#and then her heart was shattered and now shes stuck playing 'which could mean nothing' mind games against herself

[thedragonagelesbian]

Also its 'lady montilyet' and 'mistress lavellan' non fucking stop. First names are for women who are not engaged in an agonizing twenty month slow burn courtship

[sukirichi]

reckless [02.]

With a lackadaisical playboy as your boss, being reckless wasn’t an option. But on the one time you let loose and made mistakes, your life is shattered, and now you’re playing house with your insufferable boss who is the father of your baby.

✘ cw. angst, toxic situations

✘ note. yes, feel free to scream at me in the asks. but like don’t worry, i promise there’s more to come and there’s more to happen! it’s going to get fluffier as we go hehehehe. ALSO, I can’t help but feel that Zayn’s “Let Me” speaks perfectly to CEO playboy Gojo. hmph.

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One glance at the tall man beside you, and you would’ve thought he would pass out soon.

Satoru had been endlessly fidgety hours before the appointment. Flicking from music stations to another, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel or sighing at the sight of you calmly watching the city go by in a flash – it was clear he was restless. Judging from the dark circles he tried to conceal under a pair of shades, he probably hadn’t slept much last night as well.

Now that you were both inside the clinical room, with you laying back down on the reclined bed, belly exposed and all for him to marvel at, his knee hadn’t stopped bouncing. “Satoru, calm down. It’s just a doctor’s appointment.”

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly, rubbing his sweaty palms on his pants. “I’m just…excited yet nervous, you know? It feels so real now.”

Real didn’t begin to cover it. Although you masked your nervous quite well, you felt your stomach tighten when a woman came in. Her smile was gentle and comforting enough, talking you both through the process and spilling little fun facts about pregnancy. She applied a cool gel over your belly before turning to a screen, where mixed dots and waves of black and white blurred in front of your visions. Your eyes widened in awe, throat dry from the inability to speak. The baby had always felt real, but seeing it with your own two eyes, a small figure barely even a comprehensible shape in the screen, you couldn’t help but tear up a little.

“That’s mine?” Satoru breathed out, absentmindedly looping his hands through yours. It made you stiffen for a quick second, but your attention was quickly pulled back to the sonogram. “We made that?”

Your heart clenched at his words.

He sounded so happy – like all his dreams came true and you’d just given him a gift that was beyond priceless. You supposed it really was; a baby was always a miracle and joy to have, but this child wasn’t made out of love. How could he have so much fondness for something he didn’t want in the first place?

“The baby is perfectly healthy. This pregnancy doesn’t seem like a high-risk one, but it’s too early to tell so we’ll keep checking in on you,” the doctor pushed her glasses back to her nose, the sound of her cool voice pulling you back from a dangerous path of self-doubt and wariness. “Do you guys want to know the gender?”

Glancing at Satoru, you shook your head. It was amusing that you didn’t need to share words before he got the meaning behind one look, and he squeezed your hand as if to say he understood.

“I’d like that to be more of a surprise. Thank you, doctor.”

“Congratulations on being a father, Sir,” she bowed, and it occurred to you just now she was probably a family doctor. Satoru did end up keeping his promise that your pregnancy be kept private for a while. This little detail made you turn to him with shock written all over your face, though his attention was centred in on the swirling monochrome colours on the screen. Whether the doctor noticed the brewing tension between you two or not, you were still gad when they bowed once more to excuse themselves. “I’ll leave you two to talk now.”

The moment she was gone, you sat up and pushed your blouse down. Satoru’s demeanour had changed as well. His smile was wiped from his face, replaced only by a slight downturn of his lips.

Sighing, you swung your legs over the bed, not minding one bit that he was inches away from resting his chin onto your thighs. “Is there something you’re not telling me? You’ve been so worried since we got here.”

Satoru winced.

“Am I that obvious?”

“Even if you aren’t, it’s not that hard to see through you,” you spoke gently, a spirit possessing you because there would’ve been no other logical reason on why you placed a palm over his. Satoru’s hands were warm and large as he cupped your knee, tracing little patterns over your jeans as he kept his gaze lowered to the floor. It was an odd sight to see; that the Gojo Satoru refused to look a woman in the eye. “Tell me. What’s wrong?”

Satoru’s sigh is painfully drawn out, though his chuckles took the brunt.

“I don’t know what to do – how to be a father, I mean. Don’t you ever get worried…that maybe we might fuck up and ruin someone’s life?”

“Hey,” you cupped his cheek, forcing him to look you in the eyes – which you really wished he didn’t, because you’d never seen such azure this up close before. It was no secret that his eyes alone stole the hearts of people, but you had to remind yourself he broke them as well, so that you pulled away right before he got too close for comfort. It wasn’t what he needed anyway. Satoru simply required reassurance, so you opted for an awkward pat on the shoulder. “Weren’t you the one telling me the other day we’ll work it out?”

“Yeah, but…”

“But what?”

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head, a smile lighting up his features once more. “Are you feeling good? There’s someplace I want to take you, as a celebration for our healthy baby.”

You pursed your lips. As much as you appreciated his enthusiasm, this ‘celebration’ didn’t sound like a good idea. You’ve made mistakes before and now you lived the consequence of it; being reckless was outdated. Caution, wariness, and space were the top three perfect recipes for the complete opposite of a disaster.

“I don’t think that’s necessary.”

“Why not?” he challenged, taking your hand in his as he guided you out the clinic. You made no comment on why he led you out the back where he’d parked his car, even going as far to bow for you as he opened your door. “Liven up a little, we got good news today! Plus, we didn’t both take a day for nothing. Come on, you’re going to have fun, I promise you!”

“And where would we go where people won’t recognize you?”

“Somewhere people are too lost in their own world to focus on others,” Satoru announced before sending you a side glance, smooth hands already on their way to rev the engine.

This wouldn’t go down well. Or at least that was what you wanted to believe, because his smile and excitement were too contagious that you couldn’t restrain the smile you wore.

“A carnival? Really? We’re too old for this.”

“We’re never too old for anything,” he insisted, placing his hands on your shoulders as he maneuvered from stall to stall. Everywhere around you, children and people of all ages milled by, laughter and screams that fading into the distance. One survey at the long, endless lines for the rides and crowded spaces, you grimaced, feeling an uncomfortable weight resting on your shoulders that was beyond Satoru’s hands. “Aw, come on, don’t be such a bore. Day offs like these are rare and think about the baby! Don’t you think they would’ve wanted us to get a long?”

“You’re just using the baby as an excuse to have fun.”

Of course he would – Gojo Satoru was like a man-child. Whether it was someone randomly bringing donuts or puppies into the office, he easily lit up like a firework, seemingly finding joy in every little thing. Being stuck in the office and forced to work his ass off under your supervision must’ve taken a toll on him too.

Add on the fact he hadn’t gone out on dates or parties ever since he found out he was going to be a dad, the desperation to go out and do something was written all over his face.

Satoru pouted. “That’s mean. Take that back.”

“No.”

“And I’m the childish one here?” he snickered. You merely rolled your eyes at him and gave in; too much time spent working and not enough time relaxing (not that being a carnival was your definition or relaxation, but alas, Satoru was dragging you around everywhere like always) wouldn’t be good for the baby.

“You see that bear over there? I’m going to win that for you. It could be my first ever present for our baby.”

There was no stopping him. You didn’t want to, either, because you just stood there, arms crossed against your chest as you let him do whatever he pleased. A literal man-child, a youthful soul stuck in an irritatingly attractive man’s body – these were the thoughts that ran through your head while Satoru kept swinging his arm back and forth. He chose a stall where you had to knock down stacks of cans down with one set of three balls, all because he wanted to win a bear. You would really rather go home than watch him fail four times now, but he wasn’t giving up, only flexing his shoulders before gesturing to the young man.

“Hey man, three more balls please.”

Nothing was funny about it at all. Watching your boss fail miserably even after ten tries shouldn’t have been so hilarious, yet sweat was dripping all over his face and his patience was hanging on a loose thread that you were giggling before you knew it.

His usual confident bravado began to tear down bit by bit, his face flushed from the sounds of your teasing.

“Satoru, stop,” you laughed, “We’ve been here for twenty minutes and your wallet might as well be empty! You can just go buy a bear at the mall.”

“You’re too functional. Where would be the meaning behind it if I just bought a random bear?” he huffed, pushing the sleeves of his denim jacket up to his elbows. Determined now more than ever, he even stretched his long arms side to the side with a shake of his hips. You could tell the young man manning the stall was hiding his amusement by whistling to himself, but Satoru really was such a ridiculous sight you couldn’t blame him. “No, I’m going to get that for you, then I’ll brag to my baby how cool their dad was when he knocked those cans down.”

“You mean, if you knock those cans down.”

His shoulders deflated. “Support me a little bit, will you?”

“Hmm, I don’t know, it might just inflate your ego and you’ll be too distracted by yourself to ever actually knock those cans down,” He threw a ball with a force so strong it hit the curtain above the cans, and it bounced back somewhere below the tables. It didn’t even touch the can by a smidge, and you snorted. “See what I mean?”

Expecting that Satoru would take insult to heart (as his ego was easily wounded, this much you knew when he refused to talk to anyone at the office for a whole day because one of his directors forgot his name) you smirked at him, but that smirk immediately dropped when he grinned back at you. He was no longer wimpy like before, an aura of confidence brimming from him. “That’s like the second time you’ve told me I was distracting,” he mused, leaving you baffled because he was right. “On the contrary, I think you’rea lot more distracting, so I take that back. Just stand there and watch me win.”

“Okay,” you drawled out in faux disinterest, thankful for the corny carnival music and chatter from the crowd that he couldn’t hear your poor beating heart.

You were too focused on pretending to be unbothered by him that you failed to see how the cans were knocked down. The counter guy was already picking them up as Satoru pumped his fists in the air, way too much like a child high on sugar.

Was this really the father of your baby?

“I won! I fucking won! That huge brown bear, please!”Satoru’s smile from holding the bear that was half his size couldn’t even compare to the city lights and sparklers. Even his eyes were lit up in joy as he skipped back to you, happily waving the doe-eyed bear in front of you. At your lack of reaction, he sighed before jutting his cheek out to you. “No congratulations kiss?”

“How about a slap?”

“Kinky,” he teased, sending your brain to overheat when he tapped his chin in thought. “Well, you did make my back bleed so I kind of got the idea you’re sort of extreme in bed – ow! Would you please stop hitting me? I just won you a wonderful prize and your first reaction is to hit me! This arm is exhausted from swinging endlessly, you know.”

“Maybe if you aimed better, you wouldn’t have had to exhaust yourself. Like I said, you could’ve just bought a bear,” you scolded, raising your arm threateningly when he opened his mouth again. Idiot. “Give me that.”

Satoru effortlessly swung the bear until it was under your chins, his white lashes ethereal as he peeked at you through them. He was close enough that you could feel the warmth of his breath dusting on your cheeks, that same warmth that had been mixing with yours in a sloppy, heated kiss just weeks ago. “And who said I was letting you carry this?” he taunted, thoroughly enjoying how for once, you weren’t hitting him.“I’m supposed to wave this around proudly then place it in our baby’s room when we get home. Besides, your hand looks heavy already.”

“My hands? Wait, what do you mean our baby’s room?”

At your words and questioning gaze, Satoru did a quick turn, trying to use the bear as a shield.

“Yeah, I forgot to tell you,” he scratched the back of his head awkwardly, “I may or may not have had my parents’ guest room renovated as a baby room, although if you ask me, I think moving somewhere else would be much better. Raising a child in a penthouse doesn’t seem like such a great idea if you ask me,” opening your mouth to scold him, Satoru stopped you by placing a finger on your lips, noses grazing against each other. “Don’t scold me right now; I know that look on your face and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, okay? We can still decorate it ourselves. I just had the beds removed and the space cleaned out. Now stop over thinking and let me help you with your problem.”

You pushed his face away for the sake of your heart. In fact, you should be paid for your acting skills for looking so unaffected.

“What problem?”

“Your hands look heavy,” he beamed, long fingers looping through yours as he swayed them side to side. “So let me carry it for you.”

“Satoru, I—”

“Don’t get me wrong,” he blinked innocently while surrendering his free hand, “I’m not doing this for you, it’s for the baby. Did you know oxytocin is released and makes you feel good and reduces pain, maybe even stress? We can pump your oxytocin levels through touch. It also lowers your blood pressure, and we want you at your happiest and healthiest for this pregnancy, right?”

“Since when were you an expert on this?”

“Since I found out I’m becoming a dad,” his words struck you speechless, mouth pressed into a flat line as you stared him openly. You hadn’t mean to come off as rude in that moment; you were just trying to gauge the sincerity behind his words, to explore the depth in his eyes, but Satoru must’ve took it wrong as he cleared his throat, “I can let go if you really want me to.”

“N-no! It’s fine…can we move? We’ve been standing here for ten minutes now,” Embarrassed, you pointed to the closest thing in your sight – a photo booth. “How about there? That looks fun.”

Satoru followed where your arm was pointed, laughing when a couple exited the red curtains while giggling amongst themselves. The guy even leaned down to steal a long kiss from his lover, and if you were embarrassed before, you wanted to crawl into a hole and never come back again right now. “You know, if you wanted me to be stuck in a cramped space next to you, you could’ve just said so. I didn’t bring the limo with me, but the Audi could be pretty small for us, I guess…”

You hissed at him in warning, “God, you never shut up do you?”

“It made you smile.”

“I wasn’t smiling!”

“Sure, mommy, whatever you say,” bumping his hip with yours, Satoru led you inside the cube. There were a plethora of filters to choose from; ranging from heart frames and ones that placed shades on your face. Not really thinking of what to pick, you reached out to press the frog hats one, but Satoru was swatting your hands away for the effect with heart emojis everywhere. “This is cute. We can show this to our baby once they’re born.”

“They won’t really know what a Polaroid is, Satoru.”

“It’s still sentimental!” he grumbled before clicking the camera icon, a huge smile already on his face until he saw you squished on the other side of the booth. Only one side of your ear could be seen, and Satoru furrowed his brows at you. “Come closer, you’ll be cropped from the frame.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Jesus, Y/N, don’t act shy now, I already fucked a baby into you,” mouth falling open at the vulgarity of his words, Satoru took the chance to drag you beside him. “Relax, you’re always so stiff. Our baby might come out frowning if you keep huffing like that.”

“You’re too close for comfort.”

“My apologies, I’ll try not to be included in the photo when you’re the one who suggested this in the first place,” he muttered playfully, booping your nose before he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. He was close, too close, that his musky perfume filled the close space. You wanted to lean closer to his warmth and sturdiness of his broad shoulders; his mere presence bringing about a sense of tranquillity despite your words. You told yourself it shouldn’t be too bad to lean into him for just a little while, absentmindedly following him as he cheers, “Smile!”

One photo turned into two, and Satoru ended up inserting a few more bills into the slot to take more. He tried out as many filters as he wanted, acting as if you two had been long time friends from how easy it was for him to be around you like that.

You supposed it came from his heavy experience with women. You were so unlike; while he was open to touch and didn’t care too much about space, you craved it deliriously.

It was obvious none of this meant anything to Satoru. You were probably just another woman in his life, with the exception that you had a kid, but you couldn’t mean something more. If anything, he treated you more like an old friend than a lover. He’d said it himself before that you weren’t his type and you didn’t mind, so why did it hurt the longer you mulled about it? Sure, you may not be as attractive or luxurious as his previous lovers, but did you really not even have charismatic pull? Is it because you weren’t his type that he was so casual with you, while you on the other hand, felt like you would lose your mind at every little thing he did?

You watched as Satoru pulled out his wallet and kept the Polaroid of you both grinning at the camera, forming a silly heart shape with your hands per his request. It was silly and platonic – yet the gesture confused you to no end.

“Why’d you do that?”

Satoru’s hand paused. “Am I not allowed to…?”

“We’re not lovers. You can’t just put a photo of us in your wallet.”

As if to prove a point, Satoru pulled out more photos of his wallet and showed it to you. There were several more wallet-sized photos, mostly of his white cat with black shades, another of him and his best friend, Shoko, and the last photo was of him skiing. They were all placed in his wallet along with a small, faded out photograph of what seemed to be his parents from the younger days. You couldn’t understand why he was showing you this, much less how patient he was as he smiled softly at you. “It’s memorabilia. I keep photos of everyone I care about everywhere with me,” he said, pocketing his wallet back before gazing up at the night sky. “I like to think we’re friends, at least. We’re definitely not just boss and employee anymore.”

Then what are we?

There were so many things you wanted to ask. You always knew he was always this overly friendly and nice, but what did make you? What did a friend mean to him? Other than Shoko, who was his lesbian friend who was also the company’s resident doctor, you’d never seen him be platonic with another female before.

The realization made your mood drop.

Maybe you were right. He probably didn’t even see you as a woman, but what did it matter? You didn’t like him. You shouldn’tlike him. Even if he had no intentions of wooing you, Gojo Satoru was far too appealing for his own good. Being around him was dangerous for your heart.

“Wanna ride the ferris wheel? The night city always looks beautiful.”

He was just your boss...and you were just a friend. Things were going to be alright as long as no feelings were involved. You survived seven years of working with him with not a single moment where your heart fluttered when he spoke your name; a baby made between you shouldn’t change anything now. At the end of the day, you were both only doing this out of responsibility. Satoru was trying his best to become a supportive co-parent to you, and that was all it ever would be. Strictly business – purely professional – as it always had been and always will be.

Foolish girl, you could hear a voice whisper at the back of your head, don’t get too lost in his eyes.

“Y/N, are you tired? Do you want to go home now? We can just order dinner to be delivered if you’re exhausted,” Satoru tugged at your sleeve to get your attention, and you chuckled awkwardly, not meaning to have spaced out the whole time. Worry was written all over his face from the way his brows dipped, stunning blue eyes darkening like the night sky you both made memories under.

Don’t look at me like that...

“Are you okay? Do you wanna go home?”

“Yeah,” you chirped far too brightly than you would’ve liked. Right now, it was more of a mission of fake it til you make it. You would just have to keep exerting the same amount of effort into making this work for the baby’s sake. And if that meant pushing aside any budding desire for this to last any longer to focus on your ‘friendship’, then you would do it. Taking Satoru’s hand for the first time since the baby ordeal, you flashed him a genuine smile. “The ferris wheel sounds nice. Let’s do some sightseeing before the night ends.”

Neither of you speak inside the cab. Beautiful the night was as the city shone into awakening illumination beneath you, comforting you with the thought that in the grand scheme of it all, you were small. Insignificant. That somehow everything you worried about wouldn’t matter when there was a much bigger world out there, and you were but a fickle dot in the middle of its entirety. But that was you, and Gojo lived in a much different world than you did. For somewhere in the city, you could recognize several of the sky towers, buildings, and establishments owned by his family. He mattered in the grand scheme; you were a small factor in his world.

Glancing back at the man who’d been silent the whole ride, you smiled upon seeing that he was doing the same. Satoru was practically bouncing in his seat as he snapped several photos of the city, mumbling something about he’d never seen this view before.

He was so innocent yet so out there, igniting within you an urge to take care of him and wanting to be taken care of by him.

You’d already accepted that you may just never have him that way. That small, fleeting crush was like a butterfly – pretty look at, but damn near impossible to catch. You’d already stopped crying yourself to sleep over the new changes brought about in your body, that in a few months’ time, you’d look back into everything and see that everything had changed. The mistakes you made that night were still something you regretted because you wished you could’ve done better, but seeing him right in front of you now, there was only gratefulness blooming within. Grateful that he was right by your side, grateful that at least the father of your child was more than capable of giving them a comfortable life, grateful that he didn’t push you away like you expected.

Acting more on impulse than logic, you leaned over to press your lips on his cheek.“Thank you,” you mumbled, eyes closed as you let your lips stay there for a few more seconds.

His skin was warm underneath your touch, and when you opened your eyes, Satoru was gazing up at you with stars twinkling in the vast galaxy he called his eyes. You smiled at his reaction, watching as he reached a palm out to caress that spot your lips had landed.“For what?”

“For everything,” you crumbled,“You’re not a bad person, Satoru, I know that,” with shuddered breaths, tears sprung at the back of your eyes again. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. I just need time to adjust to…well, all of this.” Your voice cracked at the last sentence and you were crying before you knew it, face hidden behind your palms in fear he’d look at you differently. In his eyes, you were always his stoic secretary who didn’t even bat an eye when people gave you backlash after Satoru hired you despite the lack of a college degree.

This all felt new – to cry, to trust, to rely on someone – and there was a flurry of emotions you couldn’t quite place yet.

Scooping you into his arms, Satoru patted your back as your cries grew louder. “Take all the time you need. We don’t have to rush into anything at all.”

In the harsh world of conglomerates where the laws of business blurred thinner and thinner with each day, it was hard to believe that not rushing into anything would be possible. It was always a flurry of hurried phone calls, frantic preparations for emergency meetings, anxiety over presenting new proposals and hoping that your superiors would sign your documents so you could go about your way. Time was as imperative as money was to them, but Satoru had proved he could be beyond that.

From the moment you met him, he never treated time as if it was something that slipped through his fingertips. He enjoyed every second he had of his life, and perhaps that was why you hated him so much in the first place.

You thought he took everything for granted, when in reality, all he did was bask in the little things life offered.

This much, at least, you trusted him with. If he said there would be no need to rush and you could both take it slow, he meant it. Around him, time felt more like a secret whisper than a treasure you both had to seize to protect. The night drifted off until it was already midnight and the crew was ushering all visitors out. You and Satoru made it home safely and quietly, hands linked together as if it was the most natural thing ever. No rush, you kept telling yourself, and you plopped down on the couch heavily as you let your muscles relax from such a long, eventful day.

You stayed there for a solid minute or so when you felt warm hands take your heels off. Opening your eyes, Satoru kneeled before you, his fingers expertly rubbing and pushing against the sore muscles of your feet. “Wh-what are you doing?”

“Your feet must be tired from all that walking,” he mumbled, looking up briefly to meet your eyes and tease your shoulder back. “Lean back for me. I’ll take care of you.”

Judging by the sentiment behind his smile, you figured it wouldn’t be harmful to enjoy this at least once. You’ve never gotten foot massages before but his hands kneading yours felt heavenly. You knew from experience beforehand that Satoru was quite godly when it came to the skills and magic his fingers brought, though this one was on a different level, and you were sinking deeper into the couch from the bliss. He was right; you were tired, and if having your boss massage you like this every night after dragging you wherever he pleased, then you wouldn’t complain.

The ringing of your phone made you sit up abruptly, surprising Satoru whose head you almost knocked into. “Sorry,” you croaked out sheepishly, “It’s my dad. I need to take this.”

“Do you need me to leave you alone?”

“Uh, no, you’re fine.”

Satoru gestured to your foot as you took the call, mouthing, “Should I continue?”

“Yes, please,” you answered back, palm pressed over the mic before you answered. “Hey, Dad!” Your father greeted you back with much enthusiasm, his energy heard even by Satoru who sent you small smiles and curious glances every now and then. A part of you wanted to ask if he was fine kneeling on the floor like that, but his knees were on the fur carpet anyway that it shouldn’t hurt him. He extended your leg and trailed up your calves, pulling a soft moan from you when he kneaded the flesh and rid it of its knots. His ministrations distracted you until you were nodding absentmindedly to your Dad every now and then, not really paying attention to what he was saying.

Then the call ended, and his last words kept ringing back into your head ominously. Satoru took quick notice of this as he tapped your knee, bringing your attention back to him. “Is something wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I...” you started, helplessly fumbling around Satoru. “My dad is in Tokyo. He said he wants to have dinner with me.”

“You don’t look particularly happy about that. Do you not want to meet your father?”

“I do but...”

“But?”

“I have to tell him about this,” you shivered, refracting your legs back to the couch until his touch disappeared from your skin. For a moment, you had the urge to crawl back to his heat, but you were restless, agitated. “About us. He’s going to want to meet you and I don’t want to hide the pregnancy from him either,” Satoru remained unmoving as you rambled, and you hid your face behind your arms again as you remembered the rules you asked him to follow. “Listen, I’m sorry if I sound unfair right now, I know I said I didn’t want anyone else knowing—”

Warm lips brushed over your knuckles, large hands peeling your wrists to reveal your face. “Hey, it’s fine. He’s family and you can tell him. It’s not like your Dad would ruin your image or something like you expected to happen.”

“He won’t but...” you frowned, “My dad isn’t going to like this. I can’t guarantee he’ll be civil the whole time, especially towards you.”

“You told him about me?”

“A few years ago, yeah, when I still couldn’t tolerate you.”

“So you can tolerate me now?”

“Only a little bit,” you corrected, pushing his hands away as you opened your phone to check your schedule. It was mostly Satoru’s schedule, truth be told, but you were free for the most part tomorrow. Satoru could just longue back in his office while you clocked out early to meet your dad. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. On second thought, he doesn’t have to know at all. I’m only a few weeks in and it’s not like he’ll notice—”

“Y/N,” Satoru interrupted you, rudely snatching his phone from your shaking fingers. You would’ve scolded him had he not sounded so worried. “I did promise I would take responsibility for you, right? I want to meet your dad and introduce myself properly. As a father-to-be, I think I can somewhat understand that he might react strongly to this, but I also need to reassure him you’re in safe hands,” taking your hand in his, Satoru leaned into your palm, the smile he wore way too charming than what your heart could handle. “As long as you’re okay with it, I would like to meet him.”

“I’m sorry if he does something stupid.”

“Don’t be,” he reassured with a chuckle. “I’m sure everything will go well.”

It didn’t go well. Your father wasn’t throwing a fit or causing a scene like you originally feared, but the current situation wasn’t any better either. He looked like he was on the verge of tearing Satoru’s head apart, his grip on the bread knife so tight his knuckles flashed white. Your father was the literal definition of unpredictable and out of nervousness, you held Satoru’s hand under the table for comfort.

In complete opposition of yours, Satoru handled it with class and composure. His head was ducked down in respect, making sure to be curt and precise in counters to your father’s harsh accusations.

“I’m really sorry for everything, Sir.”

“Did you ruin my daughter’s life?”

Satoru finally tilted his head back up to look your father in the eye, both your hands turning cold and sweaty in between the seats. “Pardon?”

“I asked if you ruined my daughter’s life by getting her pregnant.”

“I would never intend for that to happen, Sir,” Satoru straightened up. From your perspective, he looked every bit the man parents would want their children to be with – handsome, elegant, educated, polite, respectful and well-off – but your father was no ordinary parent. He sized Satoru up like a predator hunting his prey even as the latter acted cool about it. “Granted, it was an accident and neither of us are prepared for this, but I promise I’ll take care of her. I take responsibility as the father and you have nothing to worry about.”

Your dad slammed his palms down on the table, the loud smack catching the attention of nearby tables. “How dare you tell me I have nothing to worry about?”

“Dad, please don’t do this.”

“No, he needs to know,” he snapped. Unable to help it, you groaned inwardly and scooted closer to Satoru, knowing where this was leading. “I lost her mother right after she was born; raised her by myself when I was barely out from high school. Rich men like you may never understand the struggles of taking care of a baby all by yourself, but I did everything I could to make sure she grew up well. My daughter had a happy, comfortable life. When she told me she wanted to follow her dreams in Tokyo, I supported her, and then you go take everything away from her because you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself? You dare defile her like that?”

“Dad!” you roared, clutching Satoru’s hand who’d gone limp. “It was equally my responsibility as it is his! I wanted this; we both got carried away but we’re doing our best, so please stop being difficult to us.”

“You wanted this?” he laughed dryly, “A child with this man you kept moaning to me about; the same man who went to clubs every night while he left you all by yourself to work, to clean up his mess from him? You wanted him?”

“Dad,” you gritted your teeth, nails sinking down onto your thigh. Satoru remained silent between you both, although you could feel his burning gaze penetrating through the back of your skull. “It’s both our mistake. But this child...we don’t see it as that. We like to view it as a blessing. It may be true we harbour no affection for one another, but we want to be good parents. That’s all you need to know and I find no reason to explain myself to you. If you have nothing else to say, you can go back home. I’ll pay for your ride,” slamming down a few bills his way, you glared at your father, who shrunk back at the anger radiating off of you. “You’re not welcome here, Dad. Just go back home.”

“I’m just worried for you.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not a little kid anymore.”

“I never said you were,” he sighed, rubbing the sides of his temples. “But he just took all your opportunities away from you! What about your dreams? What about your plan of having your own career once you have enough experience? What about—”

“Are you implying that because I’m pregnant, suddenly I’m not qualified to fulfil my goals?”

“Sir,” Satoru cut you off, releasing your hands as he leaned forwards on the table, becoming more and more like the CEO he was trained to be – all authority and gentle command that won the hearts of multiple investors. “I assure you that I won’t be holding your daughter back from the things she wants to achieve. As her co-parent, I’m perfectly capable of supporting her in the dreams she wishes to achieve. I’ve worked with her for years; I know she can reach for the stars if she wanted.”

Your mind blanked.

“Young man, don’t talk to me as if you know my daughter better than I do,” your father scorned, “I’m not questioning your capability to support her, but what about your credibility? How can you assure me you’ll really be there for her? How can you assure me you won’t leave my daughter stranded in the middle of nowhere? How can you assure me you can protect her from the harsh criticism of society? Money can’t provide nor does it solve anything,” your father copied his gesture by leaning forward, but it was to poke Satoru’s chest. “From what I’ve heard about you, I suppose you understand perfectly well why I don’t trust you.”

“Sir, I do plan on marrying your daughter and to give her the life she deserves,” Satoru confessed, effectively stealing from you the ability to speak as he glimpsed your way. “If she lets me.”

“You’ll marry her? Be faithful to her as your wife and have a family? Are you sure you can do that?”

“Yes, Sir, I’m highly confident I can. I’ll make sure of it.”

“Then that’s all I need to know,” your father leaned back in your seat, arms crossed against his chest and a stern expression on his face. “And if I find out you hurt or make my daughter cry in any way, I’ll beat up that pretty face of yours. I have two more sons that’re willing to do the same, if you don’t watch your actions.”

Satoru beamed at your father’s ‘approval.’ “I’ll face any consequence if I fall short on my duties, Sir, but I assure you, it will never have come to that.”

“So we’ve come to an agreement?”

The two men linked and shook hands across the table, completely disregarding the fact you were right beside him. You were beyond appalled, but mostly hurt that you’d been reduced to this way. And they were unaware of it, too, sickening and satisfied yet tense smiles were masked on their faces as they decided your future.

You stood up and left the restaurant.

You kept walking as fast as you could in the cold night, hands shoved into the coat of your pockets. Thousands of pin needles pricked at your heart and your skin the more you replayed the memory in your head. How stupid were you to think that Satoru would be different? And marriage? Was he serious? It all made you sick to the core to the point you wanted to throw up and disappear, until a heavy set of footsteps echoed behind you and tugged your wrist.

“Y/N, wait!” Satoru panted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “What’s wrong with you? You just up and left—”

“Seriously, Satoru, you’re asking me that?” your face fell flat at his cluelessness, “What’s wrong with you? You men are sickening; planning my entire future like that right in front of me as if I don’t have a say in what I want. None of you asked if I’m okay with this. You really went ahead deciding we’ll get married when I told you already, I don’t want to marry you and I never will!”

Satoru brushed a hand over his hair, a hand on his hip. You could tell his patience was being tested – after being verbally harassed by your father and now with you pushing back in the same heat, it was only a matter of time before he lost his cool. Surprisingly enough, however, his voice remained levelled as he sighed. “What did you expect me to do back there? Tell your father that we’re just going to be roommates and raise a child together as if we’re not already family?” he defended, words slow and pronounced with a hint of hurt behind them. “I respect you and I truly do want to be with you, that’s why I wanted us to get married.”

“You respect me?” you laughed incredulously, “Are you hearing yourself right now? No person respects another by deciding what happens to my life without my consent!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask, okay? I apologize for it and I acknowledge my mistake that I didn’t give you much of a choice. Me being cornered and pressured isn’t a good excuse, but I wasn’t lying when I said I want to take care of you and—”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“Why do you want to be with me?” you demanded, “Why do you want to take care of me so badly? How did you even take this so well? You weren’t even that angry when I told you I was pregnant.”

