hate my pookiebear 😞

Word count: 6.6k (I don't know what came over me so enjoy)

Click here for part 1

✧₊⁺.𖥔 ݁ ˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁.𖥔 ݁ ˖₊⁺✧

Yeah, I want it all (from you)

Bye, bye, baby

Bye, bye, bye~

⁀➴

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Don't you know who you're dealing with?

Um, do you think you'll buy me lots of diamonds?

(Yes, of course I will my darling)

⋆⭒˚｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Blurring the lines between real and the fake

Dark and lonely, I need somebody to hold me

He will do very well

I can tell, I can tell

Keep me safe in his belltower hotel

He's loving my look

And I'm loving all his strategic ways

I said "do you think you'll kill for me one day?"

(Yes, of course I will, my darling)

:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺:･ﾟ✧:･.☽˚｡･ﾟ✧:･.:

Life was not easy—at least for you. Actually, the last few weeks have been a living hell. Well, the issue was your ex-husband. Fyodor. You tried everything you could to ignore him, but failed miserably. But why was he so stubborn and casual to the extent that it got on your nerves? Why, out of nowhere, was he talking to you about the weather and then suddenly asking you why you had eye bags? Or were you sleeping enough and well? Sometimes hiding your frustration was difficult. You nearly thought that he was doing all of it on purpose. That sneaky bastard. So, your day looked like this: go outside and accidentally run into your ex-husband, try to avoid him at all costs, hide, and fail miserably.

After that, go home and spend the entire day and night thinking about how to avoid seeing his face again. But he was appearing out of nowhere at the times when you least expected him. All of this was difficult because he was exceptionally smart and always a step ahead. And a little bit hot. He couldn't see your thoughts, right? If so, you would be in trouble. Because the last time he drove you into a corner, his body was incredibly close to yours that you could hear nothing but your own heartbeat.

Also, the 'worst' part was how he touched you so softly, just like how you liked it. Like after your exhausting day at work, when the only thing you craved was nothing but his touch, and how you two only breathed in each other's presence while clinging to one another. But whatever it was, only remained the past now. But the most absurd part was you getting nervous and not even making eye contact with him. Damn, why was it so hard? He shouldn't have any meaning to you or a place in your heart anymore. Look at him, already healed and living his life as if mocking you. So why did you feel so stuck and frustrated?

So you gave him indifferent answers like "Oh, I'm fine" or "Yeah, the weather is quite nice today. Isn't it, Mr. Dostoevsky?" Oh, so you knew how to push his buttons, didn't you? You naive doll. His eyes changed to the darkest shade of purple. Reminding him of something that he didn't want to remember or even acknowledge was on his mind like a disease: the fact that you two were indeed divorced. That you weren't his—at least on paper. Well, what else could he expect? By staying by his side like the cute, clever thing you are, you've eventually learned a few tricks too, but who knew that you would be using them against him? But then he smiled....Oh, that smile that you adored...But it felt rather cold.

So there you were trying to build up a wall between yourself and him, and there he was angry and in fight with his heart. And now the formality? Yes, it was laughable indeed. Of course, it was reasonable that you would not act...as you did before the divorce. It was normal, right? So he took a step back from you, smiled again, and said goodbye as if you were an old friend of his and like he was going to see you again.

And there you were, standing dumbfounded and trying to process everything while he was smirking and humming a song to himself and walking away from you like it was a normal encounter. Well, who knows what was going through his mind? Maybe he was up to some mischief? You didn't bother to think about it since your heart was beating abnormally fast.

But for now, seeing him wasn't the main problem because you had a wedding to attend—your friend's wedding. To be honest, you aren't the most excited person about this event. Maybe you've become numb to your feelings, or 'he' was just appearing from the darkest parts of your mind. Was it always like this? Even when he wasn't by your side, he was the only thing you could think about.

He didn't play some dirty tricks on you, did he? So, just to clear your mind, you put on your dress, apply your makeup, and get into the taxi in case it starts to rain on your way. It was a cloudy day. What lovely weather for a wedding, isn't it? The wedding was held in a luxurious place in the city. Affording a place that expensive must have been hard on them since they weren't that rich in the first place, which is none of your business, but going to places like that felt a little weird 'cause it only reminded you about those days you've wished to forget. After getting out of the taxi, gray clouds greeted you.

It was becoming clear that not bringing an umbrella with you was a bad idea. You began walking inside the building to take the elevator. A sigh left your lips. It felt like it was going to be a long night. It has been a long time since you went into a crowd like this. But it was refreshing to talk to old friends and have chats with people. It made you forget your worries and feel a little freer. The place was pleasant, just like how you liked it. You got some champagne and began slowly sipping. You promised yourself that you weren't going to drink more than one glass, so you were going to cherish this one glass of champagne well.

Your head hurt a little because of all the chatter and music. The lights weren't helping either. So you decided to get away from the crowd a little bit. Taking your only friend—a glass of champagne—with you to the nearest window close to the terrace, you looked outside briefly. Well, it was raining cats and dogs outside. Another sigh left your lips. The sound of raindrops falling down the window and the accompanying sound of thunder were putting your mind at ease, even just a little bit. At least it was distracting you from your thoughts. So you take another sip and try to come up with things that were nice about this place.

The place was to your liking, your friend was happy, you got your drink with you, and many people were there—many, many people, actually. It was crowded. Maybe if you stayed long enough, you got to eat a slice of cake. Many people you didn't even know greeted you, gave you compliments and kissed your hand as a compliment—a gesture to show their interest in you. Yes.....it was a wonderful wedding indeed. Your battery was low, so eating cake might make you feel a little better.

So you decided to take a slice for yourself. But as you passed through all these people with your remaining energy, one of them caught your attention. His back was turned to you, but you could tell who he was in an instant. He was a little far away from you, in a distant corner of the place. At first, you decided your brain was playing games with you, or maybe you were drunk, but your glass was only half empty. So you instantly took a turn on your heels and hurried in the opposite direction. Why in all of those people he was here? He wore a black suit, but he didn't have his jacket on.

He was holding it on his arm while his hands were in his pockets and talking to some businessmen that you were sure had enough money to buy an island on a random day because the city was too noisy for their liking. Also, the important thing here was that 'he' didn't even know the groom and wasn't that close to your friend to be invited to her wedding. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your palms were sweaty. Your only choice was getting out of here without him noticing you. Luckily, the bride was close to you, so you could just say goodbye to her and make up a story to leave early.

You exchange greetings with the bride and groom and try to keep the conversation as short as possible. The groom asks you if you like the place or not. So absentmindedly, you say yes, and the words coming out of his mouth make you lose your composure completely.

"Man, Dostoevsky surely has good taste. If it weren't for him, we wouldn't be able-"

The bride squeezes his arm and tells him to shut up. "W-what?" Is the only thing that comes out of your mouth after hearing his words.

But your friend just laughs nervously and tries to change the topic and starts to ask you questions about whether the cake is to your liking or not and other things that you can't comprehend at the moment. So you just murmur a short "goodbye" to both and start to walk away as if you didn't hear 'his' name coming out of the groom's mouth just a second ago. Your steps become faster as the seconds pass. With a still half-empty champagne glass you still hold in your hand that you forgot to put away, the only thing that could be heard was the sound of your high heels in the corridor that led to the elevator.

Seeing him at the wedding completely caught you off guard. What was he doing in a place like that? Also, when did he become that close to the groom to the extent that he helped him to afford a place this expensive? He wasn't the type to help someone he'd just met.

Oh......That sly man..... he knew you would come to this place so he could tease you until the end. Yes, that must be it, or you were just overreacting and he didn't care about you. Well, thinking about the latter made your heart swell. While thinking about these things, your fingertip met the buttons on the corridor for the elevator.

After pressing it, your fingers brushed against the skin on your neck and began to scratch it. It was an old habit of yours that you hated because it would give away the fact that you were anxious. Most of the time, you would make your skin bleed and hurt for weeks. To avoid this, you pressed the button again, as if pressing it repeatedly would make the elevator move faster. The sounds of the raindrops, the faint noises of the people, and the music could still be heard from the place that you were standing. That stupid glass of champagne was still in your hand.

The feeling to facepalm yourself was quite strong, but the sound of the elevator's door opening prevented that from happening. You entered quickly, pressed the button, and waited for the door to close inch by inch. The relief of being able to go home was spreading through your whole body. But— when the sliding door of the elevator was just about to close completely, a hand stopped that from happening. You held your breath because last-minute interruptions never signaled anything good for you—it was what you believed at least. The sliding door of the elevator revealed the person you wanted to see the last—it was none other than Fyodor.

He was there standing, one hand in his pocket, the other hand pushing the door of the elevator further to reveal your shocked figure. When your eyes met, your heart stopped, your breath hitched, and he was just standing, looking at you like he was devouring you, devouring your presence. None of you talked for a few seconds, and the only thing heard was a distant thunder in the background. Then he opened his mouth:

"Good evening, my dear. Running off when it is raining this much and with a drink in your hand is such a pleasant sight to see."

Yes, you could die from embarrassment right this moment. Not just you failed to run away but also looked stupid.

"Mr. Dostoevsky, good evening to you too. But I'm in a hurry, so—"

He raised one of his eyebrows and tilted his head slightly in amusement.

"Well, surely I can see that you are in a hurry. But dear, I don't quite understand the reason why."

Oh, how he liked to ask questions that he knew its answers to. He knew exactly why, but teasing you was much fun for him. Again, you weren't making eye contact with him and now playing with the hem of your dress to distract yourself from the fact that you were again, fell right into his plan. So you just turn your head to the side to avoid his question and give him the impression that he never asked you anything in the first place. Now his patience was running quite low. He spoiled you a lot didn't he? There is awkward silence that you can't stand, so you try to look at him from the corner of your eye without him noticing.

But when you do so, he is already staring at you with his deep purple eyes. His hand finds your chin in a quick but gentle touch and turns your head, so now your eyes are directly looking into his.

"My, my, you are not thinking of leaving when it is raining this much and it is also a shame that roads are closed too."

He steps into the elevator and casually presses a button inside. So now you are alone with him in the elevator and incredibly close to each other. Your plan failed with the doors of the elevator closing behind him.

"W-what are you doing?"

A chuckle leaves his lips as if you said something funny. His hand moves away from your chin as he steps aside; his warmth is now gone.

"Well, you are not planning to stay outside in this weather? Am I correct? There are rooms available for guests to stay the night. Aren't they very thoughtful? So I'm taking you to one, to rest for the night."

Oh, you weren't a step behind but several. But you were so sick, sick of all of this. His teasing and plans were too much for you to handle at this moment. Letting your emotions take the lead wasn't a wise decision; you were trying so hard not to. Elevator's door open and he steps outside and waits for you to come to his side, but you don't and stand on your heels. He was not going to let you get soaked and sick in this weather, or do something careless given your emotional state, so he takes your hand into his, even though he is only wrapping his hand around yours, and takes you to the so-called 'guest's room'. No words come through your mouth while your mind is screaming. You start to scratch your neck again. You want to hurt him, scream at him, and make him understand your feelings when he looks this comfortable. Your eyes start to fill with tears from frustration.

When he lets go of your hand and opens the door for you with a card that he's taken out of his pocket.

"My dearest, I wish you goodnight."

He takes that stupid champagne from you, and the things he makes leave you confused. He wraps his hand around your wrist that is scratching your skin and removes your gloves in a calm manner and puts them inside his pocket. Now, without your gloves that completed your outfit, you feel a little cold and a little bit vulnerable. He leans in slightly, taking your hand to his lips and kissing it before lifting his head and meeting your gaze. When your teary eyes meet his possessive ones, a chill runs down your spine. He squeezes your hand lightly.

Shit, even like that, he wants to ruin you. but fuck your eyes sparkling with tears just because of him makes him want to eat you whole so that nobody but only him could see you. That bastards who don't know their places putting their hands on yours so carelessly boils him with rage. They all should know that you only belong to him. So he continues to plant kisses on your hand, and now to your wrist. He sucks into your skin and licks it after to ease its pain so deliciously that it leaves you confused.

You don't understand why he is doing all of this. His soulless eyes, filled with darkness, only stare into yours as you free your hand from his. He turns and walks away, leaving you on the edge of the door. He is going to throw away those gloves that those filthy sinners' lips touched. He is beyond annoyed; no, he is going to burn those gloves first, then those foolish men later. Perhaps after that he will be satisfied. Your heart and mind were racing and your lips open to say the words that was going to make Fyodor stop in his tracks.

"Fyodor, I hope that my absence eats you whole."

He stops from thinking what to do to these men to comprehend your words. You wanted to hurt him, hurt his pride, and show him his own vulnerability. Well, actually, you did that. He wasn't planning to turn in his tracks according to his plan. But fuck, somehow when you were involved in his plans, they always seemed to crumble. A sound to show his dissatisfaction left his lips. He was just going to plant the seeds in your head to get you to come back. Then his plan would proceed. You're really something else.

He drank the remaining champagne in his hand in one sip, and his eyes staring to one point left to meet your back that was now turned to him. You were going inside the room in slow motion. His quick steps towards you and your quiet sobs were the only thing that could be heard beside the rain outside. With force now you were now inside the room and the door was closed shut behind you, but the shocking part was a sound of thud next to the console table and couple arms embracing you. His hand was encircling your waist and pressing your body into his further, not letting you go from his grasp.

His one hand now going upwards while caressing where he could reach, he held your chin and lifted it to meet your face now that was wet with tears. Why he always had to look like a madman when you were around?

"You have no idea what you do to me, don't you?"

His tone was cold, so was his eyes. Now you looking up to him with your doe eyes and the hitching of your breath with your sobs was a sight to see. There was no way he could let another man see you like this. How could he? He would break any hand that could reach to you and make them drown in their own blood.

"My love..."

He tucked your hair behind your ear, exposing your neck to him. He lowered his head to your neck, breathed in your scent gently and pressed a kiss to your pulse.

"My heart..."

You could hear your heartbeat. He moved slowly towards your ear.

"Don't worry your pretty head over everything. I will get all of it figured out for you."

Like he wasn't the main cause of all of this. Was he asking for forgiveness now? A loud sob escaped your lips.

" 'm tired" of you

His hair touching the side of your face and his voice near your ear made you feel weak in your legs.

"I know"

He let go of your chin and held your wrist, guiding your arm as you turned your face to him. Now that your face was turned to him, he could take a look at you properly. He missed your warmth, your gentle demeanor, and you. His hand moved from your wrist to your hand, guiding it to his lips before kissing the palm of your hand. His other hand found your waist and pressed your lower body against his again. Your free hand gripped the front of his suit. Your sobs are now louder. He was waiting, waiting for a hint for your forgiveness and acceptance. He wasn't going to force himself onto you; he wasn't a sinful man like that.

"If you allow me, my love, I will make it all work between us."

You were shocked and speechless. Was he really asking you to accept him back into your life? It was still raining outside; the room was nothing but ordinary—a king-sized bed with breathtaking scenery outside.

"Don't you see, sweetheart? All of it was just for you today. Put your trust in me once more, as you always do, and don't think anything else."

You knew better than anyone else that when he promised, all the words came out of his mouth were absolute truths that had yet to become true whenever he talked to you. Because he would never lie to you about serious things.

"You are still in my heart and always on my mind. You are no good for me. I know that too, but—"

With a swift motion, Fyodor leads you inside and toward the wall by releasing his grip on your wrist and putting his other hand behind your back to quickly wrap around your waist. He pressed your back completely to the wall while pressing his whole body into yours. And he kissed you feverishly, rough with a sense of claiming. Your head was spinning. He kissed, sucked, and bit your lower lip. It felt so good that you were falling apart under his touch. So you held him like your life depended on him, you held his neck, deepened the kiss, and leaned to him more with desperation.

You were running out of breath but couldn't stop kissing him. You returned his kiss with the same desire. You could feel heat building up in your stomach. A moan vibrated through your throat. His palm found the back of your thigh, grasped it, and lifted it to press further into you as he slowly rubbed his groin into yours. A groan escaped his lips. His hand rose higher and higher until it reached the hem of your dress and up to the curve of your ass and caressed, squeezed it with force. When you two pull away from each other, there was a string of saliva connecting you two. His body felt warm against yours.

He was going to make up to you in every way possible. He was going to worship your body tonight, just as he did every day when he got down on his knees to pray to God. You looked stunning like that, his angel, your hair a little tangled, your eyes hazy and filled with desire. Your lips briefly connected again, and he encouraged you to part them so that his tongue could enter and explore your mouth. Not feeling his skin under your touch was unbearable, so you started to loosen his tie and pull him more while your other hand tried to unbutton his vest and shirt. He smirked against your lips before parting for a second.

"Eager, are we?"

You blushed and glanced away from him just to meet his eyes a second later while slightly nodding.

"Mmph"

Fyodor cursed quietly in his native language. You were just so his and obedient it made his dick twitch in his pants. He pecked your lips again and began sucking on the skin of your neck, opening the zip in the back of your dress and causing it to fall to the floor. You wrapped your hand around his neck and massaged his head while breathing deeply. Quiet moans escaped your lips and it only made the bulge in his pants bigger.

His lips on your neck leaving marks, an evident sign that you were his, and licking just to bite after to make you whimper was delightful to his ears. Fyodor began to lead you to bed, holding you impossibly close to his body. The back of your leg hit the edge of the bed, and he laid you gently on it, his eyes dark with a glint of lust, he was nearly fully clothed, he looked at you with pure hunger while you were only in your underwear and bra.

"Myshka, you only wore that dress just to drive me mad with temptation, didn't you? Oh darling, even when you are not aware of it, your mind desires to please me."

That dress was his anniversary present to you; you never got to wear it, though, due to circumstances you don't want to remember right now. Maybe you picked that dress unknowingly or maybe on purpose. Who knows? He began unbuttoning the remaining buttons while looking down at you. Your panties were getting wetter by the second under his gaze.

"So now tell me."

He slowly took off his vent and tossed it aside while maintaining eye contact.

"Did any man lay their hands on you while you weren't by my side?"

He was teasing you; you knew it, and he knew it well too. You couldn't just let any man touch you, no.

"Took of your bra."

So your hands moved to your back to remove your bra. He was staring at you intensely, his hands on the sides of your thighs, stroking them gently. When you took it off, he let out a pleasant hum. When your hands reached the ends of your panties, he stopped you with his voice.

