#and then she's never mentioned again after
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Note
i can't stop thinking about sub!jinx with "it won't fit" "it hurts" PLAEASE 😭😭
cw ! subjinx. strap sex. pain kink.
jinx was always too cocky for her own good. she believed she was truly invincible— no matter what she did, she just couldn't seem to die anyway. that's bound to give someone some ego.
so she convinced herself, and you, that she could take that strap. it was hard to believe considering jinx was on the smaller side, but she would rather live up in topside than back out or give up.
but now, as you hold her hips up and continue inching the silicone into her despite the resistance her pussy was giving you, she was having some mixed feelings.
"can't—" she complains into the sheets, already feeling embarrassed. "it won't fit..."
you pause, tearing your eyes away from how she engulfed the toy. she was doing well, or as best as she could, but she was starting to second guess her choice.
you know jinx is a smart girl, she knows what she can take and what she can't. so, you leave it up to her. "you know how to make me stop," you murmur, sliding your hand up and down her back.
the safeword is building up on her tongue, something she had never said before with you. even if you never mentioned it again, it would always linger as a cloud of reminder that she couldn't take it above her head. but it's reassuring to know that it's always there— that even as a submissive, she had control of how far you went.
you pull her hips up a little more, gathering spit in your mouth and letting fall down on the silicone to hopefully make it easier for her, continuing to push into her.
jinx groans, grabbing onto the sheets and whimpering at the burn of the stretch, her foot kicking up in response. "ah— f.. uck..."
your hand creeps around her slim body and between her thighs, slowly rubbing her clit to help her take it. she whines and grinds on your fingers, successfully distracting her and slipping more of the toy into her.
she hisses quietly, her body jolting slightly. "pl— please... it hurts..."
her words and whimpers of pain are starting to make you feel guilty, but she still hasn't said the safe word. is it because of her inflated ego, or something else? you hesitate, your own breathing uneven and unsure. "jinx."
a whine falls from her mouth, her cunt clenching around the strap and swallowing a little more of it. "k-keep going... just.. keep going."
you exhale and do as she says, your gaze fixated on the colored toy disappearing onto her pale pussy, made a little easier by the stimulation on her clit.
the pain makes her curse and tremble a little, her body resisting instinctively but her mind flooding with desires of more— so much that she starts to get wetter, and soon enough you're bottomed out watching her squirm and pant.
you let her adjust, your hand trailing over her abdomen to feel the small bump under her skin, indicating just how deep you were inside her. she moans as you gently massage over it, her walls pulsing around the toy.
your hips draw back after a few more moments, just enough for her to feel the faux veins rub inside her before pushing back in. she lets out a strangled moan, completely at your mercy.
"is that it, huh? you wanna be stretched?"
jinx's eyes squeeze shut at your words, her thighs twitching which is a better answer that whatever excuse she was trying to come up with in her fuzzy mind.
code = cracked !!
⋆✴︎˚。⋆ taglist !
@fortluocha @ocharavitys @trizxyp @aelizreal @uhh-lana @amastarxoxo @pearlcigs @abbyspup @sunrxxyz @chaostudi
#fakevalentine.com#asks. 𝜗𝜚#jinx#jinx smut#arcane jinx smut#jinx arcane smut#arcane jinx#jinx arcane#jinx x reader#jinx league of legends#arcane#vi arcane#jinx x fem!reader
854 notes
·
View notes
Text
wreckage - charles leclerc (2/4)
୨ৎ : pairing : charles leclerc x wife!reader ୨ৎ : synopsis : after a devastating crash, you’re left to face the hardest decisions of your life as charles fights for his.
୨ৎ : genre : emotional fiction, very... very... emotional ୨ৎ : tws : car accident/injury, arguments/conflict, anxiety/panic, trauma, medical trauma. ୨ৎ : wc : 1448
part one | part two | part three | part four
They say you never know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have. But that doesn’t stop the crushing reality from setting in, from stealing the breath out of your lungs and leaving you with nothing but a pit in your stomach.
The adrenaline’s worn off now. The chaos of the crash—the sound of metal twisting, the screeching tires, the moment when everything went still—has settled into a steady, numbing dread. The pit in your stomach isn’t just from fear, it’s from the void where your thoughts should be. You don’t know what’s coming next. You’re not even sure if you’re prepared for it.
Charles isn’t here.
Charles isn’t in the room with you.
You glance at your phone again, eyes scanning for any update, any piece of news that tells you he’s okay. There’s nothing. Just the same cold silence. You dial his team again, and again, and again. But no one answers. His car was mangled—wrecked beyond recognition, but the worst part? The worst part is that no one can give you any real answers. No one can tell you if he’ll come back to you, or if that’s a question you should stop asking.
You feel like you're caught in a never-ending loop, the crash replaying over and over in your mind. Every time you hear his name on the news, every time you see another mention of the race, it stabs you like a fresh wound.
“Is there any word?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, though you’ve asked the question a hundred times already.
One of the nurses glances at you, but it’s not the answer you need. They’re all running on autopilot, no one daring to face the gravity of what’s happening.
A few hours later, you get the call. It’s brief, clinical, distant. They’re transferring him to the hospital for further tests, and you need to come now. You don’t even bother with a response. You just grab your coat, your purse, and run.
When you get to the hospital, you’re not prepared for what you’re about to see. You’ve spent all this time worrying about him, and now that you’re here, you don’t know how to be ready for the reality.
They rush you through sterile hallways, and the air feels thick, suffocating. The nurses are too quiet, too busy to offer reassurance. You don’t need their words. You need him.
The surgery’s been a blur. A series of technical terms, each more frightening than the last. Internal injuries. Organ failure. The adrenaline that was keeping him stable starts to wear off. Everything’s urgent, but no one tells you what’s going to happen. No one tells you that he might not make it through.
His mother arrives as you’re sitting in the waiting area, your fingers anxiously twisting the hem of your sleeve. She doesn’t need to say anything. You can see it in her eyes. She’s feeling the same crushing weight of uncertainty that you are. You stand, not knowing what to say, not knowing if there’s anything to say.
“How is he?” she asks, her voice cracking before the words are even out.
“They’re still working on him,” you answer, though you don’t know much. You don’t know anything. “They said it’s critical. I... I don’t know if he’s going to make it through.”
Her face falls, and she takes a deep breath. You want to say something, anything to reassure her, but you can’t. You don’t know what to believe anymore. The fear inside of you keeps growing, pressing against your ribs like a weight you can’t lift.
The door to the surgery room opens, and the doctor steps out. His face is pale, his expression tight.
“Is he...?” you ask, your voice trembling before the question even forms. You can’t bring yourself to finish it.
“He’s stable for now, but his condition is still critical,” the doctor explains. “We’re doing everything we can, but the next few hours are going to be crucial. The adrenaline kept his body from fully going into shock. It’s buying us time, but there’s a chance that time won’t be enough.”
You feel the ground slip away beneath you as his words sink in. “What does that mean? Is he going to be okay?”
“We’ll know more in a few hours, but we’re monitoring his organs. There’s significant internal damage.” He pauses, searching for something to say. Something comforting. “He’s a fighter. We’ll keep doing everything we can.”
You nod, though the words don’t mean anything to you. Fighters don’t always win. You know that. The only thing you can do is wait. But it feels like the waiting is the hardest part.
His mother looks at you, her eyes pleading, her lips trembling. “What do we do now?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.
You’re not prepared to make these decisions. You’re his wife, but you never thought you’d be here, making these life-or-death calls. This isn’t supposed to be your responsibility. You want to ask his mother what to do, but you can’t. She doesn’t have the answers. She’s just as lost as you are.
“I don’t know,” you whisper back, feeling the weight of it all settling on your shoulders.
She looks at you with a deep sadness in her eyes. “You’re his wife. It’s your decision now.”
Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You’re supposed to know. You’re supposed to know what he’d want, what the right choice is. But you don’t. How can you possibly know what to do when everything feels so out of control?
You want to run, want to disappear, but you can’t. Charles is still fighting. He’s still here, and that’s all you have. You can’t walk away from that.
As the hours drag on, you’re taken to see him. The room is sterile, cold. It’s not the hospital room you imagined. It’s nothing like that. It’s a place of quiet chaos, where everything hangs in the balance.
Charles is unconscious, tubes and wires running everywhere. His skin is pale, his face bruised. The doctors said he was conscious for a moment, but he’s out again, too weak to keep his eyes open.
You sit by his side, taking his hand gently, trying to feel his warmth through the coldness of the hospital room. You whisper his name, but there’s no response.
“He’s in there,” you tell yourself. You have to believe that. You can’t let go. Not yet.
Minutes pass, and still, nothing. His pulse steady on the monitor, but that’s the only sign that he’s still here. The rest of it is just a waiting game. You’ve been here before, waiting for someone you love to wake up, to come back to you, but it’s never been like this.
It’s never been this uncertain, this terrifying.
Charles is still here, but you know that might not be the case for long. The waiting is unbearable. Every beep of the heart monitor is both a reminder that he’s still alive and a warning that it could change at any moment.
As the nurse enters to check on him, you hold his hand tighter, unwilling to let go, unwilling to believe that this could be it.
“How long?” you ask her, barely able to look at the machines, not sure you want to know.
“It’s hard to say,” she replies softly. “He’s stable, but his condition is still critical. If we don’t see improvement soon, we might need to make... more decisions.”
That word. Decisions. What decisions? You’re left with nothing but the silence, the uncertainty. The questions. The waiting.
As the hours stretch on, and the doctor makes his rounds again, you finally hear the words you’ve been dreading. “There’s no improvement. We might need to consider...” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but you hear what he means. The fear inside you rises, a growing lump in your throat. The worst-case scenario is beginning to feel more real with each passing second.
Everything is slipping away, and you don’t know how to hold on.
You sit in the chair, staring at Charles, your mind racing with fear and doubt. You want to hope, you want to pray, but it feels like hope is a fragile thing, easily crushed by the weight of reality. The fight’s not over yet, but you’re starting to wonder if it ever will be.
“I’m here,” you whisper again, to him, to yourself. “I’m not going anywhere.”
But somewhere deep inside, you know. You know that the decision you’re dreading might be just around the corner, and there’s nothing you can do to stop it.
taglist: @emryb , @htpssgavi , @aleatorio1234 , comment to be added
© 2024 jungwnies | All rights reserved. Do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc imagines#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fanfiction#charles leclerc cute#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x yn#charles leclerc x female reader#f1 smut#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula 1#f1 instagram au#fanfiction#formula one#𐐪♡︎₊˚ ― jungwnies
323 notes
·
View notes
Text
Such A Mystery - Part 2
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Colette Leclerc (Original Character)
Summary:
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
Colette Leclerc really regrets posting that particular Taylor Swift Lyric to her private Instagram account, because it made George Russell go insane.
The rest of the world has absolutely no idea that the Dutch Lion and Charles Leclerc’s twin sister have been a couple for 15 years and are expecting a baby.
Warnings:
Pregnancy, Mention of multiple miscarriages, Pregnancy complications, George Russell Bashing (he's probably really nice in real life but in this, he's the bad guy, sorry)
Author Notes: Huge thanks to @llirawolf for holding my hand through this. Currently thinking this will have like 5-7 parts?
Max Verstappen fell in love at the ripe old age of 12 and never looked back.
He had fallen like a ton of bricks for a dark-haired girl with doe eyes and the prettiest of smiles…and who also happened to be the twin sister of his biggest rival.
Colette Leclerc had been the first girl he had ever looked twice at and even 15 years later, that had never changed. Max was quite sure that it never would change either. It was her or nobody for him.
Though he was very much aware that nobody had actually taken their relationship seriously for the first 5 years. Just a childhood crush turned into a teenage romance... But then slowly, their families had realised that it wasn't "just" anything.
He had moved to Monaco a day after his 18th birthday for her. To be as close to her as he possibly could. They had moved in together later that year.
They had kept it quiet over the years... Family and friends knew but Max and Colette had never made it obvious enough for the press to pick up on.
It had been Colette's request, not his.
Max would have liked to scream it from the rooftops. Would have liked everybody to know that Colette was his girlfriend, that he was the one that got to go home to her…that he was the one she loved. That they were blissfully happy together and had been for 15 years at this point.
That she was carrying their child.
Their baby.
It was a fucking miracle, that's what it was.
It had taken them a good six months to get pregnant the first time...nearly 2 years ago…between his race schedule and the insanity of the racing season...and then she had miscarried days after that first positive pregnancy test.
It has been heartbreaking.
Of course, it had been...but they had thought that...maybe it was just a one-off…
The doctors hadn't been able to find anything wrong with her after all...
The second pregnancy resulted in another miscarriage less than a year later.
Another case of…Well, there is nothing wrong as far as we can tell.
And then ..the third pregnancy...both Max and Colette had been a complete mess about it.
Expecting the worst to happen at any minute. They had waited for the other shoe to drop. He had waited for there to be bleeding...for the baby not to make it...but then they had their first ultrasound and there had been a heartbeat.
Finally, after two devastating miscarriages, they had a positive ultrasound. A healthy heartbeat and a thriving baby growing in Colette’s belly.
It was a fucking miracle.
Even when the fact that Colette was due in January meant that he was gone for much of her pregnancy. Max hated being away from her during such a vulnerable and exciting time.
He had tried though. Max had made sure to come home to Monaco as often as he could during the season, even if it was just for a quick visit, even when it was just for 24 hours at a time.
He was glued to his phone constantly, as soon as he had a free minute. The truly important people all knew about the baby and even GP let him go with a roll of his eyes when Max was once again absentmindedly checking his phone for another message from Colette.
At least, in a few days, he could be there for her. He would be there in January, and he wouldn’t miss the last month of pregnancy or the first precious few weeks with their baby…
There was a part of him that believed the baby would be a girl that would look just like Colette. Colette thought it was a boy. They had decided to be surprised. But regardless if it was a boy or a girl, Max just wanted the baby to be safe and healthy.
Max always called and video-chatted with Colette every evening. He was like an overly attached mother hen, constantly asking her how she felt, if she needed anything, and checking on the baby's progress.
So when her name was mentioned in conversation by two of his mechanics...he immediately perked up.
They were in Abu Dhabi for the last race of the season... and after the drama that had been the Qatar GP, that particular penalty and George Russell…Max was, quite frankly, done with the season.
He just wanted to get home to Colette and their baby.
"I just really want to know what Colette Leclerc posted on Instagram," one of them said with a snort. "Whatever it was, it must have really gotten under Russell's skin."
What?
Colette's Instagram was set to private. She used it to comment under every single one of her brothers' posts and that pretty much was it. She did post pictures sometimes, to the less than 200 followers she actually had.
Why would a random mechanic even know about...
"Too bad it's set to private," the other responded with a sigh. "I would love to slide in her dms…she’s a beauty…"
He held back a snort at that. It was true. Max wholeheartedly agreed that Colette was beautiful. Simply lovely. There was no one else who could compare to her in his eyes.
But there was also the fact that Colette had the habit of not even realising if a guy was flirting with her at all. Quite frankly, he wasn’t much better…it had always just been each other for both of them.
But all of that didn’t answer the other question he had. So he whipped out his phone again and then did what he really shouldn't do...namely check out the fan accounts.
He got his answer then.
Gemma, one of the press officers, approached him with a grim expression, just at that moment. "Max," she said urgently, "There's something you need to know."
Max's anger was building as he spoke. "I already saw," he gritted out, his voice barely restrained. "George decided to be an ass.”
Granted, "Karma is the guy in the car, coming straight home to me" probably had been rather pointed...because Max had indeed gotten Pole Position back in the first corner... So it had been Karma in a way.
Still, for George to use Colette against Max...Colette, who kept quiet and out of the spotlight...who abhorred paparazzi...
Max was seething. George had crossed a line by bringing Colette into their rivalry. She was an innocent party in all of this, someone who always shied away from the spotlight.
Max clenched his fists in anger, his jaw tightened as he forced himself to remain composed. He knew that lashing out at George would only give him what he wanted, but he couldn't help feeling protective of Colette.
Especially right now. The stress wasn't good for her and it wasn't good for the baby...He took a deep breath to calm himself down. He needed to keep his temper in check, even if it was difficult.
He had to think about Colette and the baby. The last thing he wanted was to add more stress to her life.
Gemma's words were quiet, but they hit like a ton of bricks. "I would suggest you stay low right now," she advised. "I know it's completely out of line, but if you confront him about it, he could end up telling the press about you two. And that's not something you want..."
He knew how cruel the media could be, how they would tear apart every aspect of their relationship. Colette avoided the spotlight for a reason and he had promised her that he would never drag her into it either if it was at all possible. But the idea of George using her as a pawn in his games with Max...it was infuriating.
#max verstappen fanfiction#formula 1#max verstappen#max verstappen smau#max verstappen fic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfiction#max verstappen fluff#mv1 fanfiction#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen fake instagram#f1 smau#max verstappen social media au#max verstappen x reader#mv1 x reader#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#mv1 fic#max verstappen x you#f1 grid x reader#f1 grid fanfiction
339 notes
·
View notes
Text
can you see right through me?
azriel x mate!reader
summary: after finding out you're mated to the Spymaster of the Night Court, you can't help but feel self-conscious, thanks to the jealous remarks made by patrons at your bookstore.
warnings: mentions of self-hatred and self-sabotage, angst!!!, body image issues, depression, mentions of death, azriel is an idiot but he figures it out ok, mentions of sex & the mating frenzy
word count: 9.5k (oops...)
Ever since finding out that you’re mated to none other than the High Lord’s Shadowsinger two months ago, everything in your life has flipped upside down.
You’re not just some ordinary bookstore owner anymore, you’re now part of the Night Court’s Inner Circle by default. Your status as a citizen in Velaris has completely changed, but you refused to quit working just because of your mate, much to his disappointment. He’d rather you just stay with him in the House of Wind, filling your days reading your favorite books instead of selling them, but you insisted. You wanted to get to know the male better before immediately accepting the bond, moving in and forgetting about your old life, especially after hearing all the things people say about you and your new mating bond when they’re in or around your shop.
You have to deal with sidelong glances and whispers from almost everyone who comes into your tiny shop next to the Sidra, have to hear the spiteful unmated females who might kill to be in your position.
“How do you think she got him? Do you think she slipped one of those banned love tonics into a drink or something?”
“He could be mated to anyone, and the Cauldron picked her of all people?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if he already rejected the bond, I don’t ever see them together.”
“She’s definitely just using him for his money and power, she had to have manipulated him somehow.”
“I thought he was with the Morrigan, she’s much more fitting for a male like him, much prettier.”
Every snide remark hits you like a knife to the heart, but still, you keep your composure throughout every single day. It isn’t ever until you’re in the safety of your own apartment above the bookstore that you allow yourself to mull over the comments, to let yourself fall back into old self-loathing habits.
You quickly learn how to contain your sadness to your end of the bond, blocking Azriel from seeing the pain that you endure on a nightly basis. You’re convinced he would be so embarrassed to see you cry yourself to sleep, to see you poke and prod at your skin in front of the mirror, to see you skip over meals in order to appease that incessant hatred filling your mind, to see you become filled with so much disgust in yourself when you replay the remarks over and over and over again.
The comments never seem to die down as weeks pass, and you slowly convince yourself that they’re all right, that Azriel is going to reject the bond because you don’t deserve him. You don’t see him often anyways, as you’re both preoccupied with your jobs throughout the week, which doesn’t help the fact that you’re convinced that he doesn’t want to be around you.
You’re stuck between trying to change yourself to fit what you think the Illyrian would like in a mate and rejecting the bond before he gets the chance to break your heart. You eventually decide it’s worth a shot to change yourself into the ideal, beautiful mate that you think he wants you to be before being stung with the inevitable heartbreak that comes with rejecting a bond.
Sundays used to be your favorite day of the week because you get to close shop at mid-day and spend the rest of the day reading at the foot of the Sidra or walking around to the nearby shops.
For the last few Sundays, you didn’t feel like doing anything aside from wallowing in self-pity in your bed. You never let yourself do just that, though.
You’d taken it upon yourself to change your lifestyle after thinking long and hard about the women that he’s surrounded by in the Inner Circle. All of them are tall and toned and so strong, more in shape than you’ve ever been in your life. All of them have natural beauty and grace that you could only wish to have.
Every Sunday for the last month, you’d spent the afternoon running or doing some kind of training in order to “fix yourself”, to look an inkling more similar to those beautiful high fae of the Inner Circle. This Sunday was no different.
You closed the bookstore around noon and headed up to your apartment, changing into training clothes before deciding to go for a long run after a day of extremely ruthless comments. You slip out the back door of the bookstore to begin your run, but are halted almost immediately when you walk straight into a wall of leather and warm skin, shadows skittering around your shoulders as you take a step back.
Azriel peers down at you as you frown at him, concern lacing his features when he takes you in. His heart races as you stand in front of him, excited to finally see you after not seeing you for over a week. He swears you look different every time he’s seen you recently, your frame beginning to thin out in ways that concern him, but he knows better than to bring that up.
“S–Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” you say meekly, tugging at the sleeves of your jacket while avoiding direct eye contact with the male.
“It’s quite alright,” he says gently, watching you closely as his eagerness extends down the bond to you. “Where are you going?”
“Was just gonna go on a run,” you reply with a shrug, feigning nonchalance as the self-doubting thoughts swirl around in your mind even more in his presence. “Did–did you need something?”
“Am I not allowed to visit my mate whenever I please?” he teases, which makes your eyes widen in fear that he’s actually upset.
“I’m sorry, I–I didn’t mean it like that!” you stammer, shaking your head at him apologetically as you take a step back, backing into the door behind you.
“Hey, no it’s alright. I was only joking.” Azriel says quickly, one of his hands coming up to caress one of your arms. “I didn’t mean to take you by surprise, I’m sorry. I should’ve made sure it was okay that I stopped by.”
You shake your head again, blinking before looking up at him with a frown. He wants more than anything to ask you what’s bothering you, but can see that you’re obviously already distraught about whatever it is, and doesn’t want to pry. Since he’s known you, you’ve always been closed off, like him, about your emotions. So, he opts to change the subject instead.
“I did have a real reason for coming over here though,” he suggests and you nod slowly, waiting for him to continue. “Rhysand requests your presence at dinner tonight.”
“T–The High Lord?” you question, and Azriel nods. “W–Why is he requesting my presence at dinner?”
“Well, we have family dinner once a week, and he claims it’s not a complete family affair if my mate isn’t present.” he explains, the ghost of a smile on his lips, “I tried to tell him to fuck off, because I know you’re typically busy on Sunday nights, but he insists that you come this week, at least this once.”
There’s a pleading look in your mate’s eyes that makes you nearly melt at his feet, and you know you can’t say no to him at that moment.
“I–I, yeah, I can come tonight.” you say finally, giving him a weak smile as he grins down at you triumphantly.
“Perfect,” he retorts, his shadows dancing around you with equal excitement, “I’ll meet you here around five? It’s just over at the River House.”
You nod quickly, forcing a smile onto your face as he leans in to press a kiss to your cheek before bidding you goodbye. The small gesture makes your heart flutter, but you can’t help but wonder how forced it is, can’t help but wonder if inviting you to dinner is a ploy to bring you in and publicly reject your bond.
There’s no way in hell you’re going for a run now.
You spend the next five hours pacing around, thinking about what you’re going to wear if you want to even come close to looking as good as the other females that will be there. The clothes in your closet are few and far between, but you finally decide on your nicest dress, one that's made of a gauzy navy fabric, adorned with silver embroidered stars littered over the bodice. It’s more revealing than most clothes you wear, but it’s the closest thing you have to the clothes that the Inner Circle wear. It takes you almost an hour to feel presentable in terms of makeup and hair, and by the time you’re done, you hear a knock on the back door of the store.
You throw your shoes on quickly before making your way down the stairs, mentally preparing yourself for the evening as you do.
Azriel’s eyes go wide when you open the door, something like amazement and confusion mixed in his gaze as he stares you down.
“I–I’ve never seen you wear anything like this, it’s beautiful,” he starts, unable to tear his gaze from the flowy dress, “You’re beautiful.”
Your chest aches at his compliment as your mind tries to convince you that he’s lying, but you smile up at him weakly nonetheless. He extends his arm for you to take, ready to lead you to the River House across the Sidra.
The two of you are greeted by more people than you’d expect when you enter the High Lord and Lady’s home, but you recognize them all before they get a chance to introduce themselves. You’ve only met Cassian and Nesta prior to this dinner, so the first hour was spent essentially introducing yourself to each of them one-by-one. Azriel stays by your side through each introduction, hand on the small of your back as his shadows swirl around your hands comfortingly. He can tell that something in you has changed since he met you a few months back, that the light and excitement in your eyes when you first found out he was your mate has since dissipated. There’s an unmistakable lump in his throat as he thinks too much into it, wondering if you’re having second thoughts about him.
Dinner comes and goes as smoothly as you hoped it would. The nauseous feeling roiling in your gut keeps you from eating much, only pushing the food around on the plate while taking miniscule bites to fight off any comments that any of them might have about your hesitancy. You’re only roped into conversations every once in a while, so you’re able to sit back and explore the dynamic between the group a little more without much involvement. Azriel mainly stays silent, only making a few remarks here and there.
With a snap of the High Lord’s fingers, dessert appears in front of everyone along with more wine in each of your glasses.
“I propose a toast,” Rhysand suggests after getting everyone’s attention, eyes landing on you finally, “to Y/N, for bringing our Shadowsinger so much happiness.”
A deep blush spreads across your cheeks as you force a smile, raising your glass as the others do too. ‘Cheers’ is mumbled by everyone before they all take a drink, and Azriel reaches over to squeeze your hand that’s sitting on the edge of the table. You turn to look at him, noting an unfamiliar look in his eyes that you nearly mistake for love, before your thoughts are interrupted by a loud laugh from Amren across the table.
“I, for one, am so grateful that Y/N finally came along after all this time.” she says with a sly grin, “because I think if she wouldn’t have, then the Spymaster would’ve continued to pine after Mor for the rest of eternity.”
There’s a collectively uncomfortable murmur from everyone at her words, and Nesta jabs her in the side with a warning glare as she notices the smile on your face falter for a split second. You could feel all color leave your face as your heart plummets to your stomach, the female’s words confirming all of your doubts about your current situation. Azriel shifts his eyes to you then, but you bring back the same composed mask to your face, the same one you’ve held for the last three months any time someone made snide remarks at you, while you try to avoid his burning gaze. You give the female a withering smile, ignoring the worried stare from the male at your side as you do.
“Truly, I’m grateful the Cauldron deemed me worthy of being a welcome distraction to such a male like him,” you say in response with a laugh, hoping your voice comes out in a joking tone as you try to mask the disappointment in your wavering voice.
The comment is enough to earn a few chuckles from around the table, pushing away any awkwardness that stemmed from Amren’s comment. You’re able to skate through the rest of the evening without any snide remarks from the Inner Circle, glad that you’re one step closer to getting the hell out of this house as the group finally starts to stand from the table.
Azriel follows closely behind you as you bid everyone goodbye, exhaustion raking over your bones as you give one final wave to the High Lord and Lady before turning toward your mate.
There’s a look of worry shining in his eyes when you finally peer up at him, shadows skittering anxiously around your wrists in the meantime.
“Ready to go home?” he questions, forcing a smile onto his face as he guides you towards the front door when you nod.
“You don’t have to walk me home, Azriel.” you start once you’re out of earshot of everyone else, stopping in your tracks to look at him again. The look on your face is almost unreadable, but his shadows whisper to him about your pain and embarrassment as the two of you stand on the outside of the front door to the River House. “I’m truly fine to go by myself, you don’t–don’t have to bother to go out of your way for me.”
His brow furrows and a frown pulls his lips down at your words, finally seeing the slightest glimmer of sadness and disappointment shining in your eyes as you speak. He only shakes his head, taking a step towards you before he speaks.
“I–You’re not a bother to me.” he says, unsure of what else to say to you, “If you’re upset about what Amren said, please know that she always says bullshit like that when she’s drunk, I have not thought about Mor in that way for centuries–”
“Truly, Azriel, it’s quite alright.” you interject with a pained smile. “You didn’t ask to be mated to me, I understand if you’re preoccupied with other love interests or if you just don’t want to be with me.”
The Illyrian opens his mouth to speak, but is downright dumbfounded by your words to the point where he simply closes his mouth again. He very obviously had been reading the situation wrong this whole time, as he thought that giving you space was the right thing to do in order to let you process the very new bond from your end. He realizes then that you needed reassurance and not space, but it could very well be too late now. Before he can protest, you’re taking a step closer to him in order to give him a chaste kiss on the cheek before stepping away.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, “I get it, I really do. And–And if you need to reject the bond and never want to see me again after tonight, I’ll understand.”
Oh, fuck. You think he wants to reject the bond.
Hazel eyes meet yours then, and you swear you see a twinkle of regret and hurt shining somewhere between the bronzy flecks, but it’s almost undetectable. Such a miniscule expression that you tell yourself that you imagined it, that his face never changed and that he truly does not care about what you’re saying to him now.
He shakes his head as you take another step away from him, as you turn on your toes to walk away from the townhouse, away from him. His chest feels like it’s going to cave in then, as the bond to his heart hums with a sadness he’s never felt before. He can feel the bond quivering in pain between your souls, threatening to wither away if either of you even thinks about truly rejecting the bond.
But you don’t feel it because you’ve expertly blocked the bond out for the last month, because you truly believe that there’s no way Azriel could ever truly want you, because you’re convinced that he wants this.