Satoru paled. “Was I supposed to be? Should I have pushed you away and kicked you out my life? Is that what you wanted me to do, or is that what you expected from me, considering you’ve made it extremely clear I’m nothing but your airheaded boss and a man who always wants his dick wet, right?” the sting of his words pricked you both – you with your guilt, and him with his pride crushed. But he didn’t let on, didn’t waver and didn’t match your anger as his chest shook with impatience. “I’m trying to be good to you; I want to be good for you and the baby because despite what you think of me, I’m not the devil the tabloids make me out to be. I sleep around, yeah, but I wouldn’t go so far to turn someone away especially when I know I’m supposed to be there.”

“Satoru, if you’re only doing this out of obligation, you can be a good father without marrying me. Marriage is not a requirement; I don’t care what people say that I got pregnant without getting married. That’s the least of my concern, I just want the baby to grow up healthy but I don’t want to be involved with you.”

With how stunned Satoru looked, one would’ve thought you slapped him right in the face. That mere sight of seeing your boss tear his walls down in front of you almost made you feel bad, but you had to be strong.

You had to be firm with what you stood for.

“I really don’t want to be with you, Satoru. I’m so sorry.”

“What do you want me to do?” his voice cracked, begging and pleading as he stood before you, looking every bit of a man lost in uncharted territory. “I don’t know what you want me to do, Y/N. One moment, you’re telling me you want me to be a good father, and then the next you’re pushing me away. People are so sure that I’m a man who can never settle down because they believe I have commitment issues, but I’m telling you I can commit to you right now,” he held your hand, rubbing some of his warmth at your comparably cold ones. You didn’t fail to notice that he was trembling, but what about what you couldn’t decipher. “Are you really sure I’m the one here who isn’t capable of that? What are you so scared of that you can’t trust me?”

“Because you’re you! Because you’re a fucking asshole who’s been treating me like I’m an overworking machine and always expects me to undo your shit for you! Because you make me sick and I don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t know what love means!” Exploded. You exploded. “I regret everything that happened between us that night. No, in fact, I regret ever meeting you at all.”

Satoru took a step back.

All the light and joy that fit so perfectly with him had now disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” he demurred, “I’m sorry that I’d been so repulsive that you’ve felt miserable for all this time. I’m sorry I haven’t been a decent boss and I’m sorry I’m not good enough for you.”

“Gojo, stop. Stop doing that; stop apologizing!”

“Then tell me what you want me to do,” he barked desperately. “Because I can’t read your mind and I just want to be good for you.”

“What if I don’t want you to? I don’t want you to be good to me, I don’t want you to care about me. Be there for the baby, but don’t involve yourself too much in my personal life. Stop asking me to marry you because you and I would never work out. We’re impossible, okay?”

“How do you know we’ll never work out when we haven’t even tried?” he pushed, “You never even gave me a chance.”

“You’re not worth that chance.”

If someone could receive an award for effortlessly trampling over someone repeatedly, you would’ve been crowned winner a long time ago. You had no idea what came over you as you spat all those hurtful words to Satoru, but did your words bear no truth? The fact that he no longer defended himself meant he also knew that he wasn’t worth it – that he wasn’t someone to be trusted. It wasn’t that you were completely unfair too; of course you considered it. Weeks of living under the same roof as him and you most definitely considered it. Say you did get married and became a real family – what then? It wasn’t a marriage out of love, but rather out of responsibility and obligation.

As much as you loved your child, you couldn’t imagine throwing away your future and living miserable for the rest of your life like that.

A life built on lies wasn’t a life worth living.

“I would never hurt you.”

Your heart cracked. After everything you said, after all your efforts to keep him away from your own safety, after all the hurtful things you’ve done to him, and he was still apologizing? Why did he have to make it so hard to let go? You were tired, so tired that you could no longer refrain your lip from quivering as tears caked your face.

“Gojo, please, don’t—”

“So if me stepping away from your life is what would really make you happy, then I’ll respect it. But there’s one thing I have to ask,” Satoru swiped a thumb under your eye to catch the tear. His smile was forlorn, his touch cold and words melancholic. “Do you want the baby? Do you...want to keep the baby and be a mother? You don’t have to do anything for me, I just want to know if the mother of my child even wants to be one. And please be honest, because everything you say right now are words that I’ll mark seriously.”

The word left your mouth before you could stop it.

“No.”

“No what?”

“I don’t want to be a mother,” you admitted, hands trailing over your belly. It felt like you were betraying your own child, but you hadn’t planned this. “I’m too young, Satoru, I-I’m not ready for this. With you there beside me or not, I really don’t want this.”

“Then,” he cleared his throat, turning his head to the side to catch a moment. You swore you saw his eyes shine under the city lights with tears, but it was gone so soon that you might’ve just fooled yourself with it. Once he deemed himself ready to talk, Satoru took a deep breath. “Do I have your consent that once the baby is born...it’ll be under my care? Would you prefer to reach your own dreams, then? You’ll never have to be a part of the Gojo family if it’s really not what you want, even though I could support you as much as you need me to.”

Your eyes widened at his proposition. “You’ll take care of our baby?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Can I...can I visit them, at least, once in a while?” It was more than just your heart that broke that night. There was no telling whether you’d hurt yourself in the long run with this decision. It was no easy choice to make – to actively pursue your dreams somewhere else more than being a mother. You wanted to do your best, of course you did, but it wasn’t that easy. Gojo didn’t have to tell you for you to understand that once you married him, you’d be expected to run the business with him and be involved in his family and their dramas. Now that wasn’t a life you wanted.

“You’re free to visit them whenever,” he promised, voice fading even lower into the background. “So is this it? We’ll just be living under the same roof until the baby is born and once they’re here...”

“We’ll part ways.”

“We’ll part ways,” he nodded in agreement, sniffling for a brief second before fixing his tie. The Gojo Satoru you got to know for a few weeks had now disappeared. Not even the goofy boss you spent seven years with could be found in the coldness of his eyes, almost as if he’d put up such impenetrable walls around him and nothing could pass through. The sudden shift in aura made your heart clench as he offered his hand to shake. “Okay. Let’s stay professional until then?”

“Yeah, Sir, I can do that,” your hands shook as you enclosed it around his, but now all the warmth had disappeared – from his eyes, his touch, his soul. It hurt, but this was necessary. It was what felt right. “Thank you – for everything.”

“You’re welcome. Anything for you and the baby,” Satoru proclaimed, perplexing you both when he suddenly pulled you in his arms. Just like that, the dam broke, and you were staining his precious suit before you could stop it. His arms rubbed up and down your back the longer he held you there, almost like a final moment to lean on one another before you had to say goodbye eventually. Beneath your palm, his heart beat exuberantly loud, so much so that you might’ve heard the prayers it whispered. “Stop crying now. The baby might feel sad too. We’ll both be alright – we just have to get through this.”

taglist OPEN: @sixeyesgojo @bongofrito @7tsumurai @aphnyoturkey​ @stuckindreamland06​ @dogsarenyspiritanimal​ @thebeardedmoon​ @lildreamer93​ @pizzaspirits​ @q-the-rockaholic​ @rogueofbullshit​ @ladywaifuuwrites​ @flochsgirl​ @hamsa-mage @sonic-and-songs​ @vsvwi @misslovingpearl | bolded users can’t be tagged 

[grey-water-colors]

Our Word

Eddie Munson X afab! Reader

Feeling angsty and I'm obsessed with Eddie. This is a song fic, kinda dipping my toes in the water for writing for him. This is based on Our Word by Jessie Shelton. I have manipulated these lyrics to mean what I want them to. I will most very likely write a second part to this.

Link to the song: https://youtu.be/JUoX5EAxF34

Summary: A new life, with a new name, comes with heavy burdens of lies and secrets, but the truth always comes forward.

Pairing: Eddie Munson X afab! Reader

Warnings: Suicide mention. Almost dying. ANGST. Mentions of cheating. Mentions of death.

Word Count: 1,777

Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had prided myself on keeping secrets, big ones, and little ones. I never told a soul. Everyone has secrets too, even me. The town of Hawkins doesn’t need to know my secrets though, so like all other secrets, I keep it close to my chest.

Secrets can eat at you though, like a lie. I’ve told my share of lies too, but I learned how to very early in life.

When I was a little girl Like really little, like 8 or so I was playing in my father's study A place in the house I wasn't supposed to go My father fancied himself a sailor His study was filled with nautical decor He kept a boat in a bottle on the top of a shelf And it shattered on the ground when I slammed the door

My father was a man of few words, but all about image. Now that I know what I know, my mother was also very obsessed with image. Never a hair out of place, or an emotion to show. As a child though, my father was mean and neglectful, and my mother was the one who listened. This was the beginning of my lies and my secrets. I told my mother everything I told her I was so, so sorry She told me, "don't cry When he comes home tonight We can make everything okay This is all we have to say "We don't remember a boat in a bottle It must've fallen off its shelf alone We know you loved it, we're so sad it's broken But neither one of us was even home" And it's our word Yes, our word Against his

My life in Hawkins was peaceful. I showed up one day, a rouge 18-year-old with nothing to tell of a life before. Very small, which suited my needs. I was content not talking to anyone, but that proved to be nigh impossible.

The funny thing about no-one knowing who you are, is I could be anyone. I could be who I always wanted and hoped to be.

New apartment.

New wardrobe.

New name.

New life.

But the past can haunt you. So I hid screw-ups from my father Made up school awards to please my mom Whatever made the steak taste better Whatever kept the waters calm I was told to keep their secrets And in turn they'd keep mine As I got older, I got dumber I couldn't help but cross the line

I was sure that Hawkins would never find out my past. My new friends didn’t ask. A job at a cheap movie theater and renting movies for half-price from my friends.

And weed from the person who held my life together. Eddie was quite possibly the best thing that has ever happened to me. Patient and kind, and someone I could spend all day looking at. Best friends with benefits and hoping for more. I was a lost puppy following him around when we first met. The high from weed is nice, but the giddy high I get from being around him is by far more addicting.

I know he’s curious, dying actually, to know my secrets. Which is why I’m stuck pining after him instead of dating him. Lies of omission are still lies and partners don’t keep secrets.

If only he knew… Three times I nearly wrecked my life Three times I nearly came to ruin Three times went crying to my parents Who said they'd make it go away Yes, this is all we had to say

I was sure that I was done with them, that I could just live under their roof until I graduated, but things got messy during a rouge vacation. A broken heart and broken truths. No one got the whole truth that day, not even my parents. Still, they pulled through for me, a secret keeper in my own right.

I swore I would never love someone again, it only lead to more secrets and lies. "We never rented a house in Sedona We didn't see Camille the day she died We haven't been on our boat in some years now So we don't care what you found inside" And it's our word Yes, our word It's our word Yes, our word Against theirs

I loved that boy, even after he cheated. Drugs will make you do things that bring out the dark in you. Camille was so innocent, and due to my incompetence, dead. I didn’t kill her, not physically. She also loved him and her seeing me, well, it broke her. She jumped and I was so out of it that I couldn’t do anything. Somebody was paid to make it go away Everyone was paid to make the problems go away Doesn't matter who gets screwed, or who is blamed Or what you need to do to clear your name An inconvenient truth can be easily erased

I made a plan then. A lie so big, so thorough, that my parents must play along. Save face. I graduated. I moved out to a place and lost myself for a bit.

I say it was to spite my parents. I want to believe that so badly, but in the end, the truth always surfaces.

She didn’t deserve to die. I was there. I could have saved her.

And while my name is no longer associated with her, or the accident, it haunts me more than the secrets. More than the lies.

I was running from my guilt, but I was never fast, so it caught me pretty quickly. When I was 18 I was living in New York I developed some fun habits Put my white blood cells to work I remember it so clearly I was home alone on a Tuesday night To level out, I'd popped some downers But couldn't seem to get my mind right I drew a bath and slipped into it And suddenly became aware I couldn't keep my head above water I took a final gasp of air I remember it so clearly. It wakes me up sometimes, that feeling that I’m drowning again. I startle awake in Eddie’s arms, waking him in the process. Even then, when faced with my mortality, I still can’t tell him, a life before, hidden away. Kept close to my heart that beats for him. I usually leave after that, and he never questions it.

I love him, so purely and genuinely. What I’d give to be his, and for him to be mine.

I love the names he had for me. When he’d call me darling, or sweet thing, or any other number of things he calls me. I love it because, if even only for a second, I’m genuine, going by a name that isn’t made up.

I love when he holds me when we’re watching a movie in his trailer. His arm over my shoulder, me tucked perfectly into his side.

I love when he listens to my favorite music even though they aren’t his style in the slightest. How he turns the volume up to scream it while he’s driving, one ringed hand on my knee.

And as I laid there helplessly A million different thoughts came to me

I’m not sure how it occurred to me, but after I resigned my will to life, I thought that somewhere out there I’m depriving someone of a love they were meant to have. That maybe, just maybe, there is someone out there who could love me. Who I didn’t have to keep secrets from or tell lies to. Someone who wouldn’t lie to me. Honesty and trust. That maybe if I couldn’t live with myself, then I could live as someone who I liked enough. Someone who someone loves and then maybe I could love myself.

Now I live a comfortable life. Work at the theater, friends on Monday, DnD spectating on Wednesday, and movies with Eddie on Fridays. The weekend spent however I like.

Tonight though, wrapped in his arms, all I can think about is the lies I've told, and the secret I keep.

I saw my parents hearing the news

"Your only daughter drowned today" I thought about what they might say

I wish I could’ve seen them when my lie had reached them. I wonder sometimes if they mourned, or if they had even cared. I bet on the second, they were probably expecting it.

I thought about what they would do, how the millionaire parents would react to their only child dying. Would it go public? Or would the story die without ever seeing the light of day?

I’d like to say I was ready. Prepared for the possibility that they would play on this. There’s a lot of things I’d like to say.

Like I wasn’t prepared.

Wasn’t prepared to walk into a room with my friends and love reading a newspaper.

Wasn’t prepared to see my picture.

Wasn’t prepared to hear the lie of a lifetime.

Or for my truth to come forward. "Our daughter, Judith? No, she moved to Austin She's very happy there, or so we hear She's always been so goddamned independent The years go by and now we barely see her" "Our daughter, Judith? You must be mistaken You mean the girl we raised as if our own? We loved her so much she felt like our child But eventually we had to send her home"

It's hard to explain to people that knew you as Y/N, was in fact legally born and raised with the name Judith. You weren’t Judith anymore though, you were Y/N. A girl who had a secret past, but didn’t lie.

It’s hard to explain how you ended up in small town Hawkins. It’s hard to explain anything while no one trusts what you say.

It’s even harder to watch the person you love most in the world look so betrayed and hurt, and then walk out on you.

It'd be their word Only their word

In the end you suppose, your parents had made sure that if you were still alive, that you would be known for the liar you were. No amount of money could hide this blunder, and no amount of money could fix how you felt.

Eddie wouldn’t talk to you or look at you for that matter. Your world had fallen apart, from a stupid mistake. A secret and a lie. How foolish to hope he would never find out. How foolish to hope for more.

How foolish to wish for anything anymore.

It'd be their word Only their word On its own

The truth always comes forward

[marvelouspeterparker]

pretty special

PAIRING: pornstar!sebastian stan x pornstar!reader

SUMMARY: you shoot your first scene with the acclaimed and widely admired adult film star, sebastian stan.

WARNINGS: cliché porn scenario (dad's friend) + daddy kink + age gap + dirty talk + oral (m and f rec.) + unprotected sex + creampie

WORD COUNT: 4.3k

NOTES: this was part of this fic for tom but i extracted it in case some sebastian fans that don't read for tom wanted to read it, since i'm going to be writing for him now :)

––✧––

You were a bit nervous walking into work––working with one of the biggest stars was understandably a daunting experience. You didn’t want to seem like a complete amateur next to him, especially not when you were working with him. And on top of that, you’d been watching his videos for years now, since you were a teenager, and he never once lost his charm or his spark.

You could see how he’d evolved throughout all of his videos––when he was just a young fresh face that captured the hearts of many, to his long-haired phase, to his short hair and stubble phase, each and everyone one was just as enchanting and seductive.

You’d seen the way he managed to have chemistry with every actress he worked with––how they would all fall under his allurement, get flustered from just one look. If you were being honest, you could see Tom becoming the next actor of that status––he’d already had such a good reputation among the industry and the viewers seemed to love him as well. So the fact that you were going to get the opportunity to be with both of them? Well not at the same time, but if you did, you would most certainly melt on the spot. But even separately––You felt like you were going to combust.

Sebastian was now in his late thirties, but he looked better than ever, his eyes just as smoldering, even through a screen. He kept his hair short now and often let his beard grow out, which you personally loved. Since he had a very promising reputation––and everyone that he’s worked with has only had enticing things to say about him and his skills, you couldn’t say that you weren’t excited and honored to work with him.

The scene you were filming today took place in multiple places, all of which were in a home––so for work today you showed up to one of the many unfinished houses the agency used for filming. Within no time you were dressed and in the makeshift makeup room in one of the spare bedrooms with Olive, the makeup artist, putting the finishing touches on your face. Your look was supposed to be more natural today so it didn’t take too long since you only needed some light coverage.

“You nervous sweetie?” She asked, dabbing the beauty blender under your eyes.

You looked up at her, a sheepish smile on your face. “Of course I am, it’s Sebastian Stan.”

She waved you off, “Oh don’t be. He’s the sweetest thing, really.” She placed the beauty blender on the vanity. “You know a little birdie told me that he asked for you personally.”

Your eyes widened in shock. “What? Are you serious?”

She nodded, pursing her lips. “And he doesn’t do that for just anyone, so he must think you’re pretty special.” She started cleaning up her station. “That should put you at ease, right?”

“I mean…” You looked into the mirror and trailed off when you noticed a familiar face walk into the room. You’d never seen him in person until now, so far only watching him on the screen of your phone in the privacy of your room––but seeing him in front of you was something else.

Olive noticed you trail off and turned curiously before her eyes settled on the man walking towards her. He walked over to your makeup artist, a big smile on his face as he opened his arms. “Olive! How are you?”

She smiled, hugging him back. “I’m good honey, how are you?”

He bit his lip, failing to tame his grin when they both pulled away. “I’m good.” He turned to you, “Especially since I’m going to be filming with this one today.” You got up to walk over to him and he smiled, placing a hand on your waist and kissing your cheek in greeting. He looked down at you and you could genuinely feel yourself drowning in his eyes. How were you going to manage looking into them while he was literally inside of you?

“Hi doll, how are you? It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Hi.” You cleared your throat when your voice came out weaker than expected but before you could continue, Olive interrupted you.

“She’s a little nervous, Seb.” You looked over to her like an annoyed daughter, berating her with your eyes as she walked away from you both, a glint in her eyes, but Sebastian’s eyes never left your face. You looked back to him to find a smirk on his face and you smiled awkwardly.

“There’s nothing to be nervous about honey,” he brought a hand under your chin and tilted your head up when you looked away. “I promise I don’t bite,” he leaned in to whisper in your ear. “That is, unless you want me to.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine and he chuckled as he pulled away to look at you. “Seems like you want me to, hm?”

You licked your lips subconsciously and he smiled, taking your hand in his. “Well you know, I asked for you personally?”

You blinked up at him, “Yeah I heard.”

He smiled, rolling his eyes as he pointed his thumb behind him at Olive’s retreating figure. “From that one I bet.” You smiled and nodded and he shook his head pretending to be exasperated, but the smile on his face contradicted that.

“Why did you? Ask for me?” You asked sheepishly, not wanting to come off as rude. But it was a little strange to have such a big star ask for you when you’re not even that established of an actor yet.

His thumb rubbed the back of your hand soothingly but the action was only sending tingles down your body. “Well I’ve seen your work,” he tilted his head. “And I know talent when I see it.” He stepped closer to you so that his breath was teasing your lips ever so slightly, his eyes piercing yours. “I also know a good girl when I see one.”

Your breath hitched, your thighs pressed together and he squeezed your hand playfully. “We’re gonna have some fun today.” He started to tug you along. “Let’s go, okay?”

You nodded, the nerves in your stomach quickly turning to excitement and lust. “Okay.”

–––

You weren’t going to take pictures before the scene today––Sebastian, having been in the industry for some time now, and having made a name for himself, was able to pull some strings nowadays and have more control over what he wanted. He didn’t really like the idea of faking for the camera, so much so that he didn’t take photos before the scenes he shot, he convinced the crew to take action shots while they were filming, so the reactions were real.

The directors knew not to rush him or the actresses he worked with during his scenes, and for that reason, no one that ever worked with him had to hurry up and fake their climaxes for the camera––they were all completely genuine and just as mind-shattering as they appeared on screen.

The scene you were filming today was different than anyone you’d done before. You were playing a young daughter who’s come home from college for the summer, and Sebastian was playing your “father”’s friend. It was a slightly controversial theme and story, but at the end of the day it wasn’t real so.

After greeting everyone, going over a few last minute things, and getting settled, the scene began.

Your “dad” and Sebastian were in the living room, talking while they watched tv for a few minutes, and you waited for your cue to step out. You came down the stairs and the camera followed you as you descended and panned out to show the three of you as you walked past them to go to the kitchen. You could feel Sebastian’s gaze trailing down your body as scripted, the camera focusing on him as he checked you out, your body also in focus as you moved by the lens.

“Excuse me young lady,” your fake father recited his line and you turned back a sweet smile on your face as you looked at him.

“Yes daddy?”

“Don’t be rude,” he chastised, “Say hello to our guest. My buddy from work, you’ve met him a few times over the past couple years, remember?”

You let your eyes fall to Sebastian and your smile widened. “Oh, right!” You walked over to him. “I’m so sorry. So nice to see you again!” You bent down and watched him take a sharp inhale as his gaze fell to your breasts before you wrapped your arms around him in a hug.

He brought his arms around you and squeezed tight, his hands lingering when you pulled away, his voice low. “Yeah it’s really nice to see you too.” He licked his lips before looking back up into your eyes and you felt your stomach flutter from the look in them. “You’ve really grown up since I last saw you.”

You shrugged as well, turning to see your “dad” not paying attention to your conversation before leaning in to whisper in Sebastian’s ear. “Way more than you know.” He bit his lip and you giggled before walking off, feeling his eyes stuck to your ass that was peeking out of your shorts.

You went to the kitchen to get a snack, conveniently walking so that the camera didn’t pick up the unfinished portion of the house, nearby. You followed the script, pretending to look around, a thoughtful look on your face as you picked up random fruits while Sebastian stared at you from the other room. After a minute or two, you turned around and went into the fridge, scanning the almost empty shelves before bending down to look near the bottom.

You felt a pair of hands slide over your ass to hold your waist and a rather impressive bulge press into your backside. “Pardon me.” You could hear the smirk in his gravelly voice as he reached over you, your body still bent over and pressed into his front. He grabbed a bottle from the top shelf before pulling away and leaning against the counter next to the fridge. You looked to the side to see him opening a bottle of water, a cheeky smile on his face as he shamelessly checked you out. “Just getting water.” He sipped from it without looking away from you and you bit your lip.

“Of course.” You closed the fridge and walked up to him as he was tilting the bottle down from his lips. You reached over behind him on the counter, while subtly grabbing his bulge in his jeans. He gasped and looked down at your hand, then across to the other room to make sure your “father” wasn’t watching before turning his head to you.

You bat your eyelashes up at him, teasingly innocent and brought your hand back to show the banana you’d just gotten. “And I was just getting a snack.” You squeezed him harder and pulled away completely, leaning on the kitchen island across from him as you peeled the fruit. His eyes were mesmerized as he watched you lick along the banana, your gaze unwavering. You slowly put the fruit into your mouth as far as you could go and his jaw dropped as you started bobbing your head up and down.

Just as it stated in the script, ever so distracted and preoccupied, his hand “accidentally” squeezed the water bottle and water splashed everywhere and all over the floor. He cursed loudly and your “dad” perked up.

“Everything alright?”

Sebastian looked up, convincingly looking flustered and you turned. “Yeah! We just spilled some water, but it’s okay I’ll clean it up!”

“Okay. Thank you sweetheart.”

You turned back around and grabbed some napkins, getting down on your knees in front of Sebastian and his eyes followed you all the way down. You half heartedly wiped down the tiles before looking up at him. Your eyes trailed down his body and you smirked, grabbing his hand. “Your hand is all wet. Let me get that for you.” Before he could say anything, you swiped your tongue along his fingers. You kept your eyes on his as your tongue made its way around his hand. You slipped two of his fingers into your mouth and he paused before slowly sliding them in and out, almost making you gag and you smiled up at him as you pulled off.

Your hands slid up his legs, one of them grazing his bulge as you made your way up to his zipper but his hand stopped you from going any further. He clenched his jaw, looking ahead before looking back down at you. “Your dad––”

You shook your head eagerly, “He won’t see anything.” The kitchen island was conveniently tall enough to hide you, so you weren’t lying. “You just have to be quiet.” You blinked up at him. “Can you do that?”

He bit his lip. “Shit––” He brought a hand up to rub the back of his head and let go of the hand of yours that he was holding. “O––Okay.” His hand came down to caress your cheek gently and you quickly turned your head to kiss his palm before reaching up and slowly unzipping his jeans. You pulled his pants and briefs down a bit before pulling his cock out and stroking it lightly but he quickly captured your attention again before you could gawk at his size, his hand firmly grabbing your jaw to make you look up at him. “Keep your eyes on me baby girl, got it?” You nodded immediately.

“Yes, got it.”

His grip tightened. “Yes who?”

You tilted your head, pretending to be confused. “Yes… daddy?”

He smiled, cooing down at you. “Such a good girl.” He briefly glanced up to the living room before looking back at you. “Now spit on daddy’s cock. Get it nice and wet for me.”

You nodded, “Yes daddy.” You gathered the drool in your mouth before spitting on his cock and stroking it. You licked along the base before wrapping your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue around it and sucking hard, making him grip the counter behind your head.

He cursed, “That mouth is fucking amazing, doll.”

You smiled as best you could around him, knowing that that line wasn’t in the script––you were just doing a good job and he felt the need to let you know. You felt yourself get wetter in your shorts and luckily enough, your next instruction was to bring a hand down to touch yourself in the scene. Your hand slipped past your cotton shorts and you brought your fingers down to swipe through your wetness and spread it along your slit before rubbing your clit. You hummed around Sebastian’s length and he pulled you into him, a hand around the back of your neck as he shallowly thrust into your mouth, not wanting to hurt you or make you gag too hard.

“God, are you touching yourself baby girl?” You looked up at him, pretending to be embarrassed and he chuckled breathlessly. “Such a filthy little slut aren’t you? Touching yourself, sucking my big cock and calling me daddy while your real father is sitting just in the other room…” He tutted playfully. “What a naughty fucking girl you are.” You whined and his mouth dropped open as you started sucking harder.

“Gonna make me cum. Keep doing that. Yes, just like that.”

Your “father” spoke up, asking Sebastian if he was coming back and Sebastian gulped, looking up at him with wide eyes as you stroked him quickly, your mouth sucking his tip loudly and harshly. He coughed in a useless attempt to cover the sound and looked around awkwardly. “Uh yeah! Yeah, just uh in a minute.”

“Okay but the game’s getting good man! Don’t wanna miss it.” He paused, “Hey have you seen my daughter around?”

You hummed around Sebastian and his eyes rolled back for a second before he straightened out. “Uh no, nope I haven’t seen her.”

“Huh, well I’m sure she’s fine. She knows how to take care of herself.”

Sebastian looked down at you, your hand still between your thighs. “Damn right she does.” His tongue swiped over his bottom lip as he locked eyes with you. “Know how to take care of me too, don’t you?” He nodded, “Mhm, yes you do.” Seeing him above you like that, hearing the praises he was whispering to you in his deep voice were enough to get you worked up. You could feel yourself getting closer and just as your cue came to orgasm, you didn’t have to fake it. You moaned and your back straightened out, your thighs closing around your hand as you came in your shorts. You blinked, snapping yourself out of your reverie and started bobbing your head up and down and Sebastian bit his fist, his hand gripping your neck as he thrusted a few times before cumming in down your throat.

You sucked around him as he throbbed in your mouth and he breathed out roughly as he pulled out. You smiled up at him, showing his release to the camera before swallowing it and showing him your tongue afterwards. He pulled you up and took the hand that was in your shorts, bringing it up to his lips before slipping your two fingers coated in your wetness, into his mouth. He kept his eyes on yours as he licked and sucked them clean, a seductive look in his stare.

Your lips parted in arousal and shock as he pulled away, a smirk on his face. “Delicious.” Your hand fell down to your side and you blinked a few times, looking up at him.

“Come find me in my room so you can return the favor.” You smiled and walked up to your room without looking back.

He tucked himself back into his pants and went after you after a few minutes, excusing himself to use the bathroom upstairs.

The director yelled cut and you had a ten minute break to freshen up before the next part of the scene. You didn’t have a lot to touch up so by the time Sebastian came up you were already in the bedroom for the next part. He came into the room a few minutes before you had to film again, eyes finding you as you sat on the bed.

He smiled softly, licking his lips and you pressed your thighs together which didn’t go unnoticed by him. “That mouth really is something else, doll.” He laughed, “Almost made me forget where I was.”

You bit your lip as the camera crew came in, setting everything up. You looked up at him and smiled sheepishly. “That’s a good thing, right?”

There was a glint in his eyes as he looked at you. “A really damn good thing, yeah.”

Feeling the heat of his gaze, you averted your eyes and you could sense him smile as he walked out of the room, preparing to film the last part of the scene. The crew made sure the lighting was alright and set up the cameras and the microphones before the director called action.

The camera focused on you as you pretended to scroll mindlessly on your phone as the other camera followed Sebastian up the steps. He paused, making sure no one was around before opening your door, slipping in and shutting it behind him.

You looked up and smirked, setting your phone aside. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show up.”

He pulled his shirt off as he walked towards the edge of the bed. “And miss my chance to taste that sweet pussy? You must be crazy.”

You laughed breathlessly as he climbed onto the bed and pulled you down to his level by your ankles. You smiled up at him and he captured your lips in a passionate kiss and you found yourself getting lost in the feeling of him on top of you. You slid your hands up to tug his hair and he growled, taking your wrists and pinning them above your head, making you gasp as he pressed himself into you and tilted his head to lick along your neck.

You arched your back under him and he continued to rub himself against you, only making you more desperate. After a few moments and a change of camera angles, he pulled your shirt off and slid down to pull your shorts off as well. He spread your legs slowly but firmly, his hands digging into your thighs as he glanced up at you, moving his head to press teasing kisses to your soft skin.

He kissed his way up your leg before licking a long stripe up your heat, his lips soon coming around to leave wet kisses to your slit. You brought your hands down to grip the sheets and he was quick to let go of your thighs and held your hands in his, by your sides.

Normally in these videos, the actors wouldn’t actually eat the actress out properly, only flicking their tongue lightly, wanting to show the camera and the viewers everything––but Sebastian wasn’t a fan of that method, so he buried his face between your thighs, eating you like you were his last meal.

“Taste so fucking sweet.” He smirked up at you when you whined, your fingers squeezing around his hands, as you squirmed under his hold. His tongue was lapping you up loudly but purposefully as he shook his head ferociously, groaning into you as your hips started to buck into his mouth.

“F––Fuck!”

He growled and quickened his pace before he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucking hard. Soon, your head fell back and your mouth dropped open, your back arching as you let out a silent cry. Your thighs tightened around his head when he let go of one of your hands and palmed your breast, tugging and teasing your nipples. He kept going until your legs were trembling, and only then did he pull away, licking his lips as he unbuttoned his pants and hastily tugged them off, throwing them off the bed.

He stroked his cock a few times before getting back between your legs and sliding it through your wetness. He tapped the tip on your clit and smiled when you jolted from the sensation. He then slid into you slowly, bottoming out smoothly, his hands pressing your thighs open so he could see all of you. He thrusted into you a few times slowly before picking up the pace gradually.