"Keep them on, darling."

Fyodor began to unbutton his shirt and tossed it aside. His pale, lean, yet muscular skin was visible. The bulge in his pants is evident to your eyes. He leaned in while putting his body between your legs, parting them further.

"My eyes are up here pretty."

He loved teasing you and making you a blushing mess.

"Now tell me, did they touch you here?"

He kissed your clavicle tenderly and bit just to get a reaction out of you. A gasp escaped you.

"N-no" He licked it and continued to leave kisses alongside your breast, just to stop and look into your needy eyes once again. He leaned in and bit your earlobe before whispering into your ear.

"How about here?"

His hand cupped your breast and gave it a light squeeze. A sigh escaped you.

"N-never"

A hum vibrated through your ear.

"Yeah, just like that, keep being my good girl."

He leaned to take your nipple inside his mouth and giving it a light suck, his hot tongue was sucking the bud while playing with your other nipple, rolling it between his fingers to not neglect it.

He left marks there too. Your moans grew louder; your hand grabbed and tugged his dark hair, earning a growl from him. He continued kissing your skin down to your belly, your back arching into his touch. Your underwear was damp with your wetness, and your pussy was aching with the desire to be filled. Fyodor kept you steady with his hands to stop you from closing your legs against his body.

"Myshka, behave" It was impossible since it had been so long since you felt this way.

"'M sorry."

He lowered himself to lick a long strand of your clothed heatness. Your breathing quickened, and your hand closed your mouth to muffle your moans.

Fyodor looked up to you and sucked the fabric and started to push his tongue against your clit earning more whines from you. God, you were beautiful and all his to ruin. He could feel your hole twitching and your panty getting soaked with your juices.

His hand found the hem of your panties and waited for you to look at him.

"Then what about here, darling?"

You were desperate and craving for him; your answer didn't disappoint him.

"N-no Fyodor, never!"

His name spilling out of your mouth so deliciously made his member twitch in anticipation. So before he took it off, he prevented you from closing your mouth by taking one of your hands into his.

Then he took it off in one smooth movement, your juices glistening, your hole twitching with want, he hummed and buried himself between your legs, licking and kissing your pussy with fever. His nose bumping against your clit made you moan loudly. His face between your heat, his tongue working skillfully to tease your nerve endings, his lips kissing and slurping your arousal with sinful noises were starting to get you to the edge. Your free hand gripped his hair to make him go faster.

"A-ahh"

His other hand, keeping you down, opened your thighs even more. Your sounds only made his pants tighter. Fyodor started to move faster; your taste only made him hungrier; his hand on your thigh now started to caress your walls to find the spot that made you see stars. He began stretching you by adding a second finger, while his tongue lapped at your wet folds. He stretched you with his fingers, and he couldn't help but let a moan escape. All sensations were becoming overwhelming, and Fyodor felt your walls clench around his fingers.

"M-mh n-nnagh F-Fyo I-I'm-"

He knew you were close, so he found the spot that made you weak, bent, and rubbed his fingers to stimulate it continuously. You pulled his hair harder and desperately tried to move your hips against his face with need. You heard him groan; he added another finger, and you were beyond gone, cumming andcrushing down while moaning loudly. Your body squirmed as he helped you ride out your orgasm. You felt dizzy and gasped for air as your juices dripped down his chin. The sight was filthy and hot at the same time. He gathered your juices in his fingers, sucked on them with lust, and looked deeply into your eyes. The sight caused you to moan again.

"You taste divine, my dear."

Then he started kissing you with the same lust, tasting yourself on his tongue made you squirm again. Your hands caressed his back and you kissed him back. He lowered his groin and pressed it into your wet pussy, making you whimper into his mouth while grinding his rock hard member against you. He placed his hands on your hips to make you grind against him harder, earning a muffled moan from you. The heat pooling in your stomach once again, making the front of his pants wet with your juices, you hear him moan into your lips. Fyodor moves away from you, his belt clinking. He looks at you like he's about to devour you whole.

So you accept him once again. He takes his pants off alongside his boxers, revealing his cock, his tip dripping with precum. First, he makes you comfortable on the bed and puts your legs to his sides, revealing your pussy to him more, his behavior turning you on more and more. Your sight sends shivers down his spine, and he has to restrain himself from taking you right here and there. Your sweaty form, lustful eyes, and eagerness are only fueling the fire. He pulls you closer to him, making your legs wrap around his waist. He strokes himself a few times before looking back at you. Your walls are clenching around nothing and feeling empty.

He uses his tip to gather around your fluids to lubricate his dick then slowly circling your entrance with it while pulling cute noises from you.

"F-fyodor, please don't tease me anymore."

He chuckles coldly.

"What happened to Oh, Mr. Dostoevsky, hmm?"

He slowly pushes himself. A gasp leaves you, your walls sucking him in for more, leaving Fyodor nearly breathless, he growls.

"Mmph- Aah-ah—that—you know why."

He's halfway through, and your warmth is already intoxicating.

"Well do I?"

He was not foolish or sinful like those around him. He had a greater purpose. But now he was kneeling and worshipping your body. Maybe loving someone only led to sin in the best ways possible. You couldn't let him go; you know it is toxic. But damnit, he lets it happen. He spoiled you too much, didn't he? Now he can't predict anything—any emotions, to be precise. These are his feelings, but he is unable to understand or rationalize them. It irritates him if he can't control it or twist it to his liking. Oh, God, help his pure soul. He pushes himself all the way in one go, taking you by surprise with a whimper. Leaning down into you, he pushes you down into missionary, his elbows on the sides of your head, slowly pulling his cock in and out of you as your moans got louder.

He is in no better shape, but he was trying not to show it while gasping for air. Your gummy walls squeezing him tight and already milking him, your whines close to his ear making it hard for him to keep his composure. He starts moving faster, hitting your G spot along the way. Your hands on his back, scratching his pale skin, and your legs pulling him closer only feeding his possession more. He gazes into your eyes, thrusting faster and rougher. Your eyes were cloudy just like the weather and now they were tearing up, but this time with pleasure. You look back at him, your resentful eyes only turning him on more.

Oh, how he loves those eyes of yours. Picking up the pace, he leans in and puts more weight on you. While panting for more air, he thrusts one more time and places his lips near your chin and whispers:

"Myshka isn't my side of the bed cold? Don't you want me to come back to you?"

Your legs tightening and trembling around him, you couldn't see his face but only could hear the squelching sounds from where you two were connected and your moans with the sound of rain. A white ring was forming in the base of his cock while you were meeting his thrust feverently. As he sinks deeper into you, you could feel your climax approaching. Your mind clouded with pleasure, you answer him.

"Fuck Fedya, yes!"

Yes, yes, yes, call him like that again and fuck yes, he will destroy the world if you want. Yes, he will buy you a house fuck even with the one with a lake. Then again, he will fuck you as much as you want him to. Who exactly is he fooling? He is yours eternally, just as you are his for a lifetime. God must have been playing games with his mind. Oh, your eyes and how they look under the moonlight. Oh, how he likes it even more when they get all shimmery with tears all because of him. Since he is the only one who can bring heaven to you with such pleasure. All his, all fucking his.

That nickname, his name, coming out of your mouth only makes his dick harder and balls tighter. Chasing his own high with you, he speeds up and places his thumb on your clit, playing with it to push you over the edge. Thick tears making their way down to your face to his hair. He raises his head and with his thick Russian accent, he curses between his teeth once again.

"I gave you what you have wanted, didn't I, darling? So why are you crying right now? How petty."

Such simple and heartbreaking words coming out of his mouth as if he isn't the one who is actually acting petty. How laughable isn't it? But he can't let you see him this vulnerable. The knot in your lower belly threatening to snap anytime makes you desperate for your own release.

"You gotta use your words, pretty."

"I-I'm- aghhh- I'm coming."

Your toes curling, juices drenching the sheets, holding him close with your legs, your climax washes over your body once again. Your gummy walls clamping down on his shaft and welcoming him once more. He groans and pushes you into the mating press and chases his own high. He captures your lips once again and gives you a deep but sloppy kiss while pushing your legs more apart. If he fucks a baby into you, you wouldn't try to run away, right? Since you would carry the obvious sign that you belonged to him. So those trashy guys won't dare to lay their filthy hands on you ever again.

If they do, he will erase them from existence. He moans to your lips, the thought of you carrying his child, with full of his seed, pushing him over the edge as he thrusts again, spilling thick robs of cum inside you, his eyes rolling back. He pushes his dick deeper into you, ensuring that nothing goes to waste. You whimper and kiss him back as tears fall once more, this time from overstimulation. When he recovers from his high, he pulls his dick out and rolls to the side.

Gently pulling you into a hug to his chest, facing him, you hug him back and kiss his Adam's apple softly. You felt tired and sleepy; for a few minutes, you two just stayed like that.

"So Mrs. Dostoevsky want me to draw a warm bath for you?"

You were flushed and slowly drifting off to sleep. The only thing you could mutter was a quiet "mmhm" and a slight tilt of your head.

Rain was still hitting the windows, as if it were trying to sing you a lullaby. The last thing you heard before falling asleep was a faint chuckle, followed by a couple of arms wrapping around your body, enveloping you in a familiar warmth.

Well, you were gonna come back to him one way or another. He knew that; he was sure of it, of course, since he is smart, right? When you come back to him and accept his vulnerability, once again he will let it happen because you are his. He can't predict what will happen in the future with you because God must have created such a bond that even after everything, you are still drawn to him, and he will always accept his pure girl to his hell and cherish ruin his angel. He can't create heaven nor go to one, but he will do everything to bring one to you.

But now Fyodor wasn't sleeping, but rather watching how your little body was wrapped around his—all vulnerable and untainted—to his liking, of course. He squeezed your body slightly in a possessive manner, pressing his body deeper into yours. He will make all the ways back to him for you. He was going to make it happen. So you could return to him. Because you're his innocent wife. How foolish of you to believe that a simple piece of paper could end your relationship with him. He was certain that God created you specifically for him to hold, caress, and breed. Everything happened only so you could return to where you belong, as God intended.

A few disagreements aren't the problem when you are in his arms like this, being all beautiful and innocent. How pure and filthy, how separating and unifying. Even God had his favorites, so it is normal that you also have a little privilege for yourself. How magnificent, right?

Because you are still his, and always will be. He will make sure of it.

Taglist: @sssarrrra @fyology @literatureloverx

So just for you guys to know I’ve never touched a man in my life. I didn't even feel anything romantic towards someone but here I am writing fanfiction about a death author dude who is probably +500 years old in an anime and I'm calling him bbg and the love of my life. Huh 😮‍💨 life is really full of surprises. It was my first time writing smut so please be nice I tried my best okay? 🥺🙏 Also English is not my first language so if there are any grammatical mistakes forgive this pookie (me🥺). Hope you like it tho. Comments, reblogs are greatly appreciated 💜

#fyodor bsd #bsd fyodor #bsd smut #bsd fyodor x reader #fyodor x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader #fyodor x you #bsd x reader #hurt/comfort #bsd x you #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky smut #fyodor bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs fyodor #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x you

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wlntrsldler · 7 months

Text

shades of cool | luke castellan

part two to how to disappear

a/n: happy endings don't exist on this page.

i. and when he calls, he calls for me and not for you; he lives for love, he loves his drugs, he loves his baby too.

“hermes is angry.”

you knew it was your mother before you even saw her. the two, white doves cooing in the middle of downtown berkeley gave her away. although you hadn’t spoken to her in months, too afraid and too upset to put your faith in the hands of the gods since the night at the pier, your mother tried to get your attention every day. the flowers bloomed like clockwork. on your way to class, red and orange bunches sprouted from the corner of your eye. the once welcome reminder of luke turned bitter and painful. it was as if your mother was mocking you for losing him, for losing love. you felt as if you disappointed her, the daughter of the goddess of love, unable to experience it for herself. it was pathetic, really.

you tucked your hair behind your ears, suddenly feeling self-conscious with aphrodite’s eyes on you. she was your mother, sure, and she’d been a better parent to you than most, but she was still a goddess– the goddess of beauty at that. your arms were crossed over your chest, eyebrows furrowed, “why?”

she didn’t answer your question just yet, but she studied your face, eyes scrutinizing the marks of imperfections. she reached over to run her thumb across the bags under your eyes. “you’ve aged, my child.”

you fought the urge to roll your eyes. this was normal with your mother. she made these snide comments about your appearance, but her comments to you were not nearly as bad as what she said to your siblings, and especially not as bad as what other godly parents put their kids through. you could handle a few jabs here and there. you shrugged, “not all of us have the power of eternal youth.”

she nodded, pulling her thumb away, “we have not talked in a while.”

“been busy,” you lied, chewing on your bottom lip. you tugged on the scarf around your neck, wanting to keep your hand occupied as you avoided her gaze. you wondered if your mother missed you, if she actually cared about you. in the weird way that gods do, you suppose that she did care, but you wondered if she cared about you the way a mother would; worry about your safety when you went out at night, worry if you were wearing enough layers in the winter, mundane things like that. “college and stuff, you know.”

“hmm,” she hummed, unconvinced. she motioned for the two doves perched on the tree branch to fly away. they obeyed her, circling around each other in a dance, before flying away in separate directions, away from the both of you. “how many more years do you have left?”

“another two after this and then i’m done.” it was odd talking to her like this, in her human form, like she was a normal mother who was just curious about college and her daughter’s future. maybe she even sounded a little bit proud of you; a child of aphrodite, making a name for herself outside of the life she was dealt. “hopefully, i’ll make it to graduate school.”

a heavy tension hung in the air as your words echoed. aphrodite’s eyes narrowed, thinking. she looked up at the sky, before repeating herself. “hermes is angry.”

you stared at her, waiting for her to continue. there was an unreadable expression on her face, somewhere between anger, pain, and desperation, but it wasn’t her own emotions that she carried. she was mirroring someone, as if their pain was so unbearable, aphrodite herself had to shoulder some of it to save them. the gods were selfish. most of the time, they thought of nobody but themselves, but there were some moments when they showed compassion, when they showed mercy to mortals and demigods alike.

“his son resents him,” she continued, eyes closing like she was picturing it in her mind. “he is angry at me because his son prays to me instead of him.”

“mom, i don’t want to hear this,” you sighed, anger rising in your system. you knew she knew how you felt about the situation. you’d ignored her attempts to talk frequently. “he made his decision. he’s betrayed us all.”

“i cannot ignore him, don’t you understand?” she looked at you, eyes glossed over in a pleading manner. she looked too human. it was unsettling. “his love is loud. he is desperate. i am the goddess of love and i cannot ignore him while he suffers, even if he makes me his enemy.”

“the other gods listen to his prayers to me because i can no longer carry the burden on my own. it is too much, my child,” she shuddered, “all he talks of is you.”

you stared at her, internalizing her words. a shiver went down your spine as you looked at her, “i don’t understand why you’re telling me this.”

“i have tried to tell you, but you’ve been stubborn,” aphrodite frowned, “you do not pray, you do not make your offerings. you have not spoken to your siblings since that night. you have disappeared from this life as if you were not part of it at all.”

“because i didn’t ask for this!” you screamed. “i don’t want anything to do with this, mom. losing luke… it killed me. you know this. i can’t go back there and i can’t make offerings to you or the gods when you all are the reason why he did what he did!”

since that night, you began to question your blind faith in the gods. you’d been taught to worship them and you did because you had to. you were luckier than most, being the favorite of your mother, so you never went against the gods. you thought you had no reason to, until luke began talking to you. he planted seeds of distrust for the gods in you, learning about thalia, meeting annabeth and learning her story from luke, what luke had to go through during his quest. how did the gods sit back and leave their children for dead? but you always believed there was a purpose for all of this, and it provided you with some misguided comfort. then, luke left everyone who’d ever loved him because the anger in his soul won against all odds, and you knew there was no reason to trust them anymore.

if the gods were all-mighty and all-powerful, how could they let him grow so angry and accept this fate? how dare they ignore him and ruin him? he was kind. he was patient. he was luke. he deserved more than what they gave him. all of you do. aphrodite blinked, trying to understand you. a look of panic flashed across her features, her human form slowly peeling away, but you could see her pulling back.

“i’m not saying i’m joining him,” you sighed, rubbing your face with your hands, “i’m just saying what he said to percy made sense. luke had a point. the gods were horrible to him and to all demigods. hermes has no right to be angry with you, or with luke. he should be angry at himself. all of you should be.”

“i can’t forgive luke for what he did,” you whispered, voice calming after a rumble of thunder shook the ground. the gods were listening. “beth still wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. she writes to me every month. i haven’t written back because it hurts, mom. i keep thinking of luke. she reminds me so much of him and it kills me that i can’t do anything to help her. where do i even start? i can’t fulfill the hole he left in her life. nobody can.”

your mother nodded, clearing her throat. “do consider returning to camp this summer. your siblings miss you and your sister is not doing well.”

“piper?”

“silena,” she replied. the doves returned to her. “it was lovely to see you, my child.”

in a blink, she was gone. you wondered if she’d show her face again, but the rain fell from the sky soon after she left, and you realized you probably wouldn’t.

ii. but you are unfixable, i can't break through your world.

“i’ll catch up with you guys in a second,” you motioned for your roommates to keep walking home without you. the two girls nodded, sending you a small wave of goodbye, before they turned the street corner. you began walking towards the entrance of the science building, towards the silhouette of a boy you could recognize in every life.

luke’s jaw was clenched as you approached him. he was caught. luke knew that he shouldn't be here. he knew it was too dangerous, but he couldn't help himself; he had to see you.

berkeley suited you. in college, you were a normal girl, stressed about finals and getting a summer internship. though luke had never seen you outside of camp before, he always imagined that you’d look even more beautiful when you didn’t have the stress of this life on your shoulders. it was weird seeing you out in the world like this. if he hadn’t known you, if he wasn’t already under your spell, he would undoubtedly fall to worship aphrodite’s favorite daughter.

your friends didn’t know who your mother was, but if they saw through the mist, if they knew the truth, it wouldn’t come as a surprise to them. you had an aura about you that was undeniable and for a minute, luke was jealous that these people around you could freely succumb to your pull, to allow themselves into your orbit, while all he could do was watch from afar. they didn’t realize how lucky they were to be around you, they would never fully understand.

you looked happy in the bay area, free, like you weren’t a demigod, like you weren’t preparing for a war. a war that he knew he caused.

he looked down at his feet before rising from the steps. he hadn't planned to speak to you. he’d been following you for weeks, from a distance, of course, he wasn’t going to test his luck any more than he already was, but then you approached him and luke knew there was no hiding anymore.

truth be told, there was never any hiding from you in the first place. you knew him better than he knew himself. sometimes, it scared him, just how vulnerable he was with you. when he first realized how he felt about you, he wanted to squash the feeling between his fingers and make it disappear into thin air. he knew there was nothing good that could come out of it, but he couldn't help but hope.

how could he not? how could he not hope that maybe, in some twisted way, he would be able to be with you? that one day, he could stop running, stop fighting, and just love you the way he wanted to. hope was a cruel thing, luke realized after the night on the pier. it makes him believe that there is good out there, somewhere in the future, daring him to hold on just a bit longer, only to leave him high and dry, an empty shell of who he once was.