There’s no hesitation in your step when you turn your back to the male, walking in swift strides towards the bridge to cross the Sidra to reach your little apartment on top of the bookstore. You refuse to let him see how much it kills you to freely offer up a rejected bond, you can’t let him see how you’re crumbling with each step you take. So you stay steady in your gait, hiding your shaking hands in front of you as you blink back the tears that threaten to spill.
If you would’ve looked back in that moment, you would’ve seen the tears that spilled down the shadowsinger’s cheeks. If you wouldn’t have blocked out the bond in that moment, you would’ve felt the way you almost tore his heart out of his chest as you walked into the darkness.
Azriel didn’t follow after you though, he didn’t want to make things worse than they already were. He’d fucked up so badly by not showing you how much the bond truly meant to him, by simply assuming that you needed space.
So, he simply sent a shadow to make sure you got home safely and sat down on the front step of the townhouse.
He sat on that step for almost two hours, staring at the stars and cursing himself for all of the mistakes he’d made.
You only get one mate in your eternal life, and he really fucked it up this badly already?
Memories of the first few times the two of you had met replayed in his mind as he sat there, remembering how your eyes glimmered with the most love he’d ever been shown in his life.
You were shy and quiet, something he wasn’t used to from being around the Inner Circle for so long. After living with the loud, boisterous crown for centuries, he was used to emotions being expressed outright. So, he’d mistaken your meek behavior for disinterest, mistaken your nervousness for distaste. He thought you’d needed space, needed time to get used to his brooding and intolerable presence, needed room to process the sudden bond. But, fuck, was he wrong.
Everything becomes clearer to the male as as it nears midnight. The ache in his chest becomes more and more painful with each passing minute now, and he realizes that he has to get you back, he has to fight to make you understand how much you mean to him.
_______________________________________
Nesta Archeron started her Sunday much earlier than usual this week, thanks to her mate’s early morning departure. Cassian woke her by rustling around their shared bedroom before dawn, seemingly flustered as he tried to gather his leathers and put them on in the dark.
“You’re not very good at being quiet, General.” she remarks tiredly, sitting up in the bed to flick one of the bedside faelights on.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, shooting her a sympathetic smile as he nearly trips over the leathers he tries to step into. “Rhys said there’s an emergency in Windhaven, Az and I are leaving soon.”
She only hums in response, watching him finish getting dressed in comfortable silence. Cassian stands over her at the edge of the bed after tugging on his boots, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek before heading out for the day.
Nesta knows then that she won’t be able to fall back asleep, so she decides to reach for her latest read on her nightstand. Once she grabs the book, she realizes that she’d finished the night before and is completely out of books to read. She knows then that she’ll have to make her way into town, deciding to take a trip to your bookstore at the base of the Sidra for the first time.
She took her time getting ready, slipping into a gray dress and her usual boots before heading downstairs to eat breakfast. It was a little after seven in the morning when she made her way towards your bookstore, basking in the chilly morning air as she walked along the river.
It took her all of thirty minutes to reach the store, where she was met with a locked door and a dark front window. It was well past opening time for the store and there were no other signs on the door to suggest otherwise, but your store was definitely closed.
“I’m not surprised,” Nesta hears a female say from behind her, giggling to her friend as they pass the storefront, “I’m sure she’s been rotting away upstairs because the Shadowsinger broke their bond or something like that. The store’s been closed all week. A lesser fae store owner like her did not deserve a male as beautiful as him.”
Nesta turns to see the culprits of the spiteful comments and laughs, and the two High Fae females’ eyes widen upon her whipping her head towards them.
Their smirks fall immediately, the one who was speaking starts to open her mouth but Nesta only holds up a hand to shut her up.
“I don’t know either of you females–and I’m very glad I don’t–” the sharp-eyed female spat out, “but I do know the Shadowsinger and his mate. And all I have to say is that if I hear either of you coming around here to harass her or if I hear of you spewing more lies about her relationship, I will be sure to mention it to the High Lord and Shadowsinger. I’m sure neither of them would be very happy to hear the rumors flying around.”
The females nod feverishly as Nesta stares them down with that silver fire flickering lowly in her eyes, both mumbling apologies under their breaths as they scurry away.
Nesta lets out a huff, turning on her heels to make her way towards the other bookstore across town, where she only finds two new books for herself instead of the countless romance novels she knew she would’ve found at your carefully curated store. The remarks from the two females about you aren’t lost on her as she makes her way through the city, their spiteful words and evil giggles running through her mind as she replays the scenario.
Instead of trekking all the way back to the House of Wind after gathering her books, she makes her way to the River House in order to spend the day with her favorite person–Nyx.
The day goes by quickly between reading and rolling around with the toddler and his mother, and it’s evening before she or Feyre even realize it. Three Illyrian warriors clad in leathers make their way into the drawing room where the two females lounge on the couch, looking exhausted from a day of crisis management at the camps.
“Long day?” Nesta says as she raises her eyebrow at the three males, stroking Nyx’s hair as he sleeps silently on her chest.
Her mate only grunts in agreement, coming over to press a kiss to the crown of her head in greeting. The High Lord is greeted by Feyre with a loving stroke of his cheek, smiling up at him sympathetically. Azriel only stands at the threshold, looking more brooding and closed off than usual.
“Well, good news is you can tell us all about it at dinner.” Feyre suggests, trying to lighten the sour mood of the three males as she reaches for Rhys’ hand to intertwine into her own. “Nuala and Cerridwen just finished making some delicious stew and I don’t know about you all, but I’m starving.”
Dinner seems to lighten the mood quite a bit for the group, quiet conversation carrying through the dining room after Cassian and Rhysand get their complaints out for the day. Azriel sits on the other side of Feyre, silent for the majority of the meal, only engaging when Cassian involves him.
A burning question gnaws at Nesta as she takes in the sad, hazel-eyed male, she can almost feel the pain radiating off of him from across the table as he stares intently down at the barely touched food in front of him. It’s hard to read the male, so she’s not entirely sure what the sadness is about, but she has to know eventually.
“How was your day, Nes?” her thoughts are interrupted by Cassian’s words and his elbow nudging hers lightly.
“Great, for the most part. Got to spend it with my favorite nephew,” she jokes, grinning briefly over at the babbling toddler being fed by his mother. “But I did find something very interesting on my trip to get some new books this morning.”
She notes how Azriel’s eyes flicker towards her then, intrigued by the mention of going to a bookstore.
“Oh, did you go to Y/N’s store? I’ve been meaning to ask if you wanted to take a trip over there to get some new books.” Feyre asks while forking some food for her son.
“Well, that was the original plan.” Nesta retorts, lips pulling into a half-frown before turning towards the shadowsinger, “Have you heard from your mate lately, Azriel?”
Azriel drops the spoon he was holding into the bowl of stew with a loud clatter, obviously taken aback by the question directed towards him. The room is silent as he finally looks up, seeing four expectant pairs of eyes staring back at him, Nesta’s gaze the harshest out of all of them.
“No, I haven’t heard from her since Saturday.” he says, willing his voice to be strong as he feels as though he’s going to throw up.
“Hm, interesting.” Nesta hums, eyes sharpening even more, if that’s even possible, “I tried to stop by the store because I finished my last novel last night, but the door was locked and the lights were all off. Then I ran into the most interesting pair of females who I overheard say that the store had been closed all week.”
“All week?” Feyre questions, a frown on her face now too.
“You haven’t heard from your mate for a week and you haven’t thought to try to contact her?” Rhys interjects, disappointment laced in his tone as he stares down Azriel from across the table, his honed gaze rivaling Nesta’s.
“She–She hasn’t left her apartment since last Saturday.” Azriel grits out, stopping anyone else from their questioning. “She thinks I want to reject her, to reject the bond. And I’m starting to think I should.”
Everyone goes silent then, even Nyx’s babbling is hushed as a thick air of tension fills the large dining room. Azriel’s hands are shaking as he stares at his untouched glass of wine, shadows slashing around his wings angrily now.
“Why do you think that?” Nesta’s the only one brave enough to question him, unafraid of facing the upset male. “What makes you think you should reject the bond?”
“I fucked up. I thought she needed space, thought she was overwhelmed by me, by all of this, by being part of the Inner Circle by default.” he says, a pained expression on his face as he finally looks up to Nesta. “I hurt her and I didn’t even realize it. She needed me and I wasn’t there for her. I can’t figure out how to make it better, I–I don’t know how to take away her pain. I’ve been her mate for less than six months and I’ve already lost her trust in me. I don’t deserve such a sweet creature like her.”
“Do you want to reject the bond?” Nesta persists, and he knows she means to ask if he loves you or not.
“I don’t. But–”
“There’s no but, Azriel.” Cassian interrupts firmly, “You either want to, or you don’t. And you don’t want to reject it, I know you don’t. You’ve never been happier than you were when you realized you had a mate and that it was her. You need to get your head out of your ass, stop pitying yourself and start showing her that you want to be with her. If not, you’re going to kill the poor female. You’re gonna fucking kill her from a broken heart.”
_______________________________________
In all honesty, you don’t know what day it is anymore. You’ve sat in the dark in your apartment above the bookstore all alone for Gods know how long, letting yourself wallow in the sorrow that fills your chest every time you breathe.
You can’t remember the last time you ate, the last time you did anything aside from stare at the wall next to your bed, save for the times that you’ve gone to the bathroom. It truly feels like you’re dying, like you’re withering away into nothing, and you might as well be. You don’t know what day it is, but you do know that Azriel hasn’t tried to contact you since you left the River House on Saturday, you do know that he wants nothing to do with you.
You hadn’t realized how much you had grown to rely on the male’s visits and nervous glances, how much they’d excited you, until they were no more.
The golden thread in your soul quivers every time you think about him, but you don’t let yourself think about missing him for too long. You always shut down before it gets too bad, and push yourself back into the thoughts of self-hatred, the thoughts of how you wish you’d just cease to exist already. There wasn’t anyone around anymore to check on you, anyone to make sure you made it through this bout of depression like there used to be. Your sister and mother have been gone for years, and now your mate, the one who gave you a sliver of hope for the shortest time, is gone too.
When the first knock falls on the door to your apartment, you barely hear it over the incessant ringing in your ears. You choose to ignore it, thinking whoever it is will go away eventually if they stand out in the late evening cold for long enough.
But they don’t.
They knock, and knock, and knock, and knock for what feels like thirty minutes, each knock getting louder and more insistent than the last.
You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to fall back asleep to ignore the sound, but it doesn’t work. After what feels like hours, but is probably only a few minutes, the knocking finally stops.
What you don’t hear–or see–in that moment is the shadows that slip under the door at the bottom of the stairs, quietly unlocking it for their master to slip inside, and the other shadows ahead of their master that report back to him about your state before he makes his way up the stairs.
Moments later, you hear the creak of the stairs and your heart sinks, but you feel too weak to move, too weak to save yourself, and for a moment, you thank the Cauldron that some intruder has finally come to put you out of your misery in one way or another.
You don’t expect the weak, broken voice of a male at the top of the stairs as you’re laying with your back towards the threshold, the sadness in an all too familiar voice when you hear, “Gods, Y/N. I am so sorry.”
It takes every ounce of strength out of Azriel to walk over to the bed after taking in the sight of your studio apartment in complete disarray. The place is unkempt and needs plenty of repairs just from what he can see with a quick scan, but that’s not what hurts his heart the most in the moment. You facing the blank wall, staring mindlessly ahead as you’re curled up in a ball at the edge of your bed is what breaks him. He finally makes his way over to the wall that you’re facing, but you don’t look up at him, unable to take the energy to complete the small gesture.
Azriel falls to his knees in front of you, reaching a hand out to stroke your hair. He takes you in fully then–your unkempt hair, chapped lips, red cheeks and heavy eyes–you truly were dying from a broken heart.
“Y/N,” he says gently, trying to keep his voice as strong as possible while choking back tears. You take a long moment to finally look up at him, a look of confusion and then delusion crossing over your face as you do–you had to be dreaming him, right?
“I’m–I’m so fucking sorry, love. Gods, how long have you been laying here?” he says, and you only blink up at him because you’re not even sure of the answer, numb to it all at this point. “Are–Do you want me to help you? Can I help you somehow, please? I–I wanna fix this, I wanna make you better.”
A strange noise leaves your throat then as your brow furrows at his words, your delusions during depressive episodes have never said anything like this to you before, and that’s when it all feels too real. You slowly realize that this is very much the real Azriel kneeling in front of you with tears shimmering in his eyes, clasping your very clammy hand between his very warm ones. Tears brim in your own eyes now, the weight of the entire situation hitting you like a ton of bricks. You’d ruined yourself before he’d even broken the bond, so now you’ve hurt him by somehow signaling to him of your suffering.
“‘M sorry, A–Azriel,” you croak out, the first words to have left your lips in days.
“S–You’re sorry?” he says, voice more stern than before, shaking his head persistently, “No–No, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about, love.” He squeezes your icy hand then, giving you a weak, bitter smile, “I’m sorry for not coming sooner, okay? I’m so sorry and I’ll apologize until the day I die for not being here for you when you needed me. I–I wanna help you now, if you’ll let me. Will you let me help you? Can I take you home with me to get you some help?”
Despite the confusion and sadness swirling around in your deprived brain, you nod at the male, who jumps up almost immediately after you nod. He slowly peels the covers off your frail form, heart breaking at the sight of you. He pushes the ache in his chest down to be strong for you then, gently scooping you up into his arms. The two of you are engulfed in shadows seconds later as Azriel shadow-walks to the House of Wind as quickly as he can.
You don’t remember much from your first moments at the House of Wind, other than the fact that there were a lot of people around you in a very short amount of time. You recognized some of them, the High Lord and Lady, along with Cassian and Nesta, but other faces were less familiar. One woman came into the room you laid in, tugging a warm blanket over your body before using what you could only assume was healing power on you. She’d mumbled something to Azriel on her way out before patting him on the shoulder, and that was the last thing you’d remembered before finally falling into a peaceful sleep for the first time in a week.
Sunlight streaming in through the curtains woke you later on, you weren’t entirely sure how long you’d been out for but you’re sure it had been for more than a few hours at this point. You groaned lightly as you stretched your weak legs, eyes fluttering open to take in your surroundings fully for the first time. The room smelled of mahogany and amber, a familiar and inviting scent you knew too well to not understand whose room you were in.
Though alone at the moment, you know he’s not far, as his shadows skitter excitedly around you as you attempt to sit up in the bed.
The door opens not even two minutes later, the shadowsinger standing in the doorway with a tray of what looked to be steaming food, a glass of water, and some medications. He nearly drops the tray when he sees you sitting up in the middle of his bed, not expecting you to already be awake and so alert. Without a word, he strides over to the large bed, placing the tray on the bedside table before sitting in the chair he’d positioned on the side where you laid.
“Hi,” he says with a sharp inhale, giving you a weak smile as he searches your eyes for any emotion he can find.
“H–How long was I out for?” you ask meekly, the full weight of your actions crashing down on you all at once. “How long have I overstayed?”
“What?” he questions, a frown pulling his lips down as his heart sinks. You truly think you’re burdening this male, when all he wants is for you to be safe and to feel loved. “You haven’t overstayed, I brought you here to heal, I wanted you to come here to get better.”
You shake your head then, blinking harshly at him as you refuse to believe what he’s telling you. “N–No, you only came to find me because I’m–I’m stupid and didn’t give you the opportunity to reject the bond before I mourned what we never had.” you insist, looking at him with wide eyes. “I’m sorry you had to deal with all of this, please–please, you can reject it now, you don’t have to pretend anymore.”
The level of self destruction going on in your mind was on another level that Azriel couldn’t deign to comprehend in the moment, but he knew it wasn’t just by your own doing. He can see the internal turmoil you’re going through, can feel your peril down the bond that he now realizes you’ve been shrouding in your own shadows for months, can feel the way you’re tearing yourself apart from the inside out. He reaches for you then, hands coming up to cup your cheeks gently as his shadows rub soothing circles along your back to calm you down, though you continue to babble apologetically about how he should hate you and how you’re the one who should be apologizing for everything.
“Y/N, hey, hey, hey. Look at me.” he coos gently, thumbs stroking your cheekbones softly to bring you back to the moment as you finally lock eyes with him, “I don’t want to reject the bond, I never wanted to reject the bond.”
You try to shake your head feverishly, but he doesn’t let you as his hands stay on either side of your face. “Nesta told me about some females she heard outside your store on Sunday, who said some pretty foul things about you.” he begins, having to reign his anger in as he speaks about the females, “Is that something that happened a lot at the store? Did females that come into the bookstore say things to you about us often?”
You can’t even look at him now, dread and self-loathing gnawing at your chest as you think back to all the hateful comments thrown at you throughout the last few months. You shake your head slowly now, brow furrowing as you try to push down the bile rising in your throat.
“No, it only happened a–a few times.” you lie bluntly, staring down into your lap as you try to pull away from his touch again and this time he lets you, watching closely as you attempt to stand from the bed. “I want to take a bath.” you say, attempting to change the subject to something less painful.
Azriel is there to catch you when you all but fall when trying to stand on your own two feet, hands landing on your waist to situate you back on the edge of the bed, “You’re not supposed to be getting up on your own yet. You didn’t eat for almost a whole week, you’re too weak to stand right now.” he says softly, hands firmly planted on your waist still, “Do you want me to take you to the bathroom? This food will still be warm when we return if you’d rather bathe now.”
You nod wordlessly, brow pinched in frustration at your current situation. Azriel easily picks you up, carrying you bridal style into the en suite bathroom and sitting you on the edge of the large tub as he draws a warm bath. He turns the tap off once it’s nearly full, turning on his heels to leave you alone in the bathroom for some privacy.
“A–Azriel,” you call out before he shuts the door, making the male stop in his tracks to face you, heart nearly shattering when you look at him with wide, shameful eyes. “Can you help me bathe?”
The male is at the edge of the tub in an instant, nodding at you gently. He looks away as you strip out of the clothes that you’d been in for a week, tossing the dirty pajamas into a pile at your feet before stepping into the tub slowly. He helps you ease down onto the bottom, letting go of your hand he didn’t realize he’d grabbed once you tug out of his grasp to wrap the arm around your knees you pull into your chest.
You settle into the water, letting the warmth engulf your cold limbs as you lean your head back to dip your hair, up to the scalp, into the water. Azriel gives you a few minutes to relax in the water, watching as your muscles finally relax slightly under the caress of the liquid. He reaches for the bottle of shampoo eventually, eyeing you closely as he pours some into his hands to lather it. You lean your head up as he does, giving him a small nod of invitation before he reaches for your scalp.
There’s nothing but love and tenderness behind his caress, fingers combing through your damp hair to thoroughly clean it. He’s careful with every movement, making sure to not make the wrong move and send you spiraling for one reason or another.
It’s such a tender moment as he gently tilts you back to rinse your hair with a cup of water that it nearly makes you sob, but hold back for him to continue.
“Can you promise me that you won’t ever let yourself get like this again?” he says, voice barely above a whisper as he runs conditioner through your hair. “I–I don’t know if I can handle seeing you so sad ever again. I won’t let you destroy yourself over my stupidity, not when I’m the one to blame for this whole situation.”
You tense at his words, chest tightening as you hear his voice crack when he chokes back tears. It takes you a moment, but you finally turn to face him, your own tears blurring your vision as you look up at the hazel-eyed male.
“It’s–It’s not your fault, Azriel.” you say, shaking your head insistently at him, “It’s my fault for making you feel obligated to be nice to me, I–I know you didn’t ask to be mated to a lowly, lesser fae bookshop owner when there’s plenty of beautiful high fae females out there ready to accept your hand in marriage at the drop of a hat. I shouldn’t have tried to pursue you after the bond snapped, I–I should’ve let you reject it then so you could go be happy with whoever you want to be with.”
“It’s you I want to be with, Y/N.” he insists, hands shaking as they fall from your head. He falls to his knees then, pivoting so he’s face-to-face with you when he continues, “I don’t care that you’re lesser fae, I fucking hate that you’re considered that anyways, it’s a disgusting term. I’m not even a high fae myself, I don’t care about title or status or whatever else, I only care that I’ve finally found my mate.” Azriel is trying his damndest to keep himself from falling apart as he speaks, “My mate, the love of my life, the one that I get to spend the rest of my days with. I know you feel like I pushed you away and I know I made you feel unwanted, but I thought you wanted space. I know now that you don’t, and I promise you that I’ll spend every waking moment, from now until we die, showing you that I am so fucking happy that you of all people are my mate. I love you.”
Whether he realizes it or not, Azriel projects his passion and love down the bond in the moment. Your deceitful brain would’ve told you he was lying had it not been for that tug and flow of warmth between your souls, if it had not been for the true, unadulterated ache you felt in your chest when he said that he was happy that you were his mate.
Tears well up in your eyes once more as you stare at him, really taking him in, in full form, for the first time. He’s so beautiful, and though there’s a little voice in the back of your mind that still tells you that he’s lying, deep down you know that he’s all yours. Something blooms in your chest then, something stronger than you’ve ever felt, something so compelling that you can’t just sit and stare at him anymore.
You don’t say anything as you continue to stare up at him, reaching your shaky hands out of the water to cup his cheeks. He almost flinches when you do, taken aback by you initiating the touch, but he doesn’t. With the strength gifted to you by the love confession of your mate, you’re able to maneuver onto your knees and tug him a little closer, crashing your lips into his in a gentle, watery kiss.
“I love you, Azriel.” you murmur against his lips when you finally pull away from the kiss for a short moment.
He smiles against your lips, pulling you back in for another kiss as his hands grip your forearms to keep you from slipping in the tub.
“We really need to get you cleaned up before we can finish this conversation, yeah?” he encourages in between kisses, smoothing down your wet hair as it drips on the side of the tub.
You breathe out a laugh, nodding at him before turning to let him continue washing your hair, and then moving on to your body. Each touch threatens to set you on fire, but there’s no sexual intention behind them, only loving caresses meant to wash you clean of the last week of pain.
After getting you out of the shower, Azriel slowly dresses you in one of his large shirts, mumbling an apology about how he’ll be sure to bring some of your clothes over if you’d like him to. You only smile at him softly, knowing you’ll be bringing more than a few of your items over soon enough.
He insists that you eat after your bath, bringing you back to the bed where the soup is still steaming hot, likely thanks to the House that Azriel explained was imbued with magic and would do anything you wished it to. You eat the stew after taking the handful of medications and strength tonic that the healer, Madja, had given him for you, relishing the feeling of the warm food settling in your stomach.
The change in your energy level after the strength tonic is astonishing. You feel as though you can run for days, but know better than to try something like that in front of your terrified mate. But, there is one thing that you feel like you need to do at the moment, something that’s long overdue.
You’re laying in Azriel’s arms when you finally get your burst of energy, sitting up abruptly enough to make him sit up with you. There’s a look of wild concern on his face when he reaches for your hips, steadying you as you pull your legs to the side of the bed.
“Are you alright?” he questions immediately, brow furrowing when you miraculously stand on your own two feet. “Do you need something? The House can get you whatever you need.”
You give him a small smile, leaning down to caress his cheek before kissing his forehead gently.
“I wanna get this thing myself,” you state matter-of-factly as he raises a brow at you. “You stay right here, alright?”
Before he can protest, you’re walking towards the door of the bedroom to swing it open. You shut the door behind you, leaving the male in the room without a word.
The House is magic alright, you confirm that when you’re on your way down the stairs and it lights the way for you, only letting the fae lights on the direct path towards the kitchen light the way. It knew exactly what you were doing.
You’re met with a cutting board, a block of cheese, a loaf of bread and a bowl of grapes next to an empty plate when you enter the kitchen, a lone fae light above the counter lighting the area so you can prepare the plate. You make quick work of cutting the cheese and bread, trying to ignore the way your hands are shaking incessantly as you saw into the sourdough. It only takes you a few minutes to lay everything out on the plate and the House takes care of the rest, then you’re on your way back upstairs, on your way to change your life forever.
Azriel shifts quickly on the bed when you return, sitting up straight as he locks eyes with you. His heart nearly leaps out of his chest when his eyes flicker down to the plate of food in your hand, realizing what you were up to when you left the room.
You give him a nervous smile, gripping the plate with two hands as you make your way over to the bed, careful not to tip its contents onto the floor as you quiver. You wonder if he can hear your heart beating in the moment, as you feel like it’s about to beat through your ribcage with one more loud thump.
“Y/N…” he trails as you shakily extend the plate to him when you perch on the edge of the bed, looking up at you with a look you can only describe as certainty. “Are you sure about this? You want to accept the bond right now?”
“If you don’t eat this food right now, you might as well send me back to my little old apartment so I can try to die of a broken heart again.” you say, voice barely above a whisper as you give him a watery smile and push the plate closer to him.
He takes the plate from you then, but doesn’t grab any food at first, looking back up at you before he does. He leans over, pressing his lips to yours in a gentle kiss before taking a shuddering breath.
“I promise you that after this bond is accepted, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you that you are so much more than all of those evil things that those females said about you. I’ll spend every waking moment showing you how perfect you are and making up for the time that we didn’t get to spend together,” he begins, planting a kiss on your cheek, “I love you.”
“I love you, Azriel.” you whisper, “now eat that food, please. I’m tired of waiting.”
He smiles at you then, leaning back on the bed as he grabs for a piece of bread and cheese, ready to spend the rest of his eternal life with you, with his mate.
_______________________________________
It takes almost a whole month for the mating frenzy to die down enough for the two of you to be able to integrate back into society. Rhys insisted on letting the two of you stay in the Cabin for your time away, but you opted to spend your time in Summer in a secluded bungalow for the four weeks instead.
When you do return to Velaris after your time away, Azriel insists on taking another week off from spymaster duties to get your bookstore back on track and to help move your belongings to the House of Wind while the two of you look for your very own home, somewhere closer to the Rainbow where you can continue to run your bookstore. You don’t dare to protest your mate’s wishes, letting him alternate between packing the little amount of things you have upstairs and taking inventory in the store while you run the register.
It’s a sunny Saturday when you open your doors for the first time after over a month of being closed, and you’re much busier than you’d expected to be in all honesty, though it seems many of the females coming in are just being nosy to see how true it is that you’re actually back in the flesh.
There are less snide remarks thrown your way now, but still enough that they make you flinch every once in a while. They don’t bother you anymore, though. During your time away, Azriel showed you how much you meant to him and how beautiful he thought you were in many ways, with his mouth, with his hands, with his tongue, with his…
“Do you think she’s single again? Like…do you think he actually rejected the bond?” you hear a high fae female say on the far end of your busy shop, her eyes darting in your direction as she speaks to a friend.
“I hope so, there’s no way he actually–Oh my Gods.” her friend says, eyes wide when they fall on none other than the shadowsinger himself emerging from the back room of your store, a dozen books in hand.
A satisfied smile spreads across your face as Azriel walks behind the checkout counter to press a kiss to your forehead before placing the books next to you. The sound of the females whispering hastily falls on deaf ears as your mate turns to you, grabbing a small piece of paper off the top of the pile of books he’d been holding.
“Found six more copies of both of those romance novels you said you were out of, so no need to order more until those are gone.” he says while pointing at the books. “You really need a better inventory system.”
“Hmm, maybe I’ll just hire you to do it for me instead, since you’re so good at it.” you tease, shooting him a smirk.
“As long as I’m compensated fairly, I wouldn’t mind.” he jokes with a wink, pulling you in for an embrace to speak to you lowly. “On another note, you are officially fully moved into the House of Wind. So once you’re closed up for the day, we’ll be able to go home and officially christen the bedroom.”
“We’ve already christened that bedroom,” you giggle, rolling your eyes at him, “it’s been thoroughly christened, multiple times at this point. And if I remember correctly, it’s the first place that was christened by us.”
“And?” he says, lips quirked up into a smirk, “I plan on christening it multiple times tonight, and the next night, and the night after that…”
“Okay, I get it,” you laugh, slapping his chest lightly as you pull out of his grip, “You’re insatiable.”
“And you’re beautiful and the love of my life.” he says, pressing a kiss to your temple.
It was safe to say that you’re getting nowhere past the mating frenzy phase of your relationship anytime soon.
And you’re okay with that.
taglist (add yourself here!): @wrecklesssly @slutforwordsfr @georgiadixon @dreamloud4610 @angelbunny222 @bookishbishhh @fanficscuziranout @Buckingforbuckybarnes @thefandomplace
374 notes
·
View notes
Text
He sensed their topic was helping her too and so Theo was comfortable in staying with it for the time being. Not realising the path he was sending Samantha down as she started to express her thoughts. She started talking about how she had been recruited and Theo paused to watch her, silent and still, worried that a single movement or too loud a breath might startle her from speaking. She never mentioned it and he later learned that it was not something that should be asked or really revealed to others.
Her story sounded harrowing though! She was almost sacrificed to hybrids? He might have never known her, she could had died and he'd have been none the wiser. He caught that disguised sob, he knew her too well now and stopped what he was doing with the net to cross the space between them and pull Samantha into a tight and protective hug.
"I'm sorry that happened to you, but I am so glad you made it out of there." He was sure to say very clearly but there was a short and quiet rasp to his voice as he was sure to hold back his tears and his horror. "We can help this guy, we'll do all we can. It's going to be ok and we'll make sure this never happens to anyone else again." He promised, or at least thought he could without the sense to remember that there was a big wide world out there with cultists lurking and waiting.