His eyes were transfixed on the way your pussy was swallowing him whole, clenching around him but one glance at your blissed out face had him twitching inside of you.

“Look at you. Taking my cock while your dad’s downstairs. Naughty girl.” He pounded into you hard and you moaned loudly. He brought a hand up to cover your mouth, leaning close to you as he kept pounding into you, your pleading eyes looking up at him. “Gotta be quiet baby girl, okay? Just stay there and take my cock like a good girl.”

You nodded, your hands coming up to hold his wrist as your eyes rolled back. He brought a hand down to rub at your clit and thrusted into you faster and you moaned behind his hand, your hips moving of their own accord.

“That’s it. Take that cock.”

In no time, he had you coming around his cock, his eyes watching you as you came undone, your body tensing before dropping back down to the bed gracefully, as if it were deflating. Just as you caught your breath, he pulled out and flipped you over onto your hands and knees.

“You okay baby?”

You nodded, smiling back at him. “Please fuck me.”

He groaned and slapped your ass before sliding back inside your tight walls. He grabbed your hips and fucked into you hard, the sound of your skin slapping against each other loud and enticing. He was moaning and cursing, pulling your hips back into his as he thrusted his cock into your opening. Your walls were tightening around him, coaxing him to tip over the edge.

His movements became more frantic, his fingertips turning white from the force he was using. “Fuck fuck fuck, gonna cum––”

You moaned at the ragged nature of his voice, the desperate pleas falling from his lips as he used you. “Please cum inside me, daddy.”

He cursed and came with a loud groan, his head falling back as he kept fucking you to prolong his high. His pace faltered and he soon slowed down before pulling out and moving aside to let the camera show the cum dripping out of you.

Once the camera got the shot, he slapped your ass playfully and grabbed it before pulling you up to sit on him. “Such a good girl.” He brought his hands up from your ass to your jaw and pulled you in for a reeling kiss. He licked into your mouth languidly, your tongues playing with each other as you both sighed and moaned into the kiss. He slipped a hand back down to play with your ass and you giggled, giving each other two more short kisses before pulling away and looking at each other, your eyes still cloudy with lust.

The director yelled cut and the shoot was over. Sebastian kept his eyes on you for a moment longer, his hands caressing your body. He kissed your cheek and whispered in your ear. “Knew you’d be a good girl for me.”

You whimpered and he grinned pulling back to look at you. “That was fucking amazing, doll. What’d you think?”

You shook your head, a smile on your lips. “I feel like I’m on cloud nine honestly.”

He smirked. “We’re definitely doing this again.”

––✧––

@ marvelouspeterparker 2021 –– please do not repost anywhere

[becomingbts]

Time heals (sometimes) - 1

Summary: 6 years ago, (Y/N) thought that she was finally taking her life into her hands, leaving behind a toxic and abusive relationship with a man who taught her she’d never be worthy of love. However, it became hard to ignore his words when she met her seven soulmates who rejected her without even giving her a chance to prove herself. It took (Y/N) 3 years to realize that it wouldn’t be her end. She would live on to prove them all wrong; she would become what they all thought she wasn’t: someone worthy of love. And as she stands proudly on the stage, under the  burning spotlights and the applause and  the cries of the delirious crowd, she feels alive. Alive, just like the bond she believed to be broken.

Pairings: Y/N x OT7

GENRE: Soulmate AU!, Idol Y/NAU!, semi social-media AU!, ANGST (mainly), fluff, romance, maybe smut in the series.

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Warnings:  The series is going to be heavy with a lot of personal experiences  mixed into the fiction, so this is going to be kind of therapeutic for me. Please, consider not reading the series if you are not comfortable with: abandonment issues, anxiety, panic attacks, depression, self-harm (not descriptive and only part of MC’s past), suicide thoughts (in the past), toxic behavior, toxic and abusive relationship (in the past), depreciating self-talk and low self-esteem, a lot of curse, physical and mental pain, near death experience situation (in the past), and maybe smut scenes (happy ending though, but it will probably be quite the ride).

NOTE: So hello everyone, welcome to Time Heals (sometimes). Thank you so, so much for the warm welcoming, it has been my first time getting so many asks, I was honestly overjoyed. I still don’t really know what to call this part; is it a teaser? A note? A full chapter? I believe we’ll get some snapshot of memories like this one throughout the series because there is going to be a lot to unpack on both sides. I think it will be a chapter nevertheless because I have to establish some kind of order as to which parts should be read first, and I think this one is extremely important.

Thank you for reading,

-Dolly

Profiles #2 - here - part 2

Her scream pierced through the air while cries broke in the frenzied arena while a single blond-haired man froze, emptily staring at the stage. It felt like his senses heightened; his skin was shuddering, his eyes were frantically searching for one specific figure while his voice was lost in his throat. The screams resonating in the stadium would have been too loud for his voice to be heard anyway. 

Jimin knew he shouldn’t be there. 

Namjoon had told them more than once that none of them should try to go to one of (Y/N)’s events. It could be dangerous and they could be overwhelmed; anything could happen to them and they would still remain a nobody who fainted in the howling crowd. Would they want to take this risk? No.

So, Jimin would have had to admit that going to her very first concert in Seoul since the pandemic sounded like a very, very, very bad idea. And to be honest, it still didn’t seem to be a bright idea now that he was actually there. 

But he still went because he needed to see her for himself; to see how she was. He had so many things he dreamed about asking her. Are you okay? Are you sleeping well? Did you eat before coming to the arena? Are you nervous? Do you... remember me? 

Maybe he was torturing himself. He kept on watching her lives, following her on all social media, always made sure to leave a sweet comment, and never miss any of her new updates... Maybe he even had a folder of pictures of her on his phone but he’d never admit it to any of his mates. Taehyung would probably take his phone away from him and delete everything and Jimin couldn’t let that happen.

He felt like it was cheating. Don’t take him wrong though. When he thought that, he was not really thinking about the boys. They did collectively agree not to follow her activities as an artist but it was getting harder and harder with how popular she got anyway. Moon was everywhere. In commercials, on the radio, her songs were on the TV… Even if she was known for refusing most of the promotional contracts that were offered to her, her image was still constantly in the media despite her avoidance of it. Ironic, but the media were trying their best to find anything about her, be it positive or negative. One day she was seen on her bike, the next, she was in a coffee shop, and it kept on going on, overstepping on her privacy as if it was just a meaningless word. 

The lockdown had admittedly played a major part in Jimin’s obsession. Being in their apartment meant quickly running out of activities, and his job as a dance teacher was not really filling his free time (a lot of his classes were also canceled). It was also during that time that (Y/N) truly blew up as an independent artist. Advertisement on YouTube started being around her channel and her music, the recommendations he kept on seeing were about also her… Jimin’s resolve honestly broke easily. It was hard not to be curious about his lost soulmate even though he didn’t feel like he had the right to be hurting. 

Anyway, to come back to his main point, if Jimin felt like he was cheating; it was mostly for her. After all, (Y/N) had no means of letting the curiosity get the best of her, to know what they were doing; to simply see or contact them. He had, at first, not really thought about that. Watching her content seemed a very innocent thing to do in his opinion; billions of people were watching her content, why should he prevent himself from doing so? Yet, Jimin could still remember one of her live she did soon after that interview she had given on this damned radio show where she had revealed who her title track ‘TIME’ was about… She had gone live the next day-Jimin had jumped on his phone because of the notification-and one fan had asked her what would she do if she knew that her ‘ex-soulmates’ (and those words left a very sour taste in Jimin’s mind) were watching her. The question had silenced a previously restless Jimin, replacing his initial excitation with dread while a lump formed itself in his throat. He had not even noticed it; he was so focused on her live and her upcoming answer that Jimin had completely missed the sound of a glass breaking in the apartment. Jimin had been home alone, so even if had indeed heard it, he probably wouldn’t have bothered to check what had happened, thinking that the wind knocked it over or something. Jimin had been so absorbed by what he had been watching that he even got surprised a few hours later when Seokjin came home and yelled at him for breaking something when he had been clearly innocent, engrossed in (Y/N)’s live (not that he could tell his soulmates about that part, but yeah). (Y/N)’s live would always be more important than some random glass breaking again in their apartment. Every object was doomed with Namjoon living here anyway.

On her side of the screen though, (Y/N) had seemed taken aback as she had read the question and had gritted her teeth gently. She had seemed to be pondering about her answer even though a lot of people in her chat were telling her to forget about the question if it made her uncomfortable (a lot were even scolding the person who asked). Yet, sighing softly, she had looked up at the screen: 

“I’d appreciate it if you could refrain from asking questions on this topic. It’s not taboo but I’d rather not remember everything that comes with it. However, to answer this-hopefully-last question about it, I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. It would only be fair after all. I’ve been denied access to their lives six years ago, why would they get a free pass into mine now?” She had not smiled nor had she seemed hurt by her own comment, yet Jimin’s heart had shattered in pieces, unable to press the cancel button. 

Her voice had slowly faded into background noise while her words had been stuck in his head. 

I’d ask them to turn off my stream and to stop watching any of my content. 

How could Jimin ever do that? He realized that he truly should. Namjoon would even agree with you, as ironic as it sounded for Jimin. Namjoon had been one of the most adamant ones about rejecting your bond, after all. Jimin was shaking with bitterness while ‘Moon’ continued her stream peacefully with music. Jimin could only try to gulp his anger down as he remembered her crumbling features on that fateful day. 

“You’re not our soulmates. This name on our arms means nothing to us. You are nothing to us if not a hindrance. Leave us alone.” 

If Jimin could go back in time, he’d prevent Taehyung from spatting those words at her. Yet, he couldn’t do anything. Playing the scene over and over in his mind wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t change that she probably hated them. It wouldn’t change the song she made about them. 

And worst of all, it wouldn’t change the fact that Jimin had let himself believe that their choice had been for the best, trying to console and reassure himself, even if he had already known that it was wrong. Tears were pooling up in his eyes even if none escaped as he finally caught a glimpse of her on the stage. Suddenly brought back to reality after his subconscious memory trip, Jimin finally connected back to the world, looking around while he was still frozen on his spot. People were still screaming around him and he wondered if he looked like an intruder. Because, after all, wasn’t that what he exactly was? She said it herself that she didn’t wish for them to watch her; so what was he doing here? 

Jimin couldn’t help but stare; she looked ethereal, dressed like a queen in the middle of a sold-out arena. People were screaming her name as she yelled her infamous ‘hi people’. It was an opening sentence that Jimin heard way too many times in her vlogs and suddenly hearing it in real life seemed surreal. 

Jimin could only watch in awe, entranced with her everything. 

Screw the boys and what they would think once he’d be back from her concert. 

He had been the one to find her six years ago anyway. He had been the one to bring her to their home six years ago, hoping for the boys to change their mind once they’d meet her.

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Uploaded : 09/04/2021

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[extasiswings]

15 + buddie

15. "Shouldn't you be with her?" On ao3 here.

When Eddie is eleven, his class gets a new student. Her name is Maria Esparza and her family is from Arizona. She has dark curls that look like they would be soft to touch and a smattering of freckles across her nose and she’s so smart—always reading and forever raising her hand in class, always with the right answers—but she never acts stuck up about it.

He thinks she’s beautiful and when he gets home from the first day of school he promptly announces that he’s in love. He doesn’t understand why his mother laughs or why Sophia rolls her eyes and calls him an idiot when he’s perfectly serious.

He’s in love, he insists, and goes on believing it for three whole weeks until he gets up the courage to give Maria a flower at recess and she looks at him like he has two heads. The rejection smarts for a couple of days, but then he’s fine. So, he figures...maybe it wasn’t love after all.

Eddie is fifteen when he finds his eyes slipping too frequently to Diego Reed in autoshop, lingering on the other boy’s long, dexterous fingers, his forearms, the sharp edge of his jaw. Eddie can’t explain it, he just knows those stolen glances make him squirm, make him flush, make him feel too warm and like his very skin is too tight.

Diego steals Eddie’s first kiss two weeks before winter break, pushes him up against the back wall of the shop where they’re hidden by a truck and licks into his mouth with a confidence that Eddie can’t imagine ever having when he himself can’t even figure out what to do with his hands. But it makes his knees weak and leaves him breathless and panting when Diego pulls away with a smirk and tells him not to say anything.

It’s not love—for one thing, Eddie knows he’s not supposed to love boys, and for another, the only time he suggests it might be anything at all, Diego gives him the same look Maria had once upon a time and walks away—but it’s nothing he’s ever felt before. The next year, Angelica Phelan asks him to go to the winter formal and he gets to second base in the science lab when they slip away from the chaperones. It’s different from kissing Diego. But it’s just as good, he enjoys it just as much, and part of him is…relieved.

He doesn’t think about that too much.

Eddie is eighteen when he’s not watching where he’s going and runs directly into his future on the sidewalk. Thankfully, the only casualty is Shannon’s coffee, and after she snaps at him for not paying attention and he offers to replace her drink—well. They close down the coffee shop, emerging, startled, from conversation only when interrupted by a mildly disgruntled employee trying to lock up. Eddie walks home in a daze, Shannon’s phone number burning a hole in his pocket, and he’s simultaneously elated and terrified because it’s never been so easy being with someone, he’s never felt so seen so quickly. He’s old enough to realize that love at first sight is bullshit, but he thinks he could fall very fast.

He’s right.

They take things slow because Eddie wants to do things right, doesn’t want to risk confusing love with the heady cocktail of teenage hormones and sex. So he knows by the time he does fall into bed with her, eight months in, that he’s in love. Really in love, thinking about the future in love, factoring her into the mix when he thinks about what the hell he’s going to do with his life in love.

And then Shannon gets pregnant. And it’s too soon, he loves her but it’s too soon, and he’s terrified all over again—

He loves her though. He loves her. And she’s pregnant so—they get married. He wants to do the right thing.

At their wedding the readings are selections from Song of Songs and Corinthians.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud....Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things...

With all due respect to St. Paul, Eddie doesn’t think he knew what the hell he was talking about. Or at least, maybe he did, but he was being pretty damn aspirational and left out a few things.

Because after the wedding…after the wedding, Eddie learns a lot more about love.

Love is beautiful, yes. But love is also…trying to do the right thing and fucking up. Love is fighting and knowing exactly what to say to cut the deepest and not always holding back. Love is forgiving, but after a point finding it difficult to forget.

Or maybe that’s not love, maybe that’s just marriage. Maybe it’s a little of both. Because love endures—sure. Love endured with Shannon even when trust was nonexistent, when their marriage was fractured, shattered pieces strewn across the floor ready to draw blood if either of them tried to pick them up.

Love isn’t enough. That’s what Eddie knows. Or maybe it is, maybe love would have been enough to fix what was broken if it hadn’t been his. Shannon’s gone, so they’ll never be able to have that conversation. He’ll never know the answer.

Love endures. Eddie kind of wishes it didn’t. It would make a lot of things a lot easier.

But…it’s fine. He’s fine. Shannon dies and he locks that piece of himself away and has no plans to ever fall in love again.

Then again, God has a funny sense of humor and never seems to resist an opportunity to be an asshole, so of course…he does. Slowly. Quietly. The threads slipping through the cracks in his walls so carefully that he doesn’t even notice until they’re twined around his heart, unspooling through his blood, through his veins with every pulse. Eddie doesn’t notice.

And then he gets shot and it’s like being hit by lightning, an electric shock of clarity down his spine, rooting him in place as he meets Buck’s eyes.

Oh.

Oh, fuck.

***

Eddie despises recovery.

He’s never been good at being still, at being useless, at being left alone with nothing but his own head. And maybe he’s not entirely alone—he has Christopher, after all, and Christopher is understandably a little clingy now that he’s home from the hospital—but Christopher sleeps and has play dates and spends time in his room and just in general isn’t in Eddie’s space every second of every day.

And then there’s Buck. Buck who offered to keep staying on the couch to take care of everything they needed when Eddie came home from the hospital. Buck who Eddie sent home to his own bed with promises to call if he needed help because having Buck so close after Eddie’s little realization was stirring him up, making everything a million times more difficult in his head. Buck’s still over frequently, but it’s less dangerous if he’s not staying overnight, if Eddie can’t wake up and be tempted to walk out to the living room and pull Buck into his bed. Not for anything sexual—he’s on too many medications and too immobilized for that even if it was remotely a good idea—but to be held. To feel wanted. To feel safe.

He knows Buck probably wouldn’t say no, wouldn’t think anything of it except that maybe he’s a little raw and fragile, which he is. Which is exactly why he can’t ask. So. Removing the temptation it is.

But. Being left alone with his own head is a terrible idea. He’s in pain because he lowered the doses of his pain meds so he would stop worrying about developing any dependency. He can’t sleep without waking up with screams trapped behind his teeth and the smell of blood and gunpowder in his nose. And he can’t stop thinking about Buck. About being in love with Buck. About wanting Buck. About whether he could ever have him or whether he’ll ever be okay enough to be in a relationship. About whether Buck could ever want him back or if he’ll ever feel safe enough to risk their friendship by even asking.

He broke up with Ana the second he was able to figure out how to do it without feeling like a complete dick. But he hasn’t told Buck that. He doesn’t know why.

And then there’s—

The key turns in the lock and Eddie starts, looking up from his place on the couch. Christopher is with his abuela for the night, and he didn’t expect—

“Hey,” Buck calls, stepping through the door. “I brought dinner.”

Eddie stares.

“What are you doing here?” He asks, before he can stop himself. “Shouldn’t you be with Taylor?”

—Taylor. Buck and Taylor. Which, Buck waited weeks to tell him about, hedging about why he wanted to know if it was okay to invite her to Eddie’s welcome home party. Which, Buck only did admit to when Eddie called one night at 2AM and Taylor answered Buck’s phone.

Eddie clears his throat, the question sounding a little too sharp and accusatory to his ears.

“I just meant,” he adds, softening, “I thought you said you had a date tonight.”

An odd look passes over Buck’s face.

“Isabel called me,” he replies. “She said you were by yourself, asked if I would check on you. We rescheduled, it’s fine.”

Eddie nods once and pulls the couch throw tighter around his shoulders with his good arm. A petty, possessive piece of him is pleased. That Buck’s there. That Buck would drop everything for him.

He’s always been wary of Taylor. Even way back when they first met and she was prowling around the station filming everyone and flirting with Buck. But now? Now he’s jealous, his stomach twisting at the very reminder that she has Buck the way Eddie wants him.

But at the same time…he hates that. Hates the jealousy, hates feeling possessive. Because what claim does he have over Buck’s affections? None. Especially not when he can’t even admit to loving him outside his head.

He hates it because he knows that more than anything, Buck deserves to be happy. And maybe Eddie could make him happy, but—

Even if Buck felt the same—and Eddie isn’t convinced of that, doesn’t have the arrogance to assume—what right does he have to say please, to say wait, to ask Buck to put his life on hold indefinitely while Eddie sorts through the tangled mess in his head in the hope that one day he’ll finally be ready? He can’t be that selfish. Especially not with Buck.

Buck deserves to be happy. Even if that’s with Taylor Kelly. Even if it means Eddie loses him.

He doesn’t get to be jealous.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Eddie replies quietly. “I’m fine.”

Buck sets the bag in his arms down on the coffee table.

“You don’t look fine,” he points out. “Actually, you look like shit. Isabel was right to call me.”

“I’m fine,” Eddie repeats. His heart pangs at the concern in Buck’s eyes. “Really, it’s okay—you should—you should—”

Go. Call Taylor back. Enjoy your date.

He wants to do the right thing. He really does. But the rest of the words refuse to leave his throat.

Buck shakes his head anyway. “I’m not going anywhere,” he insists. “So tell me what’s going on. How can I help?”

Eddie bites his lip. Drags his hand over his jaw before making a face. The messy, overgrown scruff is itchy and difficult to manage on his own, and the foreignness of it doesn’t help him feel grounded in his own body when he wakes up gasping in the middle of the night.

“It’s stupid,” he says.

“I’m sure it’s not,” Buck replies. “And I’m here, so you might as well just talk.”

I’m in love with you, Eddie thinks. And I can’t sleep. And I can’t shave. And everything hurts. And I just want to stop being afraid—

He swallows. He can’t say all of that. He can’t blow everything up that way.

So, he picks the easiest one.

“I can’t shave with my left hand and it’s driving me insane.”

Buck blinks. Then he laughs as the worry in his brow smooths out.

“That’s it?” He asks. “Well, that’s easy. I can do that. Come on.”

And that’s how Eddie winds up sitting on the bathroom counter with shaving cream all over his face while Buck wets a razor and steps between his legs.

His breath catches.

“You good?” Buck asks, his voice low. His eyes are soft and focused, and Eddie almost regrets everything because the proximity—god, the proximity. He’s been so cold since the shooting and Buck is so warm, heat spreading through Eddie’s body from every discrete point of contact. Buck tips his chin back and Eddie lets his eyes slip closed.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “I’m good.”

The razor drags along his skin. Neither of them say a word, the main sound in the room the drip of the faucet when Buck rinses the razor between passes. They’ve always been physical with each other, but this sort of thing is new. Intimate.

Eddie aches.

His eyes open a crack to watch. Buck’s lower lip is caught between his teeth, and having every ounce of that focus on him is…intoxicating.

I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Buck steps in closer, Eddie’s legs spread ever so slightly wider. A spark of heat flashes through him and he inhales sharply—Buck’s startled enough that his hand slips and the razor nicks Eddie’s jaw.

“Shit,” Buck swears. The razor clatters into the sink. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

Eddie opens his eyes the rest of the way. “It’s fine,” he assures. “What, you think I’ve never cut myself shaving before? It’s still better than I would have managed myself.”

“I’m—” Buck looks stricken, his fingers reaching out to gently cradle Eddie’s jaw only for him to snatch them back almost instantly, the tip of one faintly smeared with blood. His hand trembles.

“Buck,” Eddie says quietly. Buck’s eyes are fixed on the red smear and Eddie is sent back—

Watching his blood splash across Buck’s face and not realizing at first that it was his. Being half-delirious on the way to the hospital worrying that Buck had been hurt—

All this time, Buck’s been moving forward, pushing ahead, for Christopher, for him, for everyone, and Eddie knew he wasn’t entirely okay, knew he was fucked up from the moment in the hospital when he said I think it would have been better if I was the one who got shot, but since Eddie’s been home, Buck has seemed…better.

Maybe not. Maybe he’s been struggling to pretend as much as Eddie has.

Eddie twists around to grab the towel draped over the faucet and wets it enough to wash the rest of the shaving cream off his face, feels the sting of soap and water in the cut. And then he reaches out to grab Buck’s hand, wiping the blood off of his finger.

There’s something profane about blood staining skin. And something sacred in the act of washing it clean.

Eddie wonders if anyone helped Buck wash his blood off when he was in surgery. Taylor, maybe.

But no, that doesn’t feel right.

Buck probably did it himself. Alone.

“Hey.” Eddie squeezes Buck’s fingers. When Buck doesn’t look at him, he reaches out and curls his hand around the side of Buck’s neck, tips Buck’s chin up with his thumb to force him to meet his eyes. “Hey. It’s okay. I’m okay. No harm done.”

Buck breathes out shakily. His throat works, his face passes through a million stages—finally, his hands fall to the counter on either side of Eddie’s hips and his forehead drops to Eddie’s good shoulder. Eddie lets his hand slip around to the back of Buck’s neck, his fingers combing up through the short hairs there. He turns his head and he’s close enough to kiss the side of Buck’s, but he holds off. It feels like it would be too much. Too much when Buck doesn’t know how he really feels, what he really wants. But even just this—the closeness, the touch—is good. Needed. A balm to the itch under his skin.

When Buck turns his face into Eddie’s neck and inhales, Eddie thinks maybe Buck might need this just as badly.

“I’m okay,” he repeats, closing his eyes again as his fingers comb through Buck’s hair. “We’re okay. We’re okay.”

They stay like that for a long time. Buck’s phone rings out once, but neither of them moves to answer it. Eventually, Buck lifts his head and clears his throat roughly as he steps back.

Eddie’s hand falls away from Buck’s neck. He feels the absence keenly.

“You good?” He asks. Buck nods. His eyes are red.

“Yeah,” Buck replies. He pauses. Shakes his head. “No. But—can we just—can I just finish this for now? I want to finish this.”

Eddie watches him for a moment. Wets his lips. Then finally nods and passes over the shaving cream again.

“Sure,” he says. “I trust you.”

I love you.

Maybe…maybe eventually he’ll be braver. Maybe eventually, both of them will be free at the same time and he’ll be whole and healed, or at least something closer to it than he is now. Maybe eventually…love will be enough. Maybe.

For now, he has this.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter 23}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Occasional surprise chapters could be posted at miscellaneous times. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara’s blogs! >> @tacmc.​

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby’s Masterlist

Tara’s Masterlist

Nesta was torn.

Half of her thought that Cassian was overreacting, but the other half of her thought that his anger and frustration was perfectly justified.

What exactly were they getting into? And, was it what was best for Nyx? Yeah, the last month had been great, but if it didn’t work out, what would that mean for him? Would it be better if she and Cassian had simply remained two friends, co-parenting under one roof?

Nesta’s heart began to beat a little faster.

She felt like she was going into a panic attack.

Cassian and Nyx had been gone for an hour, and every second that passed became more and more unbearable.

She needed him to be there.

She needed to figure this out.

She just didn’t know what the answer was.

Alis had gotten into her head, there was no doubt about that. A little over an hour ago, she was living in a dream, then Alis came in, out of nowhere, and brought her back to reality.

She was sitting on the couch, almost exactly where he’d left her, when he finally returned. He was covered in sweat, his t-shirt sticking to him. Nyx was having a conversation with him, more to himself though, since it didn’t seem like Cassian was even close to paying attention to him. But his eyes went directly to Nesta as soon as he walked in.

She’d changed. She no longer wore his t-shirt, instead in a loose shirt of her own and a pair of jeans, and her hair was loose and wet around her face. As if she’d need to shower their night together, shower him off of her. Not a shred of that beautiful skin was showing, not like she’d been doing lately. Leggings and shorts and tank tops. She’d been comfortable around him.

With a scoff, Cassian set Nyx down on the floor. He headed for the stairs, but Nesta stood, nearly toppling the cup of coffee she’d been clutching over as she set it on the coffee table. “Cassian, we need to talk about this.”

He paused, waving a hand towards her. “What for? It looks like you’ve already made your decision.”

“I need you to calm down,” she said, steadily. “I need you to think logically.”

Cassian closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “I need you to tell me.”

Nesta hesitated. “Tell you what?”

“If this is something you want to pursue or if I just wasted the last couple months falling in love with you,” he finished.

His voice may have lacked emotion, but Nesta felt every word like a stab in the chest. Falling in love with you. Those were the words she was going to tell him today, under much different circumstances.

Now, she didn’t know what to think.

Now, she was overwhelmed.

Now, all of her thoughts were rushing toward the same spot in the middle of her skull at a thousand miles an hour, and when they got there, her head would explode.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, and her voice cracked.

“But it should be,” Cassian said. “If you feel the way that I do, it should be that easy.”

“We have to think of Nyx,” she breathed.

“I am thinking of Nyx,” he said, struggling to keep his voice low. At the sound of his name, the baby turned to look at him. “I want him to grow up in a happy home, seeing two people who love each other, and damn it if that isn’t how it’s been for the past few weeks.”

“It’s not that simple,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “What happens if we break up? What happens if we get in a fight or something happens to one of us? What then?”

He had strode down the stairs and was in front of her before he could stop himself. He framed her face in his hands, like he had so many times the past month, to kiss her, to make love to her, to show her how he cared for her. “Why are you worrying about the what if’s? Why are you worrying about what could go wrong, rather than how right everything has been?”

Because everything goes wrong eventually. The only reason we’re together is because we were shoved into this house after the worst thing imaginable happened. They died. We took over. What right do we have to be happy?

The words flooded her mind, but stilled on her tongue.

Nesta didn’t push him away. She wanted to reach up on her toes and kiss him, softly, but she didn’t.

Instead, she met his gaze. “Cass,” she breathed.

The pain in his eyes nearly shattered her heart into a million pieces.

Nyx had walked up to them and was hugging Nesta’s leg, as if he knew that she needed the comfort.

“Dont say my name like that,” he whispered.

Nesta slowly shook her head. “I just think this has all happened too quickly. We haven’t been thinking, we’ve just been acting-.”

“You’re pushing me away,” Cassian interrupted, swallowing harshly. “Damn it, Nesta.”

“You don’t understand,” she pleaded.

“Because you’re not making sense,” he argued. “Things have been perfect—”

“They’re dead!” She cried, pulling from his grip, scooping Nyx up. “Things have been far from perfect. We’re only like this now because Rhys and Feyre are dead.”

The words seemed to freeze something inside of Cassian and he stepped back as well. “So what? We go back to how we used to be? I’m back in the guest room and we awkwardly exchange good mornings over breakfast?”

She closed her eyes, trying to block out the sight of him, the scent of him, everything. “I don’t know, Cassian, I don’t—.” She took a shuddering breath, her arms wrapping tighter around Nyx. “I just need some time to think, to breathe…”

When she looked back up at him, his jaw was set and he was slowly nodding. “Fine. Take your time.”

And then he was moving, back up the stairs before Nesta could even ask what he was doing.

A few minutes later, he was back with a duffle bag in his hands.

“Wh—what are you doing?”

“Giving you space,” he said, refusing to meet her gaze.

Nesta opened her mouth but nothing came out. She was frozen where she stood, her feet stuck to the floor, her mouth hanging open, that panic rising from the pit of her stomach into her heart, which was beating far too quickly.

Cassian kissed Nyx on the forehead as he passed, but paid Nesta no mind as he went for the door.

“Cassian!” She called, at last.

Cassian stopped just in front of the door, keeping his back to her, one hand on the doorknob.

“You're just going to leave?” She asked, quietly, bouncing a sleepy Nyx on her hip. “Just like that?”

Cassian didn’t turn around. “Are you going to ask me to stay?”

Yes. No. I don’t know. Nesta said nothing.

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he grumbled, exhaustion lacing his tone. “Maybe I need time to think, too.”

He opened the door and shut it softly behind him.

*

He didn’t know where else to go. He didn’t have anywhere else to go.

He knew where he wanted to be, but right now…

He couldn’t look at her.

It didn’t escape him that when he’d told her he’d fallen in love with her, she didn’t say it back. He couldn’t even act like he hadn’t seen her eyes flare in panic. So he couldn’t stay there. Couldn’t go back to sleeping in that guest room, not when he’d become so used to sleeping with her in his arms every night.

So Cassian had ended up here, knocking on his brother’s door, thankful that his car had been parked in the driveway when he pulled up.

He needed a drink. He needed someone to tell him he was being an asshole. He needed someone to listen while he vented and bitched. He knew Azriel would do all that for him.

When he answered the door, Seph was in his arms, pulling on his bottom lip. She smiled when she saw Cassian, but Azriel’s surprised smile quickly faded.

“Do I want to know?” He asked, looking at the duffel bag tossed over Cassian’s shoulder.

Cassian sighed, raking a hand through his hair. “Can I sleep here tonight?”

Azriel stared at him for a second before stepping aside and letting Cassian pass.

“Are we talking about this now or later?” Azriel asked, shutting the door behind them.

“Beer?” Cassian asked, dropping his bag beside the couch.

“Fridge,” Azriel said, slowly, watching him.

Cassian made his way to the kitchen and threw open the refrigerator door, grabbing a cold bottle and chugging its contents.

Azriel followed, leaning against the countertop and Seph continued to play with his lips.

“Where’s Elain?” Cassian asked, tossing the empty bottle into the trash and getting another.

“Work,” Azriel said, sighing. “So, if this involves smack talking Nesta, you may want to get it out now.”

He shook his head. He didn’t want to do that, barely wanted to think about her. But he owed Azriel at least some explanation.

“The social worker stopped by this morning,” he sighed, leaning back against the counter and opening the beer. “And honestly, yeah, it was unexpected, but I figured it’d be fine. Last time, Nes was drunk off her ass, but we— I figured, since we were more of a family this time, things would be great.”