“what are you doing here?”

luke let the question linger between the both of you for a second. partly because he didn't know what he was doing here. i needed to see you didn't feel like enough. it barely scratched the surface of what he was feeling. luke was never a wizard with words, but he used to be able to at least say something. now, though, as you stood in front of him, his mind went blank.

“what are you doing here?” you repeated. you had your arms wrapped around yourself to soothe your skin from the wind chills. luke didn't know it got this cold in california. “i’ve seen you a few times, and i thought you’d give it up, but it’s been weeks, luke. so tell me, what are you doing here?”

luke’s mouth was dry. he thought he was being careful, but he should’ve known better. you could always sense when he was around, just like how he knew whenever you were around. there’s something that shifts in the air, as if it gets lighter and it’s easier to breathe. luke wondered if it was still the same for you.

“he's using me,” luke whispered, “like a stepping stone to gain power.”

for a second, your face softened into a look that he knew too well. it was the same way you used to look at him when he talked about his nightmares or when he talked about his mom. a flicker of hope passed through luke’s mind, but he knew better now. he extinguished it before it got too comfortable.

there was a hint of disbelief in your voice when you spoke again, “what did you think was going to happen?”

“i thought i was doing the right thing,” he felt small. “i thought he wanted to make things better for us. the gods, they’re terrible parents. you know this. what they did to thalia, to all of us, i-i just thought that he would make things better.”

you shook your head, “luke, you betrayed all of us. percy, annabeth– did you know that she cries at night over losing you? over losing her brother? she’s lost everyone luke! and you were supposed to stay. you were supposed to be there for her! i saw her last summer when i came back to camp. beth is so much like you.”

“i know,” luke was crying. he was exhausted, both physically and mentally. kronos was taking over every part of him. he was there in every crevice of him, just waiting for the moment to drain him of everything he used to be. “gods, i know, angel. i just thought i was doing the right thing.”

“and me luke,” you rubbed your temples with the pads of your fingers. you hadn’t told anyone this before. you were too busy trying to make sure that everyone else around you was okay. as the oldest one now that luke was gone, you had to step up. your mother was right. your siblings were not doing well, nobody in the camp was. “i feel so stupid for ever trusting you. i keep thinking of every small interaction, every word you said, and i just keep wondering if any of it was real.”

“you don’t mean that,” he shook his head, stepping down to get closer to you. under the light of the streetlamp, you saw him better. if you didn’t know him as well as you did, you probably wouldn’t have recognized him. “everything, all of it, i meant it. you know that right?”

his eyes were sunken in, dark bags outshining the once vibrant sparkle of his eyes. now, the rims of his eyes were red. his hair was matted against his scalp like he let his curls tangle into knots and didn’t bother to fix them. there were newer, smaller cuts that joined the scar on his face. they weren’t as deep, but they were fresh, a sign that whatever he faced was recent.

“i love you, please tell me you at least believe that,” luke rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palm, “your mom doesn’t answer me anymore. i don’t know what else to do.”

when you didn’t say anything, luke felt the ground crumbling from under him. luke could live with a lot of things; being a failure in the eyes of his father, being a traitor, but you thinking that he didn’t love you was something he didn’t think he could live with. it was real to him, all of it. he didn’t know if this was the right time to tell you that those moments with you were the only things keeping him grounded.

the image of you throwing your head back in laughter as he tickled your sides, the freckles on your cheeks that showed up during the summer that he would spend hours counting while you slept on his chest, the sound of your voice, talking in hushed whispers, in the dark of the hermes cabin; it was you who he held onto as he fell deeper and deeper under kronos’ control.

luke walked closer to you, holding out a hand to touch you, when you flinched and backed away from him. your fingers unconsciously reached for the dagger you had on your belt loop. he shuddered, taking in a breath. he looked down at his hands, lips trembling as he wiped them on the fabric of his jeans. there was nothing on them, but he wanted to scrub them clean because it felt as if all the blood he spilled was stuck under his flesh, staining them red.

you thought he would hurt you.

“i…” luke trailed off, stuffing his hands in his pockets. he cleared his throat, “i didn’t come here to fight. i could never hurt you.”

“i don’t know anymore, luke,” you bit your lip, heart breaking as you spoke to him. “i never thought that we’d end up like this.”

“come with me,” he begged. “run away with me.”

“is this what you came here for?” you asked, “to try to recruit me like you did with percy?”

“no,” he shook his head vigorously. he was on the verge of getting on his knees to beg you to believe him. “i want out. i messed up, angel.”

“you did,” you whispered. he looked genuine like he meant it, like he did want to run away from it. a piece of you wanted to say yes, yes, i’ll run away with you. tell me where to go and i’ll follow you, but it was the part of you that still clung to him. the foolish part of you who still wanted to believe that the boy you met when you were younger, stubborn, selfless, sweet, luke castellan was still there.

you listened to that part of you on the final night in the hermes cabin, when you told him you loved him and he said nothing back. you tried so hard to lock that part of you away since that night, but it was hard to deny it when he was there in front of you.

“tell me what i can do to fix it,” luke felt like he was going crazy. “anything, angel. i’ll do it. just say the word.”

you closed your eyes, “there’s nothing you can do anymore, luke.”

“that can’t be true,” he hiccuped.

“you need to go.”

over the last few years, luke experienced brutal types of torture. he often spent days without sleeping, too afraid that kronos would visit him while he dreamt. he fought monsters he didn’t realize existed. he walked away from fights barely hanging onto a thread of life, but this– you telling him that there was nothing else left for him, like he no longer had a place in your life, this was a different type of torture that might just send him plummeting to his end.

“please don’t come back here,” you added, motioning to the buildings behind you. “this was the one place in my life you haven’t tainted.”

his apology was left stuck in his throat as you walked away, not once looking back at him.

iii. but i can't help him, can't make him better and i can't do nothing about his strange weather.

“y/n,” percy said, approaching you from behind.

it was the summer. you were sitting on the pier, a joint loosely hanging off your lips. you put out the lit end on the wooden pier, stuffing the joint in your pocket. you knew percy knew you smoked, but you still tried to hide it from him as much as possible. he was too young.

“hey, perce,” you smiled, kindly, scooting over to give him space to sit next to you. “sorry. you caught me. i’m not really being a good role model right now.”

“it’s okay,” he assured you, sitting beside you. he looked out into the lake, extending his fingers to cause a ripple effect in the water. “i don’t judge.”

you nudged his shoulder. percy looked his age in the light of the sunset. you wondered if you ever looked that young. “don’t tell mr. d.”

“he has plenty of other things to worry about,” percy scoffed, “how are you?”

you knew why he was asking. beth had told you today that they saw luke in the labyrinth. he was now kronos’ host. when she first told you, you were stone cold, no emotion on your face. you knew something like this was possible. it was only a matter of time until you lost luke all over again, completely this time, but it still hurt even though you knew it was coming. you simply nodded and walked off, finding solace at the pier as you always did.

“i’m okay,” you replied, though your voice said differently. you played with the sleeves of your sweater, luke’s sweater actually. he left it in the hermes cabin along with the rest of his things. nobody dared to touch it so his bed remained the same as it was years ago, collecting dust. “he came to see me in berkeley… before, y’know.”

“did he?”

“yeah,” you sighed, leaning back on your elbows. “he said he wanted out. asked me to run away with him.”

percy looked at you, “what did you say?”

“i told him it was too late,” you met his gaze. “i don’t know if it actually was.”

he didn’t know what to say to that. he’d only witnessed your relationship with luke for a few hours when he returned to camp for the first time. it was only a few years ago, but percy felt like it had been lifetimes. he’d heard about you and luke from annabeth and grover. when there were lulls in their conversations, one of them would bring you up and joke about how you and luke should just confess your feelings for one another. percy didn’t understand it until he saw the way luke was with you.

luke, who’d taken him under his wing, was love struck. percy didn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, but there were traces of you weaved into luke’s life. a picture of the two of you in his wallet, a small cal berkeley flag taped messily on his wall, a box of his things under his bed that were reserved for you, doodles of hearts in black and pink ink on luke’s counselor clipboard when he did cabin checks, you were in every piece of him.

luke was glued to your side the entire time you were there and nobody batted an eye. it was normal. luke and y/n, two names that seemed to go together, like they were meant to be uttered right after each other. it felt right.

“i met your mom,” he said, “she was weird.”

“sorry,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “what did she say?”

“she was obsessed with me and annabeth,” there was a blush creeping up on percy’s cheeks. he looked down at his lap to shy away, but you caught it. it was such a teenage boy response of percy to call your mom, the goddess of love, weird because she caught onto the two kids’ feelings for each other.

“yeah, she does that,” you decided to spare him the details of why. you were sure the boy would explode in embarrassment if you told him that you also knew about his feelings for beth. you sensed it when you returned to camp last summer. there were inklings of it when you first met them, but now their bond was stronger and it was harder to ignore. “she used to obsess over me and luke.”

percy blinked, “she said your love was her favorite to watch.”

now it was your turn to go red, “did she?”

“yeah,” he nodded, “annabeth thinks that you’re aphrodite’s favorite because you and luke had a great love and she was drawn to it, which is a little mean if you ask me.”

“agreed,” you replied, “i… i miss him, percy.”

“i know.”

“i love him,” you cried, smudging the mascara on your eyes.

“i know.”

“he wasn’t always like this,” percy watched your eyes unfocus, like you were playing back the memories you had with luke in your head. “when we were younger, before luke was the golden boy, he used to help me sneak out of camp when i’d get home sick. he’d take me to this abandoned cabin a few miles away. an old couple used to live there and they set up a little free library. luke knew i loved to read so he would take me there so i could pick out new books for the summer.”

“i didn’t know it then, but before i got to camp, he would steal books from stores during trips into the city and put them in there so i would have new selections to choose from when i got back,” you had a fond smile on your face as you continued, “the cabin was sold to new owners and they took the library down a while back. i think they thought nobody really used it anymore.”

“he was always good at sneaking around,” you hummed, “he’d walk out of a place with something that wasn’t his inside his pocket; a lollipop for a new camper who was missing home a little extra one summer, a can of soda for beth from mr. d’s stash when it got too hot under the sun, a flower from the demeter kids’ secret garden for me. he never got caught, but everyone knew it was him. i don’t think anyone cared, though, because it was luke. he always had good intentions at the end of the day.”

“do you think he’s still there?” percy asked, voice hushed into a whisper. “do you think he could ever come back to being that way?”

“probably not,” you turned to face him. you were mourning him, percy realized then. luke wasn’t dead, not physically anyway, but the way you spoke about him felt like he was already gone. “luke, he internalizes everything he does. he beats himself up over the things he does wrong. if he were to survive this, i don’t think he’d ever forgive himself for it.”

“this life, this prophecy, it feels like too much sometimes,” he mumbled. the sun was gone now, the two of you sat in the dark, listening to the calm sounds of the water. “i still feel like i don’t know what i’m doing most days.”

“yeah,” you played with the pink lighter in your hand. the heart you drew on the plastic was long gone and there was no more fluid in it, but you kept it anyway. “my prophecy said that i would lose a love to worse than death and i ignored then because it didn’t make any sense to me, but now it does.”

“i’m sorry.” percy didn’t know if it was the right thing to say.

you smiled at him differently, like you were tired, a look of resignation across your face. you stood up, motioning for him to follow you back to camp to join the others. as you walked together in silence, you noticed a single dove fly across the horizon.

iv. high, neglectful lover. you’re crumbling, sadly. you’re sadly, crumbling.

you’d fought through your wounds, even as your bones ached and your blood stained the clothes over your body. luke appeared then. you didn’t know if the gods took on mercy on you at that moment, or if was the lack of energy to distinguish real life from your dreams, or a mist that covered the truth from you then, but the world seemed to stop and everyone seemed to fade away.

all you saw was luke, in his camp half-blood shirt, five beads around his neck, the same boyish smile on his face. his eyes were sparkling as he approached you. his lips felt soft to the touch and his voice was kind.

“my angel,” he said, wrapping his arms around you the same way he always did when you returned to him each summer.

if you were to choose the way death came for you, you would choose it just like this, you decided– in the arms of the one love you’d ever known.

#frances writes #frances song fics #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo series

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starry-bi-sky · 2 months

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DPXDC Idea: Mother of Monsters Dan(yal)

Specifically Fem!Dan because I made this in mind with my Fem Danyal Au bUT. The best part about Dan is that I get to play dress up with her, and Fem Dark Dany is gonna go by Layal (pronounced lae-el) because it means "the nights" and it sounds similar to Danyal, and I think she'd choose that name to mock Dany. ANYWAYS

Mother of Monsters Danyal. She may be evil but she's an Al Ghul at her core (even with vlad's soul merged with hers - however, considering that Layal looks and sounds like Dany, she considers that soul to be the more dominant one.) and loves animals. And she might be heartless, but she adores the monsters of the infinite realms.

Mother of Monsters Layal who hates everyone but utterly dotes and adores on every manner of beast she comes across. Stealing the eggs and infant young beasts of the Infinite Realms to raise as her own because she wanted them. Her own island full of monsters, a monstrous menagerie of her own. She steals most often from poachers or exotic pet keepers and other menageries -- the full grown beasties can keep their young.

And with every monster she raises, she can shapeshift their features onto herself, allowing her to change her shape from humanish to any matter of monster or hybrid creature. She calls herself their mother, and them her children. Her precious little babies, capable of incredible mass destruction and mayhem.

From little griffins the size of kittens, to stymphalian vulture chicks, and leviathan young hatching from eggs the size of her pinkie, to creatures native of the ghost zone that didn't even have names in the living realm. There really wasn't a limit to what or who she would take in and she didn't limit herself to any form of mythology. If they were beasts and they were unwanted, she wanted them. And as such, amassed her own mini army of "children" willing to listen to her any command.

Earth doesn't know what hit it when she attacks them.

There are many monstrous forms she could take on, the first one I've thought of is a combination of various serpentine/reptilian features. The body of a naga -- her lower half long and serpentine, her upper still human -- with spiked fins connecting from the bottom of her arms to her sides, ever seen Sinbad where Eris goes "you might have seen my likeness on the temple walls" and her arms do that fin thingy? Same concept. Her hands are webbed and taloned, perfect for slicing through the skin of the living, and her teeth are needle-sharp and shark like. Her hair can either be spiny and feathery-like like the spines of a lionfish, or frilled like a frilled-neck lizard. It's perfect for dealing and doting on her reptilian and amphibian-inclined darlings.

I'm more of a fan of aus where Dan is a sibling of Danny's rather than their kid, so Layal's redemption(..?? probation?) proceeds with her legally becoming Danyal's "twin" sister, who had been lost to the foster system before the Fentons adopted Dany, and was only recently reunited with her. The two of them look so alike that the lie is easy to take root and spread.

Layal is very indignant to the fact that she's now ten years in the past and has to restart her menagerie all over again. Do you know how much blood and sweat went into raising those children? How dare you separate them from their mummy. Although she'll admit she does miss their juvenile years, so she won't mind (too much) needing to raising them again. Dany is helping her retrieve all of them though, dammit.

long story short: epic the musical's "Scylla" has a CHOKEHOLD on me and this is the result of it

Unlike her Dan counterpart, Layal's voice is dancing and sirenic. It's purposely alluring and motherly, in order to lure people into a false sense of security until she feeds them to her "children." Echidna doesn't have shit on her. She almost seems friendly and reasonable, until you get too close and realize it was all an act and she drops it to metaphorically swallow you whole. She's like an anglerfish that way. She and Dany both sound like Scylla from Epic.