Unaware he was doing very little to settle Violet's nerves around his counterpart, Sloane kept up the act comfortably, smiling politely to the man as Violet thanked him too and then to her, still so tired and polite as she gave her own response. Oh she was very good! He'd have to tell her when they got out of ear shot!
The man returned with the key to the dorm and Sloane's ID card. "Here you go Professor Parry, Miss Parry," he said as kindly as he could, clearly trying to do his best to seem professional in the moment. In truth, Sloane thought they now had the perfect set up for him to leave unannounced in a few days, of course he would have to look after dear cold and tired little Astrid.
"Ah! Thank you," Sloane was quick to say but he took the key and card calm and polite, "You hold onto the key for me?" He offered to Violet, holding out the little door key for her to take. "Don't lose it now, be sure to hold on tight to it," he encouraged as perhaps a tired father might, not quite able to see his daughter as fifteen yet, still young and in need of encouragement. "I'll just put this back in here," he explained as he pretended to fumble around with his wallet again to put the card back in, seemingly getting frustrated and jamming it in half way before closing the wallet again.
"You've been our saviour tonight," Sloane praised the man, putting his hand back on Violet's shoulder. "I'll be sure to tell Stacey how helpful you've been, I can't thank you enough." He even let a little bit of tears flood his eyelashes without actually letting them fall. "What a nice man," he told Violet with a small smile, "let's get you set up in the room and settled in, we can take the sleeping bag from my car, it'll be like when we used to go camping, just without the mosquitoes," He gave a tired laugh and started to head back towards the door to leave. Thrilled with their performance.
𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy
Focusing on a possible solution helped Samantha, too. It kept her mind away from the plan, from her being bait. "Yes, you're right. It was probably a ritual or something of the sort. Maybe we can force him to do the reverse ritual if there's one." Oh, right. Violet had seen a woman turned into a monster. "Maybe he's hiding a monster somewhere, yes. Or maybe he's using some monster poison? Injecting it in the student's veins?"
She paused, her fingers resting on the rope. "I don't know if it works the same way, but... I saw things. Similar things. It's how I got recruited. I don't talk about it because..." Samantha looked down at the net. "It was horrible. Someone died." Her lip quivered. "It was a fertility clinic. They were making... hybrids? I don't really know. Half-monsters, half-babies. I worked there as an intern, and I had no idea this was happening. I thought it was a normal clinic. But one day, they tried to sacrifice me and another intern. They wanted to feed us to the monsters. I managed to escape, but..." The other intern was not so lucky. "I couldn't save him."
Samantha disguised a sob behind an awkward cough. "There was no turning them back, these creatures. They had never been fully human in the first place, anyway."
Violet was really very impressed by Sloane, how easily he played his part. But it was a little bit scary, too. Like with the flick of a switch, he had turned into a single dad, worried about his daughter. No wonder she always got tricked by the Sloane she knew. He didn't just disguise himself, he transformed himself.
"Thanks, Dad," she whispered just as low when he offered her his lunchbox. He was expertly making their situation seem even more heartbreaking to the man behind the desk. And it worked, too, because here he was, offering them a room -the room Sloane told her would be ideal.
This little charade reminded her of how much she missed her dad and her home in New York. When her eyes got just a little bit shinier, she wasn't playing. She did feel like crying.
"Thank you so much, sir," she was sure to say with a grateful smile. And when he disappeared into the office and Sloane suggested they get McDonald's the next day, she followed his example and continued with her own part -the tired daughter. "Really? I'd like that a lot," she replied, careful not to sound too excited -this was supposed to be a consolation prize after all.
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
THE COMPLEX ✧₊
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: fushiguro toji/reader
𝐖𝐂: 9.7k
𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: after you catch your ex cheating on you in your shared apartment, you run into your mysterious neighbour. surprisingly, you find a friendship in him you weren't expecting. he's especially handy in helping you put together your new bed frame
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, swearing, cheating (not by reader or toji), flirting, dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v sex, mating press, dacryphilia, fingering, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, creampie, cum play, tease!toji, f!reader
Coming home after a long day of work is something that should bring you joy but as you cross the threshold of the apartment you share with your boyfriend; you know something is wrong. The abrupt cut off of what sounded like moans followed by frantic shuffling doesn’t give you much of a chance to think the best of him.
Already knowing what’s coming, you begin looking for your suitcase you have stored away. Checking the linen cupboard in the hall first and pulling it out, dragging it behind you when your – soon to be – ex-boyfriend leaves your shared room.
“You’re home early!” He looks nervous, like he can’t tell if he’s been caught or not yet. He’s about to say something else when his eyes flick to the suitcase you pulled out of the cupboard, “Going on a trip or something?” The chuckle he lets out is awkward and off-putting.
Ignoring his question, you walk past him wordlessly, pushing towards your bedroom, you just want to pack as much of your shit as you can manage and get out of here.
He rushes to get in front of you, stopping you from entering the room, “Why won’t you say anything?”
“What do you expect me to say?” You look at him with nothing but apathy, giving him no chance to pull a fast one on you, “You want me to scream? Cry maybe? Beg you to tell me all the dirty little details?”
“I expect you to care at least a little bit! Ask me why, how long, anything!” His voice raises at you, like he has any right to be mad.
“Those kinds of questions give you hope that I’ll stay,” your hand reaches for the door handle behind him, “And I have no intention of staying,” walking forward in spite of him blocking you, forcing him to either move or stop you.
Acquiescing, he lets you pass him. There is no shock when you’re confronted with the half-naked girl in your bed, the bed you bought – he can keep it. It’s also no shock to see she’s someone your boyfriend works with, what was it again? His work wife? No matter how many times you mentioned that her clinginess and his unwillingness to set boundaries made you uncomfortable he never did anything to make you feel better.
Maybe if you had been paying more attention to him, if you hadn’t checked out of the relationship months ago, you would’ve been able to stop him from cheating. Then again, if you have to stop someone from cheating they aren’t worth your time.
You’d consider saying something to her but there isn’t anything that wouldn’t be a waste of breath, not when she’s sat so smugly wrapped in your favourite sheets. She’s proud of herself and you just can’t seem to comprehend why, the prize she won is some loser who was willing to cheat on his long-term girlfriend.
The suitcase in your hand is thrown onto the bed haphazardly, she startles at the bounce in the mattress, like you were going to hurt her or something. That’s something you find amusing, smile small as you tug open the zipper calmly.
Your boyfriend follows you around the room as you pick up all the necessities you can fit, “Are you seriously just going to leave like this?”
Without looking at him you answer, “Yeah.”
“Why won’t you even try and fight for me?” He sounds desperate and angry.
Pausing, you look him straight in the eyes, “Because I don’t want you.”
“No wonder he cheated on you,” his work wife scoffs from the bed, finally pulling herself out of it, rushing off to the bathroom to change. The speed in which she leaves the room after her comment almost makes you chuckle, like she’s still scared you’ll hurt her.
“Don’t you love me?” He pleads, ignoring her comment.
Instead of answering, you turn it back on him, “Did you love me while you were fucking her?” You don’t wait for his reply, going back to your suitcase.
“Of course I did,” he cements, like he means it, and hell maybe he does but just because he means it doesn’t change what he did.
“Why are you so surprised?” You pull the zip closed and tug everything off the bed, looking at him in exasperation, “I told you that cheating is a deal breaker for me, it always has been, and it always will be, so stop acting so incensed or like I blindsided you with this reaction.”
He glares at you harshly, like he’s the wronged party here, “I thought you would care more.”
“You thought wrong,” it’s taking a lot to continue this façade of indifference, and while you certainly don’t feel as effected as some would, it still hurts, you’re still livid, but mostly you’re tired.
“I never realised how much of a cold-hearted bitch you were,” his tone is cold, words cutting through you sharply.
Sighing at him, you say, “I’ll come back for the rest of my stuff later this week, if any of it’s missing or damaged I’ll be calling the cops.” Grabbing your handbag, you walk to the front door, suitcase rolling behind you, “Just in case this wasn’t clear enough, I’m breaking up with you.”
“You haven’t even let me say anything,” he’s almost frantic, like he’s stunned by your verbalisation of the breakup. “Wait, don’t leave! We can talk about this can’t we?”
Pulling the door open, you don’t look back, “There’s nothing to talk about.”
Your steps in the hallway of the building are rushed, worried that he’s going to follow you. Finger pressing into the elevator call button quickly like that will make it come quicker. It opens just as the door to your apartment does and you feel your heart rate spike, thumb slamming into the ‘door close’ symbol.
Foot tapping impatiently on the floor as you wait for it to reach the lobby, hoping you get there before him. The fact he can switch so quickly between calling you a cold-hearted bitch and begging you to stay is chilling, just who were you living with for all these years.
When the elevator dings you’re so caught up in your thoughts that you jump slightly and then you haul ass, going for the front door before thinking better of it. If he really does intend on coming after you then it might be better to go out the back.
The back of the building is a grimy alley and while you’d really rather not go back there, you’d really rather not run into your ex more, so grimy alley it is. It’s a struggle to open the door with your handbag on your shoulder and suitcase in your other hand. You manage it though, it’s just unfortunate that when you start down the steps you stumble slightly as your suitcase wheel gets caught on one of the stairs, your handbag falls to the floor as you struggle to catch yourself on the railing.
You’re pissed off and grumbly as you pull on your suitcase forcefully, “Just my fucking luck, God, what an awful fucking night. These stupid fucking stairs, always hated it back here–”
A short chuckle sounds from behind and it scares the hell out of you. Spinning around quickly and placing a hand over your racing heart, you see it’s just your neighbour. You’ve seen him in the hall a few times, never saying more than a friendly hello and quick nod of acknowledgement.
He seemed polite enough, you would’ve gotten to know him better, but your ex had told you to stay away from him. Making claims like he was dangerous and bad news; you don’t know if you ever believed him, but he clearly felt some type of way about you being friendly with him, so you kept your distance. Mostly out of respect for your relationship and your partners boundaries but that’s a little bit ironic now, after tonight.
Your neighbour is all too amused when he apologies for obviously frightening you, “Sorry, doll, didn’t mean to scare ya.”
Turning your back on him and leaning down to your bag, you acknowledge his apology, “It’s fine,” you’re trying to be polite but you’re still in a foul mood.
“Need any help?” He offers when he sees you struggling to put everything back in your handbag. Head tilted as he checks out your ass in your tight work skirt before realising he’s staring and looking away before you can notice.
“No.” You answer without looking up, though it comes out harsher than you mean for it to, clearing your throat lightly, you add, “No, I can manage, thank you though.”
His tongue clicks, “What are you doing in this alley, shouldn’t you be going out the front?”
Without missing a beat, you turn the question back on him, “What are you doing in this alley?” Finally standing and raising to look pointedly back at him, handbag placed precariously on top of your suitcase.
Wordlessly, he takes a drag of the cigarette you hadn’t noticed he was smoking, blowing the smoke off to the side, away from you. His smile too big when he notices how your expression twists in slight embarrassment when realising his very obvious reason for being back here.
“You gonna tell me why you’re back here or are you going for some kind of mysterious woman vibe?” He’s glib, annoyingly so.
But attractive, in an irritating kind of way, the kind of way that pisses you off because how dare he be that hot and also be looking at you like that.
Your reply is straightforward, “It’s not a mystery, you’re just a stranger.”
“Cranky little thing aren’t ya?” Smirking to himself when he mentions your bad mood, like it’s so funny.
That pisses you off, you were trying so hard to be polite to him and while you were failing, you were trying, “Listen here mister ‘I’m so handsome I can get away with being an annoying asshole to strangers–’.”
“–Toji.”
You fumble slightly, taken aback by his interruption, “What?”
“That’s my name,” he looks pleased with himself for throwing you off. It’s like he’s trying to win an award for annoying you.
Frowning, you brush him off and continue on your mini tirade, “Right, well, I have had an especially foul evening and the last thing I need after walking in on my boyfriend cheating on me, is some dick telling me I’m awfully cranky. I think I should be crankier actually!”
He huffs out an amused breath at your frustrated rant, “Normally you give your name back after someone’s offered theirs.”
You squint at him, scrutinising his person. Hesitating in answering him but ultimately you give him your name, not seeing the harm in it.
It’s like he mulls it over, smiling to himself before saying unprompted, “A damn shame to see you go, doll.”
“I’m so sure,” you snark back.
Taking a step forward, you go to leave the alley, but he speaks again, “I got one question though…”
Stopping in your tracks, you turn to face him properly, hand propped on your hip, “And what’s that?”
“Why are you the one leaving?” His head tilts at you.
You don’t know why, but you decide to answer him, “It was his place first,” you shuffle from side to side, “Plus I’m not particularly fond of the fact that they’ve potentially fucked in every square inch of that place…”
He barks a short laugh at your statement, “You know… if you were my girlfriend,” he leans in towards you, “I wouldn’t cheat on you.”
“Yeah that means so much to me mysterious neighbour who I’ve never spoken more than a few words to in passing,” you deadpan back at him.
There’s an entertained look on his face as he eyes you up and down, grinning to himself before taking another drag of his cigarette.
Your foot taps impatiently while you wait for him to say more, he looks like he wants to say more but the longer it takes him to talk the more you’re not fully convinced he has anything to say. Puffing, you turn to walk off, only to get stopped by his words, again.
“You got a place to stay?”
Your brow raises at him, “Yeah… I do.”
He shrugs, “That’s too bad.”
“Stop flirting with me! I literally just found out my ex of many years has been cheating on me,” frown prominent on your face as you accuse him adeptly of hitting on you.
His shoulders shake with a chuckle, “The first time I’ve gotten to say more than a few words to you in passing, just making the most of it.”
Something clicks for you, “Now I see why my ex didn’t like you very much.”
“And why’s that?” He’s smug when he asks.
“He’s insecure and you’re very clearly a flirt.”
Unbothered, he answers simply, “Not usually, you just so happen to be my type.”
You click your tongue, caught between shocked and completely unsurprised by him, “Awfully blunt aren’t you?”
Toji smiles at you as he takes another drag, blowing the smoke away quickly, “If you want someone there when you’re picking up the rest of your shit from that jackasses place, feel free to knock on my door,” he follows up his statement with a wink, dropping his smoke and stomping it out. He’s walking to the door, adding, “Stay safe out there, doll. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.”
How presumptuous of him, he’s such an ass, and just as you go to tell him as such, he’s closing the door and presumably going back up to his apartment. Your face scrunches as you think of all the things you could’ve said to him and at the things you shouldn’t have said to him. He didn’t need to know all about your relationship like that… tonight just keeps getting worse for you.
At least you wasted enough time that if your ex did follow you down like he seemed he was going to, he’s probably left by now.
✮.
Staying with your friends is uncomfortable, they’re dating and happy and you’re sour about it. Their displays of affection are prompting you to get into motion though, finding a reasonably cheap place to live fairly quick. Fuelled by nothing but bitterness and a sickening feeling like you’ve wasted too much time with your ex.
The next step is going back to that apartment and collecting more of your valuables, having left behind a bunch of things that would’ve been too much of a hassle to grab in the moment. Taking a day off work and borrowing your friends’ car is the move, aiming to go while the place is empty.
It’s still going to be a bit of work moving stuff from the apartment down to the car and your friends can’t take the day off to help. As much as you feel uncertain about it, you might ask Toji for help, he offered after all.
By the time you’re finally heading back to that apartment complex it’s been a few days, not having felt ready enough to come back any sooner. It’s funny how everything about the building is the same and yet you feel so different about it all now, it doesn’t feel like home anymore. There’s no warmth here, just another cold place that one day you’ll pass and not feel a tug in your heart over.
Nerves run through you as you stand in front of Toji’s door, uncertainty sitting heavy in your chest. Maybe he wasn’t genuinely offering, or what if he’s busy, or what if he’s not even home. You’re stupid, you didn’t even consider that he might not be home today, feeling flustered you ultimately don’t knock on his door.
Entering your now old apartment feels odd, most of your stuff is still here but you feel detached from the place. Amazing how a few days can change your outlook so drastically. Thankfully it doesn’t look like he touched any of your things, though you never really had all that much to begin with.
It was his apartment first and a lot of the furniture is his or was bought by the two of you together. Aside from the bed but that’s just because he didn’t want to pay for a new one. If you’re being honest, it never even felt like your place. You lived here and you called it home, but it doesn’t look lived in by you. After a while you stopped trying to buy trinkets and decorations for the place, he never seemed to like them. Always leaving you feeling like it was his place first and a shared home second.
You guess, at some point, it stopped being noticeable but as you stand here now and look through your belongings, you’re realising you really do not have all that much. Whatever you take will hardly make a dent in the large ocean of his belongings, poetic in a way. You’re a small part of him but he was a large part of you.
Grimacing at your own thoughts you move on, not wanting to start feeling those emotions in fear of crying. Instead sourcing the boxes you kept from your initial move in, you tape them back into shape. It’s been so long they look weak and old; time has not been kind to either of you it seems.
On your trips back and forth from the apartment to the car, you pointedly ignore Toji’s door, not wanting to linger on thoughts of him either. It embarrassing that you told a stranger that much about your life and then was willing to have him help you move out. Though he had big arms… he’d probably be really helpful.
This whole thing is taking longer than you thought it would, your arms growing tired from each trip. As you look at one of the few boxes you have left, you wonder if it’s even worth it. Most of what’s in these are clothes or the few decorative trinkets you own.
No, he doesn’t get to keep any part of you. Not the parts that were solely you anyways, he can keep those fucking sheets. Picking up the box, you trudge out the door for what feels like the billionth time. Not able to help the frustration in your steps as you stomp out into the hallway.
Just as you’re about to pass by Toji’s door, your box splits underneath and your things spill out. Thankfully it only really has some clothes in it, but you clearly overfilled it, too heavy for the poor old cardboard. Letting it drop to the floor; all you can do is look at the pile of clothes.
A deep sigh pulls from your lungs and your eyes brim with tears, you’ve yet to cry about this all but your box breaking feels like the last straw. Fighting your tears off desperately and failing as they drip down your cheeks.
Your voice is small when you mumble a tiny, “I hate everything.”
A hand on your shoulder makes you jump, apparently out of it enough to not hear someone leave their apartment and approach you. Maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you look and see Toji, but you are, feeling a little confused at the small amount of relief that runs through you at seeing him.
His tone is careful when he asks, “You okay, doll?” Like he’s actually worried about you.
And maybe it’s because he’s the first person to properly ask you that, or because his hand is warm and large against your shoulder or maybe it’s just because he’s here, you move to hug him. Realising now just how alone you feel, desiring comfort from him.
He doesn’t push you back, instead he wraps his arms around you and lets you soak a portion of his shirt in your tears. A kindness you don’t think you’d expect from someone who looks – or quite frankly – acts like him.
Mumbling in his shirt, “Sorry…” Before pulling back, “I’m okay… sorry.”
“You apologised twice,” he notes.
“Sorry…”
An amused look on his face at your third apology, his thumb reaching up to wipe at the tear on your cheek before speaking again, “Your box broke.”
“I know, it made me cry.”
“Don’t cry over spilt clothes.”
Somehow that poor joke has you cracking a small smile, “Very wise of you.”
“I’m full of that shit,” he moves for your box, letting all the clothes spill onto the floor, “Wisdom.”
“You sure you’re not just full of shit?”
“Ah there’s the girl I met the other night,” Flipping the box upside down, he scoops up your clothes and shoves them inside again.
Realising he’s picking up after you, you tell him, “I can do that.”
“I’m sure you can,” he picks up the box easily, resting it over one forearm as he moves for his apartment door.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re taking my stuff?”
“Finders keepers,” his tone even.
“Hey?!” You call after him, following him into his apartment.
It’s a mirror image of yours, furnishing a bit boring but befitting of what you assume is a single man. Toji drops the box of your clothes onto the floor by the front door, pushing it off to the side.
His words interrupt your snooping from afar, “How many more boxes you got?”
“Uh, only a couple,” you blink up at him, still lost on what’s he’s doing.
He hums at you, “Come on.”
“What?” You’re then following him back out of his apartment and over to yours, he walks in like he’s been invited. Flustered and confused as you hurry along behind him, “Toji, what are you doing?”
“You used my name,” you can hear the smile in his voice, “Almost made me blush, doll,” he teases back at you.
Purposefully not indulging his flirting, “Shut up, why are we over here?”
“Grabbing the rest of your shit, put it at my place before that dick gets home,” he stacks the last two boxes on top of each other, smaller than the box that had your clothes in it. Picking them up with ease, he walks past you, “Could ya get the door for me?”
Mindlessly, you open the door. Why is he doing this for you? “Toji–”
“Do a once over and check you got everything,” he nods back at you, “Don’t take too long though, he gets home from work soon.”
He walks off before you can say anything, so you decide to do what he said. Checking the apartment all over to make sure you got everything you wanted, you were right earlier, your stuff barely made a dent. When you’re satisfied you’ve got everything, you go to walk out the front door, pausing at a note taped to the wall by it.
Not noticing it with your view being obscured by large boxes every time you walked by it, that and you’ve been a bit distracted all day. It’s obviously written by your ex, you’re half tempted to just ignore it but you’re nosy and want to know what he’s said.
It reads a simple: ‘please don’t leave me, it was a mistake. I love you’. Underwhelming to say the least, it doesn’t even move you. If anything, you feel pissed the fuck off. How dare he spit a bunch of bullshit, you’re not stupid, the day you caught them was certainly not the first time they’d fucked here. It was written all over that woman’s face, she was smug, like she’d finally got what she’d wanted by you finding out.
For a quiet moment, you consider writing something back to him, or burning the note, or even just ripping it up. But you’re choosing to leave it there, maybe he’ll wonder if you saw it and maybe he’ll always be unsatisfied as to whether or not you’d have stayed if you had. Maybe he doesn’t deserve closure, maybe he deserves nothing more of you.
You’re getting bored thinking about him, this relationship had already been on its way out, you just didn’t have the guts to leave him for seemingly no reason. Pretending like you didn’t see his shitty note, you lock up the place and take the key off your key chain. Slipping it under the door before walking over to Toji’s.
Looking at his door, you consider if you should knock or walk in. It feels wrong to enter someone’s home unannounced though, even if they did kind of hijack some of your belongings and stash them in their house. Feeling too uncomfortable to simply walk in, you knock, waiting patiently for him to open it.
When he opens the door he leans against the frame of it with his forearm, “I left it open for ya.”
“It’s rude to enter without an invitation,” you say obviously.
He points out, “Didn’t stop ya earlier.”
“You stole my clothes!” You defend.
A chuckle leaves him, “Get in,” he holds the door wider for you.
Pausing, you check first, “You’re not gonna kill me or something are you?”
“A sweet lil’ thing like you?” His smile is big and flirtatious, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Don’t you ever get tired of yourself,” rolling your eyes as you walk past him and into his apartment.
The door swings closed behind you, Toji watching you shuck of your shoes, “Nope.”
Standing up and turning back to him, you mumble a small, “Thanks for helping me… and sorry… for crying on you.”
He pouts at you in thought, a hum leaving as an acknowledgment of what you’ve said. “You want some tea?”
You’re taken aback by his sudden offer, “Oh… uh… sure, that’d be nice.”
“Sit wherever,” he waves his hand around aimlessly at the few seating options he has.
Cautiously, you navigate around his apartment, unsure of yourself in here. You’ve only just met him and he’s being so kind, the fact he’s a stranger a more obvious fact when you’re in his home. You hesitate for a moment before taking a seat on his couch, gazing out the window while he clanks around in the kitchen.
Finding yourself wishing you’d put more effort into knowing him, he seems kind, though with how he flirts with you it’s probably better you didn’t. His footsteps are padded as they approach you, his slippers dragging against the floorboards. The tea he’s made for you is placed on the coffee table across from you, along with another he’d made for himself.
With no grace, he flops down beside you, his head leaning back against the couch. He doesn’t seem to have very good manners, his frame spread wide, sitting closer to you than most people probably would.
After a moment, he comments, “All the furniture was still in that place.”
You guess he’s referring to your apartment, “Yeah…”
“Gonna have an empty new apartment.”
“Yeah,” you reach for your tea, “It’ll all be me though.”
His head turns to look at you, “I’d like to see it.”
You smile into your mug, “You trying to say you wanna see my new place when I move in?”
“I think I should be the first person to see it.”
Taking a quick sip, you place the mug back down on the table, still a bit too hot, “And why should you get such a high honour?”
“Because you ruined my shirt by crying into it–”
“I did not ruin your–”
“And because you’ll need someone to help with all your new and big furniture,” he smiles at you like he knows he’s right, all smug and attractive.
Being serious for a moment, you enquire, “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“Isn’t it obvious,” you shake your head at him and his smile grows, “I’m hoping to get into your pants.”
Your face pulls up at him and you push him away by his shoulder, “You’re pathetic.”
“Yeah, but you’re hot and single,” he barely moves at your pushing.
You continue to frown at him, “You have to help with my furniture now, after being so lecherous.”
You’re only joking but he answers as if you weren’t, “Whatever you say, doll,” he smiles arrogantly, like he knows he’s won you over, even if it’s just a little bit.
✮.
The new place is nice, smaller than your last but it’s a good size for you. It’s only been a few days since you moved in though, so your ‘bed’ has been a mattress on the floor and your living room has a sad looking bean bag instead of a proper couch. It’s strikingly bare in here but it’s all yours and you get to decorate to your hearts content, you just wish you had the funds to buy to your hearts content.
Your first big purchase has been a bed frame, deeming it the most necessary. A couch will probably go second and then a place for eating and a desk and… there is so much more furniture you need. Things that can all wait, nothing will bring down your mood. You’re feeling good, your bed frame came today and you’re going to put it together and have the best sleep ever tonight.
…
Premature optimism will be your downfall, you felt pretty good about assembling this altogether yourself. But now after having tried to put this stupid bedframe together for an hour or maybe more all the confidence you had in yourself has been drained. Sitting on the floor of your bedroom, instructions and bits of your bed in front of you, mattress pushed up against the wall and out the way, you have been defeated.
Happy thoughts, all happy thoughts, you can have it together before it’s time for bed… surely… Maybe this is more of a two-person job, you should’ve asked for help. Checking the time you see it’s late afternoon, is it too late in the day to call Toji and ask for his help. You ponder on it for a second before deciding you’re calling him; you want to sleep in an actual bed tonight. Plus, if you don’t get it together tonight, you’ll be sleeping on the mattress out in the living room and that just feels wrong.
The line only rings a couple times before he’s picking up, “Was wondering how long it’d take ya to call me, doll.”
“Don’t be smug, it makes it harder for me to ask for your help,” you roll your eyes despite him not being able to see you.
It’s scary how accurate he is in asking, “Taking me up on my offer to help with your furniture?”
“Is the offer still good?”
“For you?” he hums, “Always.”
He may be the biggest flirt you’ve ever met, “Then yes… I’d like your help, please.”
His smile can be heard down the line, “Those are nice manners you got there.”
“Shut up, just get here,” you hang up on him and text your address, he’s going to tease you plenty when he gets here, you don’t need sneak previews.
Though you are thankful you have his number, having already exchanged short messages back and forth. Sometimes you’ve even talked on the phone with him, you get a bit lonely and it’s nice to be able to call him. He’s not overly talkative but he will listen to you carry on about nothing and you like that in a man. Embarrassingly though, you tend to bring up just about anything so you can keep talking to him for a bit longer.
By the time Toji is in your apartment, you’re feeling down, having tried for a bit after the call to try and assemble it at least a little bit before he got here and failing. The pair of you look at the mess on the floor of your bedroom, his hands on his hips as his brow quirks at the sight. You feel small next to him, humiliated by just how badly you’ve done.
His head turns to the side, “Doll… what the hell am I looking at?”
“My new bed,” you pout back at him.
“You sure?” He double checks.
You’re glaring at him, “Yes. I’m sure.”
His head shakes at you, “Should’ve just called me from the beginning.”
“Well maybe I thought I could do it myself.”
“And look how that turned out.”
You whine at him, “You said you were gonna help.”
“And I will,” he places a hand on top of your head, leaning down, “I just gotta mock you first.”
“Is it out of your system yet?”
A beat before, “Probably not.”
Ignoring him, you offer, “Do you want a drink?”
He pats your head a couple times, “Quite the little host, aren’t ya?”
Your answer is dry, “No drink for you, got it.”
A laugh leaves him at your quickness, clearly enjoying the back and forth the two of you have. “Alright I’ll have your bed together quick; I don’t even know how you managed to fuck it up this bad.”
“Unnecessarily cruel,” you note.
Throwing a smile at you, he reaches for the instructions and glances over them for a moment before letting them float down to the ground. He’s clearly confident in his ability to put the bed together.
And to be fair, he had good reason to be confident. He gets it all assembled easily, barely needing your help save for a few moments where you had to hold something. Mostly, you felt like you were just there to watch him, and you found yourself not minding at all, he looked good.
As the mattress slides into place on the new frame, he gives you a helping hand in making the bed. Putting all the appropriate linens back on, including fresh sheets. It’s beautiful, all ready for you to sleep in, to think you almost cried about this a couple hours ago. The frame itself is nothing special but you’re feeling so much joy over something so simple.
“Thank you so much, Toji,” if it were physically possible, you’d have hearts in your eyes right now.
“More than welcome, doll,” he winks at you, “Want help breaking it in?”
“Okay.”
“What?” He asks again, like he’s not sure he heard you right.
“Okay, you can help me break it in,” when he doesn’t move, you ask, “Toji?”
“Hold on, I wasn’t expecting to get this far.”