Azriel blinked. “They’re not taking Nyx, are they?”

Another shake of his head. “No, gods, no. They— She could tell he was in good hands, but she immediately picked up on Nesta and I. What we’ve…become.”

It seemed, just like Cassian, Azriel didn’t see it as a problem. He wasn’t following. “And?”

“And Nyx was hungry so I left the social worker and Nesta alone to get him breakfast. I came back and she’s gone and Nesta is second-guessing our relationship. She asked if I’m just fucking her out of convenience.”

The thought made him sick to his stomach, almost as badly as it hurt his heart.

“And you replied with…” Azriel began, trailing off, waiting for Cassian to finish the sentence.

“I went for a jog,” Cassian said, shrugging.

“So you ran away?” Azriel pushed.

Cassian shot him a look. “No. I went for a jog.”

Azriel sighed. “And when you came back?”

“She said she needed space,” Cassian said, emptying his bottle.

Azriel set Seph on the floor with a plastic spatula, which she instantly start banging on the cabinets. “And that’s when you ran away?”

“I didn’t run,” Cassian snapped. “I gave her what she wanted. I gave her space.”

Azriel slowly shook his head. “Did you even try to talk things out?”

“Yes,” Cassian said, the word clipped. “Told her I was falling in love with her, and guess how she replied?”

Azriel watched his brother.

“Didn’t say a fucking word,” Cassian finished.

When Azriel didn’t speak, he walked back to the trash can, dropping the bottle inside.

“Quit looking at me like I’m the bad guy here,” he said, unable to turn around and look his brother in the eye. “She was ending it. She was calling things off and I’m supposed to, what? Just keep living there like we were before? Pretend nothing has changed?” He swallowed hard, willing the damn tears clouding his vision to fade. They wouldn’t. “She didn’t even ask me to stay.”

Azriel sighed, opening a cabinet beside the fridge that Seph couldn’t reach. He produced a bottle of whiskey and set it on the counter. “I can’t drink until Elain gets home. And I absolutely think you need to talk to Nesta, but I think you’re right. You need to stay here tonight. Give her space.”

Cassian blinked, and a tear that was holding on slid free, down his cheek. He angrily wiped it away. He felt ridiculous, but it had been a long time since he had told a woman that he loved her. He’d never said it in his adulthood. A couple times in his teens, before he knew what the word really meant, but never as an adult.

He’d said it.

He’d meant it.

And she hadn’t felt the same.

Cassian nodded and poured himself a glass of whiskey.

*

Nesta stared at Cassian’s contact on her phone screen.

She wanted to press the call button, but didn’t.

She did open a blank text a few times, but couldn’t type anything.

She didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to do.

She knew what she wanted.

She wanted Cassian.

But, she didn’t know if that was a good thing or not.

She had never been one who was dependent on a man, had spent most of her twenties single and having no problem with it. But suddenly, she couldn’t imagine her day to day life without Cassian in it. And that terrified her.

She heard murmuring on the baby monitor sitting next to her on the side table and glanced over to see Nyx sitting up in his crib.

It had been nearly three hours since Cassian left, and aside from putting Nyx down for a nap, Nesta had barely moved. She still sat in the same spot on the couch she’d been in when the social worker had shown up and when she’d ignored that Cassian had said that he loved her.

The words should have filled her with joy and she should have screamed from the rooftops that she loved him, too. Instead she locked up and thought she was going to be sick.

What was wrong with her?

Wiping away the tears she didn’t even realize had fallen, Nesta hurried up the stairs, and into Nyx’s nursery. He reached for her the moment he saw her, his own big, blue eyes beginning to fill with tears.

“What’s wrong, bubba?” She cooed, resting his head against her shoulder.

After a deep sigh, he looked up at her and reached for a tear that had fallen down her cheek. His lip began to wobble.

“I’m okay,” Nesta promised, even though her voice cracked and those tears continued. “I’m okay, buddy, I promise.”

Nyx knew, though.

He knew something wasn’t right.

He knew Cassian was gone.

He knew Nesta was heartbroken.

Little did he know that her heartbreak was self-inflicted.

Nyx laid his head back on her shoulder and clung to her. He stayed like that as she walked back downstairs and sat back in her spot on the couch.

He held onto her, looking around the room. She knew he was looking for him and was about to tell him he wasn’t here when he spoke. The word wasn’t a mash up of noises like it had always been. No, it was a true and steady word. His first word.

“Dada?”

Nesta froze. She didn’t even know what to say. Should she tell him Cassian wasn’t his father? He probably wouldn’t even understand, just like he didn’t understand where Rhys and Feyre had gone.

But…for all intents and purposes, Cassian was his daddy now. And she was his mama.

So she pressed a kiss to his dark hair and whispered. “He had to leave, baby. He had to go for a little while.”

Nesta hoped and prayed that Cassian would walk back through that door, and yet, she couldn’t muster the courage to ask him to.

That night, instead of Cassian taking up the spot next to her, it was Nyx, who held her hand until they both fell asleep.

[aconstantstateofbladerunner]

The Glitch

I get the Broken Reality au is a haha funny joke but there’s been some legit great art for it and since Butterfly is over and I haven’t gotten into the groove of my other projects yet, I decided to try some flash fiction of my interpretations. Note that this is very small and informal; I used whatever idea came into my head over the course of an hour or so instead of the weeks of planning that go into my usual fics. This was an experiment for fun. But if people enjoy the concept, I may be tempted to expand on it.

Credit to @lollitree @moonpaw @gentrychild​ @owlf45​ and @cyber-phobia​ (I’m sorry if I missed someone I lost track of how many people were involved in this mess).

Content working for reference to infant death.

Please enjoy!

The city shut down for a typhoon warning.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  Dark clouds blocked the sun so much that by mid-morning it still looked like it never bothered coming up.  And yet the humidity made it too hot for coffee.  Inko didn’t know how to feel.  Work would have been a good distraction.  But she didn’t want any coworkers or clients to see if today got to be too much.  And it was already shaping up to be.  She caught herself making two plates of food for breakfast.  

Inko sat alone in the kitchen.  She couldn’t bring herself to finish her own plate.  Sickness set in fast.  The food had been cold for a long time before she summoned the strength to get up and throw it away.  Then she stood over the open trash can a while, debating whether to try and hold it together, or just throw up and get it over with.  She eventually managed to keep her stomach steady enough to go back to her bedroom.  There was another trashcan in there anyway.

A sound stopped her.  From her office.  The distinct sound of something heavy falling onto the carpet.  Right as she walked past the door.

Please not this again…

She opened the door with her eyes closed.  Her mind conjured a familiar image.  A bedroom full of books and hero posters.  Bright colors and personal touches.  A child’s room.  Inko opened her eyes to her drab home office.  Some of the older case file binders slipped off the pile again.  She really needed to sort those into storage. Not today though.  She didn’t bother to pick it up.

Inko walked faster than normal the rest of the way to her room.  She doesn’t want to face the temptation to search for old toys she remembers storing in the empty closet.  Or search the walls for scuff marks from action figures tossed into them she could always see even after the walls were painted. She hid her planner on a tall shelf and put the ladder away to make it that much harder to go through it over and over looking for doctors’ appointments and school events she knew were coming up.  Finally reaching her bed brought no comfort.

Of course she knew today’s date by heart.  She hadn’t put it on a calendar in the fourteen years since she used to look at it every day.  Inko stuck her head under her pillows, as if they could block out the silent noise of her memories.  Memories of before, the time even when she was by herself, she was never alone.

Fifteen years now, today.  With a shuddering gasp, the tears finally came.  Thunder crashed outside.  It’s not fair!  Why is it still this hard after this long?  Phantom kicks in her belly joined the growing ice there.

The hardest part was she still felt like that sometimes.  Like she wasn’t really alone.  Inko didn’t believe in ghosts, but the lost of what could have been was more than haunting enough.  She felt it watching her.  Judging her. Waiting just long enough for her to settle down into a peaceful, content existence before it reared up to plague her heart all over again.  Cliché hauntings like spooky faces in the mirror or blood coming out of the drains would have been preferable.  Those would be generic enough not to remind her directly.

Rain started outside.  Her phone lit up with a notification she ignored in time with a thunderclap.  The storm was getting closer.

Maybe I should call Hisashi, the thought crossed her mind.  Maybe he’s going through this too.  She bit her lip bloody.  Her frustrated memories weren’t in question like the others.  Probably not though.  I don’t want to talk to him anyway.

Hisashi had been stuck in the denial stage of grief, which often came off as him acting like he didn’t take hers seriously.  Not a year, not even half a year looking back, after they came home from the hospital, he wanted to try again.  

“We can’t let mourning hold us up forever,” he said.  “And it’s not like we lost a once in a lifetime opportunity!  We’ve got at least another twenty years to keep trying!”

But we did lose him! she had wanted to scream.  Still did, years later.  Why didn’t he understand?  He was your loss too!  Inko wanted for the next roll of thunder, then shouted.  

“I don’t just want any baby!  I want Izuku!”

The lights went out.  The temperature rose five degrees instantly when the ceiling fan stopped going.  The rain stopped.

Power outage.  Inko sat up with a sniffle.  Turns out the notification was a warning about roving blackouts.  Of course.  Oh well. I wasn’t really in the mood to cook tonight any-

Thunder boomed even louder than before, making her jump.  Then another.  Lightning flashed outside at the same time.  It was right on top of her.

What?  I thought the typhoon wasn’t supposed to make landfall until later toni-

Another crash.  It vibrated through her bones.  Then another. The lightning lit up her whole room. Except for a shadow on the wall. Inko jolted to look, holding her breath, and found only her own shadow in the next flash.

“I’m such an idiot…”  She went for her phone again.  For peace of mind, she decided to use her data to check if an evacuation order went out. Or any updates at all really, since the weather came so much faster than the news said.  “Nothing,” she sighed annoyed.  “I hate being alone for weather like this…”

A new notification pinged.

[Mom]

Inko blinked rapidly.  The message remained.  All of her insides turned inside out in an instant, and she started crying again. Was this someone’s idea of a sick joke? No one ever got a chance to call her that.  She touched the note to open it, but nothing happened.  No app or source was displayed.  Nor did it go away after a few seconds like normal.  

“Wha- What’s going on?” she wept.  In a mix of sorrow and rage, she wound up to chunk the device across the room.  But she froze.

Outside her window, floating against the pitch-black sky, were two small orbs.  Perfectly circular and glowing.  Watching her. She didn’t dare move.  

Another ping.  She looked without moving.

[I’m sorry]

“…  What?”

For a moment, all the sounds in the world dropped out.  They all came back at ounce.

Lights flickered.  Both the ones inside and the lightning going outside.  Multiple strikes laid on top of one another.  No relief.  Thunder pounded over and over like a drum solo.  It shook the whole building.  Inko ran into the closet away from the window.  She slammed her hands over her eyes but it didn’t help.  Her terrified cried were whispers to the screams of the storm.

A child’s scream.  She heard it. Each flash of light came with a cry. The distinct sound of a little boy calling out in pain blended with unyielding nature.  It came from every direction.  Every hair on Inko’s arms stood up in fear.  She felt the charge in the air.  But she had to go out.  Her baby was crying for help.

She burst from the closet into the living room.  All the lights and appliances turned themselves on and off.  The TV showed only static between its flashes. Something drew her too it.  The storm was deafening.  It pounded through her head like a heartbeat.  The beats got faster.  The static flashes started to look like a face.  Her usual caution was abandoned as she fell to her knees and touched the screen.  The snow cleared for a single instant.  Just long enough to look like the blank eyes from the window.  She felt the heartbeat there too.

Then it stopped.  All of it. The noise and lights all went quiet and dark.  The TV went completely cold in an instant.  Inko, stunned, palmed over it looking for something.  Anything.  The pulse. Warmth.  A burnt fuse or faulty wire.  But nothing.  The rain started again.

She pulled her hands back to her lap.  Her heart was still racing and tears kept flowing down under her chin. She looked around.  Everything in the living room and kitchen looked the same. No sign of the earthquake-like convolutions the whole appartement experienced only minutes ago.  Inko combed the entire space for evidence.  An object knocked off the shelf.  A picture frame fallen from the wall.  The notifications.  Toys in the closet or scuffs in the wall.  Still not a sign.  She even stepped outside her door to check the sky.  Only light rain and shattered thunder, just like the news said the day before.

There was only one thing out of place.  Back in her bedroom, the bottom drawer of her nightstand hung open.  Inko had to steal herself before approaching it. There were only two things in there: a little green blanket, and a picture of the ultrasound.  The most recent one from her last appointment. The doctor said he was doing fine.

“Izuku…” she whispered to it in her hand.

She remembered the squealing little bundling being put in her arms for the first time.  The first time he smiled at her.  Teaching him to walk, then immediately launching into play.  Him coming home with bruises and scrapes after the kids at school were mean to him, and crying in her arms.  Then, him coming home with his first real friends in a long time. She made them all dinner. Katsudon.  That was Izuku’s favorite.

Only she didn’t remember.  The same way she didn’t really remember the toys and scuffs.  Those were fantasies.  Daydreams of what could have been.  She just thought about them so often they felt like memories. Especially today.  It was his birthday after all.  They’d fade back into vague dreams by tomorrow.  They always did.  

And she would be left with reality.  The silence.  The cold, still little hand between her fingers.  Soft cheeks without blush.  Eyes that never opened.  Clutching him too tight to her chest, knowing the second she let go he would be gone for real and it would all be over.  

But it was never over.  Inko went through this same torturous song and dance every year for fifteen now.  All the guilt and dread would subside slowly over the next one, until it all came back at once.  Just like this.

At least it’s done for now, she tried to reassure herself, climbing back into bed. It still wasn’t even noon yet.  Plenty of time for another breakdown.  Hopefully the next one won’t be, feel, as loud.  She sighed heavily into her sheets.  This sort of thing can’t be normal.  I should really try therapy again.

Against her better judgement, she kept the blanket out, and clutched it to her chest.  Static electricity pricked her fingers.  With her other hand, she reached across the bed, and tried to imagine someone else there. Not Hisashi, never him anymore.  Izuku.  He was fifteen and happy, but the storm was making him nervous so he came to lay beside her.  She remembered it like it was now.  If she closed her eyes, she could feel his warm, soft skin, with a healthy, if a little anxious heartbeat just underneath.  The mattress warped as he sighed.

“We’ll be okay.  It’s just a little rough weather,” she promised.

“Okay, Mom,” Izuku answered quietly.  “…  I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”  I’ll start trying to get myself together tomorrow.  For now, let me have this.

Izuku didn’t respond for a while.  “I love you.”

“I love you too, baby.  Happy birthday.”

[vogueinnie]

HEAVEN OR HELL ; part. 2 TEASER - PART 1 - PART 2 - (...)

       ━ WARNINGS ; demon!hyunjin, virgin fem!reader

if you feel uncomfortable with the mentions of religion, please don’t read this story cause there are a lot blasphem, mentions of Lucifer and Mammon (Lucifer’s son)

corruption kink, fear kink, humiliation (and not only in a sexual way), mention of killing a cat, pet name (angel), manipulation, mention of alcohol (wine), reader is ashamed of herself, sir kink, nipple play, clitoral masturbation, grinding, very slight choking, slight possessive kink, no penetrative sex

     ━ WORD COUNT ; 3.3k      ━ NOTE ; part 2!!! the smut part is kinda... soft? but the naaaasty is coming!!! also sorry for that cliffhanger at the end zjfhdzfz. feedback are so welcomed!!

The sinister forest in which you walked every morning now was very different from the glittering glade you were used to. The trees were whopping and if you looked at them for too long you can see red eyes forming in the wood. Or was it your imagination ? No one never knows. No beautiful tulips, no cute birds tickling your ears with their cute whistles, no bunnies jumping here and there. Just dead flowers and a mortifying dead silence.

Everything was dead.

All the love and joy living in your heart were starting to fade away. You can’t even remember for how long you were stuck in this place you don’t belong. The time seemed to be unfairly long. The days were all the same, empty, but tormenting in a certain way. You even started to forget how it was, in Heaven.

But in your misfortune you were lucky. Mammon chooses you. He was one of the most powerful of this world, after all. You were constantly watched, mocked by the people living here for being an angel. But what was wrong in being good ? Hyunjin was walking you everywhere like a trophy, or a dog, exposing you to everyone with the leather leash he used on you the first time you both met. They all seemed both amazed and disgusted by you. 

“Why did Mammon chooses her ? Is she that special ? She’s an angel, how can he spends his day with her ?” were most of the words you were able to hear when you were around the devilish creatures. And Hyunjin never answers one of those questions, but his legendary smirk wnever left his face. It was ever more painful for you to understand that you were nothing but a toy for him. But what did you expect ? To be fully accepted as a sweet person ? Bullshits.

The only time he left you alone was on mornings. That’s why you always ended up in that scary forest near the huge castle you were left. Well, alone was a big word.

Jeongin was following you everywhere. He was Hyunjin’s personal and favorite servant. A strangely gentle and obedient demon. He looked young and pure, his beautiful angular face was surrounded by his dark blue hair. And you found that there were bright shades of red waiting to sparkle in his eyes. He was tall, not as tall as Hyunjin, but tall enough to be impressive.

There was no in between in this world. Demons were either painful to watch or absolutely breathtaking.

You were walking in the dead grass with him next to you, breathing the fresh matinal air. A beautiful black cat presents himself in front of the both of you, rubbing against your legs and purring loudly enough for you to hear.

A smile finally draws on your feature and you kneel to pat his head and scratch his chin. 

“Look, Jeongin ! He wants hugs, poor thing... You’re probably hungry... Jeongin nods, looking straight ahead. But it’s the first time I saw a black cat... Are they common here ? You turn your face to look at him with a smile but still, his mouth stay closed. Hm, yeah, I see... You whisper softly, a little discouraged by his constant silence with you, making you realize that you were really alone here.”

Still without a words, he resumes his walk towards the castle, silently asking you to follow him. And you did, with the cute animal on your step. You were playing with him, walking fast or slow to see if he was still behind you. A laugh escape your mouth seeing the fluffy cat struggling to follow your speed. Not that you were fast but he was a little bit confused.

You bump into someone not on purpose and immediately your blood went icy. Respectfully, and especially cause you were too scared to look at the demon in front of you, you bow your body so low it was almost painful for your back. But you better hurt yourself than being hurted by someone else. Especially in Hell.

“There, there, there... What do we have ? This voice... I knew you were stupid but not to the point of not looking where you are walking. His words were painful but you didn’t move an inch, not wanting to bother him even more. The cat behind you was meowing and if you could you would see the confusion on the man’s face. What’s this ? Jeongin, kill it.”

“No ! No, no ! N-no...? Your voice had suddenly risen to end up being very low. You lift up your chin to finally see Hyunjin in front of you. He was only dressed in a black silk bathrobe embroidered with golden pearls, his long hair was half-tied in a low ponytail and he was holding a glass of wine in his right hand. He... He doesn’t mean you any harm, Sir... He just wants a friend...? His laugh was cold and heartless and he was scanning your body up and down with his piercing eyes.”

Suddenly, you felt a cold sticky liquid running through your face and you just understood that he literally threw the wine in your face. Your lips were parted in shock and that’s the moment you could hear vicious laughs behind him. Of course, Lucifer’s son always need his public. He drops the glass on the ground, glass shattering into thousands of pieces near your feet. 

Hyunjin grabs the back of your neck, bringing your face close to his. Close enough to let his tongue slowly lick your cheek wet with wine.

“Remember when we first met, angel... What did I say ? A lot of things, actually. But you didn’t answer and he grab a handful of your hair.”

“That you wanted me ! A-and... That I was a mess... That you hated dirty things, Sir... You answer quickly with a shaking voice. He lets go of your face abruptly with a wide smile, nodding his face.”

“Yeah that’s it ! And what did you just make ? He pointed your face nonchalantly, making you whisper A mess with a tiny voice. A fucking mess, I hate it, in the name of Lucifer... I hate it ! His pupils were all black, you couldn’t even see the white in it. And you knew you messed up.”

He was hysterical and the screams, laughs and encouragements from the lower classes encourages him to act even more crazier. He grabs your wrist merciless to the applause of the crowd and he leads the two of you in the part of the castle which belongs to him.

Faster than you would have liked, you were in his room. It was always cold, not welcoming and way too dark for your eyes in need of nothing but sunshine. Hyunjin stayed silent but the creepy smile on his face was enough to makes you shiver in fear.

It was crazy how easily he switched from being insane to quiet.

Once you were in his private bathroom he made you look at you through the big golden mirror in front of the black marble bathtub. And you could see the damage, the deep red liquid running down your face, some strands of your hair are wet and the front of your black lace dress is also ruined with wine. You feel your back burning from his stares, and it’s even more humiliating than your physical condition.

“I think my angel needs to take a bath, don’t you ? You nod slowly, playing nervously with your fingers. What are you waiting for ? Go ahead.”

You look up at him leaning against the door frame, panicked. He raises an eyebrow and you shake your head. No, impossible. You probably misunderstood. Or he misspoke. How can you get naked in front of him ?

“Need some help, maybe ?” 

Still through the mirror you can see him approaching you to stand behind you. Your body was frozen, not that you were afraid, but you were mostly intimidated. Your aura may be a pink pale tone but his own was... Like a dark shade of the deepest blue. The ocean itself is bright compared to what emane from this demon. 

He puts your hair on the right side of your neck to have a full access of the left side one. His breath against your shivering skin was hot, and it probably burns you in the best way. The warmth and the softness of his lips against your skin were painful and you couldn’t help biting your lips and squeezing your eyes.

The inner fight you waged against yourself scared you more. Do you really want to push him away ? Or can’t you wait to be naked for him ?

Slowly, his long fingers trail the curve of your body, from your shoulders, to your waist, your hips, but strangely... Never your intimate parts. And you swear, at that right moment, you needed that more than you could ever imagine. Your body was squirming against his and slowly he grabs your chin with his thumb and forefinger.

“Look at you, angel. You open your eyes to see your back totally glued to his chest, making you blush in an instant. Don’t be shy with me, I told you. I’m your owner, there’s no need to be shy. You couldn’t stop looking at him and when he pushes his thumb against your lips you opened it to take it in your mouth and to start sucking it. He chuckles, nibbling your ear, his hot breath awakening all your senses. So nasty, are you really a child of God ?”

His last sentence makes you shiver. He was right. Did you deserve to be considered pure when you wanted him so badly ?

Hyunjin slowly untie your dress and the unknown feeling of being naked in front of someone was as arousing as scaring. Only his sharp eyes was touching you. As usual, he was looking at every details of your body and you can tell how badly he restrains himself to not put his hands all over your frame.

Why was he even nice ? He was almost hysteric few minutes ago. But the answer was evident... He was a demon, after all. They don’t need an excuse to act like crazy.

You didn’t move, looking shamefully at your body for reacting to every ones of his caresses, looks and words.

He takes you out of your mind, grabbing your wrist to lead you in the bathtub, hot smoke escaping from it due to the water. You put your body in it and you look at him undressing. He was as naked at you. His body was slim, his thighs and abdomen were muscular, his body was sculpted by the the God himself. 

How funny is it to think that when he’s the son of Lucifer himself.

It doesn't take long for him to join you, placing his body behind yours. You didn’t know if it was because of the water relaxing all of your nerves, or his strangely calm aura, but you felt good. Hyunjin grabs your shoulders to make your body leans against his, slipping his wet hands on your face to clean your features from the liquid that he himself threw at you. 

A little sigh escape your mouth and you allow yourself to pretend that you’re not in Hell. That you’re in your own room with all your green indoor plants surrouding you. You even have the impression that your favorite sugary smell is all over you, and you can even feel Felix scratching you neck and chin cause he knows how much you like that.

Wait... But you’re not in your room. And there’s no Felix.

Hyunjin started to kisses your neck slowly, licking your skin with the tip of his tongue, making you moan unintentionally. You open your eyes, ashamed of how pathetic you melt in the hand of the one and only Demon who can controls you. He probably feels your body tense and he starts to draw some invisible circles against your tummy.

“It’s funny how I want to protect you and ruin you at the same time. You bite your lips, gulping slowly just imagining the two situations. Yeah, it’s funny. How I want to take care of you, kiss you everywhere, makes you feel good. His words are accompanied by gentle caresses, he brushes your boobs with his fingertips, making you shiver and squirm against him. Even if he was behind you you can feel his gaze on your naked body exposed to him. How I want to hurt you in the goodest way, makes you beg and cry. He pinches one of your already hard nipple with two of his fingers and again, you moan softly. Isn’t it supposed to hurt ? Then why does it feels good ?”

He chuckles when he hear your voice, rubbing now your two buds in his digits. You can’t control your body and the sensation you’re feeling and quickly you came to the conclusion that you want more. You want to feel more, you want that heatness in your body to be more intense, to explode.

The back of your head falls against the crook of his neck and his strong woody smell makes you loose your mind. Hyunjin turns his head to put his forehead against yours while his fingers travel all around you naked figure against him. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere, it's like he can touch your whole body at the same time.

“Don’t stop looking at me. He whispers in a low voice, his eyes fixed on yours.”

You nod slowly even tho it’s difficult for you to stay focused when one of his hands glides along your exposed pubis. His other hand is still firmly gripped to your boob, massaging it in both a soft and harsh way. It was his power. To be gentle and rough.

Instinctively you open your legs. More, more, more. That’s all you can think about right now. And it seems that he exactly understand what you want. More. His long fingers run through your womanhood, wet because of the water, but not only. You can feel how burning it is, how good it feels when he slides them against your two intimates lips. More. You try to keep your eyes open as much as possible to not break the intense contact you’re sharing. A little oh escape your lips when he circles his fingers around that tiny, little, swollen bud. More, you want more.

“You don’t have that in Heaven, uh ? You never felt that good, did you ? You shake your head, half closed eyelids due to everything you’re feeling. That’s the real Heaven, angel.”

His wide black dilated pupils were magneficient, you couldn’t even think of looking away. He continues to rubs your most sensitive area and the hot water just help everything to be more soother and slicker. He teases your nipple, kissing the tip of your nose with a smirk drawns on his beautiful lips and you start to buck your hips up to feel more of the frictions he was offering to you. Slowly, you grip his wrist to push his hands even more against your intimate area. He chuckles, again, at your eagerness and soft moans crash on his lips when he taps your pussy. It was tickling, weird, but oh so good at the same time.

Slowly he grabs your waist to turn your body around so that you are facing him. And it’s even more intimidating to see Hyunjin with his eyes totally lost in the luxurious world. Almost automatically you stick your body to him, surrounding his waist with your legs.

If only you know that doing that made your pussy crash against his, you can really feel it, hard and pretty long dick. Your cheeks were now probably a bright tint of red. And you can see that he wasn’t in a better state.

“S-sorry ! I didn’t meant to do that, Sir !”

“Don’t be sorry, angel. Do it again, can you ? You nod slowly, pressing your two hands on his shoulders to give you a little bit of support. You move your hips slowly against his body, his hard-on hitting your core everytime you moved. Yeah, just like that, keep going... How does it feel ?”

Your only answer was to nod again and bite your lips. It felt too good to be real. Your two bodies stick together were hot and you swear, the burning flames in Hell wasn’t as hot as you. One of Hyunjin’s hand was grabbing your waist to help you move and grind above him while the other one found their way to your exposing neck. 

All of your body was covered with shivers and you didn’t know if the cause was his eyes on you, his hands gripping your throat without squeezing it, or your core sticking and rubbing on his rosy tip. 

“You’re mine. You can hear his hoarse voice whispering in your ear as he still grab your throat in a possessive way while his hand on your waist tighten it firmly. You’re mine. I choose you not only cause I know you were obedient... His hips buck up into yours, making the both of you crash your crotch together in a moaning symphony. Because I knew you were going to love it a lot more than you should.”

You felt light-headed for a moment. Hyunjin’s words was arousing, making you feel like the dirtiest angel. And it was too much. Too much new sensations for your body. The knot in your stomach were growing to the point that it was consuming you so you speed your own pace, helped by his hands, his breath, his moans, even his praises “pretty, hot, good girl” were the only words you were focused on. You felt enveloped by your devastating orgasm, your face leans back and a silent moan escapes your parted lips. It was difficult for you to keep your eyes open, your bordy starts to shake against his and you scratch his shoulders to hold on to reality. It was insanely good to be on cloud nine, a soft smile draws on your lip as every muscles of your body relaxed and tensed at the same time. 

You feel him chasing his own high, patting his veiny and leaking dick on your swollen and overstimulated bud. You wanted to escape his touch as much as you wanted him to keep doing that delicious feeling.

You let yourself totally go in his arms when the both of you come back down from your high. Hyunjin was as breathless as you and he rubs your back in slow caresses, kissing your temples with a little grin.

“I bet Felix never made you feel that way. You frowned your eyebrows, why was he talking about Felix now ? You lift your face to look up at him in a confused way. Oh, you probably didn’t know... You shake your head slowly. He was my servant. You both have the same disgusting sugary smell. ”

Your jaws dropped and you blink your eyes. Felix, the purest heart you have ever known was once... A demon ?

—————————————☠︎︎ —————————————

    ━ TAGLIST ; @sailorhyunjinz - @minholuvs - @that-anxious-bisexual - @ohmysparkle - @yuminsung - @minaamhh - @kittykatvenom - @bubblelixie - @imagineinnie - @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot - @etherealeeknow - @linours - @starry-jinnie @p0t4t0don14ll - @straytannies - @binnie-m00n - @formidxble - @skzcvre - @titleisyettobemade - @bythesunnotbythemoon - @nada-disso - @characha - @lizsvcks - @pxnidxjks - @ninjaleeknow - @solistired - @keloiu - @staaaaaa - @journalskz - @bubbl3gunz - @tinyminari - @hyuneytoast - @s4ilor-m4rs (if you want to be added to the taglist feel free to send me an ask!)

[starshine583]

New Girl on the Block (19)

(Hey, everyone!!! Thank you so much for your patience while I was away. It’s good to be back! I hope you all enjoy this next chapter!)

Ch. 1 / Ch. 18 / Ch. 20 (ao3)

Chapter 19: A Date with Misery

“Marinette, you are.. an incredible person.”

“You don’t need anyone to validate how amazing you are.”

“You are talented, kind, and capable all on your own.”

Felix’s words from the night before played over in Marinette’s mind again and again, an endless loop that she found herself incapable of escaping, and with each echo, her heart seemed to melt further than she thought possible. The comments were simply too honey-sweet, too sincere. She couldn’t help reveling in them. How long had he thought of her that way? How long had he placed her on such a high pedestal that she wasn’t aware of? Marinette knew that Felix had a tendency to make unexpected comments every now and then, but last night truly caught her off guard.. and perhaps made her just a tad bit love-stricken. Had he always spoken to her in that soft manner, the one that made her believe she could be the very stars in his night sky? Had he always possessed the ability to send her heart fluttering the way it did last night, when he allowed her to pull him onto the dance floor and hold him incredibly close? She had no way of knowing, and certainly not enough nerve to ask aloud. But, oh, how her mind ran rampant with fantasies anyway. Will she ever be able to dance with him like that again? Would he look at her the same way he had then, with eyes that felt soft as a cloud in the moment? Did he go home last night and think about her too, endlessly turning on his bed and glancing at his diary- if he kept one, that is -and thinking maybe just one more entry-

“Marinette?” 

Marinette jumped, nearly falling off of the ladder that she’d been balancing on, and felt a blush explode across her cheeks.

“Nothing! What? I mean-” She flailed her arms a bit to regain balance, then peeked down at the person below, the very boy she’d been fantasizing about “-Did you need something?”

Felix stood at the base of the ladder, his brows furrowed slightly. “..No. I just wanted to know if there was something wrong with your heart.”

Marinette sputtered, her blush deepening considerably. She couldn’t have been that obvious, right? What expression was she making before he came over? 

“M-My heart?” She asked- or rather, squeaked.

Felix pointed to a stream of hearts on the wall, the ones she was supposed to be taking down. “You were staring at one of the hearts for quite a while. Is it ripped?”