#mother of monsters danny #dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dpdc #dpxdc au #dpxdc prompt #fem danny fenton #fem danyal al ghul #danyal al ghul #dany helps laya find one(1) beastie and instantly falls in love. laya does not need to convince her to come help her rob other ghosts blind #of their exotic “pets” or animals or whatever the reason they have beasts that they shouldn't for. she'll volunteer willingly its a trait #that they share. laya knows that raising her babies will be difficult now that she has to g back to *school* but dammit se's not leaving #them in the hands of the people she found them in. those are HER children fuck you.#Layal is the one to reveal to Damian that his older sister is alive and it was on purpose. It was to send him on a wild goose chase looking #for Dany in order to be around to save her from becoming Layal.#'Tragic. Terribly tragic; your dear sister had her soul ripped from her body and merged with another. What was left of her...'#'well. i put out of its misery.' she's very cloying towards damian and this is on purpose because she thinks its funny to get under his ski #goes out of her way to only ever refer to him as 'little brother' but if she can't she'll call him sickeningly sweet nicknames.#this happens about oooo midway 'redemption'? Where Laya is actually rather fond of Dany and is starting to consider her as a sister #as well. and she likes Ali. Laya herself is still rather unsympathetic to the world around her. only acts on a kindness for 'her people'#her people includes Dany which is why she even actually told Damian that Dany was alive and gave him an incentive to look for her #because she saw DAny mourning another lost birthday for her little brother and decided to go 'aw fuck who gave me feelings' and decided to #make it everyones problem.#starry rambles

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littlemissmentallyunstable · 8 days

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there’s been lots of requests and comments so here it is PART 3!!! (SHE’S HERE first anon, hope you survived this long second anon and it was not a dream third anon, I’m posting/making it now fourth and fifth anon)

some of you were going feral for part 2 so I hope this lives up the expectation 😭😭 if not I’m severely sorry

title: the dancer and the angel part 3

pairing: grayson hawthorne x reader

synopsis: grayson has just admitted to kissing lyra kane, the girl you’d been worried about, the girl that was stunning, the girl he said didn’t matter… he chose her over you so now what??

parts: part 1 part 2

warnings: swearing, SPOILERS FOR TGG

a/n: okay so I hate switching POVs but I felt it was necessary here and I know the start is the same as the part 2 but in Gray’s POV but trust me there is lot more

tag list: @tornqdowarnings @whatsamongus @wish-i-were-heather @inmyheaddd @never-enough-novels @sweetlikeanangel @midiosaamor @sweetreveriee @emelia07 @f4iry-bell @zaraaaabear @thoughtdaughter3 @benny1989fredd @elysianwayy77 @maybxlle @sheisntyou @anintellectualintellectual @aleatorio1234 @adalia-jaycee @off-to-the-r4ces @lyra-kane @reminiscentreader @lyrakanefanatic @imaseabear @elizaa31

GRAYSON’S POV

Guilt has chewed me up and spat me out the whole walk back to our shared room. There’s a pulsating lump in my throat that aches relentlessly, reminding me of what I’ve done. I am a terrible person. I never deserved her and now I’ve done the worst thing I could’ve possibly done, that anyone on this whole planet could’ve ever done. And she will never forgive me for it. I wish there was a way to turn back time and alter certain events. As soon as the time machine is invented, no doubt by my very own brother Xander, I’m coming back to moments before now to stop my idiot brain from-

I can’t even think it. Maybe it’s because it makes it more real. It’s like the last few moments of my life have been erased from my brain, it’s a blank canvas and I have no paints. I know what I did but I can’t remember exact details. Still, I can taste her on my lips, an over sweet taste that was almost too sickly has now morphed into something bitter. Her perfume lingers on my clothes and adds to my ever growing headache. I don’t want to smell her, I don’t want the reminder of the awful human I have become. The monster that now inhabits my body, lives in my skin, breathes my air and poisons the people I love. The ones I truly love.

Y/n. At one point she was the only reason I was still existing, still carrying on. She somehow managed to give me the fight to keep carrying on. I got up most days because I knew I would get to see her face. And now I’m going to throw everything away, our whole relationship. Everything we’ve been through or planned to go through together. It will reduced to nothing in a few minutes.

I’m outside the door, my feet have carried me here through muscle memory. I must go in, I must face her I’m aware but I’m afraid. I’ve never felt so pathetic. I wonder if she is still asleep. Though, I can’t work out whether I’d rather she be awake or asleep. I don’t think I could bear to look at her angelic feature either way. Those wide eyes, round lips, heavenly- I can’t bear it, I’m going to lose her, all of her.

I fiddle around with the key, hoping the door will just never unlock so I don’t have to face this. The mechanism clicks, mocking me. I step in silently and face the door to lock back up again. I don’t understand why, I know I’ll be kicked out in a matter of seconds, what good will a locked door be? And yet I’m still facing the door, fumbling with the key, my back towards her. Though I can hear her getting out of bed. She’s awake. My body’s immediate response is to go into a state of paralysis. I can’t move as the guilt ridden cement hardens over my body, creating an outer shell of the cruel creature I’ve become. Her body is behind mine. I can feel her bright presence radiating her usual tentative nature.

“Are you okay?” I hear her whisper as she touches my arm so gently it stings.

It stings so sharply because I know what I’ve done. The shameful crime I’ve committed. I jerk away suddenly.

“Are you hurt?” she asks, deep concern in her tone.

It kills me. It’s a poisoned dagger wedged deep within my heart, hitting every vital artery. Her voice is so soft, so melodic. She cares so much, too much and I’m about to destroy it all. And as much as I could not say a word I couldn’t live a lie, the guilt would eat me alive. How could I look her in the eye and tell her she’d always been the only one when I know she hadn’t? She’d already noticed earlier today my distant mood. She had always been observant, vigilant about those things concerning me and I’d always been grateful. I wouldn’t have that anymore. Lyra had been on my mind earlier and I couldn’t tell her. Now she would realise.

“No,” I reply.

My voice is unfamiliar to myself, it’s sharp and blunt. It sounds horribly harsh. I could feel it hurt her, the air ripples with a touch of dimness when I hurt her. Even with my back to her it’s obvious to me. I know her so well, too well and from this day on we might drift to perfect strangers. That thought hurts me more than anything.

“Where have you been?” she says. Her voice so sweet, so innocent, cruelly naïve.

I don’t want to break her, I don’t want to do it. It would be like smashing a glass ballerina. Something so beautiful, something so delicate should be preserved not purposely broken. I force my eyes to meet hers. I immediately regret it. The soft mellow colour all melts into one, clawing at my heartstrings and ripping the organ to shreds. She’s so beautiful. How had I ever looked at any other? How had I let myself?

Suddenly I’m drowning in guilt. I don’t know how, it just comes over me suddenly. Like a tidal wave I had my back to. I’ve been swept under by an endless ocean of shame. My lungs swollen full of my own black sin. I don’t know how but I manage to choke out two shaky words.

“I’m sorry.”

My voice cracks. My voice never cracks. She knows that. I’m sturdy, I’m strong, I’m the rock that never breaks and here I am. Here I am crumbling into dust. She’s too smart to miss the signs, she’s too clever not to immediately know something so horribly wrong, her mind is too sharp not to have worked half of it out. She’d already been suspicious of Lyra. She’d already seen what might happen between us even before I did, before it did actually happen.

“Gray?” she asks, my name sounding too sweet on her tongue. The next time she says it will taste bitter, I’m sure of it. She barely whispers the word but I hear her, it rings in my mind. It forever will.

I’m full of pure regret and guilt, it wracks my soul, shaking me relentlessly back and forth until I’m dizzy with it. Remorse’s doors suddenly burst wide open, ready for my grand entrance. My hopes and dreams snicker and smirk smugly as I walk down the runway, my head hanging in embarrassment.

I need to tell her. My heart races in my chest and there’s a lump stuck in my throat, so large it’s started to block my airways. I don’t know how to get the words out, I don’t know how to talk. I feel like I’m suffering some sort of aneurysm. She looks at me, her eyebrows pinched in and eyes narrowed and then I see it. Her eyebrows part and slowly sink. She knows already.

“Tell me,” she murmurs, her voice of an angel shaking.

I close my eyes, trying to suppress the tears. I haven’t cried in years I’ve forgotten this feeling, this heavy weighted agony that ripples through me causing water to infiltrate my eyes. I bite the inside of my cheek and still my shaking hands.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her, an uninvited raw desperation ripping through my voice, “I never wanted to hurt you, I never meant for it to happen, I-“

“Tell me,” she grits through her teeth sharply, her eyes glitter so beautifully fierce and fiery, like she wants to kill.

But I know she’s trying to steady her rising sadness by covering up with her fury. I can see through her, like she can see through me. I freeze and the pause elongates. The aching silence is deadly, it’s fatal. I wish she didn’t have to make me say it.

“I kissed her,” I murmur, the words making me feel sick as I say them.

“Who?” she asks, he tone low and ferocious, “who did you kiss? I want to hear you say it.”

I’m twisting a knife into her heart and I know it. But she wants me to cut deeper. She’s a woman of principle, I’ve already hurt her, I might as well do the job properly in her eyes. And I can’t deny her this. Not I’ve stripped her of her dignity, her trust, her love, her everything.

“I kissed Lyra,” I whisper, suddenly aware of the dampness on my cheeks.

A sour taste fills my mouth. The words send lightning sparks across my jaw, sending ribbons of agony down the sides of my face. The truth hurts. Literally. Tears are rolling the side of my face, but I don’t bring my hand to wipe them and nor do I stop them. I’ve never felt more broken.

But she doesn’t care, there is not pity in her eyes. Good. I don’t want he to pity me. She should hate me. She should want me to miserable and hope for me to have a lifetime of the torture I’ve just forced her to endure.

“Get out,” she murmurs, the anger bringing out her natural stunning features. A flicker of boldness in her eyes, the striking angles of her eyebrows, her strong thick lashes and her full lips.

“I’m sorry.” they’re the only words I remember how to say, through my internal fit of torment.

I expect her to hit me around the face, a good strong punch I know she can make or a sharp smack that’ll leave a red hand mark pressed against my cheek. I imagine she might scream at me and ask me all the questions I wish I had answers to. But she does none of that. She only looks at me darkly and utters two last words.

“Leave Grayson.”

I can hear the tears she’s trying to hold back, through the numb façade. I know her better than she’ll ever realise. But it’s not fair for me to stay, not after this. She’s only asking one thing of me when she should be doing so much more. So I do. I turn my back on her again. And I leave.

***

Tears pummel down my cheeks like never before. I can’t remember the last time I cried. I don’t think I’ve ever cried like this. I’m blinded by them as I stumble sideways. I don’t know where I’m going. I stand on the edge of the cliff and sink to my knees, letting out a loud guttural scream. I’m there until my throat is so raw I can’t feel it. I bite my lip so hard it draws blood. And then I’m up again and running, following a path my footsteps are dragging me towards. I can’t think straight, I’m dizzy with pain. Before I know it I’m outside the safe house on the island. My hands tremor on the handle and I swing open the door, falling to the floor for my sobs to take me over. My chest aches and burns and tightens. That’s when I realise I can’t breathe properly. I fumble around for my phone, a tear splashing into the illuminated screen. With uncontrollably shaking hands, I typed no words. Just three numbers.

911

***

The wait feels like years, maybe even decades. Each second taunts me, with a mocking tick. I’d crumbled into the corner of the room at some point and stayed there, curled up and choking on my own sorry sobs. What had I done? What had I done? What had I done?

The question circles around my head like the nostalgia of a distorted tune of a merry go round. I’ve never made such a big mistake and my life and deep down there’s a sinking sensation that is telling me I’m not going to be able to make this better. I sob, loud harsh sobs that hurt my lungs and knock the air out of my stomach. My whole being shakes with every strangled noise that escapes my lips. Grieving. I’m grieving over something I chose to throw away. It’s cruelly ironic. But I think part of me is also grieving the good man I once thought myself to be, that she made me believe I could be.

I turned my back on the one and only person in this world who just cared about me, took me for who I am and believed I could do anything. She only wanted the best, she only wanted happiness and she deserved so much more and here I am, stabbing her in the back and dancing in her blood like a madman. She was my everything and I managed to mess it up, just like everything else in my life. I can’t have normal relationships, I can’t do something without messing it up. I’m one big screw up the opposite of how the old man raised me to be. He’s looking down on me now and I can feel his disappointment, like an infection coursing through my bloodstream. I failed him, I failed my brothers, I’ve failed her, I’ve failed myself.

She thought I was better, she believed I could be more than his expectation. And I was stupid enough to believe it, encourage it and let her belive the lie too. We’re all idiots.

I can recite her favourite song, her favourite flower, her favourite food and favourite colour. I can tell you all about her favourite novels and how she orders her books on an endless bookshelf. I know that she tells people her favourite film is ‘it’s a wonderful life’ but it’s actually secretly ‘tangled’. I know she prefers to stay inside and cuddle under blankets rather than have a night out. I know she’d rather reason a thousand books than watch a thousand movies. I know she wanted a library in her dream house and two, maybe three children with her husband and I know she’d sometimes debate about getting a cat as well. I know how she loves brownie batter more than the actual brownies and can’t sleep with any lights on. I know she still uses the bunny rhyme to tie her shoelaces and how she fiddles with her collarbone when she’s nervous. I know exactly what diamond she wanted in her engagement ring and her favourite country. I know what people she despises and I know what people she adores. I know every inch of her face, every hair on her head, every sparkle in her eyes and every cell on her skin.

I know her.

I know her, but that can’t help me now. Pain ripples across the left side of my chest and my hand clamps over it as I grit my teeth to try and bear it. I hear the door creek open and can’t tell whether it comforts me or not.

“Grayson pookie!” Xander calls out, “we’re here.”

His cheerful voice doesn’t provide me with the cushion to this pain I thought it might.

“And we have some in incredibly strong whisky,” Jameson adds, I can here the mischievous grin in his voice, it’s been the same all of his life.

“My nose hairs are officially burnt off,” Xander agrees.

I can’t speak. I try to call out for them but the words die in my swollen throat.

“Where are you Gray?” Nash calls out, he sounds a little more worried than the other two but is concealing it well.

“Here,” my voice is hoarse and laboured, even I can’t recognise it.

The mood immediately shifts, you can feel it. The air becomes tainted with concern as their footsteps approach my cowering figure. The case of whiskey is dropped as there is an audible thunk as it hits the floor. I can feel their bodies enveloping around mine creating something of a circle of safety. I look up to worried face and shiny eyes.

“Help me,” I gasp for air, greedily trying to gulp down the oxygen that I feel so deprived of, “please.”

“We’re here to help you Gray,” Nash murmurs softly. His voice had always been something comforting, especially when I was younger. I wonder if he will be so kind when I tell him what I’ve done. He’s going to hate me, there’s nothing he despises more than a man who can’t respect a woman.

I shake my head and choke out another struggling sob, instead of the words I don’t know how to say. Jameson’s eyes flit between mine and Nash’s, the concern rippling across his features. He’s never looked this concerned for me in his life. I think to all the times as children I’d helped him settle after a nightmare and wiped his tears that he hated falling when the old man had humiliated him. Oh how the tables had turned. Now it was my little brother wiping my tears.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his touch so gentle it shocks me.

“I can’t-“ I barely get out, wrapping my hands around my neck.

“Gray…” he trails off, unmasked emotion hitting his face like a train.

“I can’t breathe,” I wheeze as the invisible blanket that was set out to suffocate me tightens over my nose and mouth.

“Hey, Gray, look at me,” Nash says, his voice smooth and reassuring, “in and out okay, in and out.”

“I can’t,” I pant, my limbs shaking embarrassingly uncontrollably.

Xander takes both of my hands into his and squeezes them until they still, “yes you can, follow Nash’s instructions okay?”

“Slowly, do it with me,” Nash nods, “in through your nose and out through your mouth.”

I do. In and out, a rhythmic pattern. Each time Nash reminds me how to breathe. There’s an aura of calmness about his voice that lulls my panic into a narcoleptic sleep. Once my breathing is halfway regulated I look at him, dead in the eye, with shaking sorrowful lips.

“I fucked up,” I sob, “I fucked up and I don’t know what to do.”

They all share a look, this is the worst state they’ve seen me and we all know it. I begin to pathetically sob uncontrollably once again, the feelings building up in my chest and tearing me apart from the inside out. It’s like a rabid pack of wolves had been set loose to feed on my internal organs. I don’t know how to stop the ocean of tears, I don’t know how to shut my mind off, I don’t know how to help myself. Reel myself in from this abominable mess I’ve become. I’m hyperventilating, my chest throbbing up and down unevenly. Nash nods towards Jameson, a short, soft, sharp nod of approval.

“Hey! Calm down!” Jameson snaps, giving me a hard slap around the face, “snap out of this!”

The shock shuts me up and the sting stops my tears. I’m back to reality instead of a wallowing mess. Nash must’ve been approving the slap I realise in the sudden cleared head I’d obtained

“Sorry,” Jameson mumbles at me, looking a little guilty.

I massage my jaw, “no I think I needed that.”

He grimaces and then softens his tone, “what happened Gray?”

I tense, growing very still, “I can’t say it out loud, I can’t, I’m awful, I’m horrible-“

“What happened?” Nash drawls.

I choke out yet another unnatural sound. Seems the slap didn’t snap me hard enough into reality. I exhale slowly. I have to say it, now or never.

“I kissed Lyra.”

The words hurt even more this time, that they did when I’d admitted it to y/n. Neither one of my brothers can mask their honest reaction.

“Oh fuck,” Jameson blurts out, “you cheated?”

Anger. He’s fuming with me. I can see the rage trailing through his eyes and blossoming into his expression.

“I didn’t mean to,” I reply, feeling like a small child.

Jameson’s eyes widen and fury flashes across his face, “how can you not mean-“

Nash shoots him a look and his mouth glues shut. Then he turns to me and I can’t quite read him yet. I gulp.

“No one does that kind of thing for no reason,” he says sternly, “I never thought you’d be the one of the four of us to ever do that, seems I was mistaken little brother.”

Disappointment. He’s disappointed. A horrible sinking feeling settles in my stomach. Nash is disappointed in me. It’s one of the worst feelings imaginable. There had only been few times in my life when he had been and I remember the feeling all too well. Shame has me in a chokehold an it’s succeeding in strangling me. I can‘t bring myself to meet his eyes, I don’t want to see that look I can feel is on his face, that look of pure disapproval.

“How did she find out?” Xander asks quietly.

Shock. He hadn’t said anything until now, but his lips had been slightly parted and he’d paled a little. He never thought I’d do this to anyone, he’s yet another person I’ve let down.

“I told her,” I murmur, “the guilt was consuming me.”

“As it should,” Jameson snaps, twitching with a fiery ferocity.

“Jamie,” Nash says, trying to keep some kind of diplomacy.

“No,” he growls, “you don’t do that to a girl, your girl, you can’t do that!”

“Don’t take the moral highground now,” I spit.

“When you’ve cheated on your girlfirend? Yeah I think I will,” he replies, the bitterness rolling off of his tongue like a deadly poison. He doesn’t know I’ve already poisoned myself with my own actions, his words can’t hurt me.

“I didn’t mean to,” I falter.

“Bullshit,” he grits through his teeth, in two definitive and threatening symbols.

“Careful Jamie,” Nash warns.

“All this is your fault anyway,” I continue, ignoring the warning.

“So it’s my fault, you kissed another girl, yeah, okay Gray,” he nods his head with a sarcastic smile.

“It is!” I exclaim, throwing my hands in the air, “if you hadn’t locked me in a room with her-“

“So it’s my fault you couldn’t keep up dick under control,” he quips, interrupting me.

“You could’ve locked me with my one of my sisters but of course you just had choose the only girl who isn’t related to me,” I seethe.

“Odette isnt related to you,” Xander pipes up. I’d forgotten he was there, that anyone besides me and Jameson were there.

“Odette is old enough to be my grandmother,” I scowl at him, immediately feeling bad as the words leave my lips, but don’t dwell on it as I turn back to Jameson, “why did you make me a player in your sick excuse of a game?”

“You can’t use the game as an excuse,” he laughs darkly.