You laugh airily, his surprise cute. As much as you were serious, you don’t want to put pressure on him. Moving to walk past and offering, “Do you wanna eat instead? I can order something; I don’t think I have enough in my fridge to cook–”
Your sentence is cut off by his hand on your upper arm, suddenly being pulled into him. “Now hold on, I’m not passing on this opportunity.”
“You sure? You seemed to get a bit nervous for a second there,” you tease.
“Was taken by surprise is all,” he grins.
“Are you really sure, because–”
He’s cutting you off again, his lips on yours, breathing against you, “–You talk too damn much.”
“That’s just–”
You don’t get to finish; he’s kissing you again. It’s insistent and messy, like he’s been wanting to kiss you for too long. His tongue licking into your mouth, pulling a whine from you at how his hands grope at your hips. Looping your arms around his neck, you pull yourself up into him, craving more of him.
He’s large and warm, so sturdy as you hang off him. Such a good kisser, lips slotting against yours perfectly. The way he’s making out with you has shivers running down your spine, finding yourself obsessing over his lips. You don’t want to part from him, drunk on him and the messy way he’s kissing you.
A hand leaves your hip and grabs the side of your face, his thumb pulls on your chin, getting you to open your mouth more. He wants to kiss you deeper, he wants to kiss you so you never forget what it’s like to be kissed by him. Leading you back, he walks you both to the bed until your legs are knocking on it and then he pushes you down onto it.
“You know,” his smile is suggestive, “I think I am hungry.”
It takes you an embarrassing amount of time to understand what he means, it’s not until his hands are at the waistband of your pants are you catching on, “Oh!” You’re feeling flustered, “I– you don’t– if you want–”
“–Oh, I want,” He returns quickly. “Do you?”
“Yes…” Your voice comes out smaller than you intended.
He can’t help but snicker at how you’re suddenly so much more shy, “Where’d your sharp tongue go, doll?”
“Shuddup Toji,” you snark back.
The breath that leaves him is amused, his hands pulling your pants and panties off in one go. And then he’s a little breathless because you’re so wet and pretty, his hands are keeping you spread apart.
“Keep ya fuckin’ legs open, doll,” he grunts, “Don’t deprive me of the view.”
“How can you be so– hah–”
He drops to his knees and blows cool air onto your clit, interrupting your comment in favour of a small gasp. Enjoying the way you twitch slightly at the action, “What were you saying?”
“F–Fuck you,” you curse at him.
“You’ll get the chance, don’t worry.”
Not able to hold himself back any longer, he’s putting his mouth on your cunt. His tongue spreading your folds, licking from your hole to your clit and back down again, repeating the motions over and over. No real purpose behind his actions, just enjoying the taste of you on his tongue, relishing in the sounds he manages to pull from you. Essentially making out with your pussy, reverential in his actions.
You try grinding down into him, to guide him where you want but he’s too happy to torture you, his arms hold you open and pin you still. Barely able to rut down into him with how his arms are around your legs.
“Toji,” you whine at him, wanting more.
He ignores your call to him, too involved in how he’s lapping at your cunt, making a mess. Though finally switching things up in a show of pity, his tongue slides inside your hole, fucking you with it. Your chest stutters with your breaths and your legs fight his arms, wanting to close around his head. It doesn’t work, he’s so strong and you feel so weak with how he’s turning you into a puddle.
This may be his new obsession, making out with your pussy and refusing to let you get what you want. Your pathetic whines and fruitless struggle against his grip amuses him just about as much as it turns him on. He rubs his nose purposefully into your clit, the moan you let out is shocked and cute. The way your cunt flutters around his tongue has his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
You’re really going to let him fuck you and that thought alone makes him feel giddy. Parting from you in a messy display, string of his saliva connecting him to your wet pussy, “You wanna cum, doll?”
Blankly, you nod back at him.
He smiles evil, “Ask.”
“Toji…”
“You wanna cum or not?”
“Make me cum…” You look at him and it has your heart leaping, his face slick with you, eyes glazed, “…please.”
“‘Atta girl,” he says like he’s proud of you.
All to happily, he puts his mouth back on you. Tongue fucking you with more purpose, nose pressed into your clit. The sounds of him eating you sloppy and obscene, not that you can find it in yourself to give a single fuck. Your high approaching so much quicker now that he actually intends on letting you cum, back arching off the bed as you get closer and closer.
So badly you want to rock down onto him, you want to grind on his pretty face, but he still holds you tight. He’s so mean to you, shouldn’t he want to make a good impression. Then again, he’s making you feel so good right now, orgasm so fucking close and then he does something devious. His finger slips inside your hole, alongside his tongue, never stopping and barely giving you a chance to acknowledge it.
It feels good and you feel the slightest bit fuller and you’re cumming, so unexpected to you that you’re blindsided as you twitch and cum all over his finger and tongue. Toji groans into you, drinking down your creamy slick. Your hearing is dull and you’re involuntarily twitching in his grip, soft whines dying down as you calm.
He keeps licking at you, you’re not able to tell if he’s cleaning up or adding to the mess between your legs but with the way he’s drooling on your pussy you’d have to guess the latter. Your thighs still shake in his grip, he’s going to force you into overstimulation, that or he’s going to have you cumming again.
Reaching down, you pull at his hair, “Too sensitive.”
“Couldn’t help myself, sorry doll,” he smiles lazily at you.
Your hand drops from his hair, he’s so beautiful, all pussy drunk and horny. “Is okay.”
While he waits for your breathing to start evening out, he licks and bites at your thighs, leaving behind so many marks that you will no doubt be embarrassed about tomorrow. Right now though, you can’t be bothered to move away or try and stop him. Jerking every now and again when his teeth nip at an especially soft spot on your thigh.
When you’ve calmed down, he stands up, undressing in front of you, not minding in the slightest the way you stare at him. His dick bobs under the weight of it, all heavy and leaky, precum dripping from his tip down the length of himself. Your thighs rub together at the sight of his incredibly hard cock, caught between worried about taking him and desperate to be fucked open on him.
“Your shirt,” he points at your chest, “Off.”
Pushing yourself up, you go to take off your shirt but before you can Toji’s tugging it off himself. “Someone’s eager,” you tease.
“‘Course I am,” his hands are quick to grope at your tits, “I get to open your little pussy up on my cock, what’s not to be eager about.” He smirks, fingers pinching your nipples.
“Are you always such a relentless tease?”
“Did you expect anything less?”
“Stop– hah– stop playing with my tits,” your scold has less of an effect when you’re pushing into him and fighting off moans.
He hums at you but pulls his hands back, “Shuffle back.”
Doing as he says, you move back on the bed, sitting more centred on it. He crawls onto the bed, pushing you back onto the mattress with a hand on your shoulder. Quick to open your legs again, hooking under your knees with both hands to push back on your legs. His eyes greedy as he watches your cunt closely, grinning when you clench around nothing.
“Toji, stop being a dick.”
“You want this dick, doll,” he returns, glancing at you, “Should ask real nice for it.”
You return a sharp, “Maybe you should ask real nice to fuck my pussy.”
“You got words now, but I doubt that’ll stay the same when I’m balls deep in you,” he grips his cock and rubs his tip between your folds.
“You gotta ask, Toji,” you remind.
Without an ounce of shame, he asks, “Please, let me fuck your pretty pussy, doll. Wanna feel the way she grips me tight when I fuck her open, want her creaming on me, wanna make a real fuckin’ mess.”
“I hate you,” you huff, annoyed that his words turned you on so much.
“She doesn’t feel the same as you,” he notes, humming at how your slick drips down and coats the tip of his dick.
Whining at him, “Toji, stop being such a– hah– insufferable tease.”
“You haven’t asked yet, doll,” the tip of his cock almost pushes inside you before he moves back.
An unsatisfied breath leaving you, almost having got what you wanted, “I thought you wanted to fuck me?”
“I do, bad,” he agrees easily, “What I want more than that though…” leaning down to talk next to your ear, “Is to hear you fuckin’ beg for it…”
Sadly, your resolve is weak, and you break easily, “Please, Toji. Please fuck me, anything, just stop teasing, please.” When he doesn’t move at your pleads, you add another small, “Please.”
Breathless huff leaving him at how quickly you gave in, he wonders how you’d hold up if he weren’t being so impatient himself. Working you up over and over only to deny you pleasure at the last second, making you cry and beg for his dick. The thoughts have his cock twitching, loving the idea of your wet eyes. He’ll just have to make you cry another way.
“What kind of a man would I be if I said no after you begged so nicely?” He asks rhetorically.
Despite his tone, you answer, “A mean one.”
Barking a laugh at your reply, “Never claimed to be nice, doll.” He delights in the way your eyes grow large, worried he’s going to deprive you more and maybe if he weren’t so fucking horny he would but he can’t bring himself to. “Don’t look so worried,” he coos.
Pulling back, he waits for you to open your mouth to talk before pushing the tip of his cock into you. Your face twisting in surprise, mouth dropping open but no words coming. His breathing stutters at the tight grip of your cunt, not quite expecting you to feel so fucking good around only this much of him.
He looks down to your pussy, watching how he’s slowly sinking into you, “Don’t know h– hah– how gentle I’m gonna be, doll.”
You mumble back at him, already out of it, “Ruin me.”
A shudder runs through him at that, just about cumming in you from your small request alone, “You’re a fuckin’ dream.” He keeps sliding inside you, rocking slightly, not able to help himself when you feel this good, “If ya need me to stop, fuckin’ slap me or something.”
“Won’t want you to– hnn– stop,” you gasp back.
“If you do though,” he insists.
Nodding firmly at him, like you want him to just shut up now, “I’ll– hah– slap y–you, got it.”
“Impatient little thing, aren’t ya?”
Though he’s not much better than you, especially when he’s finally balls deep, mouth salivating as his eyes almost roll to the back of his head. Only fighting the urge so he can see your face and watch how your eyes glaze over. A sight he doesn’t regret waiting for, his dick throbbing at the cute expression you’re wearing, your cunt fucked open and full by him, your brain having trouble doing its job.
Already so cock drunk that you can’t get your bearings enough to talk, he can tell you want to though, can see the way you’re fighting yourself. He’s surprised when you grind into him, against his pelvis. Clearly unable to find the words to ask him nicely to start moving, he groans at your shamelessness, enjoying you like this. You’re greedy and he likes that.
“Cute,” he murmurs, watching your pussy bulge around his dick.
Taking a deep breath, you moan out his name. All pitched and ruined, “Toji.”
“I got ya, doll.”
He pulls back slowly, his cock dragging deliciously against your walls. Your back arches as you moan, already trying to grind back into him. Toji bites his lip at the unabashed display, so willing to be openly needy when you’re this worked up. Not even a little bit shy when you whimper and try fucking up onto him.
Giving you what you want, he thrusts harshly back into you, picking up a diabolic pace. The sloppy sounds of him fucking your tight cunt filling the room, lewd mess spilling from your hole onto your fresh duvet every time he pulls back out. A fact you’d surely be bothered by if your eyes weren’t rolling, and your head wasn’t going fuzzy at how he’s fucking you. Managing to rub up against every single perfect spot inside you, your toes curling and legs shaking.
Cruelly, Toji grabs under your legs, pushing them up and back. Leaning into the movement with his weight, folding you in half. The angle new and breathtaking as he drills down relentlessly into you. If you weren’t cock drunk before you sure as fuck are now, your moans loud, the chanting of his name slurred and barely comprehensible.
“Fuck– how are you so–” Toji’s dick spasms inside you, you’re so unbelievably wet around him. Creamy pussy making an obscene mess on him, “Feel so– hnn– fuckin’ good, doll.”
You shake your head at him, “I– ah!– can’t fff–” you give up half way through, unable to say what you wanted.
He chuckles at your inability to form a coherent sentence, heart leaping at the realisation your eyes are brimming with tears. Sitting so pretty on your lash line, adding to the glassy look in your eyes. Moans slip from him when you shed a few tears, somehow, he’s folding you even more in half. The mating press mean and firm, not willing to give you a chance to change anything about how he’s fucking you.
It’s mind numbing how he’s thrusting into you, not realising how you’re drooling over it. Pussy throbbing at the way he slides into you, the feeling of being so full and split open the only thing on your mind. It can’t feel this good, why does it feel this good? The kind of sex that has you forgetting you’ve ever had sex before. Getting dicked down so good that you can’t even think of ever wanting anything but this.
Toji notices how drunk on him you are, “Hah– Good, doll?”
“Ah huh,” you nod deliriously at him, it’s all you’re really capable of.
Skin slapping against skin fills the room, his brutal thrusts echoing throughout your barely furnished apartment. His ego growing tenfold by the stupid look on your face, your pussy leaving a creamy white ring around the base of his cock driving him insane. Fucking you is messy, and he can’t help the fact that he’s obsessed with that. Loving the way you still try to grind up into him. Failing every time with the way he’s folded you, so needy for more that it’s adorable.
You’re hot and wet and so so snug that he feels like he’s dreaming, hooked on the way your pussy sucks him right back in as soon as he’s pulling out. Taking him so well despite the way you’re struggling to fit all of him, not that you mind, so blissed out and greedy that all you do is moan and pull at the sheets.
Cheeks tear stained at this point, orgasm so close if your stuttered breaths and shaking thighs are anything to go by. He keeps his thrusts the same, not changing anything about the way he’s fucking into you harshly, building you up so quickly that you’re dizzy.
Your back arches up into him, your tits presented to him so enticingly that he feels disappointed he can’t put his mouth on them right now.
“You’re s–so cute, doll,” he compliments, “Fuck– so greedy.”
His deep voice and crude praise send you over the edge, cunt clamping down so tight around him that he struggles to fuck you through your orgasm. Cumming around him so divinely that he couldn’t stop the moans tumbling from his lips even if he thought to. The sounds he makes stick inside your head, brain foggy as you cum but distinctly picking up on the moans he lets out. Pretty and arousing, you wish he had made more sounds for you.
Even as you come down, he keeps fucking you, fervent and desperate as he pummels into you over and over. New headboard slamming into the wall loudly as he fucks you, probably has been the whole time and you’re only just now registering it. Your eyes are bleary from the tears you’ve spilt, you want to rock down into him, wanting him to finish inside you so badly that it’s a feral kind of need clawing at your insides.
It’s insane how good he looks while he fucks into you, his lips parted slightly as he watches the way he stuffs his cock back into you over and over. Abs tense with his movements, eyes lazy and blown out, body sweaty from the exertion of holding you in a mating press while fucking you diabolically. His tongue runs along his lower lip, and you involuntarily clench around him, making him moan weakly, eyes rolling to the back of his head.
Glancing up at you, his eyes look wild, “You’re so adorable when you’re crying for me.”
“Toji,” It’s pathetic and pouted back at him, mind too broken to say much else.
He groans at you, “Ohh fuck!–”
The way your lower lip wobbles so pitifully when whining his name has him blowing his load, not even expecting it himself as he cums deeps inside you. When he realises, he slams his hips to yours, wanting it so deep inside that you’ll feel him for days after. His pelvis grinds into you and you practically purr at it, the stimulation against your clit has your cunt fluttering around him.
He's so sensitive he nearly whimpers at how perfect you feel around him, unwilling to move immediately, truly too obsessed with how you feel around him. The only thing prompting him to pull back being the uncomfortable way he’s folded you in half, lifting his weight off you, he allows your legs to drop.
Eyes locked onto your pussy when he pulls out, watching the way his cum leaks from your hole and down onto your bed, adding to the mess already there from the sloppy way he’s fucked you. Compelled by greed and his horny brain, he uses his fingers to scoop up his seed and push it back into you. Fingers pushing into your cunt and relishing in the way you jump at the intrusion.
“Don’t want it going to waste now do we, doll?”
“You’re a– hah– freak,” you whine at him.
“You fuckin’ like it,” he slips his two fingers deep inside and curls them, “Bet if I hadn’t pinned you, you’d be a little freak yourself.”
Your hips grind down into his hand, apparently insatiable and willing to cum for him for the third time tonight. Needy all over again that it’s almost embarrassing how willing to be fucked by his fingers you are. If Toji didn’t seem so keen to give you what you wanted you’d probably feel ashamed of how you twitch down onto his digits soaked in a mix of both your cum.
You gasp at him, “It’s– ah!– too much.”
“See…” he grins, “…You say that, but you’re rutting down into me so needily that I’m not sure I believe you.”
He enjoys the way your overstimulated body jerks at his touch, cunt swallowing his fingers happily. The sight of your overfilled pussy trying to push his cum out only for his fingers to shove it back in making his chest vibrate with groans. His thumb rubs into your clit and you whine pathetically at him, your hand clamping over your mouth as your toes curl.
So soon after your last orgasm that you’re finishing with barely any work from him, your walls gripping him as you whimper into your palm. Thighs trembling from the force of it, you can’t even hear anything, gaze so bleary that you’re unable to see for a few moments. Toji doesn’t stop moving his hand until you go limp on the bed, your breaths heaved as you struggle to collect yourself.
When he groans, you open your eyes to watch the way he sucks on his fingers. Cleaning them of the lewd mess from the both of you, he’s smug when he sees the way he’s flustered you with his actions.
“You’re so gross,” you whinge at him.
He only laughs as he gets off the bed and ransacks your apartment for something to wipe the pair of you down with. Touch gentle as he wipes between your legs with the cloth he’s found. Despite how careful he is with you, you flinch, so sensitive that you feel like you might break.
Once he’s cleaned you enough, he flops down beside you and pulls you to him, “Think we broke it in enough?”
You consider, “I don’t know… we might have to do that all again.”
“Because the beds not broken in or because you wanna get dicked down again?”
“Just wanna see if it’s like that every time.”
“It’ll be better,” he speaks low, “I went easy on you.”
A shiver runs down your spine, taking him for his word, “Then… next time?”
“Next time,” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m taking you out on a date first.” Not able to leave it as a nice moment, he adds, “And then I’m taking you back to my place to make you properly beg for it.”
“You’re gonna kill me.”
“Maybe but it’ll feel real good,” he chuckles.
You roll your eyes at him, “Fine but you gotta help with all the rest of my furniture.”
“Doll, with the state of your bed before I came over, I almost feel obligated to,” smooth in how he says, “I don’t wanna be visiting such a sad apartment all the time.”
He’s as presumptuous as ever but you don’t feel the need to point that out to him, since he’s right and all.
𝐀/𝐍: this was supposed to be up before christmas but then i had to do things to prep for it UGH... as per usual this fic was only meant to be like... 5k maybe a little less and i got carried away hehe. anyways,, happy holidays all !!! i hope you enjoy !!! <3
[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision
#visionwrites#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut#toji x reader smut#toji smut#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x reader smut#toji fushiguro smut#fushiguro toji smut#fushiguro toji x reader smut#fushiguro toji x reader#toji x you smut#toji x you
300 notes
·
View notes
Text
⇢ word count: 16.3k ⇢ genre: fluff, college au, brother's best friend trope, christmas/holiday themed, baseball player!jisung, rich kids!reader and chenle, part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon ⇢ warnings: chenle and reader are annoying as hell together lol (they love each other but would die before saying ily), everyone’s parents suck!, only minor proof-reading bc i wanted to post for christmas, FAKE pro baseball players mentioned (idk anything abt baseball and was not going to research any real baseball players and be wrong abt them ok) ⇢ extra info: this is part of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, three short, unrelated fics starring jisung all with cheesy hallmark christmas movie-esque premises. there’s no continuing plotline between fics in this series, they’re all standalone fics ⇢ author’s note: ok so this one isn’t exactly “short” but as always, i got carried away. im just happy i got this one out in time and it didn’t end up being 20k+ lmao. anyway, this is my last fic of my 2024 hallmark movie marathon, and of 2024, and i hope you guys had as much fun reading them as i did writing them! happy holidays and i will be back with even more fics in 2025! ⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon
“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ‘very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”
FRIDAY, DECEMBER 20
Clicking the ‘submit’ button for your last final paper of the semester, you let out a sigh of relief. You were done, for now. The time in the corner of your laptop read 10:58 p.m. You’d submitted with an hour to spare. Usually, you hated cutting it so close, but four of your five classes this semester had assigned fifteen-page papers, and you wanted to take your time researching, outlining, drafting, and editing all of them before the deadlines.
There were only a few other students scattered around the library so late on the last academic day of the semester. One table away from you was another student, a boy who had also been hard at work on his laptop for the greater part of the past four hours. You had seen him around campus, not in any meaningful way, but enough that his face was familiar to you. And tonight, you had been stealing glances at him—when he let out a groan or a sigh that rang a little too loud in the dead silence, pushed his hoodie off his head to reveal his dark hair and handsome features, or stood up from his chair to go to the vending machine around the corner and walk around the library to stretch his obscenely long legs. Yeah, you’d done a bit of ogling, you also needed a break every now and then.
He was still typing away at his laptop when you had packed up for the night and were heading out, your path taking you right by his table. You were never usually this bold, but maybe it was the rush from finally being done with finals week, or how late it was, but you found yourself stopping next to the end seat the cute boy was occupying.
Upon realizing that you were there, he looked at you with wide, uncertain eyes, slowly taking his headphones off. “Hm?”
“Are you going to be here till closing?” You asked him knowingly, a playful smile on your lips and bag of gummy candy in your hands. You had bought it during a vending machine break earlier in the night but never ended up opening it.
“Oh, I don’t know,” he smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’m hoping only another thirty minutes…”
“Here.” You offered the candies out to him. “I’m done for the night.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.” You set them down next to his laptop. Not wanting to take up any more of his waning time left to submit his assignment, you started off towards the exit again. “Good luck. Have a good break.”
“You too…”
SATURDAY, DECEMBER 21
“You didn’t get his number?!” Your roommate gasped in horror after you told her about the cute guy from the library. She had been asleep when you got home last night, and now the two of you were packing in preparation for your respective winter break plans. Sooyoung was heading back home while you and your brother would be driving to meet your parents at your family’s winter house in the mountains.
“Or his name,” you confirmed sadly. “I mean, the poor guy only had an hour left of the semester to submit whatever he was working on, there was no way he would’ve wanted me wasting it.”
“You have got to find him when we get back.”
“I’ll try,” you agreed.
There was a long honk from outside your dorm, and you rolled your eyes before peering out your window. Sure enough, your brother’s sleek black SUV was outside.
“Alright, I’ll see you in two weeks, Soo.” You hugged your roommate goodbye. Before you could even grab your bag, there was another obnoxiously long honk, followed by a series of shorter honks.
You immediately videocalled your brother.
Chenle picked up, already complaining. “Y/N, hurry up! You always take forever—”
“Shut the fuck up!” You retorted, flipping off the camera. “You’re so fucking annoying, I swear to—”
He laid on the horn again, and you could hear complaints start up outside from other people yelling at him to shut the fuck up. Then, you swore you heard another voice in Chenle’s car, quietly suggesting that he stop, but it was too indistinct for you to properly identify.
“Who was that?” You squinted at him suspiciously.
“I told you I was bringing a friend—”
“I know, I meant which one?”
“Get your slow ass down here and find out, or we’re leaving you!” With that, he hung up.
You pocketed your phone with a quiet scream, then turned to your roommate. “Ugh! Can you believe we’re related?”
“Yes,” she answered immediately, not even looking at you.
Hauling your stuff downstairs by yourself, you were a little out of breath by the time you shoved the front door of your dorm open. Your duffel bag started slipping down your shoulder, and as you readjusted that, you weren’t even looking out for the uneven slab of concrete that you knew stuck up in front of the entrance. Your toe caught on it, and you let out an unfortunate ‘eep!’ as you tripped forward. Your bag slid off your shoulder again, catching on your elbow and swinging around, the weight making you stumble a little more. You stayed upright, and you were thankful that only your brother and his friend saw all that. Yeah, Chenle was going to tease you for the entire three-hour car ride, and Mark or whoever was coming with would definitely get in on the ribbing, but you had plenty of dirt on them too. It was the natural order of things.
“Clumsy ass,” Chenle yelled at you from the car, the driver’s side window rolled down. You flipped him off on instinct. “Jisung, go help her before she hurts herself.”
Jisung. That was a new one. Admittedly, you didn’t know all of your brother’s friends, you two ran in different circles at school. You were usually introduced them in passing if you happened to run into each other at events, or some you knew from before college, like Jeno and Jaemin, the twins who lived next door to you guys growing up, or Mark and Donghyuck, who you all went to high school with.
A car door opened and closed before a tall figure was walking around the front of the car to meet you on the sidewalk. You blinked in surprise as you recognized Chenle’s friend that was approaching you, and not because of your brother. The cute boy from the library was standing in front of you, seemingly having a similar sense of déjà vu as he froze, hand already outstretched, reaching for your duffel bag.
“Hey again,” you chuckled, putting your bag strap in his hand. “Did you get everything turned in on time?”
“Yeah, I did.” Jisung unfroze and smiled at you, and you swore the sun seemed dim in comparison. “Thanks for the candy, by the way. Completely forgot to tell you that.”
“It’s okay, you were busy.”
“I’m Jisung, by the way.”
You nodded towards your brother’s car. “I had guessed.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Right.”
“I’m Y/N.”
“I had guessed,” he quipped back.
Chenle honked again, then yelled, “Come on!”
You rolled your eyes. “Pain in the ass.”
Chenle popped the trunk for you from his seat, and Jisung put your duffel bag in among their things that were already packed, then he took your suitcase to put away as well. As you opened the passenger door, your brother immediately shook his head.
“Nuh-uh.”
“What?” You looked at him incredulously. “I always get shotgun!”
“And Jisung gets carsick in the backseat.” He pointed at the boy standing awkwardly behind you. “I’m not having him puke all over my car. You’ll survive the backseat for once.”
Hating his condescending tone, but with no other option, you graciously stepped aside. Jisung gave you a quiet ‘sorry, thanks’ as he opened the back door for you. After buckling yourself into the middle seat and Chenle starting his music, everyone was ready to go.
“Y/N, Jisung,” Chenle made introductions over his shoulder, jabbing his thumb between you two. “Jisung’s on the baseball team and was in my bio lab last semester. Y/N is my annoying little sister.”
You kicked the back of his seat. “By ten months. As soon as you popped out, Mom and Dad were so disappointed they immediately decided to have another kid.”
“Regret saying yes yet, Jisung?” He asked his friend smugly.
Jisung, meanwhile, had been staring straight ahead at the road, clearly feeling uncomfortable as he didn’t want to get in the middle of your typical bickering.
“Ignore him, Jisung.” You leaned forward between their seats over the center console, your tone much more friendly. “So you’re on the baseball team? Do you have an athletic scholarship or something?”
“Yeah, yeah, I do,” he answered hurriedly. “Uhm, it’s the only way I could afford to go here. Full ride as long as I keep my grades up.”
You all did go to a rather expensive private university—your parents were alumni, they wouldn’t have sent you anywhere else, of course.
“Wow, so you must be really good, then.”
“I mean, I don’t know—”
“A full ride, I would think they only give those out to the best players, right?”
“Well—”
Chenle cut in, “You’re making him nervous, Y/N. Back up, for fuck’s sake.”
You didn’t back up. “Am I making you nervous, Jisung?”
“No, it’s fine,” he rushed to reassure you, finally turning around in his seat to face you. He let out a squeak as soon as he did, probably not anticipating that you’d be as close as you were. He sat back in his seat, propping himself up against his seatback on his forearm. “Uhm, it’s just that this is only gonna be my second season. Still a rookie, you know. I don’t think I’m that good.”
Jisung sort of reminded you of a little hamster when he was nervous like this, and your lips twitched with amusement. He really was cute.
“When’s baseball season?”
“Practice officially starts in January, first game’s in February.”
“Don’t you get cold out on the field?”
He shrugged self-consciously. “I mean, we’re moving around a lot. And we have hand warmers and stuff for when we’re on the bench.”
You kept eagerly asking him questions. “What position do you play?”
“Pitcher. I’m a switch pitcher—I can pitch left or right-handed—so they like that.”
“So it’s a surprise for the other team?”
“No, you have to declare which hand you’re going to pitch for each batter beforehand,” he admitted, then quickly tacked on, “But it still kinda throws them off!”
You hummed thoughtfully. “What about when you’re hitting the ball?”
“I could do either, but I prefer my right.”
“You’re never this interested in my friends,” Chenle interrupted accusatorily.
“Because I already know like, way too much about the twins, Hyuck, and Mark. Wish I could unlearn some of it, actually,” you snorted. “And you’ve been trying to get me into sports for our whole lives. What’s the problem?”
“Basketball,” your brother corrected you. “I’ve been trying to get you to watch basketball with me. Jisung plays baseball. Wrong sport.”
“Stop talking to me like I’m five,” you snapped, kicking his seat again.
“Stop kicking my seat like a five-year-old and I might,” he retorted.
You scowled at the back of his big head.
“I can see you pouting in the rearview mirror.”
You rolled your eyes and crossed your arms, flopping back against your seat.
“Saw that too.”
“Wasn’t trying to hide it!” You snipped back childishly. Turning your focus back to Jisung, who was looking out the passenger window, you asked, “Is he like this to you, Jisung?”
“Don’t answer that,” Chenle directed him before the other boy could open his mouth. “She’ll tire herself out.”
“Oh, you’re insufferable!” You spat. “Talking about me like I’m not even here! Or like I’m Daegal!”
“Well, Daegal is actually trained.”
“Pull the car over, I’m going to beat your ass!”