“Oh.” She said, staring blankly at the wall. The paper hearts. He meant the paper hearts hanging next to her. Not her heart specifically. That made a lot more sense. “No, sorry. The hearts are fine. I was just, uh.. you know.. reminiscing. We had a lot of fun times with these decorations.”

“Ah,” Felix tilted his head up in a slight nod, “my apologies for interrupting you then.”

“Oh, you didn’t.” Marinette assured hastily. “It really wasn’t anything important.”

Definitely wasn’t anything important..

She plucked out the pin that held the hearts and started down the ladder to move to the other end of the stream. Felix offered a hand to help her down in the process, and she took it, strongly ignoring the tingling sensation that came from doing so. 

“If you’d like to keep one as a memorial, I’m sure Allegra wouldn’t mind.” He remarked. “I doubt she’s going to keep any of these things herself after all the parties they’ve had.”

Marinette hummed. Keeping a heart streamer as a memorial, huh? That didn’t sound like a bad idea. 

“Thanks. I just might do that.”

Felix gave her the tiniest of smiles, the kind Marinette was used to catching at this point, and slipped his hand out of hers when her feet hit the ground. She clasped her hands together afterwards to compensate, also ignoring the fact that it might have been nice for him to hold her hand just a tad bit longer.

“Would you like help moving the ladder?” He asked, to which she shook her head.

“I’ve got it, but if you could move the box over to the other round table while I move the ladder, I would be grateful.”

Allegra had given her an empty box to put the decorations in as she took them off of the wall. So far, Marinette had exactly.. zero decorations in the box. Gosh, how long had she been staring at that heart? Was she going insane? Why would she even be thinking about Felix this way? He’d just told her last night that he wasn’t interested in romance. Falling for him would be guaranteed heartbreak! It would be completely ridiculous! It would.. It would..

It would probably be inevitable.

Felix was just too sweet to her, too kind. He was always looking out for her and supporting her, always sharing his quiet laughs and amused smiles, and he said too many things that made her head spin for her not to start liking him. There was just no escape! It was going to happen eventually. The only question now was when.

And maybe today was her answer.

Stop it. Marinette scolded herself as she picked up the ladder to walk it over. It’s just some butterflies in your stomach. How many of those did you digest around Adrien?

Marinette froze midstep, an immense sense of horror washing over her. Oh, gosh, this wasn’t going to be another Adrien situation, was it? It couldn’t be. She refused to go through that again. At least not this soon.

Marinette continued walking, if only to avoid Felix’s suspicions, and set up the ladder under the next pin that was holding up her stream. 

When you think about it, this really can’t be another Adrien situation, right? With Adrien, she had no idea whether he liked her or not, but was hopeful despite that and used her friends in an effort to gain his attention. With Felix, she already had her answer. She knew for a fact that he didn’t like her romantically, that he wouldn’t ever like her romantically, and she also hadn’t asked any of her new friends to help her gain Felix’s attention. (Though, in all honesty, she probably wouldn’t need help even if she was looking for his attention, because he already gave it to her willingly on a constant basis, but that thought didn’t exactly help her cause.)

“Is here alright?” Felix asked as he set the box on the end of the round table.

Marinette nodded, scaling the ladder to pluck the next pin. “Yep. That’s great, thank you.”

“Of course. If you need anything else, I’ll be wrapping the candles and putting them in boxes.”

“Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.” She said, pulling a smile. 

No, this wasn’t going to be anything like her crush on Adrien. This time she at least had closure before she began, and although it might be just as heart-shattering in the long run, she won’t be wasting her time wondering “what if” or tripping over herself to become his dream girl in an effort to be ‘chosen’. She’ll simply be his friend, as he’s been to her, and if she’s lucky, this sort-of-tiny-little crush of hers will wither away before it grows into a bigger problem. 

After all, it’s like Felix said: She’ll find someone new who appreciates her eventually. It just.. won’t be him. The sooner she took this lesson to heart, the better.

Marinette plucked the next pin out of the wall, watching the stream of hearts fall into the box below, and started back down the ladder again. That’s one down. Five to go.

She paused at the bottom of the ladder, ready to pull it together so she could pick it up and move it again, when her phone started buzzing in her pocket. She quickly shimmied it out to check what the buzzing was for, only to be met with the flashing words “Adrien Agreste - Café”.

It was her alarm clock telling her that it was time to go meet Adrien for lunch. And it couldn’t have picked a worse time. She still had five other heart streamers to take down, and at this rate she was going to have to run half way across town just to make it on time. Ugh- why didn’t she set her alarm clock earlier?

“Hey, guys?” She called out to the group, tucking her phone back into her pocket. “I hate to say it, but I actually need to get going. I’m sorry I couldn’t help out more.”

If she hadn’t stopped every two seconds to daydream about somebody-

“Oh, don’t worry about it!” Allegra called back with a smile. “You’ve helped out plenty.”

“Yeah,” Claude agreed. “This was our party anyway.”

“I know, but I only managed to get one of the streamers down.” Marinette sighed.

“But you also helped fold all of the tablecloths and put them away.” Allan reminded her.

“And you swept the room after the trash was taken care of.” Allegra added.

“Go have fun at your appointment thing or whatever. We’ve got everything covered here.” Claude assured, emptying the water from another flower vase.

Marinette smiled as she grabbed her purse from one of the round tables. Her friends were so great, each and every one of them. 

“I’ll see you guys later then.”

“See ya!”

“Bye, Mari!”

“Do you want me to call my driver for you?” Felix asked, briefly setting his candles aside. “It’s quite a walk from here to your house, isn’t it?”

“Thanks, but I’m good. I can have Maman and Papa come to pick me up if I start running late.” Or she can transform into Ladybug and swing right over to Adrien herself, which was exactly what she planned on doing. “I’ll text you guys when I get there, though.”

That seemed to satisfy Felix, because he nodded and continued placing his candles in the box. “I’ll be waiting to hear from you then.” 

Marinette pursed her lips and spun towards the door, hoping he didn’t notice the fresh blush that was creeping across her cheeks. Gosh, how was she ever going to survive this boy? Maybe Adrien’s presence will give her a good slap in the face and bring her back to her senses.. She highly doubted it though. With her track record, she’ll probably end up falling for Adrien again too, and then she’ll be stuck between two unrequited crushes! Great!

..Why does she always have to fall for the people who don’t love her back?

~~~~~~~

Wind rushed past Chat Noir’s face as he raced across the rooftops, his grin stretching wide from ear to ear. Today was the day! It was finally the fifteenth! In just a few short blocks, he was going to meet Marinette at their agreed café, and they were going to have a whole lunch together just to themselves! It made him buzz with excitement at the very thought, because finally his plans were progressing. Finally he was gonna have a long, drawn out chat with Marinette as Adrien, and perhaps, if he had gained even the slightest bit of luck from his partner, he would be able to convince her to transfer back to Dupont. Or at least have her consider it. She probably shouldn’t come back right this second. 

Chat Noir landed on a rooftop and slid down the tiles with glee, but before he could leap to the next rooftop, a red and black-spotted figure flew out in front of him. He stumbled back with a yelp, staring at the person with wide eyes as they sailed onto the rooftop across from him. Was that..?

“My Lady?” He called out, pushing himself back onto his feet. What was she doing out at this time of day? It wasn’t like her to be out and about during daylight when no akumas were present.

Unless there is an akuma. Chat realized with horror. He glanced around the city, looking for explosions or destruction of some kind. Please, let there not be an akuma. That would mean he’d have to skip out on his lunch with Marinette! And he’d worked so hard just to get her there!

The spotted figure turned around- proving that it was, in fact, his wonderful Ladybug -and flashed him her signature, Lady-Luck smile. “Oh, Chat Noir! I didn’t realize you would be out today.”

Chat Noir returned her smile and hopped over to her rooftop. “I could say the same to you, Bugaboo. Is an akuma on the loose again?”

“No, not that I’m aware of.” She assured, to his relief. “I just had some free time and thought I would do a small patrol around the city to make sure everything’s still in order.”

Chat Noir chuckled. That’s His Lady for you. Never ceasing to protect Paris. Could she ever become more amazing?

“Sounds like a great idea. I’d be tempted to join you, but I’m actually on my way home already. I’ve been out for a while.” He said, though none of it was true. He hadn’t been out for a while, and he certainly wasn’t running home, but Ladybug was extremely strict on the ‘keeping identities a secret’ policy. If he let something about his civilian life slip- like, say, meeting someone at a cafe about five minutes from now to talk about school transfers -she’d get upset and scold him for divulging too much information. It wasn’t fun lying to the person he was supposed to trust the most, but this was the set up that they’d decided to use. 

“That’s alright. I wasn’t planning on staying out long anyway.” Ladybug replied. “I’ll see you during our next patrol?”

“Or attack.” Chat Noir agreed, giving her a little wink before he took off again. This time he turned to the left of the café, moving in a direction that was somewhat opposite of it. He didn’t want Ladybug seeing where he was going- again, secret identities -but, he also didn’t want to stray too far from his and Marinette’s meeting place, or else he was going to be late. So, he figured he could find a comfortable alleyway about a block or two away from his destination and simply run the rest of the way on foot.

Thank goodness he did, because as soon as he turned left, Ladybug swung off in the exact direction he’d originally been heading. Can you imagine if they’d started going the same way? The explanation for that one would have been awful, he’s sure.

Chat Noir dropped down into an alleyway a few minutes later, just as planned, and detransformed back into Adrien. Running around Paris in his civilian form probably wasn’t going to be any easier than jumping rooftops, but at least he didn’t run into any problems with His Lady. That was a plus, right?

“Ugh,” Plagg groaned as he swirled back into the air, “remind me again why we had to waste my precious energy on a lunch date?”

“Come on, Plagg, you know I hate having Gorilla hover over my shoulder.” Adrien said, offering his kwami a slice of cheese. Gorilla does his best to give Adrien as much space as possible, but still, when you know someone is there specifically to watch you.. “Besides, it’ll give Marinette and I more privacy while we talk.”

Plagg gave a dismissive sigh as he snatched the cheese from Adrien’s hands. “Oh, that’s right. We’re still on pigtails.. I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with her. It’s not like she died or anything.”

Adrien frowned. “I’m not obsessed. I’m just trying to be a good friend. She’s always been there for all of us. So why shouldn’t I be there for her?”

“Mm.. Does this really count as being there for her, though?” Plagg asked as he shoved the first half of the cheese into his mouth. 

“What do you mean?”

“You’re trying to be there for her by bringing her back to Dupont, right? Well, she seems perfectly happy at her new school to me. So why not leave her be? If you want to be there for her, don’t you think you should be supporting her decisions?”

A bit of guilt festered in Adrien’s chest, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “I.. get what you’re saying, but I want her back too. I want to hang out again and talk like we used to.”

“You’re about to talk with her right now.” 

“You know what I mean. I want to talk with her daily, like we do at school.”

“Then, why don’t you transfer schools?”

Adrien let out a small chuckle. “And leave Nino? I couldn’t do that to him.”

“Okay~, but don’t say I didn’t warn you if things don’t work out the way you want them to.” Plagg said. He then shoved the rest of the cheese into his mouth and zipped into Adrien’s shirt pocket.

Adrien furrowed his eyebrows, but didn’t reply, instead starting for the cafe. Why would Plagg say something like that? Of course everything was going to work out! Yes, Marinette was happy at her new school, and yes, getting her to come back to Dupont might be a tad tricky (especially since he had to deal with Lila first) but that didn’t mean his plan was going to fail. He simply needed to remind Marinette that she loved being at Dupont too! More so than Rosemary even! It’ll be alright. Plagg will see.

With little time to spare, Adrien booked it to the café, careful to keep his head down and not catch the eyes of the media. Thankfully, he made it there in one piece, albeit five minutes late. It should be fine, though. If anyone were to understand missing the mark for an appointment, it would be her, right?

Adrien slipped his phone out of his pocket as he walked inside to check for any new messages from the ravenette, then silenced it when he saw that there were none. He didn’t want this precious time to be interrupted. 

The bell on the café door jingled above him when he entered, reminding him of a certain bakery. He glanced around the room for Marinette hopefully, then lit up when he caught sight of a pair of ravenette pigtails at a table in the middle of the room. Yes! She was here!

Adrien wasted no time strolling over the table, tapping the top of her head to get her attention. She jumped- as she usually does -and whirled around with wide eyes.

“Hey, Marinette.” He greeted with a smile.

“Adrien!” She said, letting out a nervous laugh. “Y-You’re here.”

“Yeah!” He chirped, slipping into the seat across from her. “Sorry I’m late. I ran into a bit of traffic on the way here. How have you been? Did you have a good Valentine’s Day?”

Marinette settled back into her chair as well, pulling a small, tight smile. “It’s alright.. I’ve been pretty good, and my Valentine’s Day was wonderful. How was yours?”

“Oh, you know,” Adrien shrugged, “same as always. I got some cards from a few fans and did a special photoshoot for my father, but that was about it. I tried to go see Nino or something, but he was with Alya, so..”

“Aw, I’m sorry. I wish it could have worked out better.”

“No, it’s fine.” He quickly assured. “I’m used to it. Besides, Nino and I have actually been hanging out a lot more during the winter break.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, “That’s good then. You deserve the free time.”

Adrien smiled. What a very ‘Marinette’ thing to say. “Thanks. Have you ordered anything yet?”

She shook her head. “No, I figured I’d wait for you.”

“Then let’s go get some food.” He said, standing from the table again. “I’m starving.”

Marinette stood with him, and they made their way over to the line that led to the service counter. It wasn’t long, thankfully, only holding about three people or so. They should be back at the table in no time.

“So, are you enjoying your new school life? I heard you transferred to Rosemary.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been having a great time,” Marinette said, a bit too cheerful for Adrien’s liking, “but I do have a question. How did you know I transferred to Rosemary?”

“Oh, uh..” 

Would she accept ‘my good friend Chat Noir’ as a proper answer?

“..Mlle Bustier. She announced to the class that you had transferred, and when I asked about it afterwards, she told me that you went to Rosemary.”

A hum came from Marinette, the corner of her lips tugging downwards. Why was she frowning? Did he say something wrong?

“Is that a problem?” He asked.

“Oh! No.” Marinette replied hastily. “Well.. sort of. I’m just worried that if she told you, then she’d be willing to tell other people.. Like Lila or Alya.”

Ah.. She made a good point. Her whereabouts could be spread around easily if Mlle Bustier was being loose-lipped. Although he doubted that Lila would come after Marinette since she’s not trying to out her anymore, Adrien wouldn’t put it past the girl entirely, especially since she was still spreading rumors about Marinette on a regular basis..

Granted, this only mattered if Mlle Bustier actually told him where Marinette went to school, which she didn’t. So they should be perfectly safe for the time being.

“I’m sure everything will be fine.” He insisted. “I was the only one that asked, anyway, and I made sure we were alone.”

Marinette nodded, but she didn’t look any less unsettled. “You’re sure you were the only one that asked?”

“Positive.”

“.. Okay.” She muttered, fiddling with the tip of her black jacket. Oh, she was getting anxious now! He needed to fix this. Change the subject!

“Anyway, you said your new school was great?” He asked as he stepped forward in line. “That’s good to hear. Have you made any friends there yet?”

Of course, he already knew that she’d made new friends- several, in fact -but hopefully talking about them would help her relax. Plus, it would give him more information on her new environment. So it’s a double bonus.

Marinette took the bait, her hands quickly falling back to her side as she said, “I have. I was fortunate enough to run into a whole group of friends on my first day, and they took me in without hesitation, which was sweet. They even gave me a tour of the school and everything.”

Adrien plastered a tight smile onto his face in an effort to show support. She already had an entire group of new friends? That was gonna be hard to pull her away from.  

“Wow, they sound really nice. You’ll have to introduce me to them sometime.”

“Maybe I can,” Marinette agreed, “but it probably won’t be for a while. We all have schedules and things that we’d need to work out, and I’ve been working on this fashion project lately that I was hoping to get done by the end of next week.”

“No worries. I definitely understand having a busy schedule.” Adrien joked, stepping forward in the line again. “Dupont’s been a little crazy since you left too. We had to pick a new vice president and everything.”

“Yeah, I heard. Lila had to come by and grab the books.” Marinette said bitterly.

Adrien winced. “Really? What did she say?”

“Gosh, I don’t even remember anymore.” Marinette rolled her eyes. “I try not to worry over stupid people. I’m sure she just rubbed her ‘victory’ towards me leaving in my face.”

Adrien chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I bet.. Lila aside, though, we all miss you. Dupont isn’t the same without you here.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him as they took another step forward in line. “You all miss me?”

Adrien frowned, partly because she doubted him, but mostly because he knew her skepticism was justified. They didn’t all miss her. Some- if not everyone besides himself -seemed to be happy that she was gone. It was a true tragedy.

“Well.. I miss you.” He said, his heart dropping further when she gave a satisfied nod. She’s already accepted the tragedy as fact, something unchanging, but he was going to work to make things different. 

“Can I take your order?” The cashier cut in, grabbing the pair’s attention.

Adrien and Marinette gave the cashier their order and walked back to their table to wait for their names being called.

“So..” Adrien trailed off as they took their seats. “Do.. you miss us?”

He knew it was a risky question, especially since she’d firmly told Chat Noir a month prior that she did not, in fact, miss Dupont, but maybe her opinion had changed since then?

Marinette shifted in her seat, clearly uncomfortable. “I.. I’m not sure how to answer that, Adrien. How can I say that I miss the people who treated me like a monster for no other reason than the fact that I decided to stand up against a liar? I get that Lila twisted their views, and that everyone has their own version of a story, but it still hurt for them not to believe me even though most of us have known each other since childhood.”

“Do I miss the fun times and the people they used to be before Lila came along? Sure I do, but they’re not the people they used to be. They’re not the friends I grew up with anymore, and I’m not going to regret leaving a situation that wasn’t good for me.”

Adrien sighed. “Alright.. That’s a fair answer.. But what if they did come back? I mean- like - What if they realized that Lila was lying and came back and apologized and everything went back to normal. Would you come back?”

Marinette frowned. “.. I don’t know. What you’re suggesting is extremely far-fetched, and even if everything did go back to ‘normal’, it still wouldn’t quite be the same. They abandoned me for a foreigner. You can’t really come back from that. Plus, I think Rosemary is a great opportunity for me. It’s a prestigious school with extensive classes on the fashion industry and many other things, and although there can be some snooty, rich students, most of the people I’ve met there are really nice.”

Adrien hummed. Her answer was, once again, disheartening, but he took comfort in the fact that she said ‘I don’t know’ instead of just a straight up ‘no’. That was at least something, right? He could work with an ‘I don’t know’.

“Was this all you wanted to talk with me about?” Marinette asked. “Whether or not I would come back to Dupont?”

Adrien winced. “Well, no-”

Yes.

“-I also just wanted to catch up in general. We haven’t really seen each other in over a month, ya know?”

Although she appeared to be hesitant towards his answer, she gave a small smile anyway. “Yeah, it’s definitely been a while.”

Adrien chuckled. “You know, I actually tried to go visit you at Rosemary one time before this, but when I asked a student where you were, he said that you didn’t even attend the school. Had you two just not met yet?”

“Uh.. Can you describe him? There’s a lot of people at the school.”

“Sure. He was about my height, maybe a bit taller, with pale blonde hair and light eyes- I think. He was kind of  just pale in general.”

Marinette snorted. “Do you know the amount of people at the school that could match that description?”

“Okay, okay, uhm.. I think he was wearing dark colors that day. Like, greys or blacks maybe.”

“Wears dark colors, but has light hair and eyes, and is tall. Got it.” Marinette smiled. “Sorry, Adrien, but I’m just not sure. That could be Devin or Caleb or Eliot or any other number of boys. It could have even been someone who’s not in my classes.”

“Right, that’s fine. I was just curious.” He said casually, though it was really eating him alive. He knew that they knew each other. They had to! No one gets that upset during an akuma attack and calls the person their friend without knowing them. The guy even mentioned that their mutual friends were waiting for them! So who could it be? 

“Order for Adrien and Marinette Dupain-Cheng!”

Adrien stood. “I’ll get it.”

Honestly, he didn’t need to know the guy’s name. It was a bitter inconvenience, to be sure, but in the end, finding out the blond-haired dude’s name isn’t the objective. The objective was to get rid of Lila, then get Marinette to come back to Dupont. She might be hesitant about it now, which was understandable, but once she sees the changes that he’s gonna make at Dupont, she’ll be more than happy to come back. He simply needed to open her up to the idea again.

Lucky for him, he had a whole lunch date to do just that.

~~~~~~

Lila slowed to a stop on the sidewalk, panting and out of breath. She searched the city streets from left to right, but was only met with the scenery of a regular, Paris afternoon. Where were the screaming fans? The paparazzi? The bodyguards holding everyone back? Did they all disperse already? That post was literally made five minutes ago! How did he run away so fast?

She pulled out her phone to unlock it, watching as her social media popped up again. It was a picture of XY standing next to a downtown café, the very café Lila was standing next to right now.

“Chillin’ at the Café Aroma today!” The post read, but there was no XY in sight. There were hardly even any XY fans here looking for him. Was the post just a ruse to get rid of the paparazzi for a while? Don���t tell her she got up and ran all the way down here for nothing!

Lila let out a groan, slumping against the café. If XY or any of his lackeys bothered to answer their dang cell phones, none of this would’ve happened! Why would they even put out public numbers if they weren’t going to tend to them? It was really a jerk-ish thing to do.

Nevertheless, she still needed to find a way to contact him. XY was the only celebrity in Paris that might be willing to show up at Dupont per her request. Jagged Stone was a close second, but if she brought him to school, Lila was certain Adrien would ask about her stupid, kitten-saving story. Then, Jagged would get all confused and say that he never had a kitten, and Lila would have a lot more explaining to do. That was too much of a hassle for her to deal with. She needed someone she hadn’t lied much about, someone who could also quiet her whining, soul-sucking classmates. Ergo, she needed to find XY.

But where is he? Lila thought, scrolling through her phone for more recent posts. XY clearly wasn’t downtown, meaning he could be just about anywhere in Paris. He could even be outside of Paris. How was she supposed to find him when she had no special contacts to do so? It was like looking for a needle in a haystack. 

And yet.. Marinette managed to find and reign in every celebrity she needed while she was class president. On. Her. Own.

Lila scowled and shoved her phone back into her pocket. Curse that goody-little-two-shoes for making her job harder. Curse her for somehow being perfect at everything and forcing Lila to enhance her lies to compete. Curse her for leaving to another school and making Lila suffer the consequences for it. Why couldn't Marinette have been a normal class president, hm? Why did she have to constantly outdo herself with the grandest of gestures and the most important of people? Why did Lila have to be so stupid as to try and fill an impossible roll? She should have convinced Alya to run for president instead. At least then she wouldn’t be blamed for the sudden budget cuts or the mismatched class trips. She would be able to continue lying in peace and not have to worry about delivering on all of her false promises. In fact, if she weren’t so busy trying to keep up with Marinette’s ‘legacy’, along with her own big mouth, she might have been able to take care of Adrien by now.

Lila heaved a heavy sigh and massaged her temples as she stood up from the café wall. XY wasn’t going to be found anytime soon, so she might as well take a break and grab a coffee before moving forward. Perhaps the caffeine will spark her creativity for a few lies that Adrien can’t dig into should her plan to find XY fail.

She walked over to the café door and pushed it open. The bell attached to the door jingled, reminding her of that incorrigible bakery, but she ignored it and continued inside. A little music toy wasn’t going to get in the way of her espresso.

Her eyes grazed over the room, hoping to find an empty table.

What she found instead, however, made her stomach drop.

There, sitting at a table near the middle of the room, was Adrien Agreste himself, and sitting across from him was none other than Marinette Dupain-Cheng. 

Lila yelped and ducked back outside, pressing herself firmly against the wall where they couldn’t see her. What were they doing there? What were they doing together?!

Carefully, she crept past the door and slid over to the large window at the front of the café, where she could watch the two from a safe distance. It probably looked suspicious to anyone passing, but she hardly cared at that point. If Adrien and Marinette were getting together like this, Lila was going to have much bigger things to worry about.

She peered through the glass, noting the near-empty plates on their table. They must be having lunch together. Did they do that often? Since when? What could they possibly be talking about?

A smirk tugged at the corner of Adrien’s lips, and Marinette snorted, putting a hand on her mouth to hide her laughter. Ugh, why did she look so cheery! She was supposed to be miserable!

Lila scoffed, digging her fingernails into the brick at the base of the window. What happened to the endless tears and the defeated, sagging posture? What happened to the shriveled up nothing that Lila watched leave the school? Was she really enjoying herself now that she wasn’t attending Dupont? More importantly, how long have Marinette and Adrien been meeting up like this? Was this the reason Adrien suddenly decided to fight back against her? Because he’d rekindled his friendship with Marinette? No wonder the man was out for blood! Marinette probably set him up to the task herself! She must have planned all of this from the very beginning!

No, Lila thought, digging her phone out of her pocket again. She refused to be made a fool of. If they thought they were going to pull one over on her this easily, they were gonna have another thing coming. 

She snapped a photo of them together, making sure to get a moment where they were laughing hard, and tilted the angle of the camera to make it seem like she’d been passing by. Lila then got up and walked back into the café. A picture of Adrien having a grand time with Marinette should be enough of a set up for her to build him a bad reputation, but she needed to know what they were talking about specifically. The more she knew about this meet-up (and previous ones) the better, and if she were anything close to lucky, they would talk about their plans for her while she was there too. That would give her plenty of time to find a way to prepare. 

Or, perhaps, strike first.

As casually as possible, Lila slipped into an empty seat near the pair, not too close, but not too far away that she couldn’t hear them. She then snatched the menu on her table and propped it up so her face couldn’t be seen while she listened.

“Okay, wait. So you’re telling me that they threw an entire Valentine’s Day party at the Mandarin Oriental by themselves?” She heard Adrien ask. He sounded immensely impressed. Who were they talking about?

“Yeah!” Marinette replied, the smile clear in her voice. “They’re parents paid for it, of course, but they arranged everything themselves, including the caterers and reservations. We actually made some of the decorations by hand too.”

“Wow, that sounds like a blast. I bet they all looked great.”

“They did! Especially when we finished the lights and stuff. Everyone loved it.”

Lila scrunched up her nose, equally confused and annoyed. Someone threw a party at the Mandarin Oriental for Valentine’s day? Who? Why was Marinette invited? And why did she get to personally help with the decorations? This wasn’t another one of her “chummy celebrity friends”, was it? It better not be.

Adrien chuckled. “If all of those rich kids at Rosemary enjoyed it, I’m sure it was something.”

Lila froze. Did he just say “all” of the rich kids? Meaning multiple? Why was Marinette hanging out with multiple rich kids? How was she hanging out with multiple rich kids? Were they inviting her to the parties they were throwing? Why? What did she have that was so freaking special? 

Wait a minute. 

Her raging thought finally caught up with the rest of Adrien’s comment, specifically the one about Rosemary. Wasn’t that the stuck-up school near the middle of Paris that was famously known for hosting either incredibly rich or incredibly gifted students? The one that barely let you breathe in their direction if you weren’t considered “worthy”? How did Marinette end up wandering around there long enough to catch some rich friends? No one’s allowed inside except for students or staff, and their policies are extremely strict. (she should know, considering she’s tried to weasel her way in there several times.) The only way she would be able to get inside was if-

Lila gasped, nearly dropping her menu in the process.

No.. No, no way Marinette got transferred from Dupont to Rosemary. That would just be absurd! She didn’t have any money! And she certainly didn’t have enough talent to be accepted despite that! 

But as Lila listened to the conversation more and more, she had to endure the horrible realization that Marinette had, in fact, been transferred to Rosemary. Not only that, she was thriving there. She was making new friends who gave her rides in limos. She was going to fancy restaurants that cost more than Lila’s house for an afternoon snack. She was having slumber parties in mansions. Mansions! Entire estates that were apparently just as big- if not bigger! -than Adrien Agreste’s!

Lila had finally gotten rid of Marinette and won Dupont, only for Marinette to gain the new life that Lila had always dreamed of having! How was that fair? How was any of this fair!

Lila drew in a long, deep breath, trying to calm her nerves. She couldn’t blow her top just yet. Marinette may be winning right now, but once Adrien is out of the way, Lila will make sure that Marinette suffers the way she deserves. Rosemary isn’t going to save her for long.

She pulled out her phone to unlock it and clicked on the messaging app, scrolling down until she found her favorite minion: Alya Cessaire. 

~Hey, you’ll never guess what I just saw!!~ 

Lila smiled as she sent the text. With a message like that, Alya won’t be able to help her curiosity, and when Lila sends the picture of Adrien and Marinette together, the journalist will fall headfirst into a pool of rage. 

In other words, that pampered little rich boy won’t know what hit him.

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

(Hey, everyone! This section isn’t quite part of the story, but it’s going to be part of the updates from now on. Two weeks ago, I visited a Bible camp, and the Lord really spoke to my heart through the messages. So, from now on, I want to make Him the center of my life and glorify Him in everything I do. At first, I thought of not writing anymore fics or chapters, since doing so would really take my focus away from Him, but instead, I decide to start writing little devotions at the end of each chapter I post. That way, you all won’t have to suffer through an incomplete story, and I get to share the wonderful gospel with you all!

The first devotion I want to post is the message of salvation and how you can know that you’re going to Heaven when you die. The Bible (King James Version) says in Romans 3:23 “For all have sinned and come short of the glory of God.” and the first part of Romans 6:23 says “For the wages of sin is death”. We have all had a moment in our lives where we know we’re not supposed to do something, but we do it anyway. That breaking of rules is called a sin, and because of that sin, God says that we are not fit to be in His presence, for He is a just and holy God. So, due to this, our souls are condemned to the fiery prison known as Hell, where it is pitch black around you, and the only thing you can hear is wailing and weeping and gnashing of teeth. Your soul will be alight with fire, but your body will never actually burn, so you will be faced with that pain for the rest of eternity. Can you imagine that? Being in that kind of torment forever and ever and ever and knowing that it will never end? I can’t wrap my brain around that kind of pain, and I certainly don’t want any of you to have to endure it. So that’s why I’m telling you now that there is a bright side to all of this!

John 3:16 says “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.” and the other part of Romans 6:23 says “but the gift of God is eternal life”. Do you realize what this means? It means we don’t have to go to Hell! God has provided a way of escape for us!

2,021 years ago, God sent his Son, Jesus Christ, down to earth to die for us. He was a perfect man, with no sin about Him, but he became sin for us and sacrificed himself so that we could be saved. People beat him and mauled him to point beyond recognition, then they nailed him to a cross for him to die. The pain he had to endure was excruciating, but he did it for us, because he loves us.

Then, three days after the Son of God passed away, he arose from the grave with new life! and because of that, we now have a way to join Him in heaven! All we have to do is admit that we are a sinner, repent of our sins, and accept Jesus Christ into our hearts as our Lord and Savior. We must believe on Him, and believe that he died on the cross for us, then we won’t have to go to Hell! It’s that easy! And those who believe on the Lord Jesus not only don’t have to go to Hell, but they also find a new home in Heaven with the very person who created us and loves us so much to the point of sacrificing Himself for our benefit. It’s a win-win scenario!

I know this isn’t a normal thing to do for fics, but this is something extremely important that I need all of you to know. So please, if you read through this, I implore you to get saved and accept Jesus as your savior. What do you have to lose? If you don’t, you’ll be doomed to an eternity of pain and suffering that you can never escape, but if you do, you will be guaranteed a place in paradise, where Jesus will be waiting for you with open arms. Please trust Him with your life and your heart. You know he will keep it safe.

Thank you all for listening to this and I hope you have a wonderful day!)