“I will,” I reply sharply, “this is your fault and Avery’s fault too.”

“Avery? Don’t make me laugh,” he rolls his eyes.

“The game never should’ve been created by her,” I yell, “that’s why I’m in this mess!”

“No, you’re in this mess because of you,” he shouts back, “but don’t you dare bring Avery in to this it’s not her fault.”

I feel like I’m one of those circus acts, the ones that lay on a spinning board and get knives hurled at them. Only in my case the knives are the truth and they actually hit me.

“Why did you make me a player?” I ask quieter now, my voice hoarse, “why?”

“I didn’t know making you a player would result in this,” he says.

“It was so irreverent,” I snap becoming angrier by the second, a sudden burst of red overriding any rational sense in my head, “I never needed to play.”

“You can’t pin this on me Gray, if it didn’t happen with Lyra, who knows who else it would’ve happened with,” he hisses.

“So you think I’m just like this? You think this is me?” I ask him, prodding the hollow space where my heart used to be.

“I didn’t before….” he trails off, sighing, “but now I don’t know what the fucking think of you.”

“Jamie,” Nash repeats again, in the same warning tone as before. We both ignore him.

“Just because you and Avery are all peaches and roses-“

“Leave Avery out of your anger issues,” he roars defensively.

“No,” I counter, raising an eyebrow, mirroring his usual argument demeanour, “you think you’re so perfect now you’ve got your dream girl and the two of you are so much better off than the rest of us, because your love is undeniable or whatever bullshit people feed you about it-“

Jameson’s features twitch for a split second. He’s hurt, but won’t show it. He’ll refuse but I know that it hit a nerve that won’t heal for a long time. I stop mid-sentence.

“I am far from perfect, I think we both know that,” he says, in a low voice, “look you’re hurting, I get it, but I’m not going to mollycoddle you and tell you it’s okay when it’s not. I’m not going to stand here and lie to your face because as your brother that would be the worst possible thing for me to do to you.”

“My brother would try and understand what it’s like from my side,” I say, desperation clawing at my voice.

“You’re looking for a fight Grayson and it’s not going to end well, not with me,” he warns, shaking his head.

“Maybe I do want a fight, but you know you do too,” I growl rolling up my sleeves, “so fine, I’ll give you a fight Jamie.”

“I don’t want a fight, I want some justice for y/n,” he states simply, “she did nothing to deserve that Gray, she’s been so good to you, the sweetest soul on this earth and she’s helped you through a lot of shit and this is how you’re repaying her?”

“Jameson,” Nash says.

He ignores him for the third time and I can see his calm facade beginning to drop, “you think because you called a 911 and you’re here crying that I should feel sorry for you?”

“I thought you were going to be here for me,” I reply numbly, my tone dead, “clearly I’m mistaken.”

“I can’t be there for someone with no morals,” he replies, “you cheated and you’re the one who’s upset about it, how do you think she feels?”

“You think I don’t know her?” I fire back, my throat burning, “you think I don’t know exactly what she’s doing right now? I hate myself, I hate myself for doing what I did!”

“Good you should!” he screams back.

Before I know it I feel myself charges towards him, ready to throw a good punch but Nash and Xander launch onto me to quickly and managing to hold me back. Nash’s grip is so tight I don’t dare try and budge.

“Out. Now.” Nash says sharply to Jameson, “go and cool off.”

His tone sends a shiver down my spine that I won’t admit to. Jameson opens his mouth to argue.

“Jameson.”

He skulks away, with a sullen face. We all wait frozen until the door has been slammed shut. Nash lets my arm go, dropping it harshly and Xander follows suit.

“And you’re no better,” he turns to me, placing his cowboy hat on a nearby surface, “I’m only sending him away because you can’t be left alone in this mess and so the two of you don’t rip each other to pieces.”

Silence stills the room. His voice echoes but makes no sound all at the same time.

“Take a second, take a breath and we’re going to talk this through like adults,” he says, “if you want to carry on being a child then leave. Calm down, you’re not a toddler having a tantrum, you’re a grown man, act like it.”

Nash has a way of snapping me back to reality. I nod shakily.

“Talk.”

I begin, “I don’t even know why I kissed her, I didn’t mean to it just-“

“Happened?” he guesses, “no little brother, that doesn’t just happen.”

“The I don’t know Nash,” I say, tipping my head back and resting it on the wall behind me.

I hadn’t meant for it to happen. I didn’t want it to happen. It just did. She was there, just stood there. Her hands looped naturally around the back of my neck, warm and gentle, “someone sent me that ticket Grayson. I thought it was Avery but if it wasn’t…”

She trails off, her voice small and tentative. Her golden eyes filled with the utmost worry. I wanted her to know she’d be okay, that she’d have someone to keep her safe. Her arms get more comfortable around my neck. She’d felt it too, the electrifying spark between us. It was exhilarating but something about it was off, synthetic.

“Then who the hell was it?” I questioned, my hands magnetised to her cheek all of a sudden.

Lyra didn’t pull away and neither did I. I lower my head and she raised onto her toes and titled hers back a little. She was graceful, like a dancer. My lips brushed over hers. They were sweet like honey. For the first few moments it was bliss and the realisation hit, like a stone to my stomach. I jerked backwards suddenly, shaking my head.

“I can’t do this,” I said, my fingers trying to wipe her taste off of my lips, “I don’t- this isn’t-“

I was tongue-tied, not able to explain to her how wrong it was. The words wouldn’t work the way I wanted them to.

“Gray?” Lyra murmurs, a tender voice. Her amber eyes are widened and slightly confused.

“No,” I yell. She flinches and another wave of horribly strong emotion rushes over me, drowning me. “No I’m in love with someone else. I don’t know what that was. I can’t-“

I stumbled backward a few steps and the turned around and ran. Like the coward that I am.

“It did just happen,” I murmur, lifting my head from the wall to look my older brother in eye, “I swear to god, I didn’t intend for it to happen, I didn’t even know I had feelings for her.”

I can see he disagrees still and isn’t convinced. I don’t know how to prove it to him.

“Let’s establish one thing here, who do you like?” Xander asks me.

“I like Lyra,” I say slowly, “but I love y/n.”

Nash shakes his head, “if you loved her you wouldn’t have done that.”

“I made a mistake,” I press on.

“And you will pay for it and regret it for the rest of your life,” he shrugs, “it’s not what you wanted to hear but it’s the truth. Listen, I love Libby and loving someone means so many things. One of those things is that I don’t even look at other women, to me they don’t even really exist. Libby is my world and no one else even comes into the equation, so the fact is someone else came into the equation for you, meaning the love wasn’t there.”

“But it was, I felt it,” I say, my voice breaking as I press my chest.

“What do you feel for Lyra?” he asks plainly.

“I don’t know, she’s intriguing and smart and beautiful,” I murmur, “and I like her, but I don’t know if I have romantic feelings for her.”

“Then why did you kiss her?”

“Comfort? Lust? Greed? Selfishness? I don’t know it just happened,” I repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.

“Stop using that phrase as a get out clause,” Nash shakes his head, “you have to admit to yourself more than anyone that this didn’t just happen.”

“I leaned in and I put my lips of hers, and I didn’t stop it, it didn’t feel wrong straight away,” I admit out loud finally.

“It didn’t?” Xander says, looking wounded.

“No, it didn’t feel wrong until I realised what I’d done,” I say, looking down, suddenly finding my shoelaces to be the most interesting thing in the world.

No one replies for a long while. That’s when I realise how exhausted I truly am and how much I crave sleep.

“I vouched for you,” Xander says quietly, “I told her that you’d never do that, that you weren’t that guy.”

“I’m not,” I say, in denial at first. I take a moment to analyse his sentence and then come to a sickening realisation, “oh my god I am…”

“She was already anxious about where your loyalties were Gray,” he winces.

“I proved her right, I proved every worry she had right, I just proved to her that she shouldn’t have trusted me,” I spiral, hating that I hadn’t seen it sooner.

Xander looks to Nash for support for a reply.

“Yeah,” Nash sighs, “you did.”

“I need to fix this, there has to be a way-“

“Grayson,” the acuteness of his voice cuts through my sentence like a machete.

I freeze and clamp my mouth firmly shut.

“This isn’t a broken vase, you can’t glue it back together or buy a new one,” he tells me softly.

He was referring to a time where Jameson and I had been seven and eights years old. We’d been brawling of course, Hawthorne style and accidentally smashed a vase. Usually it wouldn’t matter, there were vases all over Hawthorne House and they were smashed frequently. But this wasn’t just any vase. It was nan’s priceless vase that had belonged to her daughter, our grandmother, Alice. We were never allowed within a five mile radius of it, but like the rebellious children we were, we didn’t listen. Through our fight we’d smashed the whole thing, it was truly destroyed. The two of us stayed up for nights on need gluing together the pieces only to realise it was never going to look like the original again. So we’d hunted to buy another, problem was, this vase was one of a kind. It turned out after four weeks or trying to ship a similar one in that nan had known the whole time. She didn’t speak to either of us for a good few months.

“This is real life, she is a real person and you hurt her,” he explains, “fixing this isn’t an option. There isn’t a way to fix it, there are no pieces to our back together, okay?”

I’m silent but it’s the loudest voice in the room. My face pinches together in agony. For the first time, a little of the disappointment fades and my brother’s face softens. He wraps a strong arm around me and I flop into him like a lifeless bag of nothingness. I bury my head into his shoulder and try to cry but there seems to be no tears left. He understands and holds me for a moment. Suddenly I’m six years old again and crying in Nash’s in my arms over Jameson hiding my favourite teddy bear at the time, then I’m eleven in his arms with pneumonia after being stupid enough to get caught in the rapids un the dead of winter wanting a good photograph of a rare fish, then I’m seventeen, crying over a redheaded girl who I thought I’d managed to murder. And now here I am, at twenty-two years old in his grasp once again, having made the greatest mistake of my life.

Suddenly I feel another set of arms wrap around the both of us.

“Group hug!” a familiar voice sings.

Leave it to Xander to make me crack a half smile in the darkest moments I’ve ever experienced. After a while I pull away and sigh.

“Do you think she’ll ever forgive me?” I ask, pulling away.

“Honestly?” Xander asks.

I nod

“No,” he says. I wish I could see that little glimmer of a lie in his eyes, but I can’t. And it kills me.

“Think about it like this,” he sighs, “would you forgive Eve for what she did?”

“This is not the same thing,” I reply coldly.

“Eve cheated your trust, she betrayed you,” he explains gently, “that’s exactly how she feels.”

Dread fills my every pore as I murmur lifelessly, “I’m as bad as Eve.”

“No wait,” he says, looking guilty and panicked all at the same time, “that’s not what I meant!”

“I know,” I reassure him so some of his guilt subsides, “but it’s true and now I’ve just realised.”

“Look Gray, you aren’t Eve. You’re never going to be Eve, but think of how you felt then. That’s how y/n feels,” Nash soothes, “she’s not going to just forgive you, that’s not how it works.”

“You just broke her heart Gray,” Xander adds, careful to keep his tone as light as a feather, “for a girl you just met.”

“Why am I horrible person? Why do I always find a way to mess to something good?” I groan, smacking my head on the wall behind me. There’s an audible thump as pain spreads through the back of my skull. I wonder if I can concuss myself to forget all of this, but I don’t attempt the idea.

“You don’t-“

“No I do,” I say firmly, cutting him off, “I’m not meant for love, to love or to be loved, I’m not built for it. I’m not a good enough person for it. I’m never going to find my Libby or my Max or my Avery.“

“Grayson-“ Nash begins.

“Emily knew it and now so does y/n,” I snap.

My brothers still at her name, not moving a muscle. I never bring up Emily.

“Listen to me,” Nash says sharply, getting my attention, “you are meant to be loved. You are meant to love. I love you, Xander loves you, Jameson loves you and y/n loved you too…”

The change of tense makes my soul ache.

“…but this time around, you made a mistake, a costly mistake. But that doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love.”

I nod numbly, robotically.

“What can I do to make it up to her?” I ask, my voice beginning to tremble, “to show her I’m sorry? Something there has to be something.”

Nash gives me a grim look and Xander’s face remains blank, they’re the only answers I need. My head sinks into my hands. The door reopens and I look back up. Jameson has returned.

He meets my eyes, “Avery’s with her.”

Blood surges through my heart and I can almost smile. He checked on her. For me.

“Is she okay?” I ask quickly.

Jameson looks at me and for a split second I almost see the ghost concern is his eyes. He shakes his head softly, “no, but she will be,” he replies, it’s an attempt to comfort me and I am grateful.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

“I’m not apologising for what I said, because I still stand by it and you won’t change my mind,” Jameson says, “but I am sorry for being so angry about it.”

“You were right,” I whisper, “you were right about me. I never deserved her, so was nothing but an angel to me and I just turned around and threw it all away. I abused the luxury I had, I stabbed her in the back and then gifted another with the knife, I’m a horrible person.”

“What you did was wrong, but that’s doesn’t make you a horrible person,” he sighs, “you need time Gray, this is going to take a lot of healing. On both sides.”

“I don’t deserve to heal, I deserve to be in pain,” I murmur, the dullness in my tone echos around the empty walls.

“Oh no, we’re not going back to emo Grayson,” Xander says quickly, shaking his head.

“I agree with Xander on this one,” Nash nods, readjusting his cowboy hat.

“I don’t want to hear you blasting my chemical romance at three a.m and then denying it later again, you came out of that phase we’re not going back there,” Jameson tells me.

I bark out a laugh that thaws my icy chest. I then bite the inside of my cheek.

“I can’t fix this, can I?” I say, looking at the ground,

Nash shakes his head softly.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t be fixed,” Xander says.

“You’ll get through this Gray,” Jamie agrees, “I know it.”

The room grows still.

“Can we drink that whiskey now?” I ask, to cut through the silence. I feel like getting drunk, I feel like I need some relief.

“Big brother,” Xander nods at Nash handing him the bottle.

“Little brother,” he tips his cowboy hat in reply before taking the bottle into his hands and cracking it open.

“Let me pour these things properly,” Nash grins, “Jamie, come help.”

“Wait me too!” Xander jumps up,

“Stay with Gray,” he shakes his head.

“I don’t need to be babysat,” I grumble, annoyance written all over my face.

“I want to watch them pour whiskey properly,” Xander explains, “so I can impress Max.”

My eyebrows fly to my forehead, “Max drinks?”

“No I want to impress her though,” he grins.

‘You’re an odd human,” I almost laugh, tilting my head to the side.

“Why ta very much!” he says, almost skipping away.

Once I know they’re all gone, I lean back on the wall, my heart feeling a tiny bit less heavy. The pain isn’t gone. I think I’ve just gone numb. I feel hollow, empty, nothingness. Guilt is still gnawing at my insides but slower. A satifying clink against the fragile rim of the glass takes me out of my own head for a split second. There are hushed voices from the kitchen, I notice. I walk over to the door that lay ajar, I lean in to listen.

“We need to tell him,” it sounds like Jameson.

“Not now,” the accent indicates Nash.

“Then when?” Xander’s voice asks, “how long can we prolong it.”

“I can hear you,” I tell them, raising my voice a little.

They turn to face me, awkwardly remaining silent. The expressions on their faces don’t offer me comfort.

“Whatever it is, spit it out,” I say, “it’s not like tonight could get any worse.”

They share a look. Apparently it can. I feel sick to my stomach.

I can barely breathe, “who died?”

“No one has died,” Xander says quickly, “yet.”

“What?” I say, my tone deadly,

Nash glares at him, then turns back to me. There’s sorrow laced delicately, deep within his hazel irises.

“Gray,” he says gently, “Gray we hate to do this but…”

“What? What is it?” I ask urgently.

“Gigi’s missing.”

The words shock me to my core. I feel my throat begin the close up as panic returns with a smirk and triumphant greeting. My whole world has collapsed in less than 24 hours.

***

YOUR POV

I don’t hate him. Call me naive or call me stupid. But I don’t. I don’t think I ever could. The kind of love I have for him is unconditional, irrevocable. Time can’t heal a wound this deep and although it is still fresh now, I can tell. But if he were to say sorry I think I would forgive him every time. And if he asked me back I’d fall into his arms into an instant. And I hate myself for it, it’s stupid and it’s a little cruel. How easily I would take him back after what he did. I know I shouldn’t but something inside of me is drawn to him. Like an invisible magnet has been planted in our hearts. I wish I didn’t love so hard, fall so deeply, maybe I wouldn’t get hurt so badly. But it’s in my nature, it’s who I am. I wonder if he knows how much pain I’m in, the rippling agony that rolls across my chest relentlessly with no hint as to when it will cease. I’m tired of being the second choice but unfortunately I wouldn’t mind being his. And I know it’s completely stupid of me to think that way, completely wrong but love makes you do stupid things so they say. I sit on the beach, by the sea in a state of numbness. Silent tears roll down my tears as the waves lap my feet. Deja vu washes over me and the memories of Grayson and I the night of the game flash through my mind.

I grip his hand and run with him as he guides me the just beyond the shore. He sits down swiftly on the sand and pulls me down to sit between his legs. I lean my back onto his chest and let him nuzzle his face into my collarbone.

“I love you,” he whispers, kissing my neck, “only you.”

Only me, huh? Only me…

The waves crash against the rocks, hurtling a salty spray towards me. I hear footsteps and turn around. Avery stands there, a mournful expression over her delicate face. She knows. I stumble towards her and collapse into her arms in a fit of uncontrollable sobs now and she holds me. Her touch is gentle and warm but it’s nothing compared to his. I realise he might never hold me in his arms again and I cry even harder.

***

I don’t hold Lyra accountable. She is not to blame. Some girls in my position might dream about different ways to brutally murder her but I can only ask what comfort would it bring me? My feelings are already dead, what good is more pain doing?

There was a choice that Grayson Hawthorne was given: his dancer or his angel. He chose his dancer and I hope he’s happy. Because angels have wings and we rise up stronger.

idk guys I think I wrote Grayson’s POV really awfully to be honest… also I feel like the 911 meet up was not like their normal ones where they try and like do something (e.g drink or dare) and then talk about the pain but that’s bc Grayson was in such a mess and then they had to drop the bomb that Gigi was missing. so anywayyyss…

I am sorry this took so long and I hope it lived up to any expectation you wanted it too (sorry if it didn’t) and I hope you enjoyed 🤍🤍 thanks for reading as always

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sexualtensiongrowing21 · 6 months

Text

“You owe me.” “I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to date you to get him off your back.”