“Hey!” Surprisingly, it was the soft-spoken Jisung who raised his voice over the sounds of you two fighting, shocking both of you into silence. He continued, “Chenle, you’ve been antagonizing Y/N ever since we pulled up in front of her dorm, man. Then you act like she’s crazy for being pissed off at you. It’s honestly pissing me off.”
Chenle huffed loudly, drumming his thumbs on the steering wheel, before he finally said, “Fine. Sorry, Y/N.”
“Yeah, whatever. Thanks for apologizing because Jisung told you to.” You unbuckled and scooted over to the seat behind Jisung, buckling back in and looking out the window at the scenery rushing by.
The car was silent other than Chenle’s music, which he turned up as you pulled out your phone.
[you: i found out cute library guy’s name]
[soosoo: omfg the cia has nothing on u]
[soosoo: SPILL]
[you: i didn’t stalk him, turns out he’s my brother’s friend. his name is park jisung and he’s on the baseball team]
[soosoo: your brother’s friend that you’re going to be ALL ALONE WITH in the mountains for the next TWO WEEKS???]
[you: not ALL ALONE, chenle will be there, remember?]
[soosoo: unfortunately]
[soosoo: WAIT i found him on the team’s roster online and WHEW GIRL]
[soosoo: attached image.]
It was a screenshot of Jisung’s athlete profile on the university’s sports page. The small ID photo he had on there honestly did him no justice.
[soosoo: how is ur brother always friends w the HOTTEST GUYS who ALSO PLAY SPORTS????]
[soosoo: i need him to hook me up fr]
[you: don’t tell me ur thinking abt jeno and jaemin rn]
[soosoo: always]
[you: u don’t need chenle to hook u up if u rlly want, im friends with them too??]
[soosoo: YOU WOULD????]
[you: but you’d have to pick one]
[soosoo: god i am not your strongest soldier]
[you: exactly what i thought]
At the mountain cabin, you three were the first ones there, of course. You parents wouldn’t be arriving until Christmas Eve due to their work schedules. The house was already decorated like something straight out of a Hallmark movie—lights, red and green bows, candy canes, baubles, and other decorations all throughout.
“Wow,” Jisung breathed out, stopping in the foyer and turning around, his eyes wide as he took it all in. “Your parents are really into Christmas, huh?”
“Not really.” You had also stopped to watch his slow circle of awe. “They pay somebody to set it up.”
The wonder dropped off his face and was replaced with confusion, his brow furrowing. Chenle yelled for him from further in the house, and you jerked your head for him to follow. Your brother was at the threshold of the hallway where all your rooms were located.
“Yours is there,” Chenle pointed Jisung to one end of the hallway as you slipped by him to head to the bedroom at the other end. “Y/N’s is on the other side.”
“We share a bathroom,” you called over your shoulder as you opened the door. “Don’t use all the hot water in the morning!”
“And I’m upstairs.” Your brother indicated to a small ladder between Jisung’s room and the bathroom in the middle. “I got the loft. Won it in rock-paper-scissors almost two decades ago.”
“You cheated!” You reminded him loudly from where you had started unpacking your things in your room.
“Sore loser!”
“Sore winner!”
“Anyway, holler if you need something.”
You were still unpacking when there was a soft knock at your open door. It was Jisung leaning in your doorway.
“Hey,” he greeted you quietly.
“Hey.” You smiled at him brightly. “Bathroom’s the middle door. We both have doors that connect to it, so knock before we go in? Even if the light is off?”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Jisung continued silently watching you unpack, then finally blurted out, “You egg him on.”
“Huh? Who?”
“Chenle.” He held his hands up in front of him defensively as you opened your mouth. “I know he started everything back in the car, but you didn’t help.”
You sat back on your feet in front of your open suitcase and dresser drawers. “Yeah, I know I’ve got a temper problem. I need to work on it.”
“I didn’t say anything in front of him because I kind of got the feeling that he was being extra mean because I was there.”
“When we’re hanging out with friends that we kinda share, like Jeno and Jaemin or whoever, it’s fine. You know, they met both of us at the same time. But I think when we’re with people that are his friends, it’s different,” you explained, gesturing to an armchair in the corner for Jisung to sit in while you talked. “We were always in the same grade and stuff, so obviously people assumed we were twins. That’s also why he really gets on the ‘little sister’ thing. When we got to college, we were both relieved to finally be different people, you know? Have different friends, different things that were ours.”
“You seem to understand him really well.”
“Known him my whole life,” you pointed out. “And just because I understand why he acts like this doesn’t mean it still doesn’t piss me the fuck off.”
“To answer your question from the car, no, he doesn’t treat me like that. He’s sarcastic, sure, but not like that.”
Zipping up your empty suitcase, you started on your duffel bag that was on your bed. “Sorry you had to deal with us like that, even more so that you had break us up. I’m sure the next two weeks were flashing before your eyes, huh?”
“Honestly, I’m just glad you didn’t actually start beating him up,” he chuckled.
“Me too, that would’ve been embarrassing.” You added, “For him. To get his ass beat in front of one of his buddies.”
He looked out the room down the hallway, checking to see if Chenle was coming, then admitted, “Don’t tell him, but I was sort of calculating how many swings to let you get in before it would look unreasonable for me to not intervene.”
“Oh really? And how many would you have ‘let me’ have?” You grinned, using finger quotes over ‘let me.’
“One good punch and a hair pull, I think.” He looked to be sizing you up, a teasing glint in his eye. “You seem like you fight dirty like that.”
“Could claim you didn’t want to hurt your friend’s little sister, let me get a few more in.” You mimicked punching and kneeing the air. “At least let me knee him in the balls.”
“I’ll consider it in the event you two do actually brawl while we’re here.”
You looked up at the ceiling, thinking about your brother up there somewhere. “Eh, we’ll make up properly soon. One thing about us, we fight a lot, but it’s never for that long.”
“Okay, now I’m worried about the next two weeks.”
You laughed, maybe a little harder than his joke warranted, but you couldn’t help it—he was cute, he was funny, and he was making your chest feel tighter and your head spin faster the longer you were around him.
“Why are you in here?” Chenle had appeared in your doorway, looking genuinely perturbed at the visage of Jisung sitting in your chair.
“Because we’re talking?” You answered for him. “Or is he only allowed to talk to you while he’s here and I have to take a vow of silence?”
“Pretty much, yeah,” he snickered, walking in and flopping on your bed.
“You first.”
“You want to do lunch in town then get the tree?” He checked the time on his phone. “Mom and Dad know how much you like Christmas tree shopping so that’s the only thing not done.”
“Or is it just another responsibility to pawn off on someone?” You snorted, opening the door into the adjoining bathroom to put your toiletry bag away.
Your brother’s distant voice called after you, “Even if it is, we can still have fun!”
You took a deep breath, and came out of the bathroom with a smile on your face. “You’re right. Let’s do it.”
“Ew, stop that, it’s creepy.” Chenle threw a pillow at you.
You caught it and chucked it right back at him. “What? Smiling?”
It hit him in the face before falling to the floor. “Yeah, exactly. I’m done trying to cheer you up, keep being a little Grinch, it suits your face better.”
You climbed on the bed and grabbed a pillow to smack him with it. “Quit being fucking rude!”
He laughed and cackled, rolling away from your pillow attack until his eyes went wide with panic as he went right over the edge of the mattress and landed on the floor. It was your turn to burst into laughter at the sound he made, and when he started groaning and complaining, you knew he was fine. Jisung was also laughing from his seat.
You finally gathered yourself enough to peer over the edge of the bed, looking down at where Chenle was sprawled out dramatically like a cartoon character that had been crushed by an anvil. As soon as he looked at you, he started giggling too.
“What about this one?” Mr. Song, the elderly man who had run the Christmas tree farm in town for as long as your family had been coming for the holidays, was showing you around to the various trees they had for sale.
“Ah, too skinny.” You shook your head. “We have a lot of ornaments. And a vaulted ceiling too, so we can get a taller one.”
“Right, of course. How could I forget?” His eyes crinkled fondly as he walked you around by the elbow. “You and your brother have gotten so big, Y/N. I remember when you two were up to my knee. Always playing hide and seek in the trees.”
“We used to think you were Santa Claus,” you giggled, gesturing to his big, bushy beard. “We told everyone we knew that we got our Christmas tree from Santa every year.”
“Good to see that Chenle and your boyfriend get along so well.” He nodded to where Chenle and Jisung were throwing snowballs at each other. More accurately, Jisung was pelting them at Chenle with scary precision, and Chenle was doing his best to throw some back in between peals of laughter.
“Oh, Jisung is Chenle’s friend from school, he’s not my boyfriend,” you clarified quickly.
“My mistake.” Mr. Song patted your arm.
After circling the next one Mr. Song showed you, you were content, inspecting how dense the branches were, the height, and general shape.
“Guys!” You yelled out to get Chenle and Jisung’s attention. They ceased their (unfair) battle, meandering over to you. “What do you think?”
Chenle gave it a once-over before nodding. “Great pick as always, Y/N.”
“Is that going to fit through the front door?” Jisung asked skeptically, trying to fit his arms around it to gauge the size.
“It will,” you promised as Chenle pulled out his checkbook.
Two of Mr. Song’s grandsons brought the tree up to the cabin in their truck, and you had to open both front doors all the way for them to carry it in. They got it set up in the corner for you, and you sent them on their way with an extra cash tip.
“We’ve got to let the branches settle before we can decorate it,” you advised Jisung. “So we’ll do that tomorrow.”
“Y/N’s got a whole thing about the tree,” Chenle added from one of the couches, turning the TV on.
“Smells nice,” Jisung piped up.
“Did your family have real trees or artificial ones?” You asked, taking up the other couch.
Jisung seemed to momentarily panic about where to sit, before taking the empty space at the end of Chenle’s couch, facing you. “A fake one. It came with the lights already on. Easier for my mom to set up.”
“One or two?” Chenle asked abruptly.
“What?”
“Two!” You answered, and Chenle immediately played a movie from whatever streaming service he was scrolling through. You went to fill Jisung in, “It’s a game we like to play. One of us will assign numbers to things in our head without telling the other, and you have to reply with a number without really knowing what you’re picking.”
“I couldn’t decide which movie to watch,” Chenle added.
“So, instead of a coin flip, you used Y/N?” Jisung clarified.
“Sort of. You can do it for more than two options. Like…” You tilted your head back and forth as you tried to think of one on the spot. As soon as you had, you perked up. “One, two or three?”
“Three?”
“Hot chocolate it is.” You stood up from the couch and headed towards the kitchen.
Jisung turned in his seat to keep you in his eyesight. “Wait, what were the options?”
“That’s part of the fun.” You smiled. “Sometimes you never know.”
A few minutes later, you came back into the room with three mugs of hot chocolate, and handed one each to Chenle and Jisung before sitting back on your couch.
Several movies, rounds of various video games, and large pizzas later, you were beat. Standing up from your couch, you stretched and started grabbing everyone’s plates.
“I’ll get these if you guys put the food away?”
Chenle gave you a thumbs-up, his eyes locked on his phone screen.
“Night!” You tossed back over your shoulder as you traipsed out of the room.
“Night!” Your brother echoed.
“Goodnight!” Jisung replied.
As soon as you were bundled up in your blankets in your room, you videocalled Sooyoung. She picked up, the familiar scenery of her childhood bedroom in the background.
“Hey!” She beamed. “How was day one? Kill Chenle? Make any moves on cute library guy?”
“We know his name now, Soo!” You laughed.
“But a nickname is so fun and mysterious!”
“I did almost kill Chenle in the first ten minutes of the car ride,” you groaned. “Jisung surprisingly came to my defense.”
“Your brother’s friend took your side against him? Wow…”
“He’s really sweet, he’s making an effort to be my friend too.”
“Friend? Or something else?” She waggled her eyebrows.
“I don’t know, it’s been one day,” you giggled, rolling over onto your back. “Anyway, how’s your family?”
You stayed up chatting for another hour before finally going to sleep, giddy with thoughts of what could happen tomorrow.
SUNDAY, DECEMBER 22
In the morning, with no alarm for class to get you up, you woke up, rolled over, and went back to sleep several times. Eventually, you decided that it was time to get up, and slowly shuffled out of your room. Chenle was already up, by the stove cooking something. Jisung was nowhere in sight, probably still sleeping.
Upon hearing your footsteps, he looked over his shoulder. “Morning.”
You grunted back.
“Mom called.”
You made another noise of acknowledgment, still rubbing sleep out of your eyes as you lumbered over to your seat at the table. Your brother set a plate of pancakes down in front of you, and you squinted up at him suspiciously. Typically he would’ve made you get your own plate, or more likely, make your own food. Actually, it was kind of weird that he was up before you. He must not have gone back to sleep after talking to your mom. It wasn’t unusual for her to have called early in the morning—your parents’ work took them all around the world, and often the only free time they could find had them calling at odd hours.
“They’re not going to make it for Christmas, Y/N,” he told you softly, still standing next to your chair.
“Of course,” you scoffed, lip curling with distaste as you picked up your fork.
“They’ll be here on the 26th, and we can do everything with them then.”
“Are they staying for New Year’s?”
His silence was all the answer you needed.
“Of course,” you repeated with more venom in your tone than before, dropping your utensil back down onto the table. “What the fuck else should we have expected? Honestly, why do they even fucking bother?”
He put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“No, Chenle, don’t apologize for them.” You patted his hand. “It’s not your fault.” Pushing your chair back, you stood up. “I’m not hungry right now. I’m going out back.”
“I’ll save your plate.”
Shoving boots on your feet and pulling a heavier coat on, you opened the door in your bedroom that led directly out onto the back patio. It had snowed last night, so you had to shuffle through the fresh layer to get to the swing seat back here. The cold morning air bit at your nose and cheeks, and you tucked your hands into your pockets to keep them warm—you’d forgotten gloves. Sighing, you watched your breath fog up in front of your face, until your tears overtook your vision and you couldn’t see anything past them.
You pulled your knees to your chest on the porch swing, pushing your face into the thick material of your pajama pants. Why did it still hurt so bad? They did this all the fucking time.
The sound of feet crunching snow came to your ears, and you wiped at your face as you looked up at who was approaching you. It was Jisung, two steaming mugs in his gloved hands.
“Uhm, Chenle said you weren’t hungry. Does cider count?” He offered one out to you.
You chuckled, accepting it, grateful to have something warm to wrap your chilly fingers around. “No, it doesn’t. Thanks, Jisung.”
“It’s pretty out here,” he commented, looking around at the scenery. “Or not, if you want me to go back inside.”
You laughed again, gesturing to the empty half of the porch swing next to you. “You can stay.”
Jisung brushed off the snow from the rest of the porch swing before sitting down. He wedged his mug of cider between his legs and you watched him curiously as he started taking his gloves off. He offered them out to you, making you shake your head.
“I’m fine, I’ve got the cider—”
“So do I.”
“Then how about this.” You plucked one glove from him and put it on your right hand, which was holding the handle of the mug. Your left cradled the body of the mug, where all the warmth was. “Glove goes on the colder hand.”
He chuckled, slipping his remaining glove on his left, and wrapping his right hand around the mug. “Innovative.”
“Thank you.”
The smile faded as he turned more somber. “I’m sorry to hear that your parents’ plans changed.”
You took a sip of the cider, staring out at the still landscape of snow-covered trees and mountains. “Me too. You think I would be used to it by now.”
“Chenle was talking about maybe going to this ice-skating place later. If you’re feeling up to it.”
“That’s what’s nice about having him. No matter how much stupid shit we fight about, we’ve at least got each other when they do stuff like this.” You half-smiled to yourself. “You know, sometimes I think they did that on purpose. Had two kids instead of one so they wouldn’t feel guilty about leaving us alone all the time.”
The tears had come back, and you wiped at them with your bare hand, not wanting to soil Jisung’s glove that he had given you. Shaking your head at yourself, you said derisively, “I’m sure I seem pathetic to you. Rich girl crying in her family’s winter vacation home because mommy and daddy won’t make it for Christmas.”
“I don’t think you’re pathetic.”
You turned your gaze to Jisung to find him already looking at you, so sincerely, too. Swallowing down more tears, you asked, “Why aren’t you home with your family? I’m sure you’d much rather be with them than stuck here with us.”
“My parents are divorced. Every year, my dad and his wife go on some cruise for Christmas, and my mom spends it with my stepdad’s family. They say I’m welcome there, but they’re all strangers, except my mom.” He shrugged half-heartedly, blowing across the surface of his cider. “I know it’s kinda my fault too, I’m not making an effort to get to know them or whatever. But I just… don’t want to.”
“How’d you end up coming along with Chenle then?”
“Last year I stayed at school for Winter Break. Met Chenle in the spring, and when Winter Break plans came up this year, he was appalled at the idea of me eating at the dining hall for Christmas dinner.” Jisung chuckled, and you smiled fondly, able to imagine your brother’s horrified face. “It wasn’t even an offer, he decided for me.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here instead of eating dining hall food by yourself.”
“Me too.”
“And I’m sorry your parents suck too.”
“Shitty parents club.” He held his mug out to you.
You clinked your against it in a commiserative toast. “We need Chenle out here for our full membership.”
“Yeah, but this swing only fits two people…”
You smiled a little as you sipped your cider. “Then I guess it’s just us for right now.”
Jisung smiled back. “Guess so.”
That afternoon, as promised, you three went ice skating. The local nature reserve had a lake that always froze solid, and would rent out ice skates and sell hot chocolate and other treats to earn a little extra income—free admission if you brought your own skates. You were the first one to get your skates on, and shuffled onto the frozen lake excitedly. There were a few other people out here—couples, families, groups of friends—but the area cordoned off for ice skating was big enough that everyone had plenty of room to spread out. A wide smile immediately spread across your face. Chenle knew you well, which was a blessing and a curse. He knew exactly how to push your buttons and cheer you up.
Speaking of, your brother smoothly skated up next to you, smug look on his face. “Better?”
“With a head that big, I’d hope you’d have a good idea every so often,” you teased, lightly bopping him through his beanie.
“Ungrateful.” He snapped one of your earmuffs against your head, not hard enough to hurt.
You two had been milling back and forth waiting for Jisung, and you looked back over at the bench where you’d all been tying up your skates to find him still sitting there, fiddling with the laces.
Chenle followed your gaze. “What is he doing? He had them tied when I got up, I thought he was right behind me.”
You shrugged, exiting the ice to stop in front of Jisung on the bench. “You alright?”
“Yeah, I just—” Jisung swallowed, squinting and scrunching up his nose nervously. “I’ve only been ice skating once, and I was a kid, so…”
“You don’t know how,” you finished.
“I mean—Yes.”
“Come on.” You offered out your arm out to him.
He waved his hands as he refused. “I’m going to do something stupid like fall and end up breaking your arm or—”
“No, it’ll be fine,” you assured him. “Seriously, I did ice skating lessons as a kid.”
“You did?”
“You’re in good hands, I promise.”
Jisung grabbed your arm, and using both you and the bench as leverage, stood up. He looked around warily as you patted his back.
“There you go, you got it. Now, you get to walk until you get to the ice.” As you coached him through the basics of operating his skates, you slowly guided him closer to the edge of the ice. You stepped onto the ice first, keeping a hold on both of his gloved hands for him to cautiously join you, one foot at a time.
“You didn’t think to tell us you’ve never skated?” Chenle questioned dryly as he joined you two.
“I have!” Jisung defended himself. “Once…”
“Well Y/N can teach you,” he offered you up. “She used to do lessons, till she got kicked out.”
“Wait, for what?”
You rolled your eyes at your brother just having to bring that up. Nudging Jisung forward to start moving his legs, you began relaying the story, “I called my coach a bitch to her face and refused to apologize.”
“Just because or…?”
“First of all, I was seven, so impulse control wasn’t even in my vocabulary. Second of all, she called another little girl in the class fat to her face! She had just gotten a new competition dress, it was this really pretty purple one with sparkles and stuff all over it, and the teacher told her she shouldn’t wear it because something about the pattern made her look bigger or something ridiculous. A seven-year-old! She’s just lucky she didn’t get an ice skate to the face!” Your rant picked up steam and volume as you continued, feeling freshly pissed off as you recalled the incident.
Jisung frowned, looking troubled as well. “That’s awful.”
“I know! Honestly, I’m glad I got kicked out. I hated that woman.” You pulled him away from a divot in the ice. “Watch out. Don’t want your blade getting caught in that.”
“Thanks. You seem to have retained a lot.”
“I didn’t get very far before I was booted,” you scoffed. “But I guess we still went to rinks and out here pretty frequently, so I haven’t lost the basics, at least.”
“So are we decorating the tree later?”
“Yep, should take the rest of the day.”
“Seriously?”
“We’ve got a lot of ornaments.” You snickered at his wide eyes, looking to your other side where Chenle had been skating for confirmation. Instead, your brother had disappeared. Confused, you scanned the figures on the ice, finally spotting him far ahead of you, skating backwards at an impressive speed. “He left us.”
Jisung finally detached his eyes from where they’d been glued on his feet, chuckling when he saw Chenle as well. “He’s not very patient, is he?”
“Not a virtue he was born with, no.” You turned your attention back to Jisung. “Think you’re getting the hang of it?”
His grip tightened on your arm. “If I say yes, are you going to let go of me?”
“No,” you laughed. “Not until you’re ready.”
“Oh, thank God.”
“But let’s try this.” You moved to hold both his hands, skating backwards in front of him. “Okay?”
“You can’t see behind you,” he said, nervously glancing between your face and over your shoulder.
You checked over your shoulder. It was clear, and you redirected your path to make sure you weren’t heading directly at the next closest people. “I’ve got it.”
“I feel like I’m leaning forward too much, how do I—Wah!” The distinct clank of Jisung’s skates hitting each other rang out, and he fell forward.
Not wanting him to faceplant into your skates or the ice, you braked and tensed your arms to try to keep him up. However, since you had braked and he obviously did not, his forward momentum sent him catapulting directly into you. His arms wrapped around your waist as his legs scrambled against the ice trying to find his footing again. You readjusted your hold on him to clutch him under the arms in an attempt to keep him up, but with all the layers that you were bundled up in and the slippery ice, it was a losing battle. You were a good skater, but you couldn’t haul him back to his feet like this. So you decided to just let the two of you slowly descend, squatting down until you could plant your butt on the ice and kick your feet out on either side of Jisung, careful not to hit him with your blades.
“You alright?” You asked him, pulling his beanie back from where it was entirely obscuring his eyes.
“Please tell me I’m dead,” he groaned, the half of his face that you could see was completely pink and his eyes were squeezed shut. His head was pressed against your middle as he was still clinging onto you.
“No, you survived that,” you laughed. “And so did I. No broken arms or other bones.”
“Will you kill me anyway?”
A spray of ice showered both of you as Chenle stopped next to you guys, proceeding to double over with laughter. “Clumsy ass.”
“Nice, thank you,” you scoffed, wiping off the cold ice from your face, then a couple drops that had gotten on Jisung’s cheek. “Anytime you’d like to quit being an asshole and help us up.”
“I don’t know, you two look pretty cozy to me.”
Jisung somehow turned even redder, squirming in your grasp. “Y/N, I’m sorry!”
“Chenle, shut up!” You scolded your brother. “You’re making Jisung freak out and he’s going to hurt himself!”
“You make him sound like a scared prey animal,” he snickered. Letting out a sigh, he patted his friend’s back. “Alright, Jisung, come on.”
With Chenle’s assistance, Jisung got to his feet, and you were then able to stand back up on your own. Brushing snow off your legs, you shivered, and saw that the entire front of Jisung’s pants were soaked through thanks to the ice, and you could feel that the back of your own had suffered a similar fate.
“I think that’s enough ice skating for today,” you declared. “My ass is quite literally going to freeze off if we stay out here any longer.”
Jisung nodded quickly from where he was clinging onto Chenle to stay upright now. “I’m skated out.”
“Good thing my car has heated seats then,” Chenle said, beginning to drag his friend back towards the exit.
After a hot shower and in a fresh change of warm pajamas, you were in front of the Christmas tree with all of the boxes of decorations for it. You had already wound the lights around it when Jisung joined you in the living room, hair still damp from his shower—he’d given you first shower out of guilt.
“Hey, you know where Chenle is?” You asked, flipping open boxes of ornaments. Chenle’s loft bedroom had a private bathroom, so you figured he’d be out by now.
“He got a call—Mark, I think,” Jisung informed you.
“Oh, that’ll take an hour,” you snorted. “You can help me. Put any ornaments that have Chenle’s name on them aside, he gets to put those up whenever he’s done.”
“Any ornaments with your name are yours to put up?” He guessed, reaching into a box and pulling out an ornament in the shape of a bear with a Santa hat on. The white band of the hat had ‘Chenle’ written in cursive.
“Yep. Everything else is fair game for you. Quick tip, any bear ornaments will be Chenle’s. That’s his parent-assigned motif.”
“Got it. And what’s yours?”
You held up the honeybee ornament that you’d just fished out, letting it dangle and twist in the air, the yellow gems catching the light. “Bees. They had a theme, kind of.”
“I’ll keep an eye out.” He reached up to hang a blue and gold ornament on a higher branch, though you could feel his eyes on you as you put your own up on a middle branch. Finally, he blurted out, “Are you sure you didn’t get hurt earlier?”
“Yeah, Jisung, I’m okay,” you chuckled. “Really, we were both wearing so many layers we were practically bubblewrapped.”
He visibly relaxed. “Okay, good.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, yeah. But I crashed into you, not the other way around.”
“True, but you had a much less graceful descent.”
He visibly grimaced, a bashful smile on his face. “Mm-hm. Thank you for bringing that up again.”
“Pretty sure you brought it up again,” you teased, nudging his arm with yours as you reached in front of him to hang an ornament.
“And I would love to change the topic now.” He grabbed an ornament in the shape of a snowman.
“What’s your major?” You decided to save him this time. “You and Chenle had bio lab together, but I know he took bio for non-majors, so you’re not a STEM major either…”
Jisung made a buzzer noise, and you blinked at him in surprise. He cracked a grin as he said, “Cybersecurity.”
“Ah, so you’re a baseball jock and a little computer geek…” You nodded slowly, grabbing another ornament. “The duality of man, truly.”
“Geek?” He repeated incredulously.
“What? I think it’s cute.” You giggled and put up the glass snowflake in your hand. Then, you turned back to him hopefully. “Ooh, actually, my laptop gets possessed sometimes ever since Chenle clicked on one of those sketchy porn pop-up ads when we were fourteen. You don’t think you would be able to take a look at it sometime, would you?”
Jisung visibly sustained whiplash at your words, his head jerking back and eyes going wide before he furrowed his brows. “Wait, what? How old is your laptop? He did what to it? What do you mean it gets possessed? What exactly does it do?”
“Uhm… it’d probably be easier to show you.”
“Y/N, this thing is old enough to drive.”
You put your hands on either side of your laptop’s screen as if you were covering its ears, giving Jisung a stern look. “Sh! You’re going to hurt her feelings!”
He continued to look at you over his glasses, entirely unamused. This was the first time you’d seen him wear them—even in the library, he’d had contacts in. Now, with him wearing his casual clothes, glasses, sitting on your bed and attempting to fix your laptop, you felt like you were going to lose it, truly. Especially when you’d catch a whiff of his shampoo, and you’d have to stop yourself from leaning in to follow the smell of cinnamon.
“Seriously, why do you still have it? Chenle has the newest Macbook,” he asked, fingers flitting across the keyboard.
“Because it works fine!” You insisted, removing your hands. “I get the internal stuff cleaned out regularly, and make sure all the software is updated and everything.”
“It still gets software updates?”
“It just… gets possessed every so often.”
“I wouldn’t call the occasional possession ‘working fine.’”
“When it’s not possessed, it works great! And it doesn’t even happen that much, only like, once a month.”
“Once a month since you were fourteen?” He squinted at you in disbelief where you were sitting on the opposite side of the laptop screen. “And you kept the damn thing?”
“No, once a month now,” you clarified. “It happened the first time when Chenle clicked on that porn ad, then maybe once a year for a few years after, and slowly started happening more and more often.”
“And he was watching porn on your computer because…?”
“So it wouldn’t be on his internet history.”
He snorted. “Of course. I should’ve realized.”
“Can I watch?”
“Oh, uhm, sure?” He readjusted to make room to his left side on the mattress, angling the laptop that way as well.
You shuffled around to the other side of the computer, dropping to lay down on your front, propping your chin up with your elbows to observe. Tilting your head, you rested it against Jisung’s knee that was next to you. His hands froze over the keys, and you lifted your head back up, looking up at him through your eyelashes.
“Sorry—Is this okay?”
“Y-Yeah, you’re fine.” He nodded quickly and pushed his glasses up as he returned his attention to the screen.
Leaning your head back against his knee, you settled in to watch him work on your laptop. You couldn’t follow what exactly he was doing to the computer, opening and closing different windows, folders, and applications. You zoned out, watching his hands and fingers deftly move over the keys instead. He was muttering to himself under his breath, his low voice pleasant to listen to even if you couldn’t make out the words he was saying. This close to him, you could smell the cinnamon better, and were starting to think that maybe it was actually a body wash or cologne.
“Y/N?” He said your name, making you snap out of a daze as you realized he was calling for you. “Hello?”
“Hm?” You perked up a little.
“We need to do an exorcism.”
That woke you all the way back up. “Wait, what?”
“Complete reset. Wipe everything and redownload the OS.”
“But I have everything on there!” You pleaded, stretching your hands over the keyboard to prevent him from doing anything else. “We’ve been through so much together! You can’t kill her!”