Tag List:  @sasstrashforlike5fandoms  @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce @i-need-blog-ideas @thewheezingbubbledragon @crazylittlemunchkin @unabashedbookworm @moonystars14 @sunflowers-and-mooncakes @2confused-2doanything @magnificentcrapposts @moonnette @nickristus-dreamer @vixen-uchiha @casual-darkness @luxmorningstarr @jjmjjktth @kaithehero @itsme1598 @theymakeupfairies @xjaccyx @miraculous-ninja @miraculouspenta @swiftie-miraculer13 @justafanwarrior @all-mights-asscheeks @ira-sairain @lookatthestars1 @dahjokester @blissful-passing @solangelo252 @canivialemonsquints07  @derbygracie  @pleaseignorejustheretoread 

[wreckofawriter]

Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader also Blaise Zabini x reader if you squint.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Blood, swears twice? Angsty (fluff ending)

Summary: Hanahaki Disease AU! You are despareatly in love with your bestfriend. His unrequainted love causes flowers to grow in your lungs which you are forced to cough up until death overcomes you. The only removal of this sickness is a spell which also takes every memory of the loved one with it.

A/n: look at my dumb ass post late for my own event... this fic is for the first week of Cliche Month. My cliche was Hanahaki Disease. Check out the other writers work. They are amazing!!

    Roses used to be your favorite flower. Their delicate petals stained with glaring crimson intrigued you since you reached for one in your mother’s garden and pulled away with a bloodied hand. They could be found around you constantly; arranged in sparkling vases and patterned on your dresses. Bouquets were gifted to you by friends and family during holidays and birthdays, they surrounded you. 

    Now as you coughed into the toilet of the girl’s lavatory you wished to never see a rose again. You could feel the thorns tearing you apart, your throat sliced to ribbons as you clutched the stark white porcelain. You heaved a final time, petals falling into the clear water, the blood upon them staining it pink. You felt dizzy, copper thick in your mouth. You choked out a sob, tears spilling down your cheeks and dripping off your chin. You brought your hand to your face, whipping your mouth with its back and blinking back a fresh wave of cries. You pushed yourself to your feet, knees sore from resting on cold tile too long. You flushed, watching as the red and white petals spiraled from view. 

    You stepped from the stall going to the mirror and dabbing away melting makeup, a few practice smiles at your reflection flashed before you exited the secluded room. 

    Hanahaki disease had been glorified around you for years. The aesthetic and purity of its cause and symptoms making it seem like some dream or fairytale. You had learned quite quickly it was anything but. While everyone talked of the beauty of growing flowers within you they never talked about the pain of thorns piercing you with every breath or the blood which lingered on your taste blood because of never-ending cuts and tears of skin. They never talked about the stab you felt each time the person you loved looked your way or the times you had to swallow petals to keep your quickening death a secret. 

    Blood and roses painted a pretty picture but they stopped being so charming as you choked them out every few hours. 

    You walked quickly to class, each step you took emitting pain in your chest, pain which you had gotten phenomenal at ignoring. Snape didn’t bat an eyelash, despite the fact that you were six minutes late. The stabs grew searing as you took a seat next to the scowling blonde who had unintentionally bloomed flowers in your chest.  

    “Where the hell were you?” Draco scoffed his tone cold.

    “Bathroom.” You replied plainly, eyes tracing the slope of his nose as he turned away from you. Your eyes continued to follow his profile, creating trails on his jawline and under his light grey eyes. 

    Draco turned back to you, “Is there something on my face?” 

    You shook your head, feeling petals flutter in your stomach, thorns following. 

    He said nothing, eyes flicking around your profile, looking for clues of your strange behavior. “Are you sick?” He asked, “You look pale.” 

    You shook your head yet again, “I feel fine.” Lies came so easily recently.

    Draco didn’t give in easily, his gaze searching your own as if he could read through your words to your failing heart. “You’ve seemed off recently,” he stated turning back to the lesson.

    “I don’t know what you mean.” You replied. Lying really had become effortless.

    Draco didn’t like your sudden disappearances and untrustworthy excuses. You had been distant and unfamiliar in recent days. Your schedule seemed skewed, jokes, and laughter seeming to die as you rushed to unexplained meetings with no one before reappearing thirty minutes later with blood on your sleeves. You always smelled of the liquid, copper had replaced your floral shampoo and tropical perfumes. Everything about you simply felt wrong, like an invisible switch had been flipped leaving you as an imposter. 

    You forced a thin smile at the girl across from you as she said her greetings. Pansy dug into her plate of eggs, glaring up at you suspiciously. Your relationship with the girl had always rested on the edge of a knife. She despised your relationship with Draco, her eyes going green whenever you were seen together. You wish you could tell her there was really nothing to worry about. 

    “You’re hiding something.” She satiated plainly.

    You scrunched your nose in mock confusion, “What?”

    A scoff rose from her lips, “I’m not stupid y/l/n. Something is up with you, everyone can see it.” 

    “I have no clue what you’re talking about.” You huffed rolling your eyes, hoping she didn’t notice the goosebumps that rose on your arms, fear of being discovered chilling you to the bone. 

    Blaise sat down next to you sensing the tense atmosphere and glancing between you both, “This about Draco?” He asked cautiously.

    You shook your head quickly, a stab of agony shooting through you at his mention. 

    The boy shrugged, snatching a bagel and beginning to dress it with jam, “Anyway, you guys are coming to Hogsmeade right?”

    Pansy answered excitedly her high pitch making you wish you’d stayed in bed. The conversation droned for a moment and you focused on your breathing. You knew the time which you would be able to do such a necessary act was limited. It was only a matter of time before thorns punctured a lung or pushed through your heart. 

    “You’re going right y/n?” Blaise asked, drawing you into the words spoken between them. 

    You bit your cheek, “I don’t think so.” 

    Blaise groaned, “Come on, we always go! It’s like a tradition.”

    You frowned, “You didn’t go last week.”

    The trap he had fallen into struck quickly, “Well doesn’t matter, you need to go.” he recovered.

    “And why’s that?” You hummed nursing an orange juice that tasted of copper. 

    “Draco gets pissy when you don’t come.” He explained. The words would have made your heart soar if vines weren’t threaded through your veins. “Especially after quidditch practices.” 

    You sighed, “Draco isn’t my responsibi-” you were cut off by a spear thrust into your chest. The glass you held fell from your grip and shattered on the table. Eyes darted towards you in confusion as you bent over in agony. 

    A muffled voice broke through your momentary disconnection from the conscious world.

“Y/n are you okay?” 

Your eyes fluttered open as you gasped for air, tears pooling in your eyes, “I’m fine.” you rasped standing quickly from your seat as you felt petals push up your throat. You sprint from the room without another word, hand clasping over your lips as you desperately tried to swallow the floral arrangement crawling up towards your lips. You managed to make it three corridors before collapsing to the ground, heads turned, eyes locking with you as let out a rattling set of coughs. 

You didn’t hear the words of concern or cries for help as your mouth filled with blood. You felt something push from your mouth landing on your hands lightly. A rose blossom stared back at you as you opened your eyes. Its white petals unfurled stunningly, deep crimson puddles pooled between them. Red dripped lazily down your hands and you began to cough again. Thorns tore through your flesh escaping into the light of the world drenched in red, petals floated in the small puddle of blood around you like tiny boats in a lake of fire. 

You hiccuped twice, the pain the action caused forcing tears down your cheeks. Your ears rang with shouts and gasps, your hands tightening around the flowers you held, only then noticing the cuts which littered your palms. 

Blaise thundered around the corner, shoving people out of the way to see what they had gathered around. His eyes widened when he saw you, blood drenching the front of your uniform, tears mixing with crimson as they dripped off your chin. But the most alarming thing which sat in that hallway where the roses. Four of them, in full bloom, were littered around you, their meaning sinking terror into Blaise’s head. He dropped to his knees in front of you, hands coming to your shoulders.

“Shit y/n,” he mumbled feeling his eyes prick.

You were sobbing, wincing with every shake your body gave, “I can’t forget.” You whimpered, “Please, I don’t wanna die but I can’t forget him.” Your begs were cut off as you began to cough again.

You felt numb. The potions you had been given driving away not only pain but every other feeling your body had manifested. Moving felt like wading through thick mud, the weight of the blankets adding to the confusion of your nerves. 

The ceiling of the hospital wing had become boring hours before, the dark of the night staining the white a deep blue. Your brain ran through memory after memory, thinking that if they replayed through your consciousness enough they would be stuck there, even after they were cut from your body with the flowers within you. You could hear his voice, smell his cologne, and feel his hair. The pain of your body had left but that of your mind had been so deeply engraved it was hard to distinguish from the former. 

The ache you felt from the image of his angry tears and hoarse screams were far worse than the occasional stab of a thorn. Maybe it would be better to forget. Forget the pain, the love, all of it. To forget him. Yet every time you thought of the idea your eyes welled with tears and that unsettling ache of your chest worsened. 

Memories became more and more recent as the melody of the platinum blonde continued to play. Those of a few hours ago were the freshest, still crisp around the edges, full of brilliant colors. 

You didn't want him to find out, let alone find out from someone who wasn't you. Yet Blasie had told him the second after he had dropped you where you now lay, betraying everything within you. 

He had come into the wing still dressed in his quidditch robes, broom in his left hand as he stormed through the previously quiet area. 

"How dare you." He had seethed, broom hitting the ground with a clatter. 

Your eyes had become focused solely on him the second his voice had graced you.

"How fucking DARE you!" His eyes were glossy with fury.

"Mr. Malfoy!"  Pompfery shouted behind him

You were in a confused daze, dull pain shooting through you as Draco neared. "What?" 

He was in front of you now tears sliding down his flushed cheeks as he gripped the metal of the bed frame.

"You can't just fall in love with me!" He shouted, "You can't just, j-just," his voice faltered and fell and he slumped forward. 

You sat up wanting to move towards him, "I'm sorry." You whimpered a hand coming to rest on his own.

He snatched himself away from you, "You were just going to let yourself die?" 

You paused another stab of pain dulled by medication sending white to your vision. Were you going to let yourself die? Die for the memories of this boy? It seemed a bit pitiful as you thought about it. "I don’t know." 

Draco was appalled, his mind reeling as you stared up at him, eyes wide and glistening, "Don't put your blood on my hands." He hissed turning and storming from the room.

You called after him, voice straining, throat burning. He didn't spare a single glance back and you were left staring at his disregard broom as blossoms bubbled in your throat.

Draco had always had an easy way out when he was younger. His mother loved to spoil him and his father would keep him out of trouble with little effort. He had easy choices that were made for him. But recently things have been different. The expectations of his parents raised as he wanted to do nothing but flee from the life they had given him.

You had been safety for him. Your lack of questions and secret intent made you a safe haven. He didn't have to worry about your thoughts of him because he knew they were positive. He didn't have to be concerned with his reputation or his future or his family. He could just exist with you. Exist freely. The bonds which held him to the earth disappeared in your presence and he could float amongst the pink clouds which you lived. 

You were his best friend. And now you were going to be ripped away from him. And there was no one to blame but himself. His unreturned feelings were killing you, this was all his fault. And now your memories would be pulled from you and you would become nothing more than a stranger. 

It hurt to know you may have died for him. Died to keep him in your mind. It hurt to know all the blood you had spilled stained his palms. 

The dorm rooms were darkened, the murky waters of the lake filtering soft moonlight through their depths. Sleep seemed like a faraway friend to Draco as he stared out at nothing. His thoughts were washed together like paint doused in water. A strange dream-like haze had rested over his life since he saw you on that bed. His thumb ran over the bumps of his knuckles, where your hand had rested hours before.

"You shouldn't have blamed her." 

Draco didn't look up, his eyes locked into the dark waters, "I know." 

Blaise sat down next to him, legs crossed, "You should apologize." 

"I know." 

There was a long pause. Neither boy knew what they were supposed to say.

Draco felt his eyes sting, resent bubbling in his stomach, and having nowhere to go, "I don't want to lose her." 

Blaise sighed, "You are either going to have to lose her or love her. It's up to you." 

But it wasn't up to him. He couldn't choose to love you. 

The next day was unsure like a scene that was cut from a movie. Draco spent his time lingering in his hazy consciousness. The thoughts of losing you slowly driving him insane. His vision swam with your image in hallways, eyes falling through him. He would be a stranger to you. And he would have to keep it that way for your own safety. He would be forced to watch his best friend live her life without the memories they shared. The sting of realization grew with each moment.

Your pain had begun to fade. You weren't sure if it was because of the medication or if your body was simply shutting down. The latest you could get McGonagall to cast the spell was tomorrow night. Then every moment you and Draco had shared would be flushed away. 

At least the coughing fits had stopped, thorns no longer tearing your throat to pieces. No more roses covered in blood. You felt a sense of peace.

Your far away mind was drawn back by Madam Pompfery's shrill voice. 

"You may absolutely not visit her!" 

"I just want to apologize!" Another tone retorted.

You sat up quickly, blankets shoved to the side as your bare feet made contact with the ground. 

The argument grew louder as you neared, words turning harsh. 

"Draco?" You called, peeking around the corner to see Madame Pomfrey standing with her back to you blocking the doorway, the blonde just in front of her.

"You should be in bed." The nurse scolded me, turning to look at you.

"I want to see him." You stated firmly.

She had now turned to face you fully, "Go back to bed y/l/n." 

You glared back at the woman, "Let him in." 

There was silence, you're gaze unwavering as the older woman slowly caved. 

"Make it quick Malfoy."

You wanted to choke on the awkward silence that followed after the woman departed. Dracos eyes were glued to you as your own darted between your feet and the nearby wall. 

“She’s right. You should be in bed.” he spoke.

You shrugged, “I was feeling better. The medication helps.”

“You shouldn’t be standing regardless.” He huffed walking past you towards the bed you had been in a few minutes before. 

    You rolled your eyes but followed him, knowing he was right didn’t make you feel any better. 

    “I'm sorry about before,” Draco mumbled as you set yourself against the headboard. You tilted your head in a silent question, “I shouldn't have yelled at you yesterday. It's not your fault.”

    You cracked a small smile, head tilting back until it hit the wall. “Of course it's my fault.” 

    Draco was silent and you gazed at him from the corner of your eye. His eyes were cast at his feet, the melancholy look on his face making you sour. 

    “Please don’t be sad.” You muttered, “I can't have my last memory of you be sad.”

    Despite your plea, his eyes grew misty, the weight on his chest so heavy he thought it might crush him. 

    Your feet felt light and for a moment you thought you might be dying. Your head felt so clear, you wouldn't have been surprised if Draco started saying you were floating off your bed. Your chest felt warm and fuzzy, like hot chocolate after hours in the snow. 

    “I can’t lose you.” Draco sobbed, tears finally spilling from his eyes. “I can’t lose you, y/n. Please don’t leave me.”

    Part of you wanted to slap him, “It's not a choice.” You swallowed thickly, “I didn’t choose to fall in love with you.” It was the truth. You didn’t choose to plunge into the deep waters of absolute devotion. You were pushed. Pushed by each smile and laugh. By each joke and eye roll. He had pushed you into the whirlpool of love and you had been sucked deep under. And now you couldn’t breathe.

    “I can’t watch you forget me.” He croaked his head held in his hands, “I love you y/n, you can't become a stranger to me. I couldn’t watch you live without me. I couldn't live with these memories knowing you don't have them.” 

    Suddenly the lack of pain made sense. The light, fuzzy feeling overwhelming your body was comprehensible, “Say it again.”

    Draco met your eyes, “What?”

    “Say you love me again.”

    His eyes widened, momentary surprise taking him before it was pushed aside by a rush of relief, “I love you.”

    It was like a drug drawn from his lips, it burnt like whiskey down your throat, warmth filling you. You sat forward quickly, hands coming to cup his cheeks, damp and sticky with tears. Droplets of your own gathered, rivers of relief dripping off your chin.

    Your lips met hastily. The taste of salt mixed with the bitterness of blood was unsavory but neither of you seemed to care as you pulled him closer. Kiss deepening as his hands fell to your waist. You found yourself sinking deeper into the water you had fallen into, oxygen suddenly filling your thirsting lungs.

    You were unaware of the thorns that filled Blaise’s. Yellow petals spilled from his lips, his throat filled with blood. As you tucked your head into Draco's chest, his was buried into his hands, tears filling his eyes. He was hopeless, the thorns would tear him apart and you would put roses on his grave

Taglist:

@accio-rogers @roslea @k3nz-doodl3 @theseuscmander @sleepingalaska @chloe-geoghegan1

Masterlist

[goldenlaurelleaveswrites]

All the Letters Spell I Love You  Bewilder

Chapter 2 of All the Letters Spell I Love You (AO3)

Canon divergence, in which Marinette never told Alya her secret at the end of Gang of Secrets.

_____________________________________________________________

1: To cause to lose one’s bearings 2: To perplex or confuse (especially by a complexity, variety, or multitude of objects or considerations)

Meriam-Webster

_____________________________________________________________

It didn’t make sense. 

He shouldn’t have been so patient. He shouldn’t have been so understanding. Or supportive. Or sympathetic. Or considerate. Or any of the other wonderful, amazing qualities that she loved about him. 

He shouldn’t have stayed. 

There was no reason to. Everyone else had seen it; none of them had stuck around. 

But he had. 

And the decision bewildered her. 

There was no sense to it. Because she couldn’t be there. She had told him as much. And she hadn’t even been able to tell him why. 

He had every reason to leave, to run from her as far and as fast as possible without a backward glance. As much as it had shattered her heart, she had tried to force him to run. To get as far away from her as possible. 

Because all she could do was hurt him. That was all she had done. 

When she had broken up with him, she thought he would realize what she had; that she couldn’t be there. That she would always leave him. 

After their breakup, it hadn’t taken her friends long to realize she would forever be leaving. They had tried to talk to her, tried to get her to stay. But they had reached the understanding that she would never be able to spill her secrets. That she would never be able to stay. 

And so they had left. 

Luka was different though. 

He had pulled away a bit after their breakup. But he hadn’t truly left. He was always there; hovering just on the peripheral. A reminder of what she had lost. He was a beacon of light, trying to call her back to a path she desperately wanted to take. 

But she knew she couldn’t. She had made it clear that she couldn’t. 

But he had still stayed. 

Because that’s what Luka did. Even after all this time, for all her leaving, he still stayed. Even though she had given him every reason to leave, he didn’t. 

And she couldn’t make sense of it.

                                                           ***

Her eyes had drifted shut ages ago, but despite the soothing melody Luka was strumming, she couldn’t relax. The events of Wishmaker played over and over in her head.

For such a lovely power it had held, revealing childhood dreams, it had been one of the most dangerous akumas to date. They had been lucky their identities hadn’t been revealed. 

But if there was one person she would want to reveal her identity to…

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

She cracked her eyes open to see Luka staring at her, with the softest look in his eyes. Marred only by the concern crinkling his brow. 

She wanted to tell him, desperately. But Tikki and Fu had always been adamant about the identity rules. And the rules Fu had shared with her were the only things guiding her as a guardian. To discard those rules now… she would be setting herself adrift with no means guide her. 

“Marinette?” 

With a start, she realized she had just been staring at him stupidly. “It’s… it’s nothing,” she mumbled. 

“Your heart says otherwise.” He began to strum his guitar again. But this time, instead of a soothing song, the notes were a flurry of confusion and melancholy. That was another thing about him that bewildered her. 

“How do you do that? How do you know exactly what I’m feeling?” She couldn’t bring herself to meet his eyes, scared he would see the truth in hers. 

She could feel him shifting beside her. And then his hand was on hers. “You’ve been the song in my head since the day we met. When you think about a song so often, you notice changes in it.”

Heat flooded her cheeks, and tears smarted at her eyes. “But don’t you ever get tired of the same song?” She didn’t know how he would answer, but she feared his answer either way. 

“No,” he said softly as he squeezed his hand. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this song.” 

How had she ever been lucky enough to be with him? Was his coming into her life the one bit of luck she was destined to have? Or was it fate’s cruel trick? To bring him to her, only to tear him away?

Because as long as Hawkmoth was a threat, as long as she was Ladybug, as long as the threat of losing her memories hung over her head... she could never be with him. 

No matter how much wanted to be. 

“Even if the song can’t play for you?” 

He took both of her hands in his. She could feel his eyes on her, but she still couldn’t bring herself to look at him. She didn’t trust herself not to tell him everything. 

“I’ll never get tired of your song. Not when I keep discovering new notes in it. Not when the more I hear it, the more incredible it becomes.” Discovering new notes? Her eyes flickered up to meet his, and she was drowning in soft, bright hues of blue. “A song doesn’t have to play for me to love it.”

“Love…?” He nodded. “But… I don’t understand. I always leave, I can’t tell you the truth, I can’t-“

“I told you when you’re ready. Remember?” She swallowed thickly, nodding slowly. After everything she had put him through, he still felt that way? He let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her. “I’ll still be listening to your song when you’re ready,” he whispered. 

It didn’t make sense. It was bewildering that after everything, he still loved her. 

She had been quietly resigned to let him go, to love him from a distance. 

Because after all the pain and heartache she had put him through, him loving her didn’t make sense. 

As if sensing the direction she was spiraling in, he let go of her and picked up his guitar. 

When they had first met, he had said he made more sense with it. He had proven that true the first time he played for her. And every time he had played for her since. But especially, just a few days ago, when she had been so lost in the face of her future. 

That had been the day she understood Luka hadn’t just meant he made more sense through his guitar; he made more sense through his music. 

She leaned her head on his shoulder as he played for her, letting the music wash over her, as he made the world and everything in it make sense. 

[nestasgalpal]

The ball is in his court

Fixing ACOSF Part 8

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Summary:  Cassian knows Nesta is supposed to dance with Eris and lure him into a stronger alliance with the Night Court. He knows he's been forbidden from getting close to her during the whole event. He knows she loves to dance. He knows he wants to be the one swinging with her.

A/N: angst because Cassian got very little character development in the book for someone who had that much family drama to deal with. It's not that big of a change as other chapters, but I thought it made sense to add this here with how these three acted in the ball.

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Cassian stood firmly on his feet as he made Mor spin once again. The House was playing music for them, and in some strange way, he felt it getting annoyed at how many times he had demanded to go- "Again". The waltz had just finished, and he was already positioning himself to start all over.

"Cass, you already know the moves, you've been dancing these for centuries" she laughed it off "I honestly don't think you need any more practice for tomorrow."

"Again" he insisted.

With a sigh, his friend went back to first position, seven feet away from him. The sound the House played for them was more like a trumpet with a shoe stuck in it than the beautiful harmonies they had been practicing with.

"Please, I want to make sure I get it right before we leave for the ball" Cassian gave her his best pout face, which made Mor roll her eyes.

"You are not going to dance with her, Cass. You got clear instructions from Rhys about that. I don't even know why I'm helping you with this, we both heard you are not allowed near her." The House probably felt like Mor was doing a good enough job at remprimanding him for his stubbornnes, because the melody of the waltz started playing again, and they moved to the sound of it. "Gods, you two are already making this way harder than it needs to be with your non-stop fucking" Cassian laughed, but Mor was not in the mood for joking, "This is serious. I heard Rhys complain about how long it took to hide your scent on her." With their palms in the air almost touching, they turned and gave two steps back "Behave." she reminded him of what his role was tomorrow night, and how important it was that he didn't ruin Nesta's mission by approaching her at all.

Cassian smiled again. "I'll try my best".

"Cassian" her tone made clear that she was not amused by the idea of what he may do with with all this dance practice.

"I know, I know. I'll be a good General Commander and stand by my High Lord's side the entire night, while she dances with Eris Vanserra" the lightness with which he spoke did very little to hide the feelings behind it. The jealousy.

Mor let him guide the dance, shadows in her eyes. Their imminent visit to Hewn City must be disturbing her, specially knowing both his father and Eris would be there. The stress of the negotiations with Vallahan was wearing her down as well.

"Why do you insist on going after her?" The sudden dryness she spoke with took him by surprise, and so did the question itself. Nesta and whatever the nature of his relationship with her was, wasn't a topic they ever talked about. For the last couple of years, they avoided the subject, pretending it didn't exist. That's why it felt so odd how mad she seemed to be now without any previous warning that the matter was present in her thoughts at all. That it could disturb her so much, was the most unexpected part of it.

It rubbed him the wrong way, but Cassian kept on moving, the smile in his eyes not fading one bit as he looked into hers to answer.

"Jealous that I'm spending my time with her and not you lately?"

The blonde's gaze pierced through him with a cold disdain he hadn't prepared himself for either. "Not at all. Unlike you, I understand what an order is." Ouch. "I don't blame you for following Rhys' command and babysitting her when he asked you to. She's your job, I guess."

"She is not a job"

"Cassian" His friend hardly ever called his full name. This was now the second time in a matter of minutes.

The conversation was taking a turn he didn't like as a sense of danger that made him on guard sat between them. But it was his best friend talking, his sister, so he ignored his instincts and kept moving to the rhythm. He tried to be graceful and move with precision, imagining it was Nesta's pale hand in his.

"I'm serious. You really need to come back from this recess sooner or later. Better if you choose the former, considering you have a job to do, a role to play as the rest of us do. Her included." The dance required him to spin her twice, an artificial pause in her speech as she twirled on his arms "I'm sure it was fun, but Feyre already revoked the order, so it's time you move on and take things seriously again. You have no idea how bad the treaty with Vallahan is going. We must prepare for the worse, have the armies ready".

"You think being here with her is some kind of vacation?"

The flow of her practiced movements didn't disappear for a second as she dissed Nesta, which was unsettling. Apparently, it came natural to her and putting these thoughts into words required no effort. For how long had Mor been thinking this way about his stay in the House of Wind?

"You sure smell like you are having a good time". Mor gave a step forward to the beat of the orchestra. Cassian didn't follow her movement, their bodies colliding.

It was now making him truly angry. Not just her usual dismiss of Nesta, which he had grown accustomed to, but the little care she was showing for him. He hadn't been working less on Illyria for the past months, his duty with Nesta being piled up on top of his previous responsibilities, and in addition to his new assignments as courtier to cover up her absence. He was working his ass off.

Countless, sleepless nights trying to come up with new ideas to help Nesta weren't something he had told her about, but she certainly knew about the exhaustion they put him through. The fighting, the struggle. Having to finally face how lost she was and stop pretending he had nothing to do with it had been a wake up call. Trying to put the pieces together, a painfully slow process they were still working on. They were achieving it bit by bit... and together, he wanted to think. It had been anything but a vacation.

His biggest regret, however, was printed all over her words, truth slipping through the cracks in the lie he had crafted for himself so long ago. That's why Mor's words hit him like a punch in the guts, because he had actually treated Nesta as a job in the beginning, and Nesta probably had thought the same thing -if she didn't still feel about it like that. A job. Cassian flinched. An order given to him to follow, and not his own decision to sought her and be there for her after the war.

"This is not time off for me, and, again, she is not a job."

Mor wasn't listening, "You need to be honest with yourself, Cass. You need to come to terms with whatever it is your cock feels for that female, and move on."

"You did not just say that" Cassian was speechless.

Knowing what she knows.

Cassian put distance between them and scanned the room looking for a chair, needing to sit down. There was one left alone by the wall where they had pushed it to have more space for their dancing. He sat before he felt his blood drop to his feet, his head uncomfortably light as his sight became dizzy.

Mor hadn't just said that. She would never cross him like that. Denial took over, his trustful self convincing him he just needed a moment to focus. Once he felt better, he would realize her words were only a friend worrying, not an attack on him. She was helping. Mor was always there for him when he needed a friend. She was only trying to give him some advice.

Then why did it hurt so much to hear those twisted truths from her mouth?

"Oh, come on!" she was saying behind him. Mor's words were distant and distorted, as if he were underwater. It took him a moment to understand and process them. "You saw what she became after the war just as clearly as I did. You did nothing about it, just like I did. And we were okay with that, we have our own life, Cass, and she doesn't fit in it. There is another war waiting for us in the corner that threatens to break this moment of happness we've built. For our future, you need to come back to be who you are, the Cassian I know. I miss him."

Once again, the plain truth. He had drifted away like everyone else. They had all decided that space was what she needed, and when that didn't work, it was once again them deciding what to do with the pieces that were left. He had agreed to every plan, convincing himself they knew what they were doing and they knew her better than she did. That they had any right to pick a path for her, the biggest lie of them all.

And now Mor's words were shattering the wall of self-inflicted fabrications he had slowly built while Nesta faded away from his reach. He took in his friend's words, their meaning. What she thought, and some of his friends -family- shared.

It made his heart skip a bit to realize that Nesta probably saw it like that too to this day. He had already accepted his mistakes to himself, he knew before the blonde said it what he had done wrong. Yet Cassian hadn't thought about how his actions were read from the outside. Nobody had called him out on his bullshit. Nobody had interfered -wasn't that what friends were supposed to do? So there it was, the reason why none of them had ever tried to help him smooth things between them: they didn't want him to. Stupidly and blindly trusting his friends would have the respect for him he had proven to have for them, he assumed they were just as blind as he was. Apparently, they weren't, and they had purposefully left her to rot.

Up until now, Cassian hadn't entertained the thought that she most likely didn't let him in because she also considered his presence there a task for him to handle, even if they had grown to be... friends.

That was it -a dead end for them.

No matter how hard he insisted on being there for Nesta now, he had already failed her too many times, and she simply wouldn't allow him to get closer a second time. Not the way he wanted to, at least.

His pulse was in his ears. Or maybe he was hearing again the dreadful noises the house played for them before.

Oh, Nesta.

Had she agreed to the plan because she didn't really care for him watching? Did Nesta not care because she simply didn't want to be anything else than friends in the end? Did she even trust him enough to call what they had a friendship?

A glass of red wine appeared on the table next to him and was it was in his hand a second later. Cassian swallowed its content in one sip. It was refilled instantly. Realization hit him right then and there, that he might be in time to save her, yet too late for what he wanted from her. And his ass would be the only one to blame for that. His cowardice. And how could he hope for a second chance from someone who didn't grant one to herself?

A movement in his field of vision took him out of his trance. Mor, who was carefully approaching him, gave a jump back when he got up from his chair, letting it fall back. The loud noise scared her too.

Those damned reports. He should have never agreed to that stupid idea. Nor to the plan they had for tomorrow night. Yes, she had agreed to it, but maybe if he had asked her not to... No, she would have still done it, convinced it was the only way she would not be seen as a coward.

Who gives a fuck about how anyone sees her. She certainly didn't use to. And he used to love that about her.

But now she clearly did, and was ready to do anything to change how he and his friends saw her. Even seducing Eris Vanserra right in front of him.

"Why can't you just leave her alone?" he asked, defeated at the thought that Nesta was indeed going to allow him to be by her side, but probably where he was right now was the closer he would ever get to tearing down her walls.

Mor looked back at him, marking the way his arms hung by his sides, the picture of a defeated male. She showed no compassion.

"Because I can't forget what she did to Feyre. I still remember the night she told us her story, what she went through. I see her grow every day and I'm reminded of who broke her in the first place. I can't let that slide like nothing." Cassian opened his mouth to say something, not knowing what exactly. He closed it again as Mor lifted a finger to stop whatever words he would have come up with from escaping his mouth. She was angry, "She let her 14 year old sister go wonder the woods next to the Wall all alone. Feyre was a child, Cassian. A kid who had to risk her life on a daily basis because your lover didn't want splinters in her fingernails."

Cassian sighed, tired of a conversation that kept circling back to the same point over and over again. He knew what Nesta's choices had meant to Feyre, but he had seen her regret as well, and what those same choices had done to her. Cassian had seen and heard the forgiveness coming from Feyre herself, her actions a window to what his High Lady needed: to move on. They had talked about it, his friend had opened up to him and she was obviously determined to have her sister back at any cost. And so was him. He was determined to help his friend and at the same time assist Nesta with whatever it was she needed... once she came to terms with what it was.

He had taken her to the old cabin they used to live in and had stand by her side as she scanned the place, finding only bad memories of the person she used to be. She wanted to move on as well. So if the two people involved wanted the same thing, why did their friends keep getting in the way using a wound that was already healing as an excuse.

"But you can forgive Elain?"

"Elain has at least tried to be one of us, Nesta has done nothing since she arrived but be against us."