Isaac Lahey X Reader

TW; Mentions of physical abuse.

Word Count: 819

Part two

You have looked in the locker room, the art room and outside in the quad and still can’t find him. You woke up this morning, put on the cutest outfit you own and spent extra time on your hair and came up with the best plan.. There is no chance he will say no… Right?

As you walk into the library you finally spot the messy mop of dirty blonde hair.

“Isaac! Isaac!” You whisper shout as you walk over to where he is sitting in the ground leaning against one of the bookshelves. You don’t know why this wasn’t the first place you looked. This has always been a safe space for Isaac to come to when he needed to get away.

“Y/N! Y/N!” he whispers, shouts back successfully, mocking me with a cocky grin on his lips.

Laughing, You walk over and drop my bag next to him and it’s a quiet thump. “I had the most perfect idea, and before you say ‘no’ just hear me out?” You ask with a pleading look on your face. Isaac eyes you suspiciously and slowly nods his head for you to continue.

Isaac and you have been friends since we were six. Your moms were best friends and would force you two to hangout with each other all the time. Even when he thought girls had cooties. He has always been my favorite person and you did everything you could to protect him. When he would get picked on in school you would tell off anyone who was mean to him. When he would get hurt on the playground you would be the first one to help him clean and bandage his wounds. When his mom died and he started coming to school with bruises and cuts that he refused to explain to you, you made sure that your window was always cracked and unlocked for him to climb through.

He said he always felt safe when he was with you. And since you couldn’t do anything about his dad hurting him, you did the best thing you could think of. You were always there for him. He was your best friend after all.

“So you know how Matt won’t leave me alone? How he asks me out every time he sees me?” You ask nervously while nibbling slightly on your lip.

Still looking at you with suspicion he shakes his head yes. “Well I was thinking that maybe. You would pretend to be my boyfriend. Just for a day to get him off my back.” You rushed out. Anxious to see his reaction.

He’s quiet for a moment, before looking at you like you’ve lost my mind. “Are you crazy? He will never believe that.” He laughs nervously.

Turning towards him you put my hands together and begged the dirty blonde next to you. “Please Isaac. Please, please. I know this will work and you’re my best friend, who better to pretend to date than you?”

He rolls his eyes “Why can't you ask Scott?”

“It’s more believable if it’s you. I mean we’ve been best friends forever, half the school thinks there is something going on between us anyways.” You say with a roll of your eyes.

It's true. Since Isaac and you have been friends for so long, everyone is always bothering you two about when you're going to start dating. It's not that you don't like Isaac that way. You do. You love him, and he has told you he loves you too. But you both agreed that you should stay friends. You are both too important for the other to lose.

Isaac looks at you seriously. “I don’t think this is a good idea, Y/N.”

“I really didn't want to do this… But you owe me Isaac Lahey.” His seriousness drops into a look of guilt.

He did owe you. After he was turned by Derek, and after he accidentally attacked you, you stayed at Dereks with him for weeks, until he found his anchor. Which by the way he still hasn't told you what it is.

He sighs in defeat. “I meant I owe you $20 not a day of pretending to date you to get him off your back.” Isaac has never been able to say no to your pouty face, and with everything you did for him in the past he grudgingly agrees.

“Fine, I will help you. Just know that I think this is a horrible idea.” He states with a half smile. Your smile on the other hand is wide and excited. You throw your arms around him in excitement. “Thank you! Thank you!” you cheer, kissing his cheek.

“Tomorrow, be ready!” You yell getting up and walking out of the library. As he watches you walk away all Isaac can think about is how screwed he is to fake date the love of his life.

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#isaac lahey #isaac lahey imagine #isaac lahey x reader #Isaac lahey oneshot #teenwolf imagine #teen wolf imagine #fav #writing #writers on tumblr #oneshot #teenwolf oneshot

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kagakuoniryu · 7 months

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Alastor x reader I've written randomly to vent about a shitty situation I'm currently living

Summary : a new guest you knew from your past life arrive at the hotel, she was that one person who bullied you throigh high school, but she mooks too angelic to be guilty

Code : E/n (ennemy/name)

Tags : fem reader, etablished relationship, angst for the most part, there will maybe be a part 2, mentions of bullying, reader is TRAUMATIZED, english is not my first language, may have some inaccuracy about the show since I'm just projecting, and of course probably ooc characters

It wasn't a bad day, at least not in a place like hell, it was even quite nice, charlie was babbling about a new team bonding activity as usual, and it was nice being with your friends, until around 2 pm...when a new guest arrived...

Oh you remembered her...from high school, so pretty, so popular, she was you best friends ! You should have been overjoyed to see her down here !

Well...not exactly, because she wasn't your best friend anymore, you hardly bear to be in the same room as her, of anger, from your history and how your friendship ended...but also of fear and dread...

You were both teens back then, you and eager to have many friends ! You had your own group of friends, and she was a separate individual, spending her time with her boyfriend often, that's okay by you, you were happy for her, and when that boy left her you welcomed her with open arms ! You became best friend soon, even inseparable ! You heard her badmouth you to your friend group from time to time, but she told you it was okay, it was "to know who was fake" then, one by one, your friends ghosted you, but you had her, she was there at least, making new friends, each time you introduced her they left soon enough, you thought that maybe you were the problem and stopped trying, your best friend was there after all

Until a boy came along, love at first sight for you, he had everything ! He had so much...your best friend wanted him too...and with that, she had him, when you called her out she called you an homewrecker and a toxic friend getting in the way of her relationship, that ended badly and an argument followed, while you stayed on the down low, she texted your few friends left, and any new friends you managed to make telling them how awful you were, so you ended up closing your media althogether, moving away, and never hearing about her ever again

And there she was, she didn't really looked different from her time on her, a round face and blond hair, she didn't looked like she fitted in hell, but you you were different, your body jointed like a doll, mocking your life as the puppet of those who wanted to play you, but if not your appearance, your personnality changed, you were more confident, your boyfriend was a powerful overlord too ! No, not boyfriend, he proposed a month ago after all, he was your fiancee now, and you had friends, through thick and thin, you knew they wouldn't buy into her lie at least !

Having an hard time to breath you sucked it up, maybe she wouldn't recognize you ?

Wrong

How wrong

"Hello ! Welcome to the hazbin hotel ! Guys this is our new guest !" Charlie started with her usually cheerfulness

"Hi everyone ! My name is E/n, I barely arrived in hell ! And I figured that if I could, I would want to be redeemed ! After all everyone deserves second chances !" The girl said back

Her voice hasn't changed, neither her tone, that fake nice tone you used to hear every day, here, one again in flesh and blood, not through a phone, not through class, but..here...

Breathing harder than ever, you only went back to reality when husk called out to you

"Hey ? You seem weird, like you've seen some ghost ?" His tone nonchalant as always showed half concerns, but for him, it was a lot

"A glass, of whiskey, or vodka, whatever you got, strongest you got please"

"Wowowo...alright, that's not your type to drink, what's up...?"

"I-I...I know this girl...she...listens, I can't be in her presence sober, I knew her from where I was alive...we had...some bad conflict...she did some awful things to me, and I got bad issues after that...I said some mean things to her too, we were kids, but since then I'm scared I'll lose all my friends again !"

Husk just nodded at my whispered rant, trying to calm myself, I didn't even insisted on a glass and went straight to my own room since alastor and I didn't shared one yet, not before marriage he said

Later that day, angel vaggie and charlie passed by my room, concerned by my absence, I told them everything, how I ended up abandonning the notion of making friends when I was alive, the calls, the insults, they looked at me with compassion, charlie said she believes that she could have changed, and even if I doubted it, I wanted to believes it

Alastor arrived to spend some quality time with me, dancing on old jazz music far from my time, reading a book, basking in silence with each others

After a while, I thought I could talk about E/n with him, he was my fiancee after all ?

"Al ?" I started, unsure

"Yes my dear ?"

"You know about that new guest at the hotel ?"

"Ah yes, what a cultivated lady, quite entertaining, she was really into songs from the 1980s not my style at all, we had a long discussion about music genres, she's actually quite against modern technology and that picture show"

"Oh...so...you like her company ?"

"She is not insufferable if that's your question"

Finally you decided against your first idea, perhaps she had changed in the end ? Perhaps a new friendship was possible ? With healthy fondation, you could get your bestfriend back !

Wrong again

You revealed her the next day who you were, well, used to be, what linked the two of you back in the living realms, for others, nothing changed, but for you it was subtle, for exemple she never interrupted anyone, but when it came to you each time your mouth opened she would cut you out

She was such a charmer too, a quality you envied her, her audience was captivated, and soon even alastor was her aquaintance, he presented her rosie of course ! Just like he did for charlie !

And just like he did for you...

Rosie found her delightful, and from your tea parties at 3 with her and alastor, became 4, adding E/n

A comment about your appearance back in high school, an embarassing moment you had, a silly crush, every single detail of your life was used to mock you, even your crush on a video game character

Soon you always found excuses to avoid going to the tea party, and spend most of our time outside of the hotel, feeling akward in her presence

You tried talking about it to charlie or maybe vaggie, to no avail, they said how nice E/n was and how much progress she was making, if they weren't saying you sounded silly thinking that in these 3 weeks she took your place, you still felt like it...

And it all confirmed when, after a whole day of searching for everyone, they finally came back to the hotel from shopping...without you

"Finally you're here toots ! We tried searching for ya before going but you weren't anywhere !" Angel started, holding many bags in each arms

"What do you mean ? I was in my room all day ?"

"Wait you weren't out ? E/n told us she saw you leave ?"

"Oh I'm sorry my eyes deceived me...next time I'll still check your room !" As everyone looked sorry I couldn't help but see it, even for a second...

She smirked...

Of course she did, she never changed

This started becoming common occurence, either the others left you behind, or you could leave the entire day without them noticing, and at some point, angel, husk and sir pentious started to distance themselves from you

"Hey angel, hum...you wanna hang out...? Go to a club, or drink with husk, just spend some time betweens pal ?"

"Sorry sweet cheeks, but we're partying with E/n tonight and...she doesn't feel comfortable around you..."

"Wha ? Angel what are you talking about ?"

"She told us about it, about the two of you, hos jealous and manipulative you were, you even tried to make her dump her boyfriend, that wasn't cool of you, I don't want to take side on this, but if I hang out with one of you, I'd rather not force her to be with the other for both your sanities"

"Oh...ok"

That's all you could have mustered, because what was there to muster, you were in hell, all the proof you used to have were on your previous phone in the living realm, but even if angel and the other favored her, mayne your fiancee could understand your side ?

Gently you knocked on alastor's hotel room as he called you to come in, he was currently eating his dinner, a...fresh venison...but you shook your head lightly, taking a sit across the table

"Al, can I vent to you for a bit...?"

"What is it my dear ? But please, spare me your story with E/n, as much as I love a good gossip, the young lady did you a favor by never taking vengance in the living realm, I wouldn't want the two of you to get in troubles once again"

"Al, please it's serious, she's telling lies about le ! And you believes her ? I'm your fiancee ! She's in hell as well !"

"And so are you, and so am I, I am not interested in knowing the why who is were, but I admit your little querrel is...quite entertaining !"

"So your fiancee see her ex bully...and all you think about is entertainment ?"

"Well, ma chère (my dear) as far as we are all concerned, without proof, both of you could be the liar, it's about, who's able to convince the public, just like on a stage"

Alastor's half sadistic smile didn't amused you, you just sighed, getting up, wamking slowly toward the exit of his room, if even your own fiancee, the man you loved refused to believes you, who would ?

You couldn't see alastor's curious expression as you left, he just wanted to prolounge the fun and not outright gives you the solution, but seeing you give up almost made him that for once he screwed up badly

#writing #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #angst #alastor angst #x reader #x reader angst #hazbin hotel x reader

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szuyiin · 6 months

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⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ ATZ : FINGERING !!

this is a work of fiction & contains: ╰ PAIRING: bf ! top ! atz (separately) x gn ! bottom ! reader ╰ GENRE: smut. established relationship. headcannon. ╰ WORD COUNT: ~ 220 words each member, 1.7k words total. ╰ SFW WARNINGS: use of petnames baby (khj, cs, smg, jwy) darling (cs, smg), let me know if i missed anything :] ╰ NSFW WARNINGS are located under cut to prevent exposure to unwanted content. you are responsible for what you consume.

SZUYIIN'S NOTEPAD — this is a repost from an old blog of mine, this piece is not stolen. proof-skimmed.

-18'S & AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS DNI, YOU WILL BE BLOCKED !!

ABOUT ★ GUIDELINES ★ MASTERLIST

⠀⠀⠀⠀ ★ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ NSFW WARNINGS !! ╰ dirty talk. fingering. let me know if i missed anything !!

★⠀⠀PARK SEONGHWA.

nice, sweet, and gentle. never wishing to inflict any pain while he tried to pleasure you. two lubed fingers slowly stretching you before him. the type to like your thighs pressed to your chest while he knelt between them, other hand next to your head to level himself as he simply watched you.

the grip you had on his wrist, trying desperately to make him get the hint you wanted more, didn't matter much to him - paying it no mind as he kept his own pace; another subtle reminder who was in a position of control.

keeping his gaze pointed, he watched as your upper lip twitched, every furrow of your brows and every time your lips parted - he wished to memorize every part of you.

“you look so cute,” seonghwa says, hovering above you while you absentmindedly - almost as if it was out of pure instinct - held the backs of your thighs to press against your chest. the gaze he offered was loving, and in a moment like this, you never expected anything less. “you love being full of my fingers, hm? i know you do.”

★⠀⠀KIM HONGJOONG.

loves hearing you. runs on your whines, whimpers, moans, cries, groans - anything and everything you had to offer him verbally, he greedily wanted from you; giving you everything he had to offer you in return.

the type to like to be face-to-face with where he’s prodding into you, knowing exactly how your face is contorted just by how you sound, he’d want to watch every muscle contract and twitch around where his fingers are shoved into you.

adores hearing you beg for anything more than he was giving you right now, purposefully slowing down his pace or not sliding his fingers as deep when you needed him. you being vocal about your wants and needs is definitely what gets him going the most.

the tips of your lovers fingers pressed against your walls, sliding with ease as mewls leave your swollen lips. “go on, you can be louder, can’t you?” you knew he was mocking you simply from his tone, egging you on and causing your skin to warm from the embarrassment of your neighbors possibly hearing you. “just ask for more, baby. need to hear you say it, is all.”

★⠀⠀JEONG YUNHO.

oh god. just wants you falling apart under him. any way he could break you, have you grabbing for his wrist when you’re close and crying out his name as you finish, he would do.

makes it a competition with himself. always keeping a mental timer going to see how fast he can make you cum just from his fingers stuffed inside you - no other stimulation.

his index and middle finger reaching new depths, teasing you about how you begged for a third, but he could feel how you wouldn’t be able to take it just yet.

wants you to know just how much he wants you, too. free hand holding the back of your knee while your calf rests on his shoulder, his crotch against the back of your thigh as he ruts his clothed cock against you just to be sure you know how badly he wants you, and that its not just you who’s desperate to be touched.

“fuck. . .” yunho curses, pressing his hard cock impossibly closer into the soft flesh of your thigh, the motion causing his thigh to press his two digits further into you. “look at you, just laying here. . . driving me insane just by looking at me-” you cut him off with a groan from yourself, a small smile appearing on his lips at the sound. “if you want my cock, you gotta take my fingers first.”

★⠀⠀KANG YEOSANG.

loves fingering you the most when you're on your knees, face against the surface you found yourselves on while he kneeled behind you, a singular, lubed finger prodding at you teasingly, and nasty words flowing from his lips.

keeps his composure incredibly well, almost so that you feel you don’t have much of an effect on him.

but holy shit, he’s fighting the urge to fuck you senseless - your pleads and groans muffled by your arms enough to have a large tent in his sweats.

but alas, he’ll keep up the act that he was unbothered; at least until you beg for him, that is.

“you’re so noisy,” your boyfriend comments, watching intently as your thighs shake from the unsteady stance you have against your shared bed. “maybe i should shove a few fingers in your mouth, too.” you can feel as weight shifts on the bed, his finger continuing to move as he readjusts to press a kiss to your lower back. “you’d absolutely love being stuffed full of me, huh?”

★⠀⠀CHOI SAN.

oh, bless your heart. san will be ruthless with his actions but thoughtful with his words, perfectly articulated to have a certain effect on your mind and body.

two fingers sliding inside you at the most delicious angle and pace, curling against your walls and having your back arching as you laid spread before him.

he thought you looked so hot like this: writhing beneath him as he spoke oh-so softly, praising you while practically splitting you in half, or rather, preparing you to be.

this was only preparation, there was absolutely no way he wouldn’t cave in when you look at him all spaced out.

“so, so cute, darling,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your calf as it rests atop his shoulder. the look he gave you was close to ethereal, a smile on his lips and the corners of his eyes crinkling in joy as he watched where he pushed into you repeatedly. he meets your eyes briefly, slowing his pace and bringing his other hand to hold your cheek in his palm. “you’re so adorable when you’re all spaced out like that,” he pinches your cheek and returns the brutal pace of his fingers. “my pretty baby.”

★⠀⠀SONG MINGI.

not super mouthy, really enjoys feeling you. has you on your back while he kneels between your spread legs, lips almost never leaving your neck or chest as he presses his long fingers into you slowly.

loves it if you’re vocal about your needs, guiding him a bit whether to be rougher or more attentive to the special spot on your neck. if you want him to look you in the eye or kiss your lips instead. he loves if you tell him what you like - wants nothing more than for you to feel the best you can. bonus points when its because of him.

vacant hand will be attached to your hip or leg, kneading the flesh under his fingers and breathing hot air onto your body, feeling you squirm and clench around his digits.

uses the hand on your hip or leg to pull you back the tiniest bit to meet his fingers’ thrusts, wanting to hit as deep as he can to hear you tell him how well he treats you.

“min...” you trail off - unaware if you even had a full thought to begin with - the cool air mingi’s plush lips blew onto your neck where he kissed causing your back to arch involuntarily. “yes, baby? he asks, to which he receives no answer yet doesn’t pine for one either, knowing your desperate call was nothing more than a verbal affirmation of how he was making you feel. he presses a kiss to your neck once more, fingers soothing as they press against your walls. “i’m right here, darling. i’ll make you feel good.”