He sighed regretfully. “Is there an electronics store or something around here? We can get an external hard drive to back up all your personal stuff.”
“There’s a mall like an hour away. Chenle and I need to go gift shopping anyway so we can go tomorrow!”
“Why did I hear my name?” Chenle’s voice came from further down the hallway. He must have finished his call with Mark. Your brother poked his head into your room, briefly pausing when he saw you and Jisung. “I thought you guys were decorating the tree…?”
“Remember how you downloaded a virus trying to watch porn on my computer in high school? Jisung is fixing it for me,” you said pointedly, never missing an opportunity to bring that moment up. “But we need to buy something. I was telling him you and I need to go gift shopping anyway, so we can all go to that mall tomorrow.”
“Please tell me the thing you’re buying is a new laptop.”
“Never! She’s going to outlive you if I have anything to do with it!”
“Based off the fact that it sounds like a jet engine taking off right now, I’m pretty sure that was a threat on my life.”
MONDAY, DECEMBER 23
“Okay, so you’ll need at least this much storage for the files that you have right now,” Jisung explained, motioning to a few different options of hard drives that the electronics store had. He then gestured to a few more. “But if you really want to have her until Chenle’s dead, you might want to consider some more storage.”
You grinned, bumping his shoulder affectionately. “You said ‘her.’”
He covered his mouth as he let out a sputtering laugh, his cheeks turning pink. “Oh God—I didn’t even realize. That’s—Ah, you’re rubbing off on me.”
“I like that one,” you declared, pointing to one hard drive that was a similar colorway to the laptop case you had.
“Yeah, that’s more than enough storage.”
After purchasing your hard drive, you and Jisung headed out of the electronics store together. Chenle had already gone off to gift shop on his own so you and Jisung couldn’t see what he bought you.
You turned to Jisung. “Want to help me shop for Chenle?”
“Sure.”
The two of you meandered around the mall, popping into stores that seemed promising from the outside. As you passed by a jewelry display in a window, you tapped on the glass in front of a pair of earrings.
“Those are cute,” you commented, slowing down but not stopping entirely.
“You think so?” Jisung questioned, looking at them over your shoulder as you kept walking.
“Mhm.” You nodded, then clicked your tongue. “I’d get them, but I already have a pair like them.”
“You do?”
“Yep.” Keeping your gaze on the passing storefronts, you said levelly, “I don’t want to assume anything about what you think of me, Jisung, but I want you to know that I don’t expect a present from you. We only properly met two days ago.”
“Yeah, that’s… really reasonable,” he chuckled, the relief evident in his voice.
“Seriously, if you fix my computer, that’ll be the best Christmas present I get this year, hands-down. I don’t care what expensive crap my parents get me or surprisingly thoughtful, niche thing Chenle somehow manages to find.”
“I didn’t realize how much my computer exorcism skills were worth.”
“To me, they’re priceless,” you assured him. “I wish I had something to offer in return.”
“Hey, you already taught me how to skate,” he insisted, nudging your arm.
You tilted your head side-to-side contemplatively. “One could argue whether I was successful at that…”
“Completely my fault that the lesson got cut short, not yours.”
“Alright, alright. I suppose a computer exorcism can be our quid pro quo for ten minutes of ice-skating lessons.”
“I didn’t pay much attention in my high school history class when Mr. Yoo was talking about the bartering system, but I’m pretty sure those two things are equivalent, yeah.”
You burst out laughing, covering your mouth and squeezing your eyes shut as you started to go a little light-headed from how hard you were laughing. You were still walking forward alongside Jisung, and felt him grab your arm and tug you towards him at the same time he warned, “Watch out.”
You couldn’t see whatever you must’ve almost walked into as you were still trying to sober up from your chuckle fest, covering your face as more giggles bubbled up every time you tried to close your mouth. Jisung kept you right next to him, guiding you through the mall crowd with a gentle but steadfast grasp on your arm, not letting you bump into anybody or trip over anything.
“Are you really still laughing?” He asked, and though his words were exasperated, his tone was overly fond, letting out a soft laugh of his own at the end. “I don’t think it was that funny…”
You narrowed your eyes playfully at him, shook his hand off you, and suppressed your giggles to say, “Fine. I don’t think you’re funny at all and I hate you, actually.”
Jisung’s mouth parted as he stared at you in shock, and you couldn’t keep the bit going for very long when faced with his adorable look of being totally caught off-guard and floored, even if both of you knew it was all a joke. You grabbed his arm this time, your laughs getting muffled in his sweater as you buried your face in his shoulder and leaned against him for support.
“Oh my god, you looked like I ran over your dog or something!” You gasped for air between guffaws, apologetically rubbing his arm.
“You’re…” He trailed off, letting out a sigh instead, reaching for your purse that was on your arm and now awkwardly crushed between you two with you holding his arm. “Here, I’ll take that.”
He had already been carrying your shopping bags that you’d been acquiring from the various stores, and you now stopped to wordlessly shimmy off your purse for him to shoulder on his opposite side from you. You reattached yourself to his arm that you had been holding, and though his cheeks were turning pink, he had a small smile on his face as he looked down at his phone to check the time.
“Did your family assign you an animal too?” You asked him, your eyes getting caught on a kiosk of Christmas ornaments as you continued your journey through the mall.
“What?”
“Like how my parents decided when we were born that Chenle’s a bear and I’m a honeybee,” you explained, quickly looking back over to Jisung. “Did you ever have an animal or something that was like yours?”
He scrunched his nose as he thought, then shook his head. “No, not that I can remember. I always had a bunch of different stuffed animals.”
“I think you look like a hamster,” you informed him. “Especially when you do that with your nose.”
“Do what with my nose?” He questioned, his nose unintentionally twitching and scrunching up again as his eyes flitted around nervously.
You giggled, squeezing his arm tighter as you couldn’t help but coo over how cute he was. “That!”
He covered his nose with his hand, and though it obstructed half his face, you could tell he was pouting behind it.
“I didn’t mean to make you self-conscious, I’m sorry!” You apologized, grabbing his hand and trying to pull it away from his face. “I think it’s really cute!”
He stubbornly kept his nose concealed. “You still haven’t told me what it is…”
“You just scrunch up your nose sometimes, like this—” You imitated it, doing your best not to make it look like you were mocking him. “Seriously, it’s adorable! Please don’t ever stop, I might die!”
Jisung’s eyes crinkled and he dropped his hand back down as he chuckled. “Well we can’t have that.”
Your phone buzzed in your hand then, and you saw that it was your brother calling. “Mm, hold on, it’s Chenle.”
“Hey, where are you guys?” Chenle asked on the other end.
“We’re still on the first floor,” you told him. “By the pretzel stand. Where are you?”
“What have you two been doing? I’m on the third floor; I’ve been through the whole mall already. I’m done,” he scoffed. “Stay there, I’ll come to you.”
“I had to get my hard drive first, remember? You got a head start.”
“Anyway, are you done?”
“No, I have a couple more people to find gifts for.”
“Alright, hold on, I see you.”
You craned your neck looking for Chenle, still with your phone to your ear. “Damn bitch, how many old ladies did you take out on your way here?”
“Only two,” Chenle’s voice came through your phone and from directly beside you at the same time. He was loaded up with shopping bags on both arms.
You jumped out of your skin before rolling your eyes and hanging up the call. “Did you see a place that sold bath bombs and stuff?”
“Yeah, second floor, directly to the left off the escalator.”
“That’s my next stop, SooSoo loves that stuff,” you declared.
“There’s a baseball specialty shop on the third floor,” Chenle stated, eyes lingering on where you were still holding onto his friend’s arm. “If you want to go check it out, Jisung?”
You perked up, giving him an enthusiastic smile. “That sounds awesome! You totally should.”
Jisung turned to Chenle and nodded. “Yeah, sounds cool. Let’s do it.”
“I’ve still got a couple people on my list, so I’ll call you guys when I’m done so we can meet up and go,” you said, reaching for your purse that was still on Jisung’s shoulder. He handed it back to you, and you hurried off to take care of your final errands.
Back at the house, you watched on with bated breath as Jisung performed his laptop exorcism. The screen turned on, which already was good news. After a few more progress bars, you eventually saw your homescreen and looked at him with guarded hope.
“I still need to transfer your personal files back over. And you won’t know if it worked unless it just never gets possessed again, but…” Jisung gestured to your laptop with a certain finality.
“Ahh, thank you! Thank you!” You cheered, hugging him.
“O-Oh, you’re welcome,” he mumbled, hesitantly hugging you back.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 24
Christmas Eve was ushered in with a fresh snowfall overnight, and maybe the Christmas spirit finally possessed you, because all three of you were outside playing in it like little kids. A rather lumpy snowman had already been built and decorated with various rocks, sticks, and kitchen utensils. Snow angels were scattered around, and Chenle had just thrown the very first snowball, hitting Jisung squarely in the back of the head.
You laughed incredulously as the pitcher turned around and calmly started packing snow between his hands.
“Are you stupid?” You snickered at your brother, who was also preparing another snowball.
Before he could finish readying that one, Jisung wound up and launched his snowball, nailing Chenle in the face. You weren’t even focused on your brother as he desperately wiped the snow off his face with both hands, however, your eyes still watching Jisung, who was chuckling to himself. You’d been too preoccupied at the Christmas tree farm to really watch any of their snowfall fight that had happened there, and obviously hadn’t gone to any of Jisung’s games before, so this was the first time you’d seen him really use any of his pitcher skills. While it wasn’t a proper pitch, the practiced ease and skill that he clearly possessed even in doing something as silly as throwing a snowball was admittedly really attractive.
Chenle had taken his loss and grabbed a stick to start writing something in the snow, a good distance away from where you and Jisung were, his back to the two of you.
Stepping deliberately closer to Jisung, you said, “That was really cool, Jisung.”
He fidgeted with making sure his beanie was down over his ears. “Ah, I mean, it wasn’t a real pitch or anything—”
“Then can you teach me how to pitch for real?” You requested sweetly. “I’m very into baseball these days.”
“Uhm, y-yeah,” he agreed, clearing his throat and nodding. He stooped down to pack more snow between his hands into a round sphere, then held it out for you. “Here, that should be the right size.”
You graciously accepted it, then looked at him expectantly.
“Do you prefer to throw with your left or your right?” He asked.
You held up your dominant hand holding the snowball, and he nodded.
“Okay, uhm, you should stand with your feet like this.” He demonstrated the correct positioning himself, and you copied.
Jisung went through the basic steps with you, making minor adjustments here and there, and you were actually finding it sort of interesting, outside of the cute boy teaching you something he was passionate about. Learning a new skill or something to that effect. When he was showing you how to actually move your arm when throwing, you were genuinely trying to do it per his verbal instructions, but apparently there was still something wrong with the way you were doing it. And so he walked behind you, covering your gloves hand with his. You could feel his warm breath on the back of your neck, and his other hand grabbed your opposite shoulder to correct your posture as he manually moved your arm through the correct motion. Slow at first, talking through it.
“Feel how it’s different than what you were doing?” He asked, doing it again, a little faster this time.
But you were long gone, your brain white noise and your vision blurring a little bit (but that was mostly due to the cold wind hitting your eyes). He still smelled like cinnamon, and you wanted to listen to his voice all day. Jisung could read you a car manufacturer’s manual for all you cared.
“Mm, mhm,” you agreed absentmindedly.
“Alright, I’m going to step back and let you throw your first pitch.” He patted your shoulder and did just that, leaving you feeling even colder.
You momentarily panicked as you grappled in your short-term memory for anything that he had just been saying. Taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, deciding that you would probably suck anyway, and to just fucking do it. Trusting your gut and muscle memory of what Jisung had just been walking you through, you did your damndest to throw that snowball in something akin to a pitch.
Amazingly, the snowball actually hit the trunk of the tree that you had been aiming for, and you stared at it in disbelief, hands hanging down by your side. Jisung clapped, the sound dampened by his gloves, but his cheers were surprisingly upbeat for how soft-spoken of a guy he was.
“Wow! That was a really good first pitch!” He congratulated you, holding up both his palms for you to high-five. “So awesome…”
You high-fived him, but stayed holding onto his hands, wide smile overtaking your features. “Thank you.”
“I—You’re welcome.” He held onto your hands too, throat bobbing up and down as he swallowed.
“Jisung!” Chenle yelled out, reminding the both of you of his presence. “Can you get my phone? I made Daegal out of snow and I want to take a picture. It should be charging on my bed.”
“Yeah!” Jisung called back. He gave you a regretful look, letting your hands go to trudge back up to the cabin.
Rounding on your brother, you stomped over to him, observing the admittedly cute snow-Daegal for a moment before addressing him.
“You can get your own phone,” you scoffed, crossing your arms.
“I thought I might hurt Jisung’s feelings if I told him to leave to his face,” Chenle replied nonchalantly. He looked at you over his large-framed sunglasses. “I feel like I have to warn you, as your big brother—”
“By ten months.”
“—about Jisung.”
You gave him a sour look, knowing that he knew that you wouldn’t be able stop yourself from asking a follow-up question to a statement like that. “What about him?”
“I know what you’ve been trying to do this whole time. You’re not ��very into baseball,’ you’re into Jisung.”
You immediately got fired up, hands balling into fists at your sides. “Don’t you dare start pulling the ‘my friends are off-limits’ card now. You’ve never—”
“Hey, I like Jisung.” He held up his hands defensively, an amused smirk on his face. “If I had to make a tierlist of my friends for you to date, he’d be like, the only one in S-tier.”
You snorted and rolled your eyes. “Do you have a fantasy draft of boyfriends for me too?”
“I’m genuinely trying to help you here, alright?”
“So, what? Does he have a girlfriend or something?”
“Not exactly…” Chenle sighed. “Right before we left, during finals week, he met this girl in the library and just absolutely fell head-over-heels, okay? Like, he’s never even looked once at all the girls who show up to his games, but this one says three words to him and gives him some candy and he’s a goner. I don’t get it.”
It took everything in you to suppress your giddy grin and instead cock your head, playing dumb as you asked, “Wait, did he even get this girl’s name?”
“No, he never got a chance since they were both working on finals stuff,” he answered. “Anyway, I’m just trying to warn you. You’ve got to compete with the romanticized version of mystery library candy girl that he has in his head.”
“Mm. Tough competition,” you nodded with mock solemnity.
“I’m serious, Y/N. He called me at like midnight walking back from the library to tell me about it. He’s got it bad.” As if suddenly realizing everything he had just told you might dampen your spirits, Chenle’s entire demeanor shifted, and he gingerly patted the top of your head. “But uh, you’ve totally got this. I’m rooting for you, lil sis.”
“Right. Thanks… big bro,” you replied with intentional stiltedness, softballing a punch to his shoulder.
That night after dinner, you all sat down around the Christmas tree for your family tradition of opening one present on Christmas Eve. You sifted through the presents under the tree, some of which were ones that had been shipped here ahead of time by your parents or other extended family, others from Chenle.
“Hmm… one or two?” You asked, your eyes on two particular gifts.
“One,” Chenle and Jisung answered unanimously.
You grabbed the one that had been under your left hand, returning to your seat next to Jisung. Chenle had already picked his box, and fished out a gift bag, plopping it in front of Jisung. He seemed surprised, blinking down at it.
“But—”
“I got you more than one gift, dummy,” Chenle cut him off, already guessing what his confusion was about. “Go ahead.”
“No!” You stopped Jisung. He looked at you with alarm as you snatched the gift bag away, putting it back under the tree and replacing it with a different, much smaller one instead. “Open mine.”
Jisung looked even more confused, and slightly betrayed. “I thought we agreed we weren’t doing gifts…?”
“Yeah, but then I saw this and…” You smiled sheepishly. “Just open it!”
Shaking his head, he pulled out the tissue paper, then removed the object at the bottom of the bag. It was wrapped in more tissue paper to protect it, which he carefully wrapped, revealing the ornament that you had bought yesterday while you were split up. It was in the shape of a hamster popping out of a present box, and as soon as you saw it at the mall kiosk, you knew you had to get it for him.
Jisung turned it over his hands, looking up at you still a little confused, but with a smile. “Wait…”
“It looks just like you!” You giggled, taking it from him to hold it up next to his face. Aiming your next question at Chenle, you asked, “Doesn’t it?”
Your brother started laughing, reaching forward to tweak one of Jisung’s cheeks. “Ha, she’s right. How adorable.”
Jisung pushed his hand away, rolling his eyes. His gaze softened when he looked back over at you. “Thank you, Y/N. It’s great.”
“Hang it up!” You urged, giving it back to him and gesturing to the tree.
He got up on his knees to reach forward and affix it to an empty branch, between a bear ornament and honeybee ornament.
“Okay, Y/N, you next,” Chenle directed.
Ripping the wrapping paper off the small box, you were met with a small jewelry box, and took that lid off. Inside was a pair of ornate, bejeweled earrings, a little flashy for your taste. You checked the card.
“Great-Aunt Ying,” you announced, and Chenle let out an ‘ahh’ sound in understanding. You put the lid back on the box and set it aside. “SooSoo will love those.”
“Who’s that?” Jisung asked curiously as your brother started unwrapping his present. “Not your great-aunt.”
“Sooyoung, my roommate since freshman year,” you explained. “She’s also like, my best friend. And those earrings aren’t really my style, but I know she would wear them like, all the time, so I’ll just give them to her when we get back.”
Chenle’s box was a bit larger than yours had been, and was similarly stylish. He turned it over to shake the lid off and make the contents fall out all in one go, catching the fabric that fell out in his hand. Holding it up, it was a tie in what looked like a nice material, a monochrome and not exceptionally busy pattern on it.
“Another tie, wonder who it’s from…” he snorted, picking up the card. “Oh, Great-Uncle Feng. Surprise.”
“Does he think you’re eating all the ties he gives you or something?” You snickered.
“I think he’s so old he forgets he’s given me a tie before and thinks I don’t own any.” Chenle then offered it out to Jisung. “You need a tie? If not, I’ll ask the other guys.”
“I would need a suit first…” Jisung admitted, rubbing the back of his neck.
Chenle stared at him in disbelief, then sighed. “Okay, so we’re getting you a suit when we get back to school.”
“What do I need a suit for?”
“Don’t you have formal stuff that you have to go to for baseball? Awards or press conferences or something?”
“That’s maybe once a year. I just rent a suit!”
“Jisung, don’t say another word, you’re going to kill me.” He put a hand over his heart as if it were going to give out any second.
You chuckled at their antics, starting to clean up the trashed wrapping paper. “Christmas movies?”
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 25
You felt like a little kid, unable to sleep the night before Christmas morning. It was after midnight, so it technically was Christmas now. And even thought you knew that neither Santa nor you parents were coming, you were still oddly giddy. You had already videocalled Sooyoung to recap the developments of the day, but you were still replaying everything in your mind, kept up with thought of Jisung. How it felt being that close to him when he was teaching you to throw a snowball, the information that apparently he was just as smitten with you after the library as you were with him. Even Chenle’s unofficial blessing put your mind at ease—not because your brother determined who you dated, but he knew Jisung better than you did and was brutally honest, so if he said that he liked Jisung for you, you knew he meant it.
Pushing your covers off, goosebumps immediately popped up on your legs that were now exposed to the cool air. You treaded over to the bathroom door. The light was off, but you still knocked. When there was no response, you opened it. You didn’t stop there, however, continuing on to the opposite door, which you knew led to Jisung’s room. Taking a deep breath, you knocked softly on that one too.
You heard the rustling of sheets and quiet padding of footsteps before the door handle twisted and opened, Jisung on the other side. He looked down at you, nose scrunched up in bewilderment.
“Hey, is everything okay?” He asked, rubbing one of his eyes behind his glasses.
“Yeah. Uhm, sorry, did I wake you up?”
“No, I uh, I couldn’t sleep, actually.”
“Me neither.”
“Oh.”
There was a pause, and you fidgeted with the ends of your longsleeve. “Do you want to hang out for a bit? Since we’re both up…”
“Oh! Y-Yeah, sure.” He stepped back from the door, motioning you in. “Uhm, come in.”
“Thanks.” You stepped inside, and he closed the door behind you.
The bedsheets were rumpled on one side, so you sat down on the other side, pulling the blanket over your chilly legs. Jisung watched you, frozen halfway from the bathroom to the bed for a second.
“I’m cold,” you told him, turning your phone on.
“Of course, right,” he breathed out, snapping out of his trance.
He climbed under the covers as well, putting a headphone in his ear opposite from you and pressing play on a video on his phone. Curious, you peeked over at his screen to see what he was watching. It looked like a bunch of clips of professional baseball pitchers.
“It’s my favorite pro pitcher,” Jisung blurted out, pausing the video again. He had apparently noticed you snooping at his screen. “Well, that’s currently active. He’s a lefty, and he does this thing on some of his pitches where he gets this spin and—”
You blinked as he had abruptly cut himself off in the middle of his sentence. Tilting your head, you asked, “What? Why’d you stop?”
“You’re not really interested in baseball, are you?” He questioned, turning his eyes down to his lap. “You’re just being nice.”
“Hold on—”
“It’s okay, you can go back to what you were doing, I don’t want to bore you.”
“Jisung,” you giggled, turning over on your side fully to face him. “You really haven’t figured it out?”
His brow furrowed and he pouted slightly as he seemed to genuinely be confused. “Figured what out?”
“I’m interested in baseball because I’m interested in you,” you said bluntly, watching the gears turn in his head before his eyes widened.
“Wh—Oh. Really?”
“Mhm. But Chenle did warn me that apparently you’re head over heels for some mystery girl that you met in the library during finals week who gave you candy,” you teased, letting out a wistful sigh. “So I have no chance…”
Jisung dropped his phone to cover his face with both hands, letting out a noise of embarrassment from deep in his chest, shaking his head. “Oh my God…”
“I told SooSoo about you too,” you informed him. “After the library.”
He opened his hands to peek at you meekly. “Really?”
“Really.”
Jisung glanced upwards, and you snickered.
“Chenle’s not like that. He’s not going to care unless you’re a dick to me.”
“Because only he gets to be a dick to you?” He joked, slowly removing his hands all the way from his face.
“Yep. Same for the girls he dates. Nobody gets to be a bitch to him except me.”
“So, now what?” He asked nervously, glancing around the room.
“Now, you’re going to finish telling me about your favorite pitcher,” you stated, scooting over until you were snuggled into his side, head resting on his shoulder so you could see his phone screen better.
Jisung grabbed his earbud case from the nightstand, bringing the other one out. He offered it to you, and you put it in as he turned his phone back on. He restarted the compilation, but didn’t press play yet, instead launching back into his explanation from before, excitedly talking faster now.
“So this is Hwang Myungjun. Like I said, he’s my favorite pitcher that’s in the league right now. He’s a lefty and—you’ll see it in this video, but—he does this really cool thing on some of his pitches where he can get this certain spin on the ball and…”
You listened to him go on and on with a smile on your face, breathing in the warm smell of cinnamon.
In the morning, you stirred a little, sighing and pulling the covers up to your nose. Covers that smelled like cinnamon. Opening one of your eyes, you were greeted with Jisung already wide awake, sitting up against the headboard, staring at you from behind his glasses.
You rubbed your eye and yawned. “Christ—Did you sleep at all?”
“Yeah, we get up early for baseball conditioning, so I don’t really sleep in even on days off.” He rubbed the back of his neck, ears turning pink. He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Good morning…”
“Morning,” you mumbled, yawning again. “Sorry for falling asleep here.”
“It’s okay. Sorry for talking you to sleep.”
“No, it was nice. I like your voice.” You pushed yourself into a half-sitting position. Pecking his cheek, you added, “Merry Christmas.”
His face flushed as he smiled down at his hands. “Merry Christmas…”
Climbing out of bed, you stretched your arms over your head, then wrapped them around yourself. “Anyway, I should emerge from my own room. Just because he doesn’t care if we date doesn’t mean Chenle needs to think something other than watching baseball compilations happened in here last night.”
Jisung squeezed his eyes shut and nodded his head. “Good idea.”
“See you in a few.” You bid him a momentary farewell, opening the door to the adjoining bathroom.
Shuffling back into your own bedroom, you almost screamed when you saw a figure sitting on your bed in the dark. You grabbed for the closest thing in your reach, a candlestick on the dresser next to you, ready to swing. The figure turned on the lamp next to the bed, and you saw that it was Chenle, still contemplating hitting him anyway. You decided to set your weapon down, however.
“What the fuck?!” You hissed, stalking up to your bed and grabbing a stuffed animal to chuck at him instead. He caught the stuffed bee, holding it to his chest as he smirked at you.
“Something you want to tell me?” He raised an eyebrow. “About where you’ve been?”
You followed his line of sight between you and the bathroom door that you just came out of. “What are you, the piss patrol? Can’t a bitch pee in peace around here?”
“Toilet didn’t flush, sink didn’t run,” he immediately shot back. “Also, I’ve been in here for the past hour.”
“Don’t be weird about it—” You held up a finger in his face threateningly, and a victorious grin immediately spread across his features. “Jisung and I talked about how we felt, and I fell asleep in his room. Nothing else, okay?”
Chenle gave you a look that told you he didn’t entirely believe you, but he didn’t press you any further. “God, how am I going to choose between being your brother of honor and his best man?”
“We haven’t even gone on a date!” You grabbed a pillow and tried to pushed it over his face to shut him up. He narrowly saved himself from being smothered, cackling as you resorted to smacking him with it instead. “As if I’d even ask you to be my whatever you just made up! You’ll be lucky if you even get an invite, I swear to—”
The door to your room was thrown open from the bathroom, Jisung looking around the room wildly. “Y/N! Are—”
You stopped your assault on your brother to smile breathlessly at Jisung. “Oh. Hi.”
“I heard you yelling, I wanted to make sure…”
“I’m fine,” you reassured him. “Thanks, Jisung.”
“I know!” Chenle announced loudly. “I know everything, Park Jisung! Last night, you and my little sister—”
You succeeded in smothering Chenle this time, muffling whatever obnoxious things he was about to spew.
After breakfast and opening presents in the morning, Jisung excused himself to go call his parents. Chenle tsked, turning the gaming console on to start up one of the new games he’d gotten and tossing you a controller.
“He tell you how he ended up coming with us?” Your brother asked, his gaze on the screen.
“Yeah. His dad goes on a cruise and his mom is with his stepdad’s side of the family. So he would’ve just been at the school if you didn’t bring him,” you replied, only paying half-attention to the opening cutscene.
“At least ours pretend to make an effort,” he scoffed. “His mom didn’t even offer to pay for his plane ticket.”
“Hm?”
“His mom and stepdad live on the other side of the country. They technically ‘invite’ him to Christmas every year, but he’d have to get himself there and back.”
“So it’s hardly a genuine invite.”
“And you know what his stepdad does?”
“What?”
“CEO of that logistics company that Mom and Dad are always talking about. The big one.”
“Shit, really? And he can’t be bothered to pay for his wife to see her own son once a year?”
He clicked his tongue. “Apparently not.”
A few levels into the video game, Chenle’s phone lit up with a text. He paused the game, and sighed upon reading the message. “Jisung says we can eat lunch without him. He’s suddenly not feeling well.”
You winced. “I take it his phone calls didn’t go well.”
“You go check on him. You can handle crying people better than me.”
You nodded in agreement, getting up from the couch. Outside of Jisung’s bedroom door, you listened carefully first, just in case he was still on a call. It was quiet, and you knocked softly.
“Jisung?” You called out. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” he replied, his voice sounding far away.
Opening the door, you saw him laying on the bed on top of his covers, his back to the door. You stayed in the doorway, asking, “Do you want to be alone?”
“No.”
You sat down on the bed behind him, still giving him his space. “Do you want to talk or do you want quiet?”
“My dad didn’t even pick up,” he muttered. “And my mom—God, I got to tell her about school for all of five seconds before she started gushing about how her grandbabies are learning how to write or whatever. I’ve never even met those kids, honestly, I don’t give a fuck about them. They’re not even her grandkids, they’re her husband’s. Apparently, one of them is on a little league baseball team. When she started saying I could teach him how to pitch when I come to visit for summer, I pretended the call was dropping and hung up. ‘When I come to visit’—I live with my dad in the summer because he didn’t move away from me.”
“I’m sorry, Jisung,” you said, feeling the hurt in your heart as his voice tightened and cracked.
“It’s funny, they used to have these-these blowout fights every year about who got me for Christmas,” he sniffled. “And now that they moved on and got their new families, they couldn’t care less about me.”
“Lucky for me and Chenle, then. Because we got you this year.”
He laughed, finally rolling over to face you. He wiped at his eyes, but you still saw the tears that had run down the side of his face. “You really mean that?”
“Of course I do.” You gently stroked his hair, brushing some of it out of his face.
Jisung scooted closer, until he could pillow his head in your lap instead, his eyes fluttering shut as you resumed your ministrations. “I’m glad you guys got me too…”
THURSDAY, DECEMBER 26
A knock on your bedroom door woke you up. It opened, and somebody who was neither Chenle nor Jisung peered in.
“Merry Christmas, sweetie,” your mother hummed lightly. “Are you up?”
“Mm, yeah,” you grunted, pushing yourself up against your pillows.
She came over to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning.”
“Hi, Mom. Merry Christmas,” you smiled up at her, letting her take your hand in hers. “Did you and Dad just get here?”
“A few minutes ago. Your father’s getting Chenle.”
There was a loud thunk from above you, followed by a yelp and two very familiar and similar laughs that you recognized as your families’. You chuckled as your mom rolled her eyes fondly.