Cassian laughed at that, a bitter, joyless laugh. "Elain is trying to be our friend, while Nesta doesn't like us. Is that it?" He chuckled again. "Are you telling me that the only reason you pick on her is that she doesn't want to be your friend and you can't just accept that? I thought it was her actions to Feyre in the past, but yes, this makes way more sense now." This time it was him stopping her from talking back, "I can see a pattern there. Isn't that the same reason you don't trust Lucien no matter how hard he works to help us? That he has his own life beyond us?" The volume of his voice went in crescendo as his anger rose to meet hers, "You can't be seriously expecting me to leave her because of a petty fight that only exists in your head."

"It's not just me, Cass. It's all of us. No one likes her, no one wants her around, and we are not having our days ruined every time she shows up so you can fuck her. You are not like this, you are not selfish like that." The indignation simmering in her brown eyes didn't make her an inch scarier to him, the childish reasons for it almost making him consider the argument over, hadn't him been so heated himself. "I want my friend back. And so does Rhys, who can't look at her -or Lucien, for that matter, without being reminded of what his mate went through before he found her."

Cassian snapped.

His siphons glowed scarlet red, goosebumps in his arms from the contained adrenaline rushing through his veins. He screamed at her in anger for the first time in... for the first time in as long as he could remember.

"Don't you dare try to make me feel like I'm a bad friend to Feyre to justify your bigotry. Don't you dare try to convince me that I'm the one hurting others, so I stay in my place while you do whatever the fuck you want and then blame the problems that surface on me. Don't you fucking dare play the victim of this when it's none of your business."

There had been genuine happiness in Feyre's eyes the night Nesta and her decided to give themselves one last chance.

Now Mor was reducing Feyre to nothing but an excuse for her own grudges. She was trying to yield her past suffering as a weapon against her sister, which would make Feyre just as furious as he was. She would never use the damage she experienced to hurt someone she loved, and that was the kind of friend he wanted in his life giving him advice. That was the kind of friend Cassian needed.

He had taken Nesta to the mountains and listened to her cry. He had heard from her mouth how she felt.

Worthless.

She had felt like she didn't deserve to be alive.

And apparently, Mor agreed.

It couldn't be wrong to have sympathy for her. It couldn't be wrong to want her. And he did want her. Cassian wanted everything with her. Was he a bad friend to Feyre for that? How, when his friend wanted the same thing?

"She saved my life twice. She was ready to die with me instead of running away. Does that mean nothing to you?" Above all, what broke Cassian's trust in her wasn't simply her disapproval of Nesta. Rather than that, what Cassian wasn't sure he could forgive was how little care she showed for him. "If you don't like her, that's fine. I don't care, and I can promise you she doesn't either. But don't you dare use Feyre or me as an excuse for it."

"I won't apologize for caring. I won't apologize for protecting my High Lady and my best friend, and the life you really want and deserve".

"At what point exactly did you decide Feyre's happiness was above Nesta's life? Was it after you met her, or had you already ranked your priorities the night Feyre told us about her sisters? Oh, sorry, our priorities, since apparently you know what I want better than I do." Cassian wasn't sure if he would have stopped his ranting right there if he had seen any regret coming from Mor, and he never got to find out. His friend's face was a mask of faked boredom as he spoke. "From all people, I would expect you guys to know what it's like to be perceived by outsiders in a way that's different from who you are as a measure of protection. You simply fail to understand that, for her, we've been the bad guys she has to be wary of since day one. And the reason is precisely that we made our minds clear about her in that fucking dinner party and refused to change it independently of what she did to be better".

He would know about it.

A blank expression was painted on her face. "You need to chill."

"Leave." he ordered. It was no up for discussion. Cassian couldn't even look at her right now. He was fuming and didn't want to say things he would later regret. As he opened the glass doors for Mor, he knew he would, unless one of them left.

"Are you seriously going to let a stupid fight about her get between us?"

It was the way she said her. Like she had said it a hundred times before, like others had pronounced as well, including him not so long ago.

Cassian turned to face the blonde, a special kind of anger glimmering in his eyes.

"Me?!" he screamed. Mor gave instinctively a step back, "Am I going to let it get between us!? You are the one who brought her up, Mor. You are the one who has a problem, and I'm the one pretending you don't trash her at every chance you get, so we can still be friends. I'm not the one letting an argument get between us, for the only thing I've been doing over five hundred years is make everything easier for you. And now, I'm done." Her eyes went wide.

But Cassian was now beyond turning. He had tried to leave and make her go to avoid exactly what was about to happen, "Are you seriously going to let a stupid sister fight only you care about at this point get between me and my happiness? You really despise her so much you would take the chance of being happy with Nesta away from me only to make her miserable?" he spat.

Cassian took a step forward and Mor gave another one back at the same time, recoiling. There was fear in her face as he made his way to her, a kind of fear he had never seen on her features whilst looking at him. "Just look at me in the eye and answer this question, Mor, and I promise there won't be more fights between us for better or worse: Would you rather have me unsatisfied for the rest of my days than have me happy, if that requires her being blissful as well? "

Her silence was too long. It was too damn long.

Cassian spread his wings, the glimmer of his siphons mirroring his anger, and went for the glass doors.

"I only want to protect you." Mor cried behind him. Cassian walked fast, but she was at his heels when he reached the banister, begging him to stop and listen.

One single tear run down her beautiful face. If any other person had made her shed a tear, he would be the first one going after them to make them suffer unimaginable pain. Mor was his best friend, had always been. Cassian thought there was nobody in the world he wouldn't at least beat up for making her sad the way she looked now. But he heard her whimper, saw the hurt, and realized it was too little compared to what she had inflicted on him. On Nesta.

She had gone too far. And at the same time, she was giving him too little.

He turned to face her, needing to make sure he wasn't making a mistake. A part of him refused to believe this was actually happening, wanted to trust in that, once he met her eyes again, he would see regret in her pupils. The hope he had learned from her ages ago making him give her one last look before he aimed for the sky.

Of course, Mor was too stubborn to show any kind of surrender. Too proud to be regretful.

"I am a 500 year old warrior. She is a 25 year old female whose family she can't talk to without pushing them away. And you think I'm the one who needs protection because she is mean to those she doesn't like."

It was not a question. Cassian wanted Mor to hear what her case sound like to him. Before he left, Cassian wanted her to know this was not going to be a short argument and they wouldn't be having lunch together next week. It was a breaking point in their friendship, and he was going to stand on this hill as long as it took, unmoving no matter how many jibes she trowed at him or how many tears wetted her face.

Mor cried in silence, and only because the winter breeze was cooling him down, he didn't get angrier at her for that, at himself, and at the world. Why did they always find a way to make things harder than they should be?

"Wait, please, don't go." The sound of his wings spreading again almost prevented him from hearing her whimper as she said, "I can still teach you one last dance," she murmured. Cassian listened carefully, she didn't dare moving, monitoring his position as if he were a wild animal and she was a rabbit trying to be discrete to not become his prey "There is one gavotte they are likely to play. She is so good at it, you would think she's known the moves for decades and not days."

A temtative hand reached for his arm and stayed there. He had never seen Mor stutter, especially when it came to him. Cassian had always been her best friend, the one who never got mad at her and she could count on. Now she was unsure if he was leaving for the day, or if he was flying away from her for Cauldron knows how long. She didn't tighten her grip on him when he didn't push her away, it remained light and unsure. "I think you already know it, but we can practice that one a couple of times. Just in case you get a chance to dance with her. You'll look great by her side... like it's meant to be".

Cassian noticed his cheeks were wet as well. His gaze burned so fiercely Mor couldn't hold his stare. With anger still painted all over his features, Cassian nodded and followed her inside again.

Mor didn't say a bad word about her for the rest of the evening, and even if he couldn't know where she went afterwards to rant about it, he appreciated her silence.

---

A couple of minutes after her orgasm, Nesta's legs were still shaking. Cassian drove his hand up and down her thighs, feeling her soft skin with the excuse of a massage to help her muscles relax.

He needed to calm down as well -it had been a particularly long day. Nesta had been happy to follow him into his room after dinner, feeling something was off. He had to restrain himself from telling her when she asked about it. First, because he didn't want her to know he was taking dance lessons with Mor. She would know the reason behind it in a second, and he didn't feel like exposing himself like that for a second time that day.

He also couldn't tell her about the argument that hours later still kept his head bussy. He didn't want her to know how frivolously she had been discussed, what both Mor and him had said about her in the same living room where their kisses after dinner had started.

Nesta's breathing was steady, tranquil. His cock was still inside her. He needed to feel her touch. She wasn't in conditions to leave his room even if he came out of her, but Cassian didn't want to give her a chance to get rid of him just yet. He needed her presence there a little longer.

Nesta's fingers tangled themselves in his hair, pressing his head to the crook of her neck. He kissed the soft skin and felt her pulse beat fast against his lips. The path of wet kisses he planted all the way up to the spot behind her ear made her moan.

Cassian felt his blood rushing back to his cock.

With his hands, he cupped her breasts. A sigh escaped her swollen lips, his own closing around a hard nipple. Cassian marked with kisses and playful bites his way down her abdomen to the apex of her thighs. Nesta's let a loud moan escape when his tongue hit with precision her bundle of nerves, drawing circles around it. Teasing her. Making her wetter if that was even possible.

Unaffected by Nesta's pleas, he enjoyed playing with her, his mouth exploring her folds as if wanting to drink her in. Cassian couldn't hear anything, the sinful sounds she let out a song his blood echoed, roaring in his ears. Her hand found his head, her hips clashing against him as she tried to ride his face. Oh, he loved it when she did that, so desperate to have him closer, for his touch to never leave her.

It was his lust what determined every movement his body made, convincing Casian he could reach heaven just by climbing up her hips. Cassian didn't stop until he felt her thighs clench the sides of his head. The hand that held him fixed between her legs became a fist in his hair, encouraging him to keep going, keep licking and keep playing with her most sensitive spot until his tongue took her over the edge one more time.

Yet he hadn't had enough of her. He needed more and more, and after each time they slept together, the urge to have her again grew stronger, as Cassian became more impatient for the next time. Nesta felt the same way, by how her hands found his wings by reaching behind his shoulders and aroused him again. A grin spread through her face when he let his lover play with him in whatever way she pleased. Whatever she wanted from him, Cassian would give.

He climaxed one more time all over her breasts, before he finally renounced to her body. He was content resting by her side, their legs tangled under the sheets.

It was now a matter of time before Nesta left his room.

Cassian's legs tangled with hers. Nesta moved idly against him, making herself comfortable. Their bodies fitted together like pieces from a jigsaw puzzle, their breaths the only sound in the room. He could tell she was cold as he once again found himself caressing her arms, pale like porcelain under the moonlight that came through the window. Cassian pulled the sheets to cover them and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Nesta had her walls down. She looked so peaceful curled up against him.

"You don't like us, do you?" even if he whispered the words, they were loud in the silence of the room.

Nesta was fighting to focus her sight, just as tired as he was. "What do you mean?" Oh Cauldron. That raspy voice of hers after sex. Too much moaning for her own good. And he hadn't even enjoyed her throat that night. He had to picture terrible things in his head so his cock would behave and not react to her "that was really great sex" voice.

"My friends and I. The Inner Circle as a whole, you could say." His hand rested in the small of Nesta's back, drawing lazy circles.

She maneuvered to get rid of his touch, sitting up on the bed. The absence of her body against him was painfully obvious. Cassian laid on his back, fighting the impulse to sit up as well. He moved his hands to his nape with faked laziness, as if the question was simple small talk. Yeah... the small talk they never had after sex. Not weird or suspicious at all.

Good job, you idiot. She's not coming to your room in weeks. He cursed himself.

He couldn't withdraw now, it was too late. Nesta's gaze was feline. On guard.

"I don't think I dislike any of you more than you dislike me."

"Hey, I don't dislike you!" he ignored the cautiosness on her tone. He would pretend everything was okay and pray Nesta somehow went with it, "I would say, in fact, that I am very fond of you. And so is Az, for what's worth."

She smiled, a cold grin that didn't seem to fit with the rest of her face, still flushed, eyes glassy and tired. "Then you don't have to worry about it." He said nothing, only kept looking at her. He had learned that, if he waited long enough, she would go on. It could be only to insult him and then leave... but she would go on.

---

Nesta sighed. Where was he going with this? What was she even supposed to respond? No, she didn't like half of them... that if she counted the ones she barely tolerated. But she could sit in the same table as them and be civil. She was even working for them, so why he would bring that up two minutes after he came all over her, was beyond Nesta.

"I thought you didn't care what your friends thought of this" she pointed between the two of them, her gesture just as calculatedly casual as his had been.

A wet washcloth appeared on his nightstand. Nesta mentally thanked the house for her timing. If she was forced to have this conversation, she would rather be clean for it. Nesta rubbed it on her chest, Cassian's gaze following and fixing on her breasts. She cleared her throat, urging him to answer.

"And I don't. I was just curious if you did."

Nesta sigh.

"You've snapped at me before for calling one of you an asshole, Cassian. Do you really expect me to go on a detailed answer on how much I value them and their opinions?" Cassian tightened his jaw, but didn't answer. He waited for her to go on, knowing his silence was pressure enough for her to give in and talk.

If she said she didn't mind what they thought of her, she would be lying. But if she told him she did care, she would be lying as well. It wasn't that simple, a "yes" or a "no".

Nesta cared and worried about their opinions, not because she valued their judgement, but because she was still afraid she didn't have enough power in that Court to face their truth with hers. She had her own thoughts about them, but they didn't have the weight on Cassian one word from any of his friends had.

Nobody ever asked her what she thought of them, because it didn't really matter. Yet everyone expected Nesta to take into consideration what they wanted -who they expected her to be. They had crossed the line in the most disgusting ways to make sure she did the right changes to fit into the mold they had created for her. And Cassian had been a part of it.

Now, from all people, Cassian was asking.

"Don't mention them when we are in bed if you want to see me here again." that was the little bargain power she was sure she had over him. The territory she could claim for herself.

Once again, it took Cassian some time to come up with his own words. Nesta's brain was going a thousand thoughts per minute, reading his face, his body, trying to anticipate where he was going to strike next. He had chosen to bring this up right after sex, when she was slower with her wit. Prick.

When Nesta thought he simply wouldn't answer, Cassian finally sat on the mattress, shoulders down, his body apparently relaxed, his muscles tense and wings tucked in "I know this is just sex, and that's enough for me. I'll take it." As he mouthed the words, Nesta came out of the mist that clouded her thoughts, ready to cover up any crack on her armor. "I just want to know if my friends have anything to do with you not wanting... more."

For that, the answer was yes. She did worry what they thought of Cassian and her being... close, only because she wasn't sure what Cassian would do if they didn't approve of them together.

Nesta didn't care, but she worried what it would mean for her if they asked him to leave. Nesta was sure she meant enough to Cassian for him to put on some resistance. But when push came to shove, if they ever asked him to choose, she doubted Cassian would put her before them.

And she wasn't ready to be broken like that.

There was one thing about Cassian she admired above anything else he had and was, and that was his loyalty. Absolutely unmoving. She saw first-hand how this male loved, so ardently, so unwavering. If Cassian was asked to choose and chose his friends, she wouldn't blame him, she would understand. She had seen him put his life on the line for them without thinking, the act natural to him.

It was knowing that Cassian wasn't the obedient dog others had claimed him to be what would be devastating for her. To be so sure that he didn't feel the need to follow his High Lord to the end of the world.

If he chose them, duty wouldn't be the reason. Cassian would do it because he literally loved them more.

It was precisely that what made her so afraid to let him in. To not know if whatever he wanted from her would ever mean to him as much as the bonds he already had. If there was a chance for him to value it even above those. Because she wouldn't take less.

Nesta couldn't tell him she didn't care what they thought, for it would be a lie. And she couldn't tell him about her reasons either without bearing her heart more than she was ready for. And every time she reminded him -or herself- that it was just sex, she remembered why she refused to give him anything else.

So yes, Nesta cared about what they thought only because she feared them in a way Cassian wouldn't understand. He had defended them against her in the past like he didn't know that side of them existed at all.

Unable to answer, Nesta nodded.

Cassian took in her gesture. At his silence, Nesta practically launched herself out of Cassian's bed, aiming for the door and grabbing her nightgown on her way.

He was there before she could grip the knob. His hand slammed the door to make sure she couldn't open it. Nesta turned on her heels to face him, angry at how aggressive his gesture was. At the audacity to behave like this after she gave him the answer he had asked for, only because he hadn't liked it.

She was trapped between his body and the wooden door, her face an inch apart from his naked chest. Because they were still naked. He banged his head against the door and closed his eyes.

"You know I would give my life for you. In a heartbeat. Without hesitation." Nesta could feel her mouth dry. She couldn't believe he was making a scene about this, considering what her mission the next day. What had happened that afternoon before she came back from the Library to shake him like this? "You know that, right?" Cassian insisted.

She nodded one more time, her forehead brushing his shoulder.

"I know you have good reasons to want them far away from you, Nes, but they are part of my life. My family. When I ask myself what I want in my future, I know I want them in it. We've been through so much together that I really can't picture my life without them at this point. To be honest, I don't want to picture it either."

Nesta's throat burned and so did her eyes, lined with tears. She wasn't ready to listen to this coming from his lips.

"But I want you too, and I don't even know if you think that's possible or if I'm making a fool of myself by trying to go after you."

She was glad Cassian had his eyes closed so he wouldn't see the mess she became as his words hit her. Nesta closed them as well, so the tears didn't come out. "We have a mission tomorrow, Cassian. I need to get some sleep and be well rested."

He didn't move.

"Let's not jeopardy the mission for a question you already know the answer for".

In a matter of hours she was going to be dancing with Eris in Hewn City trying to lure him into an alliance with his beloved friends because they had asked that from her. And she had agreed because the future of the frail political situation they were in depended on it. She needed to focus her mind back on that. She told herself that by doing so, she would forget about his confrontation, and by some miracle he wouldn't bring it up again after that.

"Why did you even accept to help with that plan, Nesta?" Cassian asked again, an angry whisper in her ear.

Because it's worse to stay in my room while you are there with them and wonder if you would vanish away once again if I don't follow all of you wherever you go.

The low light of the lamp threw shadows on Cassian's hazel eyes when he opened them to look straight into hers. They were so beautiful. He stretched his arm to cup her hand, but Nesta hid it in her lap before he could.

His arm hung there for a moment, as if not knowing what to do with it.

Don't worry, Cassian, I'm choosing this for myself. I'll do it. I want to do it.

And in return, she only asked him to keep things casual.

Nesta knew it was unfair to him. She was giving him no choice. It was selfish. But no one expected anything better from her anyway. She was self-absorbed, everyone knew that. It seemed to be her defining characteristic in their eyes from the beginning. No need to change that now. The only thing Nesta was willing to replace was her relationship with herself, with who she was. The only goal in her mind was to be as ready to fight for her life as she was to give it for others. Only then, she would be able to share her heart the way she wanted to. And if he was still around when that happened, she would gladly give him a piece. Just not yet.

It would take time, but he had promised to stay no matter how long it took. He had sworn.

Her voice was too close to cracking. "You should go get some rest as well. Don't think too much about this, Cassian. It's just sex, remember?"

"Just sex" he agreed.

Nesta moved her hands up and carefully placed them on his chest to push him away. He obediently gave a step back, freeing her. She went straight for the door knob and opened it. Nesta exited as fast as she could to turn her back on him before he saw the effect his damned questions had had on her.

"And I have no intention of changing that for my own reasons. Your friends have nothing to do with it."

It's you, she thought.

"So many things are happening to me at the same time," she said instead, "that...I don't even know how to deal with them and not have a breakdown every five minutes. I need you to be the one thing in my life that is easy. Please." there was no point in hiding her weeping anymore. "And I don't need anyone to die for me. I would hate that, actually. I want someone who is going to stay alive and by my side all the way. And that's why you need to let go." Nesta wasn't sure whose heartbeat she was hearing, but it was thundering at an alarming pace.

"I understand" he said. His voice was not her lover's caring tone, nor her friend's easy-going voice. He was putting distance between them, making it impersonal. She didn't blame him, as she did the same thing and closed the door behind her.

She went straight to her room and asked the House to warm up the cold space.

There were no dreams for her that night.

---

On the same room one floor above, Cassian stared at the ceiling for hours, unable to find sleep.

The sun came up before he got to close his eyes, still thinking about what Nesta had asked from him. What his High Lord had asked from him aligning with her request as well. What Mor thought of it all. The ball and Eris being the one to spend the entire night with Nesta Archeron.

He had a job to do, a character to play he knew too well to mess it up even if he had gotten no rest, so that part didn't worry him one bit.

Only when he finally got up with the first rays of sunshine, Cassian came to terms with what he would do that night and how far was he willing to go. If what he wanted for himself was worth risking all the good things he already had, both with his friends and with her.

Maybe it was time to stop being a coward who adapted to the group's needs. Maybe it was time he gave the first step. Or perhaps he would do better waiting, not rushing things and allowing people to come to him whenever they were ready. No. The person he had in mind the entire night and kept him from resting would never go to him, pride and uncertainty preventing her from taking risks with him. Yet one step too far could mean three steps back, and then none of it would be worth it.

Mor was right, he was not being his old self as he took a cold shower, put on his leathers, and flew to the River House to put Rhys' plan for tonight into motion. Cassian was not being the illyrian Commander they had always known when he stepped into Hewn City armed to his teeth and ready to improvise and do absolutely everything his heart asked him to do.

[annabethy]

Um, How about... Percy comes home from a tired day at work and Annabeth is there to cheer him up....

in which Percy’s crying, and Annabeth always knows how to help,, percabeth

Percy’s always felt as though he wasn’t cut out for a job. He tries hard enough, but he struggles to handle the dedication that comes with it, and the constant remarks from his superior. Usually he is able to brush it off with a smile, but today is not one of those days.

It starts early in the morning when he’s stuck in traffic and only builds from there. He gets yelled at immediately upon walking into his work building. Everything that can go wrong does go wrong – he blames Murphy’s law ­— and by the time an hour past the end of his shift rolls around and he’s ready to leave, he is on the verge of tears.

The ride home is uneventful. Percy doesn’t even put on any music, preferring to sit in silence and get his emotions under control because he is well aware of who is waiting for him at home with a smile on their face, and he doesn’t have it in him to ruin it just because he’s had a bad day. He throws on as much of a smile as he is able to muster, but he doesn’t even look in the mirror because he knows that his eyes betray it all. Still, he is able to hold the tears from falling down.

All hopes of maintaining his composure go flying out the window the second he unlocks the front door and sees Annabeth sitting in the middle of the living room, surrounded by blankets and pillows she’s pulled from their bedroom.

Percy doesn’t intend on bursting into tears when he sees her, but something inside of him breaks. It’s a reaction he couldn’t hold back. Maybe it’s because he knows he can’t hide it from her no matter how hard he tries, or maybe it’s because he trusts her enough to not hide how he’s feeling. He doesn’t have time to contemplate it anyways because Annabeth’s wide grin quickly falls into a look of concern, and his heart shatters into two knowing the stress he’s causing her.

“Are you okay?”

Percy turns around to shut and lock the door, wiping at his eyes once before turning around. “I’m okay,” he manages to say, but the way his voice wavers gives him away.

She struggles to stand up off of the ground, but her legs are tangled in blankets and her center of gravity is already off as it is, so he moves to her instead. Annabeth’s hand reaches for his and tugs. He reads her wordless request and settles down onto the floor.

“You’re crying,” she notes, low and alarmed.

Her thumb flicks away the tears as they fall one by one. It brings him a semblance of comfort, but it also makes him feel guilty. She’s been home alone all day waiting for him to get off of work, and now that he’s finally home, he’s crying over something he can’t even put into words. She shouldn’t have to worry about him when she has enough to worry about as it is.

“I’m okay,” he repeats, whispered. “It was just a really long day.”

“What happened?” He tries to smile through the tears, sniffling slightly. “Don’t worry about it,” he says, kissing her knuckles softly. “Tell me about you. How are my two favorite girls?”

Annabeth frowns but crawls towards him slightly. She pushes his shoulders back so that he falls against the front end of the couch before she gets on his lap, facing him, and settles her arms around him in a hug. Her face rests against the crook of his neck, and he tightens his grip on her.

“Your two favorite girls want to know why you’re sad.”

Percy chokes out a laugh, but the tears just fall harder. It’s a bit humorous that he was able to hold himself together until the moment that he saw her when the whole point was to do the exact opposite. “I don’t know,” he tells her. “Just a bad day at work.”

Annabeth pulls back to pout, and Percy caresses her round stomach, stifling a genuine smile when he feels the kick back against his palm. “Tell me about it?”

Percy would, but he knows he can’t. The second he starts to speak about it, he just knows it’ll get to the point that he can’t breathe. He doesn’t want to put her in a position like that, even if he knows she won’t mind. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he says to her.

“I want to help,” she says softly, leaning forward to kiss his cheek where another tear falls. “Please?”

“You’re helping just by being here.” Percy kisses her properly. “You’re all I need.”

Annabeth hums in disagreement and reaches out for something out of his vision. He doesn’t turn his head, knowing she’ll show it to him soon enough. She ends up leaving his lap for a second, forcing Percy to let go of her reluctantly, but she’s back a second later with something in hand that makes him roll his glossy eyes fondly.

Annabeth waves the stuffed animal around in her hand. “It’s an octopus!”

“I can see that,” he says, accepting the gift she shoves into his hand.

She forces her way back onto his lap, twisting slightly onto her side so that she can lay on top of him without her stomach being squished between the two of them. The toy is snatched from his hands and pushed inside out, changing the previously blue octopus with a smiley face into a red frowny-faced octopus.

“Sad Percy gets the sad octopus,” she says, waving it in his face. She makes the octopus kiss him on the nose before giving it back to him. When he doesn’t move, she nudges him gently. “Play with the octopus, Percy. You’ll feel better”

Percy turns it around so he can pretend it kisses her back on the nose before setting it down on the floor and tugging her in closer. “I love you,” he whispers into the top of her head.

“I love you more,” she says, deciding to pepper kisses anywhere on his face and neck that he can reach. “I’m sorry you had a bad day.”

“It’s alright.” His words come out muffled against her head. He lifts his head to smile at her, but the smile still isn’t reaching his eyes. He’s absolutely exhausted from the tears alone. His hands caress up and down her back. “I just need to go to sleep for a bit, I think.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while, instead staring at him while he does his best to look anywhere except at her. He looks around the living room as her eyes burn holes into him, and his attention is brought back to the mess of blankets and pillows.

“I like what you did to the place,” he says lightly.

“I thought we could make forts when you got home.”

The statement makes his heart stop as he looks back at her. Her eyes look sad and concerned, and another wave of guilt washes over him. “Let’s make a fort then.”

She shakes her head no.

“You had this planned already,” he says. “I’d feel bad if we didn’t.”

“We can make forts tomorrow,” she tells him earnestly. She nuzzles his neck with her nose. “Let’s just go to bed and snuggle until you feel better instead.”

He’s about to give in, but then he decides against it. He’s happy as long as Annabeth’s happy, and if she wants to build a fort, he thinks he can put up with it just this once. He kisses her once and says, “Let’s make a fort, and then we can watch movies and cuddle in it all night, okay?”

And so they do.

It doesn’t take long for Percy to be glad that he made this decision. Just seeing her smile and do her excited waddle as she goes to grab a stretchy blanket puts him in a happy mood. Percy highly suggests marrying your best friend because this… It’s otherworldly. Marrying his best friend means he gets to go home in the worst possible mood and have the entire day switch around at the sound of her laugh, and the soft brush of her fingers against his.

Later when they’re both beneath the precariously built fort, Percy doesn’t think he’s ever been so happy. Tears begin to well in his eyes again, but this time, they’re of love and joy. They’re on top of piles of pillows, both snuggled up to fit under one blanket, he can hardly remember what had upset him in the first place. Annabeth’s head is on top of his arm, out like a light, and Percy can’t resist kissing her softly on the lips. Her lips twitch up into a subtle smile, but she continues sleeping against him.

She’s able to make him feel better with nothing more than a single touch, and he knows that he has it lucky. In only a few months, something that is much closer than it feels, they’re going to have a baby, and he just knows that she’s going to be so loving and perfect.

“You’re going to be the world’s best mommy,” he whispers, though he knows she won’t hear it. He doesn’t mind though, because he’ll tell her again tomorrow, and the day after, and every day after that. He loves her more than life itself, especially on days when life seems out to get him because she makes it so that everything is okay.

When he falls asleep himself, it’s with a smile on his face, and his heart bursting with love.

[jungkookiebus]

Overprotective | jjk

Genre: bf2l, smut, angst Pairing: jungkook x reader Rating: M Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: there is domestic abuse, mostly mental, but there is mentions of physical, Jungkook beats the shit out of someone, if violence bothers you DO NOT READ THIS, cunnilingus, unprotected sex. Summary: Jungkook had been your friend for long enough to know that something was wrong and seeing you spiraling in your current relationship had him on edge. It all comes to a head at a house party when he witnesses the abuse firsthand, throwing him into a blind rage that has him throwing your boyfriend into the front lawn.  Author’s Note: Angry jjk in the ON mv got me in my feelings. Thanks. @bulletproofbirdy​

“Are you coming tonight?”

Jungkook sat on the edge of your bed scrolling through his phone.

“Hm?” he asked absently. You looked over to see his face illuminated by the eyesight ruining blue light of his phone. It highlighted the scar on his cheek. He scrunched his nose as he sniffed but didn’t look away from his phone.

“The party. At Hobi’s,” you said as you began removing your clothing and pulling dresses off hangers from your closet.

He finally looked up as you were pulling a gold dress up passed your hips and adjusting the straps on your shoulders.

“Are you really going to wear that?” he asked while gesturing his phone at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Seems like overkill maybe.”

Jungkook was your best friend of almost seven years. Seven years filled with happiness, sadness, and sometimes downright aggravation. Like now.

“It’s not that kind of party, _____, it’s chill.” He paused for a second and chewed his lip. “Is Cheol going to be there?”

You suddenly stopped mid-waist as you were pulling the dress back off. Jungkook had seen every which version of you there was to see. His favorite was high _____ trying to get to the bathroom before she wet her pants. Any shyness you had around Jungkook in the beginning was replaced by blind trust and a totally comfortable space around him. You had met Jungkook at a very similar party. He had tried to hook up with you and you had turned him down with such drunken gusto that he was immediately taken with you romantic or not. Later that night when your friend had, naturally, left you to go with some guy, you were stuck on the front lawn, mascara running from cry laughing at Jin’s dumb jokes, missing a left shoe, and a little hopeless. He sidled up to you as you scrolled through your contacts trying to figure out how to get home.

“Need help?” he asked after clearing his throat.

You had looked up at him, sneered, and went right back to scrolling.

His eyebrows shot up into his hair in amusement, a small smile forming on his face. He then leaned down closer to you and was looking at your phone screen.

“Can I help you?” you had slurred as you hid the screen against your chest.

“Let me get you home. Your friend obviously left you.”

You bent over, eyes crossing as you imitated the Spongebob meme.

“YoUr FrIeNd oBviOuSly lEft YoU. No shit Sherlock.”

You hadn’t expected him to start laughing so hard. Soon, he was unable to breathe, red faced as tears streamed down his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” You hadn’t expected him to answer. His laughter had him clutching his stomach in mock agony.

“I think I’m in love with you, let’s go,” he had said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along behind him.

And that was how you became friends with Jungkook. It had all started with a pass that turned into hanging out and playing video games every weekend, to sleepovers, and then to practically living together despite having your own apartments. Your current boyfriend was not happy with the fact that Jungkook was with you most of the time.

“He’ll be there.”

You saw him bristle.

“Why do you like him?”

“Jungkook, not this again.”

Time and time again, Jungkook had seen you come home a little broken. At first, he thought maybe it was a tiny argument. You’d shrug off any concerns he had and told him you were just tired. He would watch you as you walked, shoulders slumped, and disappear into your room. The next day you would be perfectly fine, talking to him as if things were just as they should be. Then you started coming home, eyes puffy from crying and wiping your nose on your hand. Again, he’d ask you if everything was okay. ‘Just a little fight.’ He started to worry, but you told him everything would be okay. Months passed and you became withdrawn. The life left your eyes, your smile faded, and you started to spend more time at your apartment alone or with Cheol. Whenever he would go to your apartment in search of you and Cheol was there, he would either find a way to get rid of Jungkook or sulk behind you when Jungkook pushed passed him. Either way, Jungkook knew he was isolating you from him. Any attempt to talk to you would turn into an argument.