★⠀⠀JUNG WOOYOUNG.

the mouthiest. doesn’t spend even a second to mentally debate if he should comment on your shaking legs, heavy breathing, or how you cry for him. will always make sure you're aware that he is aware of your actions.

prefers you to be on your stomach or back, laying across his lap so he can feel every jolt and twitch from your body on himself. definitely would point out how his cock hardens to you, telling you how much of an effect you have on him - he loves the response he gets.

the type to - no matter how you're situated - put his palm against your chest. adores being able to feel your heart beat pick up as he continues pumping his fingers into you.

other than that instance, he’d keep his palm flat just above the bump of your ass. not rough, but enough pressure so you couldn’t squirm away - as if you’d ever dream to in the first place.

“aw, i can feel your heart racing, baby. am i making you feel that good?” your lover comments, warm hand sliding under your arm and along your side as the other pushes deeper and deeper inside you, the noises from the added lubricant making the scene all-the-more dirty. the pressure in your abdomen builds, the mixture of his words and actions proving to be too much at once. “look at that, you got me so hard - can’t wait to fuck you like you deserve to be.”

★⠀⠀CHOI JONGHO.

the most notable thing about jongho wouldn’t be how intensely he holds you, but more so how he holds you. similar too wooyoung, keeps you pressed to him just firm enough so you can’t squirm, but offers you just enough space to pull away if you wished to do so.

would like you face down, hips in the air as he sat behind you, one hand kneading the skin of your ass and the other prodding at your hole, the pressure his fingers offered enough to have you pushing back against him and wishing for more.

warm palm pressing on your lower back, his crotch pressed to the back of your thigh as he continues working you open. hand and hips on either side of your shaking body being the only thing keeping you stable, sure that your legs would have given out without him holding you in place.

doesn’t speak much in response to the sounds you make, if you make any. rather, he will give affirmative hums, and - if he feels the time is appropriate - maybe even a chuckle at of your desperate state.

the thumb that swiped across your lower back did little to slow your rapidly beating heart and shaking legs, only adding to the pleasure you were receiving at the hands of your boyfriend. two skilled fingers sink into you and press against your walls, feeling so full from just his prep for later. he watches your fingers dig into the bedsheets, wrinkling them under your palms as a huff of air releases from him in a chuckle, and you’re almost able to hear the smirk on his face.

#⠀⠀⠀⠀★ (SZUYIIN) ⠀⠀⠀⠀#ateez smut #ateez hard hours #seonghwa smut #hongjoong smut #yunho smut #yeosang smut #san smut #mingi smut #wooyoung smut #jongho smut #kpop smut #★ (181024)

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halfbloodgf · 4 months

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Can we talk about the fact that Severus Snape left everyone, both the characters and the readers, like this: 🤡🤡

I mean, no one knew wtf was going on with him. One moment u think he's bad, the next u think he's good. And then u think he's the villain again. But then he gives his memories to Harry and we all realize that he was the fucking hero all along.

In hp1, we think it's Snape who was trying to steal the philosopher's stone, or who tried to knock Harry off his broom. But then comes the end, and we find out that he stopped Harry from falling (saved his life) and was protecting the stone...🤡

We still hated him in hp 2 and 3...

In hp4 Harry suspects that Snape had the Dark Mark, and ends up discovering that he did. There's even the scene that Harry sees: Igor Karkaroff accuses Snape in court in front of the Wizengamot, saying he was a Death Eater, and we're all like😯😃 (finally know the truth!!). But then Dumbledore defends him😐🧍🏻‍♀️, and no one, not Karkaroff, not Harry, not us readers, understand anything. We don't know whether to trust him or not. So, again...🤡

In hp5 everything is confusing with him. We don't know if he wants to help Harry (occlumency lessons) or not. He calls Voldemort "Dark Lord" (only Death Eaters do), we see his worst memory, which, again, leaves us bewildered and not knowing what the hell to think of him now. Harry himself doubts that his father was a good person, even wondering if James didn't force Lily to marry him, and empathizes with Snape. Then the whole thing with the prophecies, and Harry trying to warn Snape about Sirius and his supposed kidnapping. The Order arrives to save Harry and his friends, which suggests that Snape warned them.

But along comes hp and the Half-Blood Prince, Snape appears to be helping Draco Malfoy with what the Lord entrusted him with —The scene where Bellatrix accuses him, tells him that she doesn't trust him, and then she is surprised:

In the books:

[...]Do you really think that the Dark Lord has not asked me each and every one of those questions? And do you really think that, had I not been able to give satisfactory answers, I would be sitting here talking to you?”

She hesitated. “I know he believes you, but…”

“You think he is mistaken? Or that I have somehow hoodwinked him? Fooled the Dark Lord, the greatest wizard, the most accomplished Legilimens the world has ever seen?”

[...]

“And through all this we are supposed to believe Dumbledore has never suspected you?” asked Bellatrix. “He has no idea of your true allegiance, he trusts you implicitly still?”

“I have played my part well,” said Snape.

In the movies:

The line where he says “Dumbledore is a great wizard”, Snape is actually being smug and subtly saying he’s such a good actor (I mean, come on, the man deserves a fucking Oscar), he’s managed to deceive Voldemort so well that he has revealed his grand plan to him. He practically seems to be laughing at the double meaning of his own words, mocking and lying to the black sister's faces like the fucking boss he is. The way he's literally drinking a glass of wine while laughing at the Dark Lord. The whole scene is just excellent.

So at the end of hp6, Snape reveals to us that he was the half-blood prince for whom the fucking book is named, ends up murdering none other than ALBUS DUMBLEDORE, and we all learn that all this time his true loyalties were with the dark side...🤡

Oh no, wait! Hp7 arrives, Voldemort kills Snape :0 (Yes!), gives his memories to Harry, and Harry sees his memories and... (NOO😦😨😰😭💔💀). We found out he wasn't the bad guy. That, in fact, he was IN LOVE WITH HARRY'S MOM —"always" still hurts :')— That all this time he was our ally...🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡

He practically played with all of us, with LORD VOLDEMORT, the Death Eaters, the Order of the Phoenix, Harry... well, WITH EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WIZARDING WORLD. And he did it as if he were:

Harry fucking Potter named one of his sons after him, which must have made a lot of people roll in their graves (James and Sirius out of anger, Snape out of laughter).

This mf literally woke up one day and said: "okay, here begins my reputation era bitches.😎 Let's leave a few of them looking like🤡🤡"

PD: Sorry if something is written wrong, english is not my language.

#severus snape #snape love #harry potter #professor snape #pro snape #snape

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thebenjiblackwoodexpress · 2 months

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The Blackwood Knight prt.8

Disclaimer: I wrote this because Victoria is a Shakespeare girlie and loves Romeo and Juliet. She also loves Crimson Peak, which inspired the last two parts.

Description: Benjicot resorts to drastic measures to win back his lady's trust and love, having accidentally placed doubt in her mind as to his true intentions.

Part 7

Playlist:

Gold Rush~ Taylor Swift

The Way I Loved You~ Taylor Swift

How You Get The Girl~ Taylor Swift

Adore You ~ Harry Styles

Warnings: female reader. Nothing else I don't think. Robb being an iconic twink with access to the blueprints for Bracken Hall and too much sass for Westeros to handle.

"Let me get this absolutely crystal clear in my mind. You described your union as 'mutually beneficial'!" Robb cried incredulously, striking Benjicot on the shoulder from behind, as he sat slumped onto a desk in the library of his ancestral seat.

The glow cast by the lit lanterns, attached to the ancient stone walls, cast shadows over his face which bore signs of the deepest distress.

"It sounds beyond reprehensible when you repeat those words, words which I most bitterly regret. I did not mean them in the way that both yourself and my lady have interpreted them, but it makes them no less acrid when you repeat them." He responded dejectedly, slumping his head once again upon the desk.

Mumbling almost incomprehensibly so that Robb had to tilt his head down towards his friend to hear him.

"What can I do to make amends? She hates me. I fear she will never speak to me again."

Robb cast a contemptuous look at his friend before retorting.

"You bloody fool. Not only did you make her sound to even my indulgent ears like a prize to be bartered between Houses, but you also did so with the very fiend from whose taunts you once defended her. Can you not see that you have made a shy, sweet girl who loved and trusted you feel as if the one person who she believed cared for her and would protect her above all others was nothing more than a cipher of the bullies she has sought to shield herself from?!"

Seeing Benjicot's increasingly pained expression, as he roughly gripped his hair in both hands, Robb relented a little.

"The damage you have done in your carelessness will be very difficult to remedy. You must show her that you love her and value her above all else. Words are not enough."

Lifting his head, Benjicot's expression became resolved as he turned it to meet his friend.

"I will, even if she will never again allow me to be in her presence," He struggled to continue, the thought causing him physical pain, "I must at the very least convince her that my love for her was never a lie. I cannot bear the thought that I have only cemented her insecurities. That I have born my own part in making her feel as if I mocked her...just like her contemptuous cousin."

At this, he began to rise.

"I must see her."

Perking up at this and slapping his friend approvingly on the back, Robb moved to lift his sword from the table and responded.

"Glad to hear it. I'll get the Lads together and we can defend your flank whilst you hop over the border and get on your knees to beg your lady for forgiveness, you're favourite past time I know."

Looking at him with mild irritation, Benjicot rose, placing a firm hold on Rob's shoulder.

"Whilst I greatly appreciate the support, I must go myself. She's shy and frightened enough of me, after my misdemeanor, and I don't want you and your cronies scaring her off before I can even apologise."

Laughing at this, Robb retorted smugly.

"More likely you're afraid of her falling in love with me. Fear not, my interests lie in another direction entirely, but I'll hold off if you are determined. Of course Kermit will be devastated not to have a free shot at a Bracken, but I will assuage him."

With this, Benjicot nodded at his friend before rising quickly and striding from the room, through the halls of Raventree as he continued to ruminate with anguish on the distressed face of his lovely lady and the part he had played in causing her distress. He would explain that he loved her and valued her above all else. That he meant every word he had said to her. That he would protect, serve and adore her if she would only let him, only forgive him. He would beg for her forgiveness, even if she could never herself love him again. It would be enough if she would only permit him to continue in her presence as a loyal knight.

It had been a day since Y/N had fled from the man she had come to trust and love, the only one she believed had ever cared for her and seen her as more than a shadow in the background of life....mistakenly. After Aeron had carried her back to her quarters in Bracken Hall she had locked her doors and allowed no visitors, barring her handmaiden.

She spent the intervening hours between that of the previous days events and the advent of night on her balcony, her still pained ankle raised on a cushion on her chaise, as she read of Visenya. She was mentally and physically retreating to the shelter of her room and her books, determined never to open her heart to another person, as she had so foolishly done this time. She was silly to believe that Benjicot could love her for herself, rather than the political promise she could represent for him. She had trusted him where she had never invested anyone else with such trust. She had begun to gain in confidence in her dreams, her beliefs, and in his love, all for it to be shattered in a moment. Her embarrassment at having opened her heart to another person, to revealing herself so freely, where she was always so careful to be a shadowy presence in others' lives, was overwhelming, as she sunk further into her seat and further into herself.

Wrapped in these painful thoughts, it was a few seconds before she heard a muffled voice calling her name from the direction of the dark expanse underneath her window. Rising carefully from her seat, using the pillars lining the portico of the balcony to balance herself as she moved towards the edge of it, she looked down to see the hopeful and desperate expression of the man she both hated and loved. Seeing her come into view, his face lit up with irrepressible delight, before quickly falling when she began to quickly turn away, book pressed protectively to her chest as she made to retreat to her room. She did not want to speak with him.

Seeing her retreat, he quickly called out.

"Please my love, please, I entreat you to let me explain what you overheard in the woods."

Stopping where she was, she turned and moved once again back to the edge of the balcony.

Speaking quietly and timidly, but not so much so that he could not hear her, accustomed as he was to listening for her quiet voice, she responded.

"Please leave, I do not wish to speak with you now or henceforth. I can't understand why you are here now when you have made it abundantly clear that I myself am not what you seek. I would like you to leave."

Taking a deep, pained breath, Benjicot's expression underwent several changes before it became resolute and he stepped determinedly towards the pillar bolstering the balcony from the ground.

Confused at his movements, Y/N became panicked when she realised he was climbing the pillar, frozen in position. It wasn't until he had swung his leg over the top of the balcony and had landed gracefully that she turned to flee, forgetting her injured ankle in the attempt, causing herself to stumble and hold onto a nearby pillar for support. Feeling gentle hands enclose around her elbows, she heard Benjicot speak quietly near her cheek.

"Please don't run from me, my love. Your ankle is still injured. Please just allow me to help you."

Looking down with concern at the ankle in question, he slowly, with great caution lest his lady should be offended, raised her arm around his neck and held her waist, fully supporting her weight so that he could place her on her chaise.

Distressed to see his lady look away from him, her expression betraying embarrassment as well as displeasure, he knelt before her, bending his head low, before gently, reverently holding her hands in both of his own.

"I will not disturb you further if you do not wish it, but I must convince you of the truth of my feelings for you and beg for your forgiveness for making you believe otherwise."

Stopping him abruptly, Benjicot immediately desisted in deference to her speech, so important was anything she had to say to him, even if she meant only to order him away from her forever.

Speaking quietly, she interrupted him.

"I already heard what both you and my cousin said of me when you believed me not to be listening. I know that your protestations of love for me were all a ruse and that you were both in league together."

Benjicot's expression betrayed the deep pain he felt at her response, drooping his head to rest it on her knees.

"I can never apologise enough, nor beg for your forgiveness enough, for making you believe such a horrific notion. I had never spoken to your cousin of you before that dreadful moment, except when I first had the honour of meeting you. You were never just a bartering tool between us. I would break his legs if even tried to make such a suggestion. I had only meant to convey to him that I would repair the conflict between our houses so that in choosing me as your husband you would not also be choosing to abandon all that you knew. It is my mistake that I so brazenly worded my intent, my love." He added, casting his face down in desperation.

"I have loved you since I first saw you sitting with your nose tucked into your histories under the Brackentree and have persued your love ever since. I have meant every word I have said to you since, and will continue to prove it to you in any way thay you will allow me."

His lady slightly turning towards him, Benjicot grew at once desperate and hopeful that she would listen to his entreaties, gripping her hands tighter in his as he raised his face to hers, hoping to convey the truth of his feelings in his eyes.

"You speak very elegantly but I now know that you are so to all ladies and that this charade is not reserved for me alone."

Reaching out to touch her face before quickly retracting his hand once he saw Y/N move away from him in discomfort, he instead responded.

"Whilst I would consider myself to be a gentleman, there is only one lady I would traverse miles of enemy land and scale walls to get to." Saying this with a gentle smile, he continued to gaze upon her reverently.

When she did not respond, he removed a brown leather volume from its place, stashed underneath his cloak.

"I found this in my library and I thought it might be of interest to you."

Hesitantly reaching to take the volume from his hand, she examined it before opening it.

As she did so, he interposed "May I?" Pointing at the book.

He turned the pages to an earmarked section, coloured with a rich illustration of a knight kneeling in homage before a queen.

"This tells the story of a knight loyal to his queen above all else, swearing to protect, serve and..." He hesitated "love her for all of his life".

She gazed curiously down at the illustration in her hands as he spoke.

"I thought you would like to have it, even should you order me away from your presence now. But I should like it to serve as an illustration of the devotion I feel towards you and as a reminder that I will always protect and adore you, even if only as your knight. Without any conditions. Without any expectation for you to love me in return. Just....let me adore you." He faltered staring up at her penitently, anxiously awaiting her response.

It was a few agonising moments for Benjicot before Y/N raised her hand towards his shoulder, causing him to hold his breath lest he frighten her in his shock. Delicately placing her hand on his shoulder, she placed the other one on his other shoulder, causing him to subconsciously lean into her touch.

Looking timidly away from him, she began to speak.

"So you really did not mean that I was a...political tool."

Leaning further towards her face, he quickly refuted such a notion.

"I would thrash any man who suggested it. You are my lady, my love."

Gazing into his eyes searchingly, she seemed to find what she sought in them, and leant her head gently upon his shoulder.

Shocked, yet rejoicing at her affectionate gesture and in the comfort she seemed to look to from him, he lost no time in wrapping a protective arm around her waist, pulling her into his torso as he held her head gently in his other hand. Closing his eyes in relief, he held her like that for a few peaceful moments, scarcely believing that his love had forgiven him and that she had initiated their embrace. Taking it as a sign of the trust she had reinvested in him to protect her heart as well as her person, he solemnly swore in his own mind to guard it with more sucess than he had yet done as of late.

She pulled away too quickly for his liking, wishing as he did that she could always be so close to him.

"How did you even find your way here with impunity, let alone my balcony?"

Smirking at this, Benjicot threw his cloak dramatically over his shoulder to amuse her with his antics.

"I of course practiced great stealth, opting for a cloak and daggers approach."

Raising a disapproving eyebrow at him but with her mouth turned up at the corner, Benjicot rejoiced to have made her smile and to have amused her.

"In truth i just walked past the Red Ford and straight until i found Bracken Hall, i wasn't too worried about encountering any Bracken men. I'd just run them through if they tried to prevent me from reaching my Love. As far as finding your balcony goes, i was just blessed to see your pretty person upon it....and my good friend Robb also has an encyclopedic knowledge of Bracken Hall, having planned to storm it so many times." He added, slightly sheepishly.

Rolling her eyes at him, lightly swatting his chest.

"You're crazy."

Smirking again he rose to put his arm against the wall by her face, leaning his face towards hers.

"Crazy about you."

"And ridiculous," she added, laughing.

Reaching out to hold her chin gently in his other hand he leaned in further, before whispering in response "ridiculously in love with you", as his lips crashed onto hers, his arm moving to encircle her waist and support her weight as he did so.

Breaking the kiss, he stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, gazing up at her as if she were the sun.

"Can i come and see you tomorrow?" He asked tentatively, unable to fully conceal his fear that she would still order him hence.

"I'd rather you didn't risk your life in such a dangerous attempt. I can always come to meet you."

Frowning at this, he stroked the back of her cheekbone with his nuckle.

"You think i would allow my darling to cross that distance with an injured leg when i can cross it myself?"