“I think he was successful,” you snickered.
“We’re going out for breakfast when you’re ready,” she informed you, squeezing your hand before letting it go.
“Mmkay.” You yawned as she headed for your door. “I’ll let Jisung know.”
She paused, tilting her head. “Who?”
“Didn’t Chenle tell you his friend was coming? Park Jisung?” You pointed at the room next door.
“Oh, I thought he was bringing Mark for some reason.” She looked at you with concern. “Does Jisung like basketball too?”
“I… don’t know? He plays baseball?”
“Oh. Hm.”
“So, what are you studying, Jisung?” Your mother asked, stirring sugar into her coffee.
The five of you were at a diner in the small town at the base of the mountain, you, Jisung, and Chenle packed into one side of a booth and your parents on the other. The car ride had been filled with you and Chenle filling your parents in on your various happenings from this semester, but now your parents seemed to have zeroed in on the newcomer.
“Cybersecurity,” he rushed to answer.
Both your parents seemed impressed by that. Your dad spoke next, “And what do your parents do?”
“He’s got an athletic scholarship, Dad,” Chenle cut in before you could. You both knew what he was really asking about.
“Full ride,” you added proudly. “Baseball. He’s the pitcher.”
“Really?” Your dad’s interest was piqued—he was a bigger sports fan than your brother.
“Yes, sir,” Jisung replied.
“The school doesn’t give out full athletic scholarships frequently. You know that?”
“No, sir, I-I didn’t know that.”
Your dad took a sip of his own coffee, regarding Jisung like he was evaluating his investment portfolio. “So what makes you so valuable?”
“W-Well, uhm, I-I don’t—”
“He’s ambidextrous,” you answered for him. “He can pitch with both hands.”
“Switch pitcher?” Your dad hummed thoughtfully. “You know who the best switch pitcher in the history of the league is, right?”
“Kim Beomjin, sir,” Jisung replied firmly.
“Has he passed your test, yet, Dad?” Chenle scoffed. “Come on, stop treating him like he’s interviewing at the company.”
“I was trying to get to know—”
“You were being a bit much, dear,” your mother interrupted your dad’s attempts to defend himself.
“Alright. My apologies, Jisung.”
“It’s fine, sir, really.”
You didn’t understand why your mother had asked if Jisung liked basketball until you got back to the house. Your parents had brought a few more presents with them, including, kindly, a couple for Jisung. Except they hadn’t been expecting Jisung, they had been expecting Mark, which evident in the gifts. Both Chenle and Mark loved basketball, so the matching jerseys for their favorite team would’ve made the perfect present, if it had been Mark receiving it.
“I’m so sorry, Jisung,” your mother kept apologizing, clearly embarrassed at the mistake.
“No, I-I like basketball too, ma’am,” he tried to reassure her.
“It’s a requirement for being my friend,” Chenle helped him out. “If only I could’ve made it a requirement for being my sister.”
“If we got to pick, I would’ve made not being annoying as fuck a requirement for being my brother,” you retorted.
“Language!” Your mom scolded you, at the same time that your dad warned Chenle to “Be nicer to your sister!”
Your parents were gone again after dinner, leaving in a flurry of hugs, kisses, and promises of celebrating Christmas together properly next year. As soon as he’d shut the door behind them, Chenle turned to you, cynical disbelief on his face already.
“No way,” he chuckled and shook his head. His phone rang then, and he tutted. “Gotta take this. I’ll be in my room if you need me.”
Jisung was already in the living room, and you plopped down next to him on one of the couches, dropping your head into your hands.
“Your parents seem nice,” he said quietly.
“Mhm, they’re really great when they’re here,” you agreed bitterly. “Sort of makes it hurt worse. It’d be easy to just hate them if they left us all the time and changed plans last-minute and were awful when we did see them. But they do all that shit, and then I see them and it’s good. And it makes me start thinking that maybe it’ll be different, maybe they’ll really keep their promises next time.”
“I get that.” He seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. “But maybe this time you just don’t get your hopes up. Might be easier on you.”
“Yeah, probably.”
With a sigh, you sat up, turning into Jisung’s side and snaking your arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around you as you buried your face in his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head. His other hand slowly rubbed your back, encouraging you to relax into his embrace even more.
TUESDAY, DECEMBER 31
The morning of New Year’s Eve, the three of you were sitting around the kitchen table silently eating breakfast scrounged together from various leftovers and the singular grocery store trip you’d taken since Christmas. Then, there was a knock at the front door, and with your cereal spoon sticking out of your mouth, you gave Chenle and Jisung a bewildered look. They, however, didn’t seem put off at all.
“Y/N, can you go see who it is?” Chenle asked you, returning his gaze to his phone screen.
“Are you expecting someone?” You retorted. “You go answer it.”
The knocking came again, more insistent this time.
“Y/N! Just get it!” Chenle demanded loudly.
“Fine! Fine!” You got up, stomping over to the front door.
Opening the solid wood door, your jaw dropped when you saw six figures on the other side, before you were tackled in a hug by the one at the front.
“Surprise!” Sooyoung squealed, nearly squeezing the air out of your lungs.
“Soo!” You gasped, hugging her back. “What are you doing here?”
“We were invited!” Jaemin informed you cheerily, grabbing you for a bear hug next.
“We’d never pass up an invite to a Chenle-Y/N party,” Jeno’s eyes twinkled as he pecked the crown of your head.
“Especially a New Year’s Eve party,” Donghyuck added.
“Since when have we been throwing a New Year’s Eve party?” You spluttered, still in delighted shock as you took in all of your friends standing in your foyer.
Mark hugged you too. “Chenle texted us a couple days before Christmas to see if we could make it for New Year’s.”
You grabbed your roommate’s hand, bewildered the most by her presence. She wasn’t friends with Chenle or any of the other guys standing there, to your knowledge. “But how did you…?”
“Jisung’s idea,” Chenle had joined you all, standing at the threshold of the foyer with the baseball player. “We figured out that Renjun and Sooyoung were in a study group together this semester and…”
You’d spotted Huang Renjun, one of Chenle’s friends from college whom you’d met several times before, hanging back on the fringes of the group. You smiled at him before beelining for Jisung, throwing your arms around his neck and kissing his cheek a couple times in your excitement.
“Thank you!” You were smiling ear to ear, so much that your cheeks hurt, but you couldn’t help it.
“You’re welcome, Y/N.” Jisung returned the hug, rubbing your back. “My late Christmas present to you.”
You let him go to hug your brother next, hooking your chin over his shoulder and squeezing him so tight you felt like your chest might burst, and you hoped he could feel how much all of this—how much he—meant to you. Despite everything you may say or do to each other. “Thanks, Chenle.”
“Of course,” he whispered, hugging you back just as tight.
“SooSoo, I’m serious, not that much has happened!” You promised, laying on your bed to watch as she got settled in your room. She had of course insisted that you filled her in on every details of everything that’s happened between you and Jisung, including things that she had already heard before since you two talked almost every night. “It’s only been like a week, and my brother is literally here.”
“We all saw those little cheek kisses earlier,” she replied pointedly. “You’re at least going to kiss him at midnight, right?”
“Maybe,” you giggled, quite literally kicking your feet as you thought about it. “Onto you—You just spent three hours in a car with them, have you figured out if you want me to set you up with Jeno or Jaemin?”
“We took two cars. I was in Renjun’s with Donghyuck,” she informed you with a desolate sigh.
“Why did you—”
“He offered because he knew I didn’t know anybody except him, and I didn’t know how to explain why I wanted to go in the other one!”
“Foiled once more by empathy and kindness.”
“I’ll figure it out before we go back to school!”
“Maybe you can get one of their numbers on your own before then.”
Despite the reputations that ‘Chenle-Y/N’ parties carried amongst your friends, and your friends also bringing enough alcohol to host a full-blown kegger, the event itself was pretty low-key. You’d gotten the firepit on the back porch going, food ordered, music going throughout the house, and had already completed several different games.
You were fixing yourself a cup of eggnog in the kitchen when you spotted someone out by the firepit. Pouring another mug, you took both out with you. Jisung looked up when he heard the back door open. He smiled as he recognized that it was you, scooting over on the bench to make room for you to sit with him.
“Eggnog?” You offered a cup out to him. “I didn’t spike it, but I can go add something in if you really want.”
“No, this is perfect,” he chuckled, his laughs rising as white wisps in the cold air. “I’ve been thinking…”
“About?”
“Were the three options hot chocolate, cider, and eggnog?”
It took you a second to catch up, but once you had recalled your first night in the mountains, you burst into laughter, nodding. “Yeah, those were the three options when I made you pick a number.”
He smiled, taking a sip of his drink. “There was something else, that I was thinking about.”
“Oh?”
“Are-Are we going to kiss at midnight? Do you want to? I know we haven’t gone on a real date or anything—”
“I do want to kiss you,” you admitted. “Do you?”
He nodded hurriedly. “Yes, god.”
“You still seem… fidgety. We can wait, if you—”
“That’s not it.” He set his cup of eggnog down, and you did as well. “I want to kiss you. I just don’t want the first time I do to be in front of a bunch of our friends.”
You smirked, tilting your head curiously. “Are you asking to practice before?”
He blinked. “I don’t think I was before, but I definitely am now.”
You snickered a little, leaning in and gently touching your lips to his in a feather-light kiss. He let out a small sigh against your lips, one of his hands coming up to cup your cheek and pull you closer, sealing his mouth over yours. Everything was warm, no matter the fire or the cold wind or the thick jacket you were wearing, you were being heated from the inside out.
When Jisung pulled back, he had such a dazzlingly soft smile on his face that you couldn’t help but stare, wanting to burn that image in the back of your eyelids forever. He moved to duck his head shyly, but you grabbed his face.
“I think we might need some more practice before midnight,” you teased, nuzzling your nose with his affectionately.
“Mm, of course,” he agreed humorously, kissing you again. And again, and again, and again.
⇢ 2024 hallmark movie marathon
TAGLIST
@annenakamura @bee-the-loser @lotties-readings @ppddpjdr @reiofsuns2001
@classicroyalty @giirlfriendd @shaqs-oatmeal @sofipolii01
@tearinka @yoursyuno @yutasputa69
@winkeuu
#park jisung x reader#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#bjnet#park jisung imagine#nct dream imagine#nct imagine#nct fluff#jisung x reader#park jisung fluff#jisung fluff#jisung imagine#nct dream fluff#i: jisung#writing#text#mine#f: out of left field#2024hmm#sungie#bias tag#*100#*200
359 notes
·
View notes
Note
So hear me out….pregnant reader with Sevika’s kid. Sevika doting on reader. Bring home a weird craving reader has been having and talking to the baby telling them how excited she is to finally meet them.
I need fluff, I need pregnancy, I need it to be hers naturally.
Thank yooooooooou!
this is so cute i loved writing it! i just know sevika would be a great parent ⸜(。˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡
sevika x pregnant reader headcanons
cw: pregnancy, slight innuendos, mentions of violence, veryyyy slight angst at the start
sevika never saw herself being a parent; not because she doesn’t like kids, it’s the complete opposite - she adores them
she felt it was selfish to want to bring a child into a fucked up world like zaun, full of hardship and uncertain futures
but then one night you tearfully turn to sevika in bed and her mind immediately goes into overdrive, are you hurt? is someone threatening you?
“sevika…i’m pregnant.”
you’re both sent into a still silence, unable to see each other but somehow feeling each other’s shock that much more
you’re worried that she’s upset or even mad at you, you know how she feels about having kids, until she’s gripping onto you with all her might, body shuddering from the force of her tears
sevika spoons you to sleep but she can’t fall asleep since her mind is racing about what this means for the future
she is overjoyed to say the least, albeit worried
from that moment on she dotes on you even more than she ever did, saying she needs to “look after my two favourite people.”
she rarely enjoyed pda but now you’re pregnant with her child, she can’t keep her hands off you - she needs to let everyone know that she’s completely smitten with you and the baby
sevika is constantly rubbing her hands on your baby bump wherever you go - just the sight of you and the baby calms her down
however she’ll only talk to the baby when you’re at home all safe and sound because this is when she admits her innermost fears
you stroke her soft hair as she whispers to the bump about how she’s scared she won’t be able to protect you both; after all, sevika works for the biggest crime lord in zaun and a child only provides more ammunition for enemies to utilise
sevika is also concerned about not being a good enough parent to the child but when you look at her building a crib from scratch, concentration furrowing her dark brows, with buckets of paint surrounding her from all the swatches you requested, you know that her worries couldn’t be further from the truth
every morning and every night, without fail, she kisses your forehead and baby bump as she rambles to you both about how excited she is for the completion of your little family
she dotes on you so much!
if you have a weird craving like pickle juice with sparkling water she’s forcing chuck to drop all his orders and make yours stat
if you’re craving some obscure dish that really shouldn’t exist sevika isn’t even going to question it
she’s in the kitchen whipping it up for you as you’re sat on the counter, humming as she prepares your meal
she does that thing where she puts the plate just in your reach but yanks it back again, laughing at how petulant you get
“what, you’re not gonna kiss the chef first?”
she gives it to you eventually, she could never make you wait for too long, and watches on with a goofy little smile and your lipstick marks all over her face as you contentedly eat the downright atrocious meal she made with love
sevika is always with you; call her overprotective or clingy she doesn’t care, she just doesn’t want to risk anybody hurting you or the baby
you basically get scary dog privileges everywhere you go
if your pregnancy hormones say the annoying store clerk that spoke to you in a condescending tone needs to die then sevika is on it right away
ok not really, she talks you down from your moments of bloodlust but she will deal with anyone that is rude to you
“you think i’m gonna let you get away with being an asshole to my dove, huh?”
lowkey shocked (and equal parts turned on) at how cranky your raging hormones make you 😭
sevika is incredibly attracted to you and your changing body even though you get insecure that she won’t like you anymore because of it
she takes her precious time every day just kissing the new stretch marks that appear and massaging your swollen ankles
you spend your date nights talking about baby names and you two even draw what you think the baby will look like
her drawing mainly consists of your features
your drawing mainly consists of her features
you two are so down bad for each other it’s sickening
silco has to force sevika to take more time off; she’s loyal and deserves to have more downtime with you as you prepare for your baby
he understands what it’s like to have a kid, how stressful it can be so he wants his dearest friend to enjoy the moment as much as possible
speaking of silco, he helps sevika host a surprise baby shower at the last drop and an insane amount of people turn up
you cry when you realise how loved and respected you are in the community
everyone is having the time of their lives playing games like blind diaper changing, who knows mum/dad the best, guess the baby, etc.
no gender reveal though she’s traditional in that regard and wants to wait until the baby’s born to find out
jinx is also very excited about the new arrival in the family
yes, she considers you and sevika to be part of her family and it’s very cute
she gets to be an auntie!
jinx spends all her free time making all sorts of toys out of softer materials because she’s considerate (also sevika warned her not to use scrap metal, or implement sharp edges, or even add teeny tiny smoke bombs - jinx scrapped all of her designs and had to start from scratch), for your baby with her signature graffiti of course
her and sevika probably work together to make some of the furniture for the baby’s room
sevika is very proud when people ask to feel bump
“yeah, this is our kid.” smug grin plastered onto her face and a strong arm wrapped around your midsection
you can’t help but roll your eyes when she does this because at this point who doesn’t know it’s your kid - she spends all day talking about it 😭
all in all sevika is honestly the best mother and wife you could ask for <3
masterlist
#sevika x reader#sevika#arcane#arcane headcanon#sevika fluff#fluff#jinx#silco#pregnant reader#sevika headcanon#request#arcane request#arcane fluff
290 notes
·
View notes
Text
tw: mention of abuse
michael kaiser’s birthday, the twelfth to be precise, marked the first time he ever did something for himself. it’s when his life really began, when he finally started the long path of living for himself instead of just to serve as a punching bag for his piece of shit dad. a day when he became more than just a remnant of everything his mother left behind after she abandoned the small family that she began to build.
and now his twenty first birthday marks a new change in his life too. nine years after the fact. christmas means nothing to kaiser, so it means nothing to you too. kaiser doesn’t like getting gifts, they’re worthless to him. he has enough money, and was never taught how to react. but you are a gift within yourself, maybe the first one that he ever received. he knows he doesn’t know to act with you either, the same sadness he feels when he receives a present from somebody washing over him every time he mistreats you, his best gift. you’re the best thing within the possession of his cold hands and even colder heart; he swears he loves you. he loves you so much, you are everything and nothing all at once, he just can’t help himself.
he never gives himself a rest; after all, holidays are worthless to him. he doesn’t do christmas festivities, maybe he’ll take you to one of the many christmas markets berlin has to offer to get yourself some nice things, a sweet outing. a weak and cowardly apology for all the bad he does to you. he’s a fucking coward, he knows it. he can’t cover your bruises and cracks with cold hard cash forever, but you won’t care, you love him too. that’s the only festivity he doesn’t refuse to participate in. no rest and no breaks - he only has time for practice on christmas.
training in the empty club facility when everyone else is at home with their families, their wives, parents, hell some of his teammates have began building families already. he could never do that though, kaiser is a vindictive man; don’t let any of these words fool you into believing he is anything but evil and manipulative. kaiser knows himself what type of person he is. he knows he’s scum of the earth, but for the most part he simply doesn’t care. one of the very small amount of considerate things he has done is decide to not have children. he doesn’t want to hurt his own child someday, doesn’t want to have you pack up and leave just like his mother. doesn’t want to subject anyone to the torment he grew up with all those years ago. he only thinks he can’t fix all of the bad caused by his brutish nature to you with cash because even after almost a decade of being away from the shithead he’s forced to call his father, he still isn’t fully healed. hell, that’s why he takes it out on you so much. he kicks the ball extra hard at the thought of that. he’s a real piece of work, and if he wasn’t so selfish, he would leave you. it’s best for you anyway.
on the walk home in the snow he ponders hard. he didn’t want kids, so why did he allow himself a girlfriend. kaiser is a selfish man, he’s a really fucking disgusting person (don’t doubt it, seriously) so why is he indulging himself with you? he’s not quite sure himself, he also refuses to acknowledge the warmth that grew and expanded since he met you and passed time with you. he didn’t drive today, the streets are cold and quiet and he likes the alone time. the winter is cold and lonely, a fitting sentiment for him. solitude matches him the best, which again leads to the question, why does he indulge himself in you so much? he’s trudging through the snow on the path, fresh snow. pure white and innocent snow. it reminds him of you. you’re so sweet, pliable, innocent. everything he isn’t. every crunch he hears from under his boots, every piece of dirt he imagines he’s leaving in his trail; it reminds him of you. how he’s so scared to corrupt you. but he only thinks of the negatives and never the positives. stupid micha, doesn’t he realise the snow is still falling? fresh snow covering his tracks, covering the dirt and cleansing all of the bad - of course he doesn’t think of that, this man is so in his head!
stepping into the warmth of his lavish house is liberating. a stark contrast from the cold nonstop nipping at his nose. the man is white as the snow outside, his face probably looks ridiculously red. he lazily kicks off his boots and unzips his coat and tosses it across one of the stools for the kitchen island; you’ll clean it up anyway, you always do.
he glances at your empty cup on the island. it’s cute and pink, like you. you’re so sweet. but he’s a little disheartened, you’re probably asleep already. he glances at the grandiose clock you insisted you had to buy for the kitchen which sits on the wall above a picture of you two sitting next to each other. it’s 11pm, he didn’t realise it was so late. no wonder he’s so worn out. he lazily crosses off the 24th before he trudges upstairs and goes to bed. he smiled a bit when he did, you decorated the 25th with such cute stickers and a big pink heart drawn around it. you’d never forget his birthday, even if he wanted you to oh so desperately. sweet angel that you are.
he strips and flops into bed next to you, feeling your warmth and gentle breathing is enough to lull him to sleep instantaneously. he’ll shower in the morning, he can’t be fucking bothered right now; cut him some slack too, it’s his birthday!
as soon as you hear him snore you jolt up. michael kaiser you will not escape your birthday, you promise him that in your head. missing christmas is a crime in itself that maybe you can let slide (well not really, he always indulges you and lets you put up a few decorations around the house. but you digress.)
you work yourself tirelessly putting up birthday decorations and getting the food you had baked by a pretty expensive baker a few days ago for him, and you also baked him a cake yourself. you’re surprised he didn’t notice the white boxes in the fridge, but honestly christmas season is when he stresses himself out the most with soccer; so it doesn’t surprise you the more you think about it. he must be really tired ‘cause you almost fell down trying to hang up the big ribbon banner at least five times and not once was he awoken by the nuances of the night caused by your sub par decorating abilities.
kaiser is awoken suddenly, and he jolts up confused and (embarrassingly) a bit frightened. but he breathes a sigh of relief when he sees your big eyes in front of his face blinking. he’d be a bit alarmed if it was anyone else but you’ve always been a bit of an odd one, so he just brings his hand up to lightly pet your cheek as he yawns. “morning engel, why are you all up in my face, it’s too early” his voice is really hot after he’s just woken up, you observe. “micha, it’s your birthday” you say in an oh so monotone voice. he knows it’s his birthday, so why are you telling him this?
his question is answered when you throw yourself on the bed out of his face in exhaustion and he sees what you’ve done to your shared room. balloons and a nice happy birthday banner across the wall directly infront of your bed, ribbons everywhere, sweetly wrapped gift boxes and a bowl of his favourite garlic bread rust sitting next to a birthday cake and cupcakes. he’s actually in awe, like, really. he doesn’t know how to react at all. he just looks at your form flopped down on the bed in exhaustion and feels even worse seeing the bruises he’s left on you before, feels even more guilty for all the harsh obscenities he’s shouted at you more times than any normal person would like to admit. he swallows the build up of saliva caught in his mouth he didn’t even realise was there.
“das alles ist für mich...? du hast das getan...?” he swallows again. his throat is so dry, his voice shakes a little. he really can’t believe it. he is showered in love every day by adoring fans and the whole nation of germany. the whole world for that matter, he’s one of the best players of today. he’s a prodigy, a gem, a talent and everything else synonymous to this. yet all the love and adoration thrown at him by all of these people cannot even compare even by a tiny fraction to your love. your adoration. the way you cherish him. he’s so blessed, he never believed in gods before, he believes in the impossible but not those types of things. he’s not a follower he’s a leader, he is the only god. but jesus fucking christ, god has to be real. you must be one of his angels, he swears it. you’re way too fucking good to be true.
you prop yourself up on your elbows to answer him, “ja, who else?” and kaiser’s eyes seriously water, he’s not even the emotional type, but he’s a bit moved. he also tries to uphold that stoic front of his, but man, he’s just so affected by this. in a good way; at least he thinks it’s good. he just can’t hold it anymore and shifts to pin you down to the bed and kiss your face all over. he feels even more bad about the black eye he gave you too. you’re too good for him, you really are. he feels his heart clench a bit; an unknown sensation. he loves you so much, he really does, and he knows he’s so disgusting sometimes and he doesn’t show it, but he promises he does. he shoves his tongue down your throat and grips your wrists so tight they could shatter, but he doesn’t care. he’s so fucking in love with you, you’re so fucking sweet. you’re panting for air and you’re seriously in pain from his rough display of love, but when are you not hurt by this man? you are light and he is dark, you are an angel and he’s the sin of man embodied. you are every single good thing in this universe and he is the complete opposite. you both acknowledge this, and usually he relishes in the dynamic. but he feels so guilty. you’re as sweet as sugar. he’s kissing you so hungrily; as if he wants to eat you.
when he finally pulls away, he’s hovering over you. his hair is so beautiful, he’s so beautiful like this. you have to blow a piece of his hair out of your eye, and he laughs. you’re priceless, you really are. you’re so cute. so special. you’re everything. holidays and birthdays were always foreign to him. he doesn’t care for them at all - or didn’t. he does now, he really fucking does. love does that to you. he’s so glad he took the risk, took a risk of dating you, found someone so angelic. so perfect for him. he can’t help but think about what his 12 year old self would think of this. if he would have even believed he would have someone so loving and compliant by his side ever in his life. believed that he was anything other than a worthless piece of shit.
all the years of pain and longing for a love which he believed could never be bestowed upon a man of his caricature paid off. all the time he (begrudgingly) yearned for love. for a partner. a princess to call his own. the lonely emperor who wanted nothing more than to be treated as if he was someone special and meant something. he’s so emotional, very rare for him. he’s so emotional seeing how much he means to you. how much you’re willing to do. and for the first time in his life, he feels joy on his birthday. “prinzessin, i love you” he leans down to whisper in your ear. and you giggle and kick your legs as much as you can beneath him like a giddy schoolgirl. “love you too micha, you deserve the world”
he doesn’t know how you do it, how you can act like this despite the way he treats you. he knows he’s a manipulative asshole, but he never took the time to care about anything other than himself and maybe you. but now he almost feels sorry. almost feels like his heart could open up into a black hole and swallow him up for doing this to someone so sweet. but he told you before, if you didn’t like this you could just leave (he’d never let that). you also told yourself something, you would fix this man. you’re an empath. a pure soul full of compassion. you’re as broken as he is. maybe that’s why you stayed, why you grew to like the toxicity, why you believed you could fix him. and it’s paying off.
you did get up eventually, to sit on the floor and open the gifts he got from yours truly. you’re in pink panties a pink bra and his jersey, currently getting frosting all over it from a slice of cake he cut for you. isn’t it funny, this jersey would go for thousands on the internet, so many fangirls would kill to be wearing this. and you’re messing it all up. his piece is sitting next to him as he holds a particularly sentimental gift from you in his hands and stares down at it. he doesn’t know how to react. he never did know how to react to gifts. but he wishes you knew how grateful he is for you. so grateful that you stay through all of this.
you do know, you really do.
hours later and his pure unbridled joy is yet to die down. you’re spoon feeding him cake as you’re both sat on the floor laughing. the pains that his birthday brought him are forgotten for now, as are the injuries he inflicted upon you. the holes in the wall he leaves when he’s angry are covered with decorations. the small specks of blood adorning the floor from a particularly nasty nosebleed you had caused by his fist are hidden by the wrapping paper from all of the thoughtful gifts you bought for him. his tattooed hand is on the floor ontop of your smaller one. the crown covering your own. his princess.
michael kaiser was born on christmas, he was a gift his parents neglected. weren’t grateful for. a gift to his parents that they didn’t even realise. a gift to the soccer world. a gift for you. special gift for you. the best gift you could ever receive. so you’ll treat him like that, despite the violence. you are so empathetic to him. so sweet. kaiser deserves the world he really does.
and as he watches you giggle as you feed him cake and eat spoonfuls for yourself too, he realises you’re a gift too. you���re not born on any particularly noticeable holiday the way he is. but your birthday is the biggest celebration in itself. he’s so thankful to whatever god decided to grace the world with your presence and then send you in his direction. his eyes are so soft for once and he wears a small smile. let’s forget about all of the violence and anger, all of the sadness, the shattered and messily glued back pieces of the little boy he truly is for once. let’s just have fun.
he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear as he looks into your eyes so deeply. “you are the best gift i could ever ask for, mein schatz”
#blue lock#blue lock x reader#dark content#bllk x reader#blue lock x y/n#michael kaiser x reader#kaiser x reader#kaiser birthday#Christmas#kaiser angst#blue lock angst
226 notes
·
View notes
Text
NEXT TO YOU ⋆⭒˚.⋆
SYNOPSIS — with billie finally back from tour, you find yourself not wanting to leave her side ever again.
PAIRING — billie eilish x fem!reader
CONTAINS — mostly fluff. homesick billie n lovesick reader <3
WARNINGS — none wow this is maturity
DEAR READER — merry christmas @r7leee :3 this one is for u babe!! keep the fic exchanges going this is sm fun
WORD COUNT — 0.7k, short and sweet :3
the first few weeks with billie gone were tolerable. before she went on tour for her chart-topping album 'hit me hard and soft', she mentioned to you that it would be a long time. begrudgingly, you replied that you could survive without her.
but on the last week she'd been gone, you were starting to second guess yourself.
it was the day she was flying back into los angeles and you swore you were pacing the rooms of your apartment, checking your phone at least every two minutes, waiting presumably for hours for a text from your girlfriend to say that her flight landed.
you tried everything to pass time—watched your favorite movies, did some baking, deep cleaned the entire apartment and even made a few new playlists, but nothing was taking your mind off of her and it seemed like no matter what you did, time was only extending.
while you were on your phone, scrolling away on the couch, you saw a notification pop down from the top of your screen. it was a text from billie. you clicked on it immediately, surprising even yourself with your quick reaction timing.
plane just landed :) can't wait to see you, darling
you replied back, omw right now, i miss you
you shot up instantly from the couch and ran to your front door, sliding on your shoes in a perfunctory manner and making a beeline to your car. the drive to the airport was around half an hour but you were anxious the entire time, not to mention excited. you hadn't seen billie in what felt like forever, and you couldn't wait to be in her arms again.
you messaged again when you parked the car, and she told you what section was in. you waited impatiently for her to come down the walkway and meet you. your leg was bouncing uncontrollably as you gazed down that hallway. she would be walk down there any minute.
after what seemed like lightyears worth of time, you glanced up from your phone that you became once again preoccupied with, and saw billie's figure walking your way in the distance.
your phone was long forgotten, along with your earbuds and whatever other belongings you brought with you, because you were up instantly and running down the building to billie. your legs sprinted her way, and billie's suitcases and bags were additionally left behind as she ran straight to you.
your bodies collided in a tight hug, your arms up around her neck and hers around your abdomen. you couldn't help but tear up into her shoulder as you held each other.