One day, you came into Jungkook’s office with a busted lip, fresh tears that were drying over the others, and holding your arms across your stomach defensively. He had jumped up from his chair and rounded his desk, reaching behind you to slam the door before grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded. Anger was hot in his veins. He was shaking with it.

You began to cry harder as your head met his chest and all he could think of doing right now was keeping you as safe as possible, whatever that meant. He held you tightly, encased you in his arms, probably for the first time in months, he realized. You seemed smaller, skinnier, and all around weaker. His hand came up to your head and he noticed your once shiny, sleek hair was now lackluster and thin. Something else was wrong here.

“Please,” he whispered, “tell me what is wrong.”

“Cheol…,” you had whispered. But that was all he needed to hear.

“I’m going to kill him.”

You were suddenly defensive. Pushing him away you stepped back.

“It was my fault,” you stuttered. “I shouldn’t have tried to argue with him. Really, Jungkook, I deserved it.”

His heart shattered into a million pieces. His once beautiful, full of life best friend was falling into the clutches of abuse and she was pushing him away.

“Let me help you,” his voice wavered as he tentatively held out his hand.

“I don’t need you, Jungkook,” you had spat bitterly.

Before he had any more time to react, you were out of his door, and down the stairs. He had wanted nothing more than to chase after you, but he knew if he wanted to keep some type of watch on you, he’d have to back off.

And he was right. A few weeks later you texted him telling him everything was okay, and you wanted to hang out again. You still looked dull and sad, but he tried his best to stay out of your business in order to keep you close.

You pulled a black dress from your closet and started to pull it on.

“Things are better. Really. We talked it out and he’s gotten better.”

All Jungkook could do was scoff. Once an asshole, always an asshole. That’s what he really wanted to say but he opted to just stay silent.

“Don’t come if you’re just gonna be a grouch the whole time.”

“Fuck you, I’m going,” he said as he laid back against your bed.

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice. Unless someone wants to start shit with me, I’m going to behave myself.” He went back to scrolling through his phone. “And wear that one.”

He didn’t once look at you, but you sighed and decided you were tired of trying on clothes anyway as you continued to get ready. Thirty minutes later and you walked up to the front door of Hobi’s house together. As soon as you stepped inside Cheol was at your side, grabbing your upper arm and leading you towards the kitchen for drinks. You looked back at Jungkook who was still standing in the doorway, eyes locked with yours. You saw fear and sadness there. All at once you felt angry, but his fear was shared. You were angry that Jungkook didn’t trust you, angry that Cheol treated you poorly, but would then be so loving…it was your fault somehow.

“Let me get you a drink,” Cheol said, releasing your arm. He didn’t hold you as hard as usual. That was good. He probably wasn’t mad that you walked in with Jungkook.

“How was your day?” you asked. He never asked you first. He either waited for you to say something or he would immediately jump into something that had happened to him. Nine times out of ten, when you started to talk about your day, he would cut you off. It got to the point where you didn’t even try anymore. That’s when you would text Jungkook, or call if Cheol left, and he would listen and try to give advice the best he could. He’d always end the conversation with a ‘I love you. Please tell me if you need help.’ You would halfheartedly affirm him that you would before hanging up. You were too embarrassed to let Jungkook into your real life now. If he knew, he’d try to get you to leave. You were happy. The bad days weren’t as often, but they didn’t exactly go away either.

“Ah, you know,” he said while he made your drink, but never looked up at you. He never did. “Just another day with those bastards that think they can tell me how to do my job.”

According to him, everyone at his office were idiots, yet he rubbed noses with them every day. You just hummed to let him know you heard but didn’t offer any words. He never wanted advice and he sure as hell didn’t want to hear about you.

“Let’s go,” he said while handing you a drink. He turned without a backwards glance, expecting you to follow dutifully. Which you did. He walked up to a circle of his friends and began chatting immediately, ignoring the fact that you were even there.

You sipped awkwardly on your drink as you scanned the room. You were very much on the outside of the circle, cut off by shoulders that were all above your head. You’d have to duck in between them if you wanted to say anything. Not that they wanted you to contribute. That’s when you spotted Jimin. About that time, he also saw you and began to wave emphatically. You met Jimin at the coffee shop you frequented before classes and you both soon were on the same coffee schedule, expecting to see the other every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. You’d stand in line together and talk about your weekend, classes, and whatever came up. You found out you had a similar friend in Hobi a couple of weeks into your friendship and soon began seeing him at his parties. You considered Jimin a good friend and his infectious laugh always brought a smile to your face. His eyes disappeared as he smiled harder, waving you over. Of course, you went on your own accord. Cheol didn’t even notice that you had walked away.

Minutes passed, you weren’t counting because when Jimin was telling you about some ridiculous group project he was in, time didn’t matter. Without noticing, Jimin had nonchalantly draped his arm across your shoulders as he laughed and talked. You didn’t think anything of it and neither did he. His face was red from the alcohol and he was laughing so hard, drool escaped the corner of his mouth, causing you to double over. He was still attached to you as you both bent over in laughter. On your vacant side, you felt four sharp fingernails dig into your upper arm. You yelped as you were yanked away. Jimin stumbled back in surprise but kept his footing.

“What are you doing?” Cheol seethed. His eyes were on Jimin and if looks could kill, Jimin would be dead and turned to dust on the floor.

Jimin’s eyes shifted to your terror filled ones. You willed Jimin to relent. Please don’t say anything, you begged internally.

He didn’t even spare Cheol a look as he looked directly at you.

“_____ are you okay?”

This time Cheol looked at you. You could feel the anger roiling off him. It heated your skin and made you dizzy. Your knees were locked and cutting off your blood supply. The room swirled a little as you shrank in fear.

“And what were you doing?” He almost spat in your face. His fingers dug harder into your arm and you felt the first tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Please not here,” you begged as you tried to pry his fingers from your arm.

That only made him angrier. People were starting to notice and look at you. Jimin was sobering up quickly and was about to say something again when you heard it.

Your mind was hazy as your thoughts raced, trying to figure out every possible solution to this situation. It was a growl? Roar? You weren’t sure what it was at first, but it was loud. Someone was very, very angry. You could hear them yell, deep and guttural, somewhere close by.

“You fucking son of a bitch, don’t fucking touch her!”

That’s when Cheol’s gripped was ripped from you. He was still holding tightly, and his fingernails dug painfully into your skin, but he soon lost his grip and you were sent to the side. When you could catch your bearings, you righted yourself to figure out what the hell had just happened. Jungkook stood, fists clenched and the knuckles on his right hand a bloody pink. You had never seen him with that look before, at least never directed at you. Hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred is how you would describe it. His eyes were black, and anger burned there. Suddenly, his soft features you loved so much were sharp and menacing. This was a Jungkook you didn’t know and one you didn’t wish to encounter again. His chest heaved as he breathed hard, trying to contain himself as Cheol scrambled up from the floor and launched himself at Jungkook. You screamed as he collided with Jungkook’s chest, shoving him backwards, but Jungkook was good on his feet. He managed to keep his hands on Cheol’s shoulders, stepping back in time with him as his back connected with the closest wall. Cheol tried to take a swing at Jungkook, but he was too drunk to aim correctly. Jungkook dodged him easily before he landed a punch to his stomach. He stumbled backwards, coughing, but either the alcohol or sheer stupidity had him standing up somewhat tall in the face of a fuming Jungkook. Jungkook clearly had not been drinking as he stood his ground steadily, waiting for Cheol to make a move.

“You want that slut,” Cheol sneered, pointing a shaky finger at you. “You can have her. I used her all up anyway.”

You thought that Jungkook was going to explode like a star and take everyone with him. His gaze darkened as he surged forward, grabbed a stunned Cheol by his collar and literally swept him off his feet with one kick of his foot, and began dragging him through the house. The crowd parted like a fog around a car, immediately closing in on them so they could see what Jungkook was about to do. The crowd piled out of the front door after them as Jungkook drug a kicking Cheol down the front steps. You tried to push passed all the people, but the crowd was closing in and you were desperate to get outside. When you were able to make it out the front door and to the porch you saw Jungkook drop Cheol on the front lawn before sitting on his chest. You saw his fist raise and before you could intervene as you stumbled down the steps, you heard the sickening crack as he connected with his face.

You could not believe this was happening right now. Jungkook had really lost his mind.

“You don’t love her, stupid mother fucker,” Jungkook growled as he grasped his shirt in his left fist and raised his fist once more.

Crack.

You winced and turned away as Jungkook yet again, connected with Cheol’s face.

His fist came back into the air, bloody, skin split, but he didn’t even seem to notice as he directed his anger on Cheol.

“And you’re sure as hell never touching her again.”

This time, the hit sounded wet. When you looked back, you could tell Cheol was out cold.

“Jungkook, please!” you called out. At the sound of your voice Jungkook froze and seemed to snap out of it. He turned and looked at your pained expression as you begged him to stop. He dropped his hand and looked down at Cheol’s bloody face.

Hobi came running from inside the house, leaping off the porch in one bound and was pulling Jungkook off him.

“What the fuck, Jungkook?!” Hobi was looking from him to Cheol to assess the damage.

Cheol’s friends were now surrounding as Hobi pulled Jungkook away from the scene, sternly telling him he needed to leave before another fight broke out and he called the cops.

That’s when you knew you had a decision to make.

Cheol lay completely still in the grass, left eye swelling, and blood pouring from his bottom lip. If you guessed correctly, his nose was probably broken too. You were finally able to see him for who he truly was; a manipulative bastard that never loved you but wanted you to himself. He was ugly inside and out and all it took was seeing him finally being reduced to nothing. Gone was the “tough” exterior of Cheol. Your eyes met Jungkook’s from across the yard. He still looked angry, but you saw fear there too. He saw your eyes flicker to Cheol again and he knew you were trying to decide between the two. He didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t at least act like you were going to walk his way. But you had already decided. Cheol had his “friends”. They all fussed over him now deciding who was going to take him to the ER. None of them even turned to find you. You walked past the group and straight into the arms of Jungkook.

“Let’s go home,” he said shakily. His adrenaline was ebbing, and he was starting to feel the repercussions of his actions.

Ten minutes into the thirty minute walk and you were reduced to a sobbing mess. The night and all the things leading up to it were easily being stored away as they happened, as your brain always did to protect you. But now that there was a whole added element of worry you weren’t expecting, you didn’t know how to feel so naturally you began to panic. On top of that, your feet were starting to bleed from your heels. The entire time, Jungkook was next to you, arm around your waist as you walked. He was the one that needed help walking, not you, yet here he was making sure you were okay.

“Hey, everything’s okay,” he whispered as he stopped.

Your body felt spent as if you had stayed up for hours on end; exhaustion finally settling into your bones. After the initial shock had settled, you suddenly feared for Jungkook, knowing what Cheol was capable of doing.

“Jungkook…,” you cried. You reached down and pulled your heels off. On top of being frustrated, scared, and tired your feet were in so much pain you could barely stand it.

He looked down and sighed.

“Oh, baby…,” he said sympathetically.

The sentiment made your heart skip a beat, but it was something you could think about later. He waited until you were upright before he scooped you up bridal style.

“Jungkook, you don’t have-,” you started before he cut you off with a ‘shh’. You looked down at his bloody knuckles, the skin very angry in some spots where he split them open. He paid no mind as he held you close, and you let your head fall against his shoulder. His breathing was steady as he carried you and he didn’t say a word the whole way. In no time, he was buzzing into your building and carrying you up the stairs. He only sat you down at your door so you could fish out your key. Once inside, he ensured the door was locked and the window leading to the fire escape.

“We gotta clean up your hand,” you said almost robotically as you moved on instinct towards the bathroom.

“____,” he said while reaching out to stop you and you flinched.

For the second time, you broke his heart as you jumped as if he were going to hit you.

“It’s okay,” he reassured as he ran his hand down your hair.

You started to cry again, but this time you didn’t feel as if the panic would consume and kill you. You felt bad for Jungkook.

You didn’t say anything as you guided him to the bathroom and he sat down on the edge of the tub as you pulled a first aid kit out from the cabinet. You sat on the toilet, knees to knees, as you grabbed his hand and sat it on your thigh. Grabbing a washcloth, you held it next to his hand as you carefully poured peroxide over the cuts. He watched you intently as you focused on the work at hand. In the moments Jungkook had you away from Cheol was when that fake exterior would start to melt little by little. When you were around Jungkook, you relaxed and were yourself. He’d see old pieces of you come back from time to time and he felt like he got his best friend back, until you went home to him. He felt angry again as he thought about what Cheol took away from him, what he took away from you, but he kept it to himself as you reached for antibacterial cream and some butterfly band-aids.

“What were you thinking?” you finally whispered.

You were still working slowly, paying attention to each knuckle.

What was he thinking? Part of him was blinded by anger and the other part knew exactly what it was doing. He wanted to beat the shit out of Cheol, had wanted to for quite some time. This time he was able to witness him put his hands on you, so he felt justified.

“I didn’t like seeing you get hurt,” he mumbled. He was embarrassed now, but he didn’t regret what he had done.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you sighed as you reached for some gauze to wrap his hand.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Jungkook to say, but the air felt different. There was a tension you could taste, and you felt Jungkook struggling to say something.

“I could be so much better to you.” He sounded as if he were going to cry. “You don’t deserve to be treated that way, _____. Please tell me you’ll leave him. I’m scared for you.”

You felt him looking at your face now and you were almost afraid to look at him as you put the final touches on his hand. His eyes were pleading when you finally looked at him.

If you couldn’t love him back, he at least wanted you to promise him that you’d leave the asshole.

He was right. All this time when he tried to keep you close and you pushed him away, he was in fear for your life. The person you thought should care for you could not care less, and the person that loved you the most was a phone call away and your best friend. You were blind to what you had when Cheol made himself the center of your universe. But Jungkook was loyal when he didn’t need to be, always there when you needed to fall into his arms no matter how much it hurt to see you walk out of his door.

Many nights he’d cry knowing you were going back into the clutches of Cheol and he was helpless to do anything. He’d daydream about killing Cheol or waiting for him to get off work and punch him in the face as he tried to get in his car. Yes, he was thinking extremely, but he was afraid.

Tonight was the last straw for Jungkook.

“I’d never hurt you, ____,” he said, lowly, defeated.

You loooked at the front of his jacket, focused on his buttons as you tried to distract yourself.

“I love you, too,” you murmured.

Jungkook leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, then to your temple, and the top of your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered shut as he softly placed his hands under your jaw, holding you gently, fingers barely grazing your skin as he kissed across your nose. You leaned your face into one of his hands and he took the moment to tilt your face upwards as he placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I want to show you what love should feel like, _____,” he whispered against your lips, but he wasn’t touching you.

You shivered. It had been so long since someone treated you this way and honestly it scared you. If you mess up something would he be mad at you? You felt as if you were always doing something wrong.

He seemed to feel your apprehension and sighed, not out of frustration, but a sadness he couldn’t seem to shake. Cheol had effectively beaten you basically to nothing, mostly mentally. He wanted to be angry again, but he needed to hold back for you.

He placed his lips softly against yours, not expecting anything from you. He let you take your time as you kissed him back. Happiness began to bubble in his chest as you reciprocated his feelings.

This felt right. Jungkook wasn’t rushing you. He didn’t expect anything from you. He wasn’t demanding you to pleasure him. He let you lead as you kissed him. It heated fast as you sat a little straighter and wrapped an arm around his neck. His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer, but the limited space in the bathroom and your legs kept him from getting much closer.

He stood swiftly, bringing you with him and guided you to your room, working on muscle memory as he focused on you the whole way. You felt shy under his gaze since half the time Cheol didn’t even want to look at you. He studied you as if you would fall apart at any moment. His fingers intwined with yours and he was gentle. He didn’t reach for your wrist or your arm or grip you so tightly that his fingers dug into your skin. You began to relax little by little as he stood you in front of your bed. He reached for the hem of your dress and looked at you for permission. You nodded slowly as he started to pull the dress up passed your hips and you raised your arms to help him. He stopped and removed his jacket and then his jeans followed by his shirt, putting you on equal ground.

“Are you okay?” He seemed genuinely concerned as he kept his movements slow, not wanting to startle or rush you. He ran his hand softly up your arm and squeezed your shoulder gently before pulling you into his warm embrace. The skin on skin contact comforted you and it brought back memories of nights snuggled up next to Jungkook before Cheol came into your life and ruined that. For the first time in months you didn’t feel scared or useless. Jungkook’s actions said it all.

He held you there for a few moments, ensuring you were okay. He knew you were vulnerable and didn’t want you to think he was taking advantage of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

You felt a small sob get stuck in your throat.

“You’re wonderful, and smart, and the most adventurous person I know. Remember the first we did something together out of town? You convinced me to go ghost hunting at that abandoned hospital and all we found was a family of raccoons and a homeless guy.”

He laughed as a you giggled a little, sniffing, and smiling as you remembered Jungkook’s screams when the raccoon walked up behind him.

He ran his fingers through your hair and massaged the back of your head as you leaned against his chest.

“I love the way you look in the morning when you first wake up, like a steamed bun.”

You laughed again.

“Or the way you sing in the shower. I must say you have improved over the years. I love when you put my blanket in the dryer before I come over and it’s cold out. Those ham sandwiches?! I don’t know what you put on them, but I’d fight a kid over one if I had to.”

Your laugh was music. This is what he wanted. He wanted all of you. He wanted you to know that all of you was worth having, that you meant something, a human being deserving of love. He had loved you for years, but your friendship meant more to him than his silly feelings. Seeing you suffer made him regret not saying anything sooner.

“Can I show you?” he asked.

You knew what he meant. He didn’t have to say more as you pulled him into another kiss in affirmation. He reached behind you, snapping the clasp easily, and slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders, letting it fall. He had seen you naked hundreds of times for various reasons, but never this. Now, you were in front of him giving yourself to him and he was elated to get the chance. He cupped your breast lightly and squeezed a little, testing your limits. You moaned and leaned into him, nipping at his bottom lip. He moaned into the kiss as you buried your hands in his hair. He then wrapped his arms around you, gently laying you back amongst the blankets without breaking the kiss. He kissed the underside of your jaw, nipped gently at the skin of your neck, and placed small kisses to your breast before wrapping his lips around your nipple. Your skin tingled as he sucked gently and ran his tongue over it. Your whines spurred him on as you held on tighter and arched your back into him. He caressed every inch of skin he could reach. The soft gauze tickled across your skin as his hand glided down to your thigh. He directed his kisses between your chest now, kissing down your stomach. He was worshipping your body the way it was meant to be. He noticed some older bruises sprinkled across your skin and made sure to kiss every single one, soothing your anxiety. His fingers caught in the band of your underwear and pulled them down. Using the back of his hand, he pushed gently against your inner thigh and you spread your legs for him. You felt shy, but all once wholly comfortable. He had seen the best and worst parts of you, what was one more thing? This felt intimate in a different way, on a deeper level. He understood your body before he even got to touch you. Hands gripping the insides of your thighs, he kissed along the flesh there.

Some years ago, you were standing in the kitchen washing dishes, wearing one of Jungkook’s discarded shirts, and a pair of shorts. He had walked in to give you a glass when he looked down and ran his finger up a stretch mark on your thigh.

“I like these,” he had said with a smile before walking from the room.

The memory warmed you now as he placed wet kisses to the dimpled and marked expanse of your thighs. He blew a stream of warm air over your wet center and you moaned and shuddered. You tried closing your legs so you could feel some friction, but he kept your thighs apart with a firm hand. He moved his hands further up your inner thighs, almost cupping your sex as he flattened his hands and spread you to get a better look.

“You’re fucking beautiful, ____. You know that right?”

He watched your face twist as he teased you. Knowing that you wanted him had him grinding his own hips into the blanket. No. He wanted to feel you around him before he reached any sort of end. He licked up your center and you moaned gutturally, grabbing at your own breasts as you bent your knees to frame his head. He kept you spread as he covered you with his mouth, tongue dancing along your clit. Your juices mixed with his spit and his chin practically dripped with it all. He had never tasted anything better. The sounds you were giving him were like an orchestra of angels. He wanted you to feel his adoration as he ate you out with fervor. He dipped his tongue inside of you and soon his name was rolling off your tongue like raindrops.

“A-ah, Jungkook,” you sighed as he inserted his middle finger inside of you.

You swallowed him in a velvety wetness that had his cock twitching amongst the cotton, and he ground his hips, moaning into your cunt as he thought about you swallowing his cock. You cried out as his moans stimulated something inside of you that had you teetering on the edge of a cataclysmic orgasm. Cheol never bothered to do this to you. He either used your mouth or your cunt, whether you came or not. You couldn’t remember the last time you had an orgasm. Jungkook was moaning more now, working his finger up inside of you, and suckling at your swollen clit. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe as your body tensed, orgasm hitting you with a force you hadn’t felt in a while. He continued licking and lapping at you as if he wanted every drop, nudging his perfectly sloped nose into your sensitive clit.

“P-please,” you stuttered. You watched him through half closed eyes as he took a few long licks up your cunt before licking his own lips and smiling at you. He reached for your hands, intertwining your fingers as he kissed up your stomach again.

He let go of your hand to push your hair off your sweaty forehead and placed a kiss on the end of your nose.

“Please what?” he asked you before placing a quick kiss on your lips.

“Make love to me?”

His eyes slid shut slowly as he replayed the phrase a thousand times in quick successions. He was kissing you again. Passionately. He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the head up and down your slit, coating the tip. You moaned and circled your hips wanting more of him. He pushed in slowly, face nestled into your neck, committing to memory every feeling he was experiencing right now.

“I love you so much, ____,” he murmured against your skin.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his back, the other hand tangled in his hair and holding him against your chest.

“Fuck, Jungkook, oh my god.” You were gasping as he stretched you and reached places Cheol only thought he could. “I love you.”

He pressed into you further as he brought his stomach down to yours. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass trying to get him even deeper. He grunted as he began to slowly thrust into you, concentrating on not coming too soon.

You ground your hips upwards, rotating just a little with each thrust. Your hand slipped along his back as sweat formed on his skin. His breathing quickened as he thrust faster and faster. His fingers were intwined with yours, your hand on the pillow above you while his other arm was reached underneath you and holding the hair at your nape.

“F-fuck-k.” You had him stuttering as you squeezed around him. For years he wondered what you felt like, jealous of any guy you were dating but too chicken shit to ask you out himself. Now you were here, still trusting him to protect you, and giving yourself fully.

“I want you to come, baby.” He gripped your hair hard and you moaned. Your fingers tightened in his and he felt so euphoric he wouldn’t even have cared if he didn’t get to come, but you had him so hungry for you that he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last. He released your hair to bring his hand between the two of you and pressing a couple of fingers against your clit.

You gasped loudly as he began to circle your clit slowly and then faster and faster. Your toes curled inwards and you dug yours heels even harder into him as he snapped his hips against you quickly. He skillfully moved his fingers on your clit while biting the space beneath your ear. You were seeing stars before your eyes rolled back and you were forced to close them. You could swear that your body was checking out. You felt high and Jungkook was your drug of choice. He felt you tighten around him and he could practically feel your impending orgasm.

“That’s it, baby, come on my cock. God I wanna make you feel like this forever.”

The sincerity in his voice, his cock brushing every erogenous zone there was, and his fingers sent your orgasm soaring. Electricity seemed to flow from where you were connected to your limbs where your fingers and toes tingled.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathed as he quickened his thrusts. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.” His voice almost became a whine as he thrust harder and harder, hand gripping your waist, and singing praises about you against your skin.

You felt his cum as he filled you up. His moan was long and deep, thrusting, and milking himself inside of you. You were his now and he wasn’t letting you go.

When the stimulation became too much, he stilled inside of you. His breathing started to even out and soon the only sounds was your soft breathing. After a few minutes had passed and you had suspected him to be drifting, he sat up and looked down at you.

“Let me protect you,” he said softly, voice trailing off at the end.

You believed him. You relaxed for the first time in what felt like months. You could finally be yourself with no repercussions and Jungkook was adamant in making you feel as loved as possible. You tried to hold back your tears but the dam broke when he looked at you so lovingly.

“Baby, _____,” he cooed as he used his thumb to brush away a few tears.

You clung to him desperately, feeling as if he were to let go, you’d be exposed to more harm. He shifted to his side and pulled you into his chest, drawing his legs inwards to curl you even closer to him.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered. He could hear the fear laced in your tone. His heart ached and tightened in his chest.

“Never,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

It wouldn’t be easy getting you back to the carefree person he once knew, but he was willing to take the time. Being there for you had always been his focus, so a little setback was all he needed to be with you that much more. His wish was for you to get your confidence back, to see you dancing in the kitchen while making pancakes, and to see that sparkle in your eye when you looked at him. It would take time, but for you, he was willing to wait an eternity.

[seijorhi]

Hi, found your work. You do great writing the characters so well. If I may request an Aizawa story. He's had his kidnapped darling for a while and she's been "good",but he has doubts so he starts to "test" her to see if she would run; like leaving a window or door unlocked and he watches her to see if she really stays or takes the chance to leave him. Meanwhile, darling does notice all this but she's not sure what to do. Sorry if this is long, but I think it could be interesting.

Of course, bby!

TW Stockholm syndrome, implied non-con, captive reader

Shouta Aizawa x female reader

Little Bird

It shouldn’t bother you as much as it does.

There’s no reason that the sight of an open window should make you feel anything, much less the quiet unease that’s been slowly gnawing at you since morning.

It’s a warm day, the lingering summer heat more oppressive than usual, yet instead of turning on the AC as he usually does, Shouta chose instead to crack the window. A small, thoughtless gesture. You hadn’t even noticed until halfway through the late breakfast he’d painstakingly prepared for you, you’d felt the cool breeze tickle your skin, gently ruffling your feathered wings.

It was nice. A soothing balm against the building heat of the day. Your eyes had fallen shut, a soft, sleepy smile crossing your face, and for one perfect moment, you’d let yourself enjoy it.

You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt it, the breath of fresh air kissing at your feathers.

Because you didn’t fly anymore.

He didn’t want you needlessly risking yourself like that.

Because the windows were always shut.

Locked.

Because it was safer that way. Just like the padlocked front door with all of its chains - all the extra precautions were solely for the sake of your protection.

You knew this. You understood it.

So why did the sight of an open window make your heart seize, your breath stutter?

You hadn’t even heard him come up behind you, so caught up in the rush of… what exactly? Emotions? Your thoughts? The slow unease creeping up your spine?

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” he’s asked, jerking you bodily back to the present.

Swallowing harshly, you’d forced a smile onto your lips, shaking your head as you tried to remember how to speak. “I-it’s just hot,” you’d managed to stutter.

He’d hummed in quiet agreement, draping his arms over your shoulders to press an indulgent kiss to the crown of your head.

You’d relaxed into the comfort of his embrace, and that should have been the end of it - but it wasn’t.

Being one of his rare days completely off, Shouta’s determined to do as little as possible, which usually means spending the day curled up on the couch together - Shou reading, fingers gliding absentmindedly through the downy soft feathers of your wings. You’d come to love days like that, when he didn’t have to leave. He’d always make you feel so safe, so adored in his arms. Even the lazy kisses that almost always led to lazy lovemaking - the two of you entwined on the cushions, his hips leisurely grinding into yours as he peppers your skin with ardent affection - they’re something you’ve learned to crave.

Nobody else can treat you as well as he can. Nobody else can love you like he does, and he loves you so much.

You’re his angel, his treasure, his soulmate - the one thing on this earth that he can’t live without.

He adores you, takes care of you… letting him hold you close and shower you in that devotion should have been as easy as breathing.

Except today, no matter how hard you try, you just can’t settle. You tell him it’s the heat that’s making you restless, and it’s technically not a lie, but it’s far from the whole truth.

You can’t stop looking at the open window. It’s only cracked an inch or so, but that doesn’t really make much of a difference when it shouldn’t be open at all.

It’s locked for your safety, he’s told you a thousand times. The city below is teeming with a seedy underbelly of violence and corruption, and being the wife of a Pro Hero paints a lovely target on your back.

“Do you know how many of them would jump at the chance to take you from me? To hurt you as a means to get to me? Do you have any idea the awful kinds of things they would do to something so pure… so defenceless…”

You understand that, you know why you can’t leave the apartment - why the windows are locked and the front door’s always chained, even when Shouta’s home with you. He’s doing it out of love - to protect you.

But if that’s the case, then why is the window open now?

There’s a niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that you just can’t ignore. It’s making it difficult to focus, to settle down and lose yourself in the books he’s brought you, or the TV that’s playing quietly in the background - some TV sitcom from the 90’s.

(Your wings ruffle and twitch restlessly, flaring with every gust of wind that breezes through that torturously tiny gap, and in amongst the discomfort, you feel an ache long since buried kindle.)

You could just ask him - surely there has to be a reason he’s chosen the window over the air conditioning to abate the summer heat, but every time you open your mouth, the words get stuck in your throat.

You don’t know why it’s bothering you so much. Shouta wouldn’t deliberately put you at risk, so him opening the window (the one that’s always shut, always locked) shouldn’t raise any red flags. It shouldn’t make you feel uncomfortable. It shouldn’t even register as an issue!

But the unease in your gut won’t let up. You can’t stop your eyes from darting across the room to stare, like you’re frightened that if he catches you looking, he’ll get mad, or he’ll close the window and that lovely, fresh breeze that feels so nice tickling at your wings will be gone, and you won’t get it back.

Which doesn’t make sense, because it’s just a stupid window!

I-it’s just an open window.

Except you know that it’s not, and the revelation tears at every inch of your sanity.

He calls you his angel, a nod, you suspect, to your pretty white wings, but you’re nothing more than a caged little bird, trapped and locked away for his enjoyment.

It doesn��t bother you that the window is open because it’s not safe, it bothers you because after however many months stuck as his beloved little captive - you’ve managed to rationalise everything. To accept it.

You tricked yourself into believing that you loved him back.

And the open window shatters that fragile illusion, because if you really loved him, if you really, truly wanted to be here with Shouta, an open window on a hot summer's day would be little more than an afterthought, not a bitter reminder of all that’s been taken from you.

The vitriolic disgust and shame that floods your veins threatens to overwhelm you entirely, send you crashing to your knees as a sob tears through your throat.

You let this happen. You let him twist and mold you into his perfect angel, his adoring wife.

He stole you, drugged you, tied you to his bed and raped you, and managed to convince you that that was love… and you let him.

But you can’t buckle. You can’t afford to make a single sound, because just across the room, your captor is curled up on the love seat, napping in the afternoon warmth and you might not get another chance like this one.

Your eyes dart to the window once more, and you swallow down the lump in your throat.

There’ll be plenty of time to wallow in self pity and loathing later.

It’s only opened a few inches, but you know that it slides all the way across. You know because you tried to escape that way once before, in the first few days of your captivity.

There’s a reason all the windows in the apartment are locked, and it’s not to keep the Villains out.

This time you’re silent as you pad barefoot across the floor.

Your wings spring open, stretching wide and ruffling in preparation as your eyes flicker back over to Shouta.

Still fast asleep.

A tiny breath of relief leaves your lips. As quietly as you can manage your fingers find the edge of the window pane and slowly, you ease it further open - far enough that you can clamber up onto the thin wooden sill.

Perched on the balls of your feet, braced against either side of the window pane, your wings tucked tight against your body to fit through the narrow gap, your heart stutters in your chest.

And maybe it’s a testament to how broken you really are, because as you take a deep steadying breath, closing your eyes to prepare for the leap - you feel it - an insistent little tug in your gut, a flicker of guilt that trickles down your spine.

You hesitate, just for a fraction of a second.

But it’s enough.

A pair of iron arms encircle your waist as you're yanked back, kicking and screaming through the window and into a hard chest.

“Going somewhere, angel?”