Seeing her blush at his appellation, he smiled and reached forward to increase her blush by kissing the corner of her mouth.

"I think not. I have no fear of your Bracken bannermen. Although I do fear having to inform my disapproving lady love that i've despatched all of them because they tried to stop me from seeing her."

Benjicot walked away from his lady love's balcony that evening, not before blowing her a kiss, and silently rejoicing that she had forgiven him and permited him to remain in her presence and in her heart.

@lovebabe18-blog @poppyflower-22 @ithilwen-blackwood @spinachtz @lady-callisto @twistytimesandthoughts @abookloverlawyerfan-blog @mymoonempress @drwho-ess @dancingbaek @aemondslove @cheendrella

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon x reader #benjicot blackwood #aeron bracken #davos blackwood #benjicot blackwood x reader #house blackwood #benjicot blackwood oneshot #benjicot blackwood imagine #benjicot x reader #bloody ben x reader #house of the dragon oneshot #house of the dragon imagine #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd oneshot #hotd imagine

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queers-gambit · 10 months

Text

Aces

prompt: ( requested ) during a terrible storm, you're invited to stay at your boss' house. years of tip-toeing around one another comes to an end when emotions are finally laid on the table.

pairing: Tommy Shelby x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Peaky Blinders

word count: 3.5k+

warning: honestly, it's pretty tame. some cursing, kinda-sorta one bed, most def OC Tommy, fluff, author is def on the Grace Hating Train but it's mild.

With a grunt, you threw the file of paperwork from your hands across the empty room; scattering across the floor. You were agitated, grouchy, beyond exhausted, and yet, there was no use in trying to leave when the worst storm to ransack England was being unleashed from the seediest parts of hell.

All you wanted was to go to bed for about 16 hours, but as midnight ticked closer and closer, that dream was dwindling. You'd be lucky to get a few hours at this point since your job was demanding enough to warrant early mornings and late nights. But this night was later than ever before.

You often wondered if your employer's antics brought this hell-storm upon you all, but figured, God didn't care that much about Small Heath. He most certainly didn't care for the Devil running it.

"Woah!" A voice laughed when the file went flying. "Gott'an arm on yah, love! Nearly took me fuckin' eye out!"

"Ha-ha," you mocked John Shelby, your employer's younger brother. "What're you still doing here?"

"I was about to ask you the same," he smirked, squatting so he was in front of you with an exaggerated pout. "Why're you still here, love? Tommy's still gotcha workin'?"

"No, it's my own vocation."

"Tommy don't pay overtime, sweetheart."

"No shit," your eyes rolled. "In case I'm the only one capable of seeing it, there's an outlandish storm outside that prevents me from getting home." You gestured around where you sat on the floor, surrounded by files and other paperwork, "So, what else was I gonna do to pass the time?"

"It's not that bad," he waved you off. "C'mon, I'm off t'the Garrison, come with me, love. We can drink 'til the storm passes, huh?"

"John, seriously, I'm warning you," you deadpanned, watching him adjust his flatcap.

"C'mon, sweet cheeks, we can endure it," he laughed, opening the door and literally being shoved back by the force of the wind. You didn't make a sound, just reaching to hold down the papers around you as he grunted and groaned, trying to shut the flailing door; only able to once he threw his entire weight into it.

"Told you," you mused, his face and coat dripping wet from the short time the door was open.

"So, you're staying here, then?" He asked, panting, trying to play off the entire ordeal.

"I figured I'd get some more work done, it's not like Tommy gives any days off," you shrugged.

"He'd give you whatever you asked for," John smirked, taking his coat off.

"No, he needs me to do shit on the daily, there aren't days off, John Boy," you rolled your eyes playfully. "But I knew what I was signing up for when I agreed to work for you idiots."

"Hey," he pouted.

"Oh, honey, if it helps any, you're my favorite idiot!"

"Good," he pointed at you with a small laugh. "But seriously, love, if you need the day off, Tommy would do it."

"No, there's so much to do here," you frowned. "We're on track to reopen in a few weeks, and if I take a day off, we'll fall behind, and you know Tommy doesn't do delays."

The gambling den the Shelby's operated was getting a make over now that The Shelby Company Limited was soon to be up and running. Hence why you were there in an empty room with only files around you and a dimly lit lap, you were trying to get shit organized before furniture could be moved back in.

You would have to restock Polly's office, Tommy's, Arthur's, and John's - all of who were Company members and would need their space to work. Not to mention the completely different office Tommy was currently eyeing to use as his base of operation, something you, as his personal assistant, was expected to help with every step of the way. Honestly, it was a miracle Tommy was ever able to get shit done before you - an organizational Goddess.

"Well," John sighed, looking around for a moment before shrugging and placing his hands on his hips, "want some help?"

You chuckled, "No, it's all right, John, you go on. Surely the lads will be home soon - "

Speak of the Devil! And He will appear!

The door burst open, sending your files every which way from the gust of wind; several bodies shoving their way inside before the lone, single body of Tommy Shelby stalked in last. He shut the door without issue, being a force of nature himself; a professionally observant, silent, lone menace that commanded the attention of any room he walked into. People on the street parted for him like the Red Sea, flocked to the darkened parts of the streets just to get a glimpse of the gangster in motion.

For as long as you can remember, you've harbored overwhelming affection for your boss, but never once vocalized it out of sheer fear of rejection.

He was Thomas Shelby. He was an enigma; a mysterious, stoic man that instilled a sense of fear and respect from those around him. You included, but yet never dare let your admiration for your employer be known in public. You loved him from a distance; admiring him and feeling yourself fall further into your unrequited love due to the intimate proximity you shared. He's always treated you as exactly what you were - a valuable member of the Company and his personal assistant. You worked intimately together on a daily basis, and each night you went home, you would scream into a pillow out of sheer frustration.

Being his personal assistant meant you were constantly in close proximity, and no matter how hard you tried to fight your feelings, it was impossible. He was Thomas bloody Shelby - insanely suave, charismatic, a deep nut to crack, but once he opened up, he was insanely loyal, caring, even decently amusing. He was all you wanted, but never felt secure enough to admit your feelings for him.

You were greeted happily by the men, all piling into the Shelby home to take refuge from the storm. You were left to silently rock to your feet and start gathering the papers that had gone flying in their entrance, glancing up when a hand offered help in rounding up your supplies. "Thank you, Mr. Shelby, but I got it," you insisted quietly, accepting the pages he handed you.

Tommy always had a soft spot for you.

He was silent for a moment, then asked, "What're you still doin' here?"

"Storm makes it impossible to get home," you shrugged. "I was waiting until it lessened, but it doesn't seem to," you glanced out the window, still shuffling files and papers together.

"You've worked all day," he sighed, "c'mon."

"Uh... Where?"

"Think you've earned a drink," he eased, already striding out of the room. You quickly finished gathering your papers, stacking them all together, but was pleasantly shocked when Tommy returned to the empty room with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

"Mr. Shelby, don't - "

But he was already sat on the ground, back against a wall, watching you with amusement. "Think a man's too good to sit on the floor?" He asked, uncorking the bottle.

"When their suit is so expensive that I have to take it to a specific cleaners, perhaps, then yes," you answered truthfully.

"I've money to spare, I can send this suit to be cleaned by another errand boy, you won't have to any longer," he poured two glasses of whiskey, "but tonight's company is too good to pass up."

You laughed, "Oh, no, what did you do?"

"Hmm?"

"You're kissing my arse a little, what've you done? What mess do I have to clean tomorrow?"

He smirked as you finally sat beside him, a bit stiffly, but accepted the drink he served. "Nothing, love, this storm's put a halt on everything," he gestured to the window, unaware that your heart stalled in your chest when you heard him call you 'love'. "What is it you were working on?" He asked, fingering the few files stacked between you. "Ah," he mused, reading the titles of the packets, "trying to get a jump on tomorrow, huh?"

"Not very much else to do," you shrugged. "I... I got a little frustrated. I think I'll need Polly to go over a few things with me."

"I'm sure you've got it," he spoke quietly. "I wouldn't have hired you if incapable."

You nodded, "Right, of course, sir."

Mr. Shelby offered you a look, taking a swig of whiskey. "You know, after hours, you don't have to be so professional."

"You didn't hire me to be unprofessional, though."

"No, I didn't, but this isn't a work meeting," he offered his glass. "We can still be friendly, can we not?"

You clinked his glass with yours, "Sure, of course we can..." How the hell could you be 'friendly' to the man you've pined after for the past two years? "So, I heard Grace skipped town," you started, instantly wincing when you realized what you said. "I-I'm so sorry, Mr. Shelby, I didn't mean to - "

But he chuckled, "You heard correct." He waited a long moment, then offered, "She's gone - for good."

You tested the waters, "Is... That a good thing?"

"It is."

"I thought you liked the barmaid?"

"I thought I did, too, but I've been wrong before."

"I doubt that."

"No, truly," he smirked, "I've made my fair share of mistakes."

"That you'd be willing to admit to?"

"Well, that's a different story," he mused, downing the last of his glass. "C'mon," he decided, sitting up, "the others are in the den, if you'd like to join?"

"Oh, no, I don't wish to intrude."

"Where were you going to sleep, then? If this storm doesn't die off in the next hour?" You gestured to where your coat and belongings were bunched up beside you, shrugging lightly. "No, absolutely not," he glared when he took in your makeshift bed, "you're coming in, you'll stay the night here."

"No, you lot are having family time - "

"And why do you assume you aren't family yet?" He asked sharply, making you reel back a little. "Three years, you've worked with my family, a portion of that before any of us came home. C'mon, love, you're more family than others wish to pretend to be."

"You mean that?" You worried softly.

He offered a look of mild offense, "I don't speak to hear the sound of my own voice. I would not say it if I did not mean it."

The whiskey in your system encouraged you to offer a sharp look, snipping, "It would not kill you to just say, 'Yes, I mean it.'"

Tommy smirked lightly, nodding, "Yes, I mean it. Come, you'll stay here tonight."

You couldn't fight off the smile even if you tried. With your coat and purse in one hand, Tommy took the other to help you off the floor. Like a gentleman, he took your belongings before leading you further into the Shelby home; leaving the empty gambling den to find the others all stuffed around a table with a card game loudly being played; fireplace stoked to life.

Polly greeted you happily, not knowing you were still here. Tommy set your things to the side as Arthur wrangled you into the seat beside him - insisting you had to be on his team! A quick sniff of his tea mug assured he was waist deep in the whiskey.

"Okay! New player at the table!" John announced, yanking all the cards back to hand over to Polly. They were all smoking, minus you and Finn. "You all know the rules - hey, hey, hey, no! Tommy's not on her team!" He pointed at you and his brother, who had sat beside you to sandwich you between Shelby's.

"Why not?" Tom asked, accepting the tea from Polly as Finn handed you your own.

"Thank you, little love," you whispered, pecking his cheek as he giggled.

"Becuase you two can communicate without words - it's fucking weird!" John insisted. "All right! Polly, you're with Tommy - the fucker likes to cheat."

"Being better than you isn't cheating, John Boy."

"Is when there's money on the line!" John laughed, Arthur leaning over to explain to you the game. He was actually a very good teacher, and even for a few rounds, you weren't a "viable player" just to let you watch and get the gist of things.

However, when you joined the game, it was far more intense than you had given credit for. But the Shelby's were competitive lads, Polly just happy to laugh and remind the boys of the rules; letting them dominate the table as you were content to just watch, laugh, and sip your tea. After a few rounds, Finn came over and hopped up on your lap, declaring you two a team now, and believe it or not, you won the next three hands!

"CHEATERS! AYE!?" John yelled, laughing right after as a boom of thunder rattled the home.

"No, call that beginners luck!" Arthur tried to defend, Tommy lighting a new cigarette.

"Or maybe John's just not accustomed to losing?" You grinned. "Especially from a lady?"

"I lost to a lady? Where? Where is she?" John looked around comically, earning a swift kick under the table that rattled the tea cups.

"All right, all right, next hand, we play for money, come on, come on, bets in the center," Polly instructed. "Finn, don't," she warned and you reached up to push the lad's hand down as he was ready to toss in a few pounds.

"Here, I'll cover us," you told the little lad, both grinning when you offered money to the center. Unknown to you, Tommy was keeping mental track of however much you were betting - intent to pay you back. Yet he didn't say anything, content to watch you and Finn have fun together.

Arthur and John were the most vocal of the group, arguing about scores and tallies and who won which round. You chuckled as Finn leaned into your chest, everyone waiting for the two to finish arguing; Polly looking over with a broad smirk before dropping her gaze. Tommy had seemingly naturally moved closer to you, one arm extended behind your chair to keep you close to his warmth.

Neither seemed to notice.

Not even when you would turn to crack a joke directly in Tommy's ear, his lips spreading in an easy smile that made Polly fight off her own grin. Grace was something special to Tommy, sure, this was true, but after the time together, she could tell that the two of you had become something more - without even verbalizing it.

Never realizing.

Hours passed, the storm still raged, two cartons of cigarettes was smoked between the lot of them, and there was no clear winner in sight. Finn had fully deflated into your embrace, asleep despite the loud thunder and blinding flashes of lightning. Your head had lulled onto Tommy's shoulder, sleep clawing at your eyelids as you listened to a drunken John and Arthur still argue about the card game. Polly eventually called it quits and bid everyone a goodnight, smiling softly when she noted the cozy seating between you and Tommy.

The longer you sat there, you more exhausted you became.

"C'mon, love," Tommy whispered softly, rousing you from your half-sleep, "let's get you to bed. C'mon, up you get," he smirked, aiding you from your chair as you kept a firm hold on his little brother. "We'll see you lot in the morning," he told his brothers.

"Night," John and Arthur waved, still deep into their argument, but smirking to one another when Tommy lead you up the stairs. When you were gone from sight, John leaned in and asked his eldest brother, "Think Tommy'll make a move tonight?"

Arthur glanced up the stairs, musing, "If he doesn't, he might be stupider then we thought."

John agreed.

Upstairs, Tommy opened the bedroom door and let you lay Finn softly on his bed, pausing to tug his shoes off and cover him with his blanket; moving his stuffed teddy bear closer and watching his sleeping hand naturally curl around it. You snuck out of the door, Tommy shutting the door, and tangled your hand with his.

Silently, he lead you to his bedroom.

It was small, ridiculously small, but it was enough for his single person. Tommy shut the door after you, moving around, muttering, "You can sleep in this," as he handed you one of his shirts, "and I'll be in the drawing room if you need me - "

"Tommy, I'm not kicking you out of your room," you sighed. "I can sleep on the sofa for the night, it's not - "

"I'm not letting you do that," he refused sharply.

"Then we seem to be at an impasse," you decided with perked brows. "Either we're both sleeping on the sofa or we both crash your bed. You choose."

He chuckled dryly, "And here I thought the whiskey would make you less stubborn."

"Wishful thinking."

He nodded, letting you have the room to change and get under the covers. It was decently cold in his room, more so without pants; the storm doing nothing to remedy that, and when Tommy returned, everything felt different.

A good different, but still different.

Neither of you made eye contact, him joining you in the absurdly small bed after blowing the candles out. You settled on your side, facing the wall, and after a few moments of adjusting, Tommy was settling down - but hesitating to deflate in comfort.

"Is it all right if I, uh... If I...?"

"Yeah, 's all right, Tommy," you whispered, reaching for the hand that hovered over your waist and pulling it so he was curled around you. It was all he needed to readjust, sigh to himself, and deflate against your back. You shivered slightly when his warm breath fanned over your neck and shoulder; his hand splaying over your belly and rubbing his thumb mindlessly. "Thank you for letting me stay the night," you whispered.

"Wasn't gonna send you home in this weather," he answered, voice vibrating the shell of your ear. "Besides," he whispered in a sigh, "this is where I wanted you, and where I wanted to be."

You chuckled, "Oh, yeah? So cold in here you need a warm body in bed with you?"

"No," he whispered, "but I've been in love with you for months now that I didn't want you far from me. Doesn't feel right, seeing you go home without me - everyday. I was overjoyed to come back and see you still here."

"What?" He didn't let you turn around, just kept you both there; locked in your spoon. "Tommy, what're you saying?"

He took a sobering breath, "That this is what I want, this is where I want us to be."

"That's the whiskey talking."

"No, love, it's you," his lips danced across your ear, making you shiver. "It's always been you, but I wasn't in my right mind to do anything about it."

"And now you are?"

"I might be, I couldn't go another minute with you thinking I don't want you - that I don't value you in my life. The fact that you were ready to sleep downstairs hurt me more than I'm willing to admit," he sighed, "and I knew, I needed to confess a few things so you know, you're welcome in this family. You won't ever sleep downstairs, love, you're meant to be here... With me... If you want to be."

You had to slap his hand to get him to loosen his grip and let you turn around to face him; but his hand remained on your, moving up to grip your ribs. In a whisper, you asked, "You're being honest? Genuine?"

"I can't lie to you, you can always tell. So, am I lying?"

"I don't think so," you whispered with skepticism, eyes narrowed. Neither of your voices rose above a whisper, "Why say any of this, Tommy?"

"Because the idea of going another day without at least trying to tell you how I feel was beginning to feel suffocating."

"What about Grace?"

"It's taken me a bit, but I know now that I was infatuated with her simply because I had already decided you were out of my league."

"Do you hear yourself?" You grinned, caressing his cheek. "You're everything I've wished for, Tommy, but know I can't have. You're the one in a league of your own, I'm the one unable to touch you."

His head shook, "You're all I've wanted and more. I wasn't sure you'd think it appropriate - my affection for you - given you work for me."

"The same reason I feared voicing my affection for you, too."

"Now that it's in the open," he whispered, "how do you want to proceed?"

"We can figure logistics out later," you smiled, tracing your fingertips over his face, "but for now, I just want to enjoy this. I never thought you'd look at me the same way, and now that you do, I don't want to look away."

"You won't have to," he whispered. "I'm in this for us, my sweet, if you are."

"Nowhere I'd rather be," you whispered, cuddled close, and simply breathing the same air. For a single moment, Tommy felt unparalleled peace; the shovels quiet, heart content, and body warm.

requesting rules and masterlist

Peaky Blinders masterlist

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby drabble #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x f!reader #tommy shelby x fem!reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #peaky blinders #peaky blinders tommy #tommy peaky blinders #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n #tommy shelby one shot

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