"billie, it's been so long.." you whisper-sobbed against her hoodie fabric. the scent embedded into it was what you longed for and missed all this time, it felt so surreal to have it again.
she giggled against you, though it still sounded like she was going to break into tears. "i told you it would be, babe," she teased.
"oh, shut up.."
billie's grip on you only tightened. she never admitted it, but she missed you just as much as you missed her, if not more.
she suddenly pulled away from you and when you lifted your head from her shoulder—your face coated in tears—she pressed a long, deep kiss into your lips. that action alone was enough to convey all her longing and love for you, even just as a reminder.
once billie decided she was done, she cupped both of your cheeks with her hands and rubbed some of the tears away from your eyes with her thumbs. "aww, my love.." she mumbled as her own eyes teared up more. she began to pepper small kisses all over your face, not even caring if anyone was watching the show of pda. she kissed your tears away gently, as if dedicating her love to each kiss.
your hands took her own face and brought her lips back to yours. the kiss was short but deep, filled with all your passion for her.
"wanna be next to you forever, baby," you mumbled against her lips, your thumbs subconsciously rubbing her face.
"i guess i could do with that," she replied, teasingly acting like she didn't want to.
you giggled and kissed her one last time for the time being. "you're such an idiot."
if u enjoyed, please feel free to like, reblog, or leave a comment! only kind comments and actual constructive criticism will be tolerated <3
check out my masterlist for more!
© liseytopia 2024: do not copy, translate, or steal my work.
#lisey's fics .ᐟ#billie eilish#billie eilish x reader#billie eilish x you#billie eilish x y/n#billie eilish x female reader#billie eilish imagine#billie eilish fanfiction#billie eilish fic#billie eilish fluff#fluff
290 notes
·
View notes
Text
A FRESH START 𓂃 𓈒 ❀
synopsis — after leaving wakanda, bucky starts to rediscover who he is while living with you, slowly bulding a new life. his dispair deepens and you offer him a fresh start with a simple act: cutting his hair.
angst. fluff
—you have to stop thinking that every time something good is happening to you it's because something worse is on the way. that´s not a way to live, buck —. you said softly, your voice steady but with a hint of concern.
bucky shook his head, running a hand over his face as a sign of desperation. if only he could remember what life felt like before hydra took him, before all those wasted years. after so long he was still trying to figure it out, still trying to find a version of himself that didn’t feel like a stranger. trying to get used to his new life in the city, far from the peace he had known in wakanda. all these sudden changes only made him more confused and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to adjust, it was that he didn’t know how.
it had been a almost a year since bucky had moved in with you, since you had defeated thanos and steve had left. when the dora milaje declared him ready to live a normal life, bucky stood there, unsure of what that even meant. he had no place to go. louisiana crossed his mind for a moment, sam had always extended an open invitation but the thought of intruding on sam’s family life stopped him, and steve was gone, something he chose not to think much about, so for the first time in over a century, bucky was truly on his own.
except he wasn’t. you were there.
when you found out he needed a place, you didn’t think about it twice. he resisted at first. ayo told him you were the right person to star building his new life. you trust her, you trust her more than you admit. that is where you begin. trust. she is the right person to help you build this new life, james.
and he couldn't remember what you two had shared before hydra took him, before everything fell apart but there was a pull. by the things steve told him, you three were best friends once, inseparable. he spoke of nights you spent laughing, of how he’d head home early, leaving you and bucky behind, knowing that bucky would arrive later, with a big smile on his lips. steve chuckled when he mentioned your lipstick, smeared on bucky’s mouth when he finally made it back. you never wiped it off, you wore it like a badge of honor.
bucky tried to imagine it, those moments of joy but the memories never came. but he could still feel it. he felt it that day in wakanda, when you arrived with steve and natasha to fight thanos. you smiled at him, just a brief moment in the chaos, but it stayed with him. there was something so familiar about that smile, something warm and he felt it too every time you visited him or sent him what had once been his favorite sweets, little reminders of a life he no longer remembered but somehow still carried with him.
so, he showed up at your door a few days later, a bag hung over his shoulder and a sad look in his eyes. he didn't try to argue this time. —you sure about this?
you didn’t hesitate. —absolutely.
living with bucky was easy. he was quiet, he didn't need much space. after months, he started making it his place too, little by little. he left his shoes by the door beside yours, the book he picked up from one of your shelves appeared on the coffee table, his leather jacket draped over the back of a chair.
—it's not that easy —. he murmured, his voice heavy with exhaustion.
you watched him. —i know it’s not, —you said softly, stepping closer to him. —but you don’t have to do it all at once. no one expects that from you.
he shook his head again. —feels like they do, —he said, his blue eyes looking directly into yours. you could see the sadness and the guilt of the moments he couldn’t take back. —feels like every time i mess up, it’s just proof that i don’t belong here. as if this life was not made for me —his voice was low, barely more than a murmur. —what if the only thing i'm good at is killing?
you took a deep breath. it was hard to hear him say that, to see the man you’d known before hydra, who was your best friend and the love of your life, now drowning in self-doubt and guilt. —you’re more than what they made you.
—am i? because that’s all i’ve ever done. all i know how to do.
—but it’s not who you are, it’s what they forced you to be. the fact that you’re even asking this? that you’re fighting to be someone better? that’s proof enough that that wasn't you at all.
he closed his eyes tightly and ran his hands through the long strands of his hair. for a moment, you just stood there, watching him. you wanted to pull him back from whatever dark place his thoughts had taken him, but you hesitated, ayo told you to do so, to let him space to feel this, to fight against it, even if it hurt.
—i can still feel him inside my head, i can hear his thoughts. he's not gone.
bucky’s fingers suddenly grabbed the roots of his hair with a little more force. his breathing grew faster, his hands shook and his eyes squeezed shut. you couldn't see how deep his pain was and not do anything to stop him from hurting himself.
you stepped closer. —bucky, hey… —your hands sneaked into his hair, softly pulling his grip from his scalp. his hands were trembling, and for a moment, there was resistance in him like he wasn’t sure he wanted to let go of the only thing he could hold onto. but your touch was soft, familiar and something shifted, almost imperceptible, but you could feel the tension in him loosen.
—the bucky i knew isn’t gone. he’s still in there. i see him every time you fight for something good, every time you try to make amends, every time you care about the people around you, about me.
his shoulders fell, and his head hung low, he didn’t want you to see him like this, weak and broken. but you had seen him in his darkest moments as the winter soldier and you had experienced thanos taking him away from you with the blip. the years without him had been a painful, you thought you lost him forever. yet there he was, standing before you, alive, and you weren’t about to let him go again.
your hands gently moved to push the back of his head, guiding him to rest his forehead on your shoulder. he was still a bit unsure about how to handle this type of physical contact, used to years of torture, where touch always meant pain, control, or something to fear. now you held him close to your body, his arms hanging limply at his sides.
—why don’t i cut your hair?
—cut my hair?
—yeah, it´ll help you to see yourself in a different way. a fresh start.
bucky pulled back a little, he wasn’t sure if you were joking. —you think cutting my hair will fix everything?
you smiled softly, you wished it could be that easy. —no, —you admitted. —but ayo told your new life will be built on small things.
bucky sighed.
the idea of letting go parts of himself that tied him to the winter soldier felt like a whole world. first, it was his metal arm, the one with the red star, when tony ripped it off of him, bucky felt relieved, like tony was cutting one of the heads of the hydra to end the monster. in wakanda, he learned to live using only his flesh-and-blood arm until they gave him a new one which he only intended to use for good.
and now you were asking to cut his hair.
—ayo did say that, didn’t she? —he murmured, almost to himself.
—she’s a smart woman and besides, it’s just a haircut. if you hate it, it’ll grow back.
a small smile appeared in his lips. —if it ends up bad, i’m blaming you.
you took a chair from the kitchen to the bathroom and he sat down in front of the mirror. bucky stared at his reflection as he pressed his lips into a thin line and sighed. he didn't like mirrors, he avoided them as much as he could. he didn't like the person staring back at him, he didn't know who that man was and now sitting on that chair there was no escape.
there was a difference this time. next to one of the things he most hated to look at—his reflection—was one of the things he liked the most to look at—you.
his blue eyes moved from his reflection to yours. you stood behind him and ran your hands gently through his hair. he felt that familiar tickle in his stomach, the one he first felt almost a century ago and that, even after all the years, it hadn't gone away.
he felt it every morning when you entered the kitchen, hair a mess from sleep, mumbling a soft “good morning” to him. he felt it when he came home in the evenings and dinner was ready and you were sitting at the table, waiting for him. he felt it most when you would fell asleep on the couch and he had to carry you to your bed, careful not to wake you. and you'd ask him in your sleep to stay, and he'd freeze, he wanted to say yes, he wanted to stay. but he couldn’t risk it, his nightmares were still too real. so bucky would gently place you in your bed, making sure you were well tucked in, and whisper, i’ll be in my room, if you need anything.
—are you ready? —you asked him, bringing him back from his thoughts. you already had the scissors in your hand and bucky shifted in the chair at the sight of them. —it'll be okay, buck.
—feels like more than just a haircut.
you nodded, understanding. —well, that's what we wanted, isn't it?
bucky swallowed and nodded.
—why don't you close your eyes? i'll let you know when i'm done.
with a deep breath, he did as you said. your lips curved into a small smile even though he could no longer see you. you were aware of all the progress he had made. you knew he trusted you with his heart because on no other occasion he would willingly keep his eyes closed with someone standing behind him, scissors in hand and when your hands rested on his shoulders, he hadn’t flinched at the contact.
—okay, i'll start.
with his eyes closed it was much easier to feel the delicacy with which you treated him. the way your fingers combed through his scalp and then the sound of the scissors, followed by the sensation of the strands falling and taking with them the weight he had carried for so long. and you talked, about anything that crossed your mid so he did not feel that he was in danger or he had to be alert at any time.
—maybe we could get a cat, —you said. —i think it’d be nice. do you think you’d be a good cat parent?
—maybe —. he said after a pause. —i definitely prefer a cat to a dog.
you switched to the clippers, you left the hair at the top of his head a little longer, while the rest of it was cut shorter. a very chic haircut for someone born in 1917. you carefully checked that his hair was even and then you styled it with your fingers.
—okay, i'm done, you can open your eyes.
bucky hesitated for a moment, then opened his eyes. your breath caught in surprise as you watched him take in the sight of himself. it was like having the bucky you once knew staring right at you through the mirror. his features were the same, just a bit more more defined and mature.
he felt the same relief as when tony ripped off the metal arm that hydra embedded in his body, like a part of him that had once been used against him, now freed. he turned his head slowly to both sides to get a better look and to be honest, he liked his new look. physically, he could see the resemblance to the man in the photos you had shown him, the young soldier who smiled to you, in love.
—how do you feel? i think it suits you —. you asked gently.
bucky nodded. —i like it —. he caught your gaze in the mirror. the eye contact was so intense that you had to look away. you cleared your throat, hoping to ease the tension, but the heat rising to your cheeks betrayed you.
—alright, come on, —you tapped his shoulder for him to stand up. — i'm going to sweep your hair off the floor.
bucky got up from the chair and turned his head to look at you, not through the mirror this time, but directly, and the sudden closeness made your breath hitch. —thank you for doing this.
—you don't need to thank me, buck. i'm glad it turned out well, it was my first time doing it.
—you sure about that? —he asked—it doesn’t feel like it was your first time.
you laughed, still avoiding his gaze. —guess we got lucky, then.
there was a silence; you were both too close, but not close enough yet. bucky’s eyes moved to your lips for just a fraction of a second, but it was enough to make your heart race. you could both feel the tension, an invisible string pulling you toward each other, daring one of you to close the gap. you didn’t want to take the first step, you didn’t want to push him into something he wasn’t ready for, the last thing you wanted was to break the fragile trust he’d built with you.
you opened your mouth to say something but he talked first.
—can i kiss you? —his voice was low, almost shy.
you were surprised because you didn't expected him to ask so directly, but consent was so important to him. he spent too many years under someone else’s control, forced into actions that weren’t his own, and now he was determined never to cross those lines. it wasn’t just about asking to kiss you, it was about making sure that you were comfortable, that you wanted this just as much as he did.
—yeah, —you whispered —you can.
bucky stepped closer, his flesh-and-blood hand reaching to cup your cheek, his fingers gently brushing against your skin. he leaned in, his movements careful, giving you every chance to pull away. but you didn’t. you leaned into him instead, your lips finally meeting his.
he felt strange. he had wanted to kiss you for what felt like forever, and now that he had, he wasn’t sure what to do next. his mind raced, trying to remember how this was supposed to go. he forgot about kissing, forgot about the rhythm of it, the give and take. his hand slipped from your cheek to fall awkwardly at his side as he pulled away from your lips just enough just to say:
—i don't... i don't remember how to do this.
—it's okay. you're doing just fine. there’s no right or wrong way. just… follow me.
this time, when your lips met, you moved slowly, guiding him. his tension disappeared as he mirrored your movements, his right hand returned to your cheek, the other, his metal one, moved to hold your hips. it wasn’t perfect, the movements of his lips were still hesitant, but there was something honest about the way he kissed you.
as he kissed you, bucky became more aware of his body and where his hands were and realized that his metal hand was resting lightly on your waist. he pulled the hand away quickly. —i'm sorry, i didn't mean to...
you shook your head, one of your hands flew to the back of his neck to connect your lips while your other one grabbed his vibranium arm and guided his hand to where it was before. as the kiss deepened, you felt him relax, stop worrying about whether he was doing it right or wrong, about the touch of his cold hand on your skin, and he just kissed you.
you hummed before parting ways. his cheeks were flushed, his lips were a bit swollen and glossy, his breathing a little uneven and you couldn't help a little laugh from escaping your lips.
—okay, now you're just laughing at me.
—you're so cute, buck.
#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fluff#bucky barnes angst#bucky barnes smut#bucky#james buchanan barnes#bucky smut#bucky fluff#bucky angst#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x y/n#bucky barnes x f!reader#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes fan fiction#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x reader#bucky x you#sebastian stan#marvel#the winter soldier#winter soldier#winter soldier x you#marvel smut#marvel fluff#marvel angst#tfatws#tfatws bucky#winter solider x reader#sebastian stan fluff
197 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stat vindicta potens | emperor geta x reader.
word count | 2.4k
warnings | 18+, NSFW, concubines, demeaning terms, dark themes (dubious consent, violence, blood, mentions of war), porn with too much plot, unbeta'd.
Based on the poem "In Rufinum" by Claudian, book one, lines 44-49.
synopsis | When the twin Emperors had entered the room—filled with musicians and dancers and food you had dared not touch—you had stood as rigid as stone. It had been the same visceral feeling as when you had first seen the Romans approach your home: a deep, clawing desire not to be seen.
Except now, you had to be seen. You were part of the spectacle.
gifs found online.
Stat vindicta potens, et adhuc crudelibus ausis respondet poena.
[Vengeance stands powerful, and still punishment answers to cruel deeds]
There had been no pain.
No.
There had been pain—so much that it constricted your lungs and scratched your throat—but not enough time to feel it.
Once, your father had praised the gods for his wealth, a fortune earned through the trade of fine goods; he had adorned you with corals and pearls, a living testament to his success.
Still adorned with the rich jewels he bought, you had walked into Rome wearing a stola stained with his blood.
You had thought an Emperor would choose his gifts himself—or rather, you had never thought about it at all, not until it was you who had been chosen.
It was a strange way to begin a new life: not through the predictable choices of your father, but through the whims of strangers in a far-off land. Your brothers, dead in battle, had been of no use to you as their wealth crumbled and the last of their possessions were taken. General Acacius had claimed what little was left—and he had gifted you to the Emperors.
A token of friendship.
A spoil of war.
Tuis nec parcitur umbris.
[Your shadows are not spared.]
Another servant had dressed you in a woolen tunic and had styled your hair.
You would have learn to do it yourself in time, she had warned, but first they had to gauge your worth — after all, there would no point in teaching anything to a gift that had no use.
"What should I do?" you had asked her.
"Serve wine”.
Dread had filled your loins as soon as you had set your eyes upon the imperial palatium. Shining in the sun, the marble stairs had welcomed you—not like the arms of a mother, but like the open doors of an adorned crypt.
It was then that you had come to understand another truth: General Acacius had been nothing more than a weapon wielded by others. When a sword cuts through your flesh, it’s not the blade you fear, but the pair of hands that guide it.
"How?" you had asked again, but she refused to answer.
Non impune feres: seris venit aspera pœnis retributio.
[You will not bear it unpunished: a harsh retribution for your crimes will come in time.]
When the twin Emperors had entered the room—filled with musicians and dancers and food you had dared not touch—you had stood as rigid as stone. It had been the same visceral feeling as when you had first seen the Romans approach your home: a deep, clawing desire not to be seen.
Except now, you had to be seen. You were part of the spectacle.
You had served wine before—to your father, your brothers and their guests. You had poured before the same kind of deep red wine: but the hands that had to do it now had changed, and the weight of the eyes on you had pressed harder.
You had approached your captors carefully, your gaze lowered in deference—but unseen, as they had sat on their adorned thrones, draped in robes of golds and reds, without sparing you a glance.
At the time, you had not known how to tell them apart; both could have been either Geta or Caracalla, as their names had meant nothing to the terror they equally inspired.
The first you poured wine to had ignored the cup, his attention fixed on the man seated to his left. Once, you might have sneered at the lack of a compliment - now, the gift of being nothing to him had washed over you like fresh air (but still stung like a silent mockery). To the man, it had been as though the wine had fallen into his goblet by the gods’ will alone.
Then, you had moved on to his brother — and instead his gaze had lingered, sharp and unwavering.
"Is there a trick to it?" he had mused, his voice low, almost to himself. You had frozen in place, as still as the statues scattered around the room. For a moment, you had almost believed the Emperor had been asking you how to pour wine — and your gaze had flicked upward, an instinctive mistake.
His face had surprised you: it was not an imposing man who owned you, not a fierce general or a quiet sage — but a rabid dog, sick and weak in his silks. His eyes, red-rimmed and glazed with white, remained unseeing.
"How does one keep something" he had murmured, "when it feels as if it may slip away at any moment?".
But yet again, it had not been you he had been asking. Was it treason to leave an emperor’s question unanswered, when he posed it to the air?
And then, through the suffocating fear, a streak of something darker had twisted in your chest—rage, hot and sudden. You had had men and women alike ingratiating themselves to you, hoping for nought but a smile: and now an ill animal, with his teeth stained in gold and spit and blood, could bite your neck and move on without a thought.
You had measured your words, then. "As the poet says, fortune is like the winds: fickle, but a friend to those who know how to steer."
And if he had truly understood the meaning of your words—that you did not think him a steerer, not a good one—you could have signed your death with feigned servitude.
But the Emperor (Caracalla, as you would learn later) had just blinked and chuckled. Shrill and sharp, it had not been a laugh born of humor, but something else: as if he had found mirth in you speaking at all, not a thought spared to the words you had used.
He had then drunk from his goblet as if nothing had happened—and yet, seated next to him, his brother had heard and not laughed.
Emperor Geta’s gaze had lingered on you: no amusement in his eyes, no warmth.
Fatis pendebis, ficta modestia.
[You will hang by fate, with feigned modesty.]
You once thought an Emperor would choose his gifts himself—and that’s what Geta did with you.
No hope for burning passions, no overwhelming closeness: this time someone thought it fit to have you learn about your role, because a concubine must please more than a servant.
“You’re less talkative than before”.
Emperor Geta lounges on his lectus, cushions surrounding him. In the soft light filtering through the curtains, his ginger curls seem molten gold—a physical extension of his crown, a birthright to power.
Your started your private encounter like you had started the first: not draped in a rough wooden tunic, but still pouring wine into his cup.
You spent more than one night wondering what had caught his attention, and how he must have heard your exchange with his brother: and whether it was the words he understood, or the venom laced in them, the result still has you in his bedchambers.
“I don’t want to spill a drop” you lie.
He observes you pouring his wine as if it were a religious rite. You try not to care: you pour and pour —and by the time the cup is full, you have emptied your head of all the thoughts and the dread that filled you.
“You won’t” he says. It’s endearing, almost like a compliment, but not quite. “Drink with me.”
He’s not asking.
Drinking in front of him (taking a quick gulp that barely registers the taste) feels as much a part of the ritual as the wine he offers: a play to show you what he can give you, should you continue to play his game.
"How does it taste?”. Geta's voice is as soft as a caress: it’s unsettling, how sweet he is choosing to be.
You stare down at the large goblet you just filled with thick, red liquid: wine, herbs, and honey—the kind you would have enjoyed in another life. "It's great."
"Only the best for us" he says—and you know, by instinct alone, that us means him and his brother. The remark almost makes you raise your goblet in a toast, but you fear it might come across as mocking. All the rage that Caracalla ignited in you, Geta suppresses with dread.
He watches you as you pass the goblet back, because he is always watching.
Your eyes, your chest, your hands. You know you barely look like your old self now—before purple silks and face paints and ornati crines. A shiver escapes you: if you had thought of his brother as a rabid dog, you don’t know how to describe the quiet madness behind Geta’s gaze.
A predatory smile twists his lips, the kind that reveals his teeth and narrows his eyes with a hint of delight. You try not to let any old rage show on your face, knowing he would easily pick it up—but every pass of his eyes screams satisfaction.
His head cocks to the side as he regards you. “Your lips are stained" he observes instead.
When he rises from the lectus, his movements are deliberate. Even in the privacy of his own rooms, servants dismissed and gone, he still carries himself as if an audience is present—so much so, you wonder what kind of untold he feels the need to hide in the presence of a concubine.
Emperor Geta pauses before you, and you let him taste the flavor of the wine off your lips. His kiss is almost too sweet—and his command comes next.
“Undress me”.
Someone must have started the task, for he wears only a linen tunic; a servant must have helped him with that, while others lit the incense that now thickens the air in the room. It's an oily smell, suffocating—mixing poorly with whatever herbs had been added to the rich wine.
“As you wish, domine”. The term makes his eyes roll toward the drapes above your heads.
You know some concubines call Caracalla Carus as an endearing term. A bold young man had boasted to you how he called him regina once —going into detail about how much the Emperor liked it, though few had believed him.
You dare not try the same with his twin.
After the tunic falls to the ground with a soft thud, you let Geta guide you to sit on his bed. You let him undo the braids in your hair and take your own tunic off your shoulders; the multitude of bracelets and anklets he had his servants put on you stay on.
He does not turn you to face him when lays you down on the bed, as your own nails dig into your palms and his head bows low into your hair.
You don't say no. You could not say no if you wanted to.
So when your knees are firm on the mattress, and you feel his weight behind you, you take the small liberty of parting your own legs. If he appreciates the gesture, he does not say: with a palm he pushes on your back until your bare chest is touching the linens, his hand sliding slowly back to your hips.
It is not the first time you’ve lain with a man — a stain on your pudicitia that your father would have abhorred, and one that Geta does not even question.
Your sigh is one of relief when you feel him push into you, because this is what you have been waiting for since you had been brought to his bedchambers: not the his little scene with the wine, not his feigned sweetness, not his long stares.
“I suppose that’s all what you wanted” he grunts, his lips caressing your collarbone. His hips trusts into you so hard that the anklets on your legs clash against each other, creating a soft and clinking sound.
Tink-tink-tink. You don’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.
The soft kisses he peppers behind your neck are nothing like the way he thrusts into you. As he moves you grip the pillows, the linens, your own arms—whatever you can find to steady yourself.
"This is what you wanted" he continues, his deep breaths coming out fast. “When he gifted you to us”.
Faster, he's going faster. The meaning of his words is not lost on you: that he may have taken your hatred for lust, your insult for a praise. That if Caracalla had shown the same interest he would have left you to him —because you were equally one’s and the other’s.
But Caracalla hadn’t cared for a servant and her poets; and his twin was not one to let a good gift go to waste.
Your thighs squeeze around him —and even if you command yourself not to say a word, it’s like the small yes escapes on its own. Let him believe whatever he wants; let him give you thought and purpose, as long as he keeps moving.
He growls his approval — and then he throws himself to the pillows that had been your anchor up until that moment, and pulls you on top of him.
At this angle and lighting, he looks divine.
Everything about him turns to gold under the sunlight: it serve to remind you of what he is, and what his people allow him to do. You loathe how much you admire the view as you sink down onto him, cataloging all the ways the muscles in his face shift when he is lost in pleasure.
“You were such a good gift to us”.
Your skin crawls at the praise and you push up on his chest, bringing your hips down quicker and quicker ad quicker.
The lingering presence of Caracalla in the rooms — even if only through the us Geta keeps referring to—ignites you, and you are furious once again. The heat of it washes over your naked skin, waking you up from your subservient slumber.
You feel Geta twitch within you as you slam into his hips one final time, his fingers sinking deep into your hips. You cherish that feeling: it’s sobering, for it means tomorrow you will still be alive—not as a servant but something more, the future the three Fates have woven for you clearer and clearer.
As he comes and grunts, your thoughts wander.
Geta on his knees, his throat slit. Blood gushing from him, as dark as the wine he had you taste.
Geta scared: you over him, not as an object of pleasure, but as the extension of Nemesis herself.
Geta powerless.
Geta defeated.
Geta enslaved—and it’s with that last thought, with that image, that you come.
Quis dabit exitio tantos, scelerate, triumphos?
[Who will give such triumphs for your destruction, wicked one?]
#emperor geta#emperor geta x reader#emperor geta x you#geta x reader#geta x you#geta imagine#gladiator ii fanfiction
155 notes
·
View notes
Text
Request: So I have a naughty or nice thingy with Top sevika x brat reader where the reader is teasing her and sevika decides whether you are naughty or nice. maybe a little prey predator kink chase and if readers caught shes fucked ... 10/10 if G!p.
———
Naughty or Nice?
Mentions of G!P, spanking, brat fem!Reader getting punished
G!P Sevika x Fem!Reader
Of course you and Sevika were spending Christmas eve at the Last Drop. You couldn’t say no to her idea even though you preferred a more cozy evening with your girlfriend together. But well…Sevika just loved hanging out there and spending time with her is always beautiful no matter where.
So like every evening Sevika was gambling and drinking and you sat beside her, not into that kind of game she played but you watched and drinked your own drink.
A few hours passed and you began to feel really bored. And this boredom will make you be in trouble later.
Your hand moved to her thigh under the table, gently caressing her as you rest your head against Sevika‘s shoulder, you can feel her side eyeing you but that didn’t stop you. You continued, your hand slowly reaching to her inner thighs near her crotch and you can feel her shift a little, a grumble leaving her lips. „Baby…stop that.“ She said after exhaling her smoke, focused on her cards. „But I am not doing anything…focus on your game before the guys you playin with will notice.“ You said, hand brushing over her crotch and then going back to her thigh again, making Sevika get clearly nervous. „Ugh…I told you to stop.“
„What’s going on? Is your girlfriend distracting you?“ One of the guys playing with her mocked her with a disgusting grin, making Sevika roll her eyes. „At least I have a girlfriend.“ She mocked him back, making him look down at his cards again with a grunt. You already knew your teasing will have consequences but you didn’t care.
Later at home you walked happily in your living room, seeing Sevika sitting on the couch as she looked at you with a raised eyebrow. „So? What was that before?“ She asked you and you played innocent, straddling her lap. „I don’t know what you mean. Everything was fine, you won.“ You chuckled, leaning down to her, your lips almost touched but you didn’t kiss her, you wanted to let her chase for what she wanted. „And by the way…its a beautiful day today. Tomorrow is Christmas!“ You cheered, leaning back as you placed a christmas hat on Sevika, chuckling at the sight of her looking at you confused. She definitely expected a kiss and not that. Her strong hand grabbing your hip as her patience got thinner, a grin on her face. „So?? I guess Santa has to decide now if you have been naughty or nice.“ She said with a more lustful low voice, making you shiver but you didn’t give in that fast.
Well…you jumped off her lap, with a wide grin, it happened so sudden she didn’t have time to process it and keep you right where you were. „Then you need to get me first.“ You stuck out your tongue before running away, making her follow you. You expected her to stay there in confusion but she was close behind you as you stood in the bedroom, chuckling to yourself. Your breath hitched as you felt hers on your neck before she whispered into your ear. „A prey should never run from a predator…it makes it only more exciting to catch you.“
You turn around in shock, not expecting that at all but you didn’t show her that you were surprised. „Is that so?“ You kept with your teasing before Sevika pushed you, making you fall on the bed, your back hitting the mattress as you whined softly, more with excitement. „Hnn…I guess you catched me here…poor me.“
You watched as she unbuckled her pants, exposing her hard member in front of you which drove you already crazy, making it only better when she hovers over you, both her hands, human and mechanic one resting beside your head. „You have been very very naughty…I think you need a lesson.“ She purred out, clearly not being able anymore to hold back as she closed the gap between you two, kissing you deeply meanwhile her hands move down to take off your pants and panties, revealing your excitement towards her as she pulled back, looking at your lustful expression, she knew she had you and you only wondered how she could look this cute and hot at the same time, not sure if she still knows about the Christmas hat but you didn’t mention it, finally wanting her to punish you for being so naughty.
„You think you will just get what you want so badly after being this bad? Come on, don’t be silly. Turn around.“ She commanded, knowing you loved looking at her during sex but that she won’t give you today. „What if I don’t want to?“ You got back to your previous behavior, making her sigh before she made you turn, Sevika was so much stronger you had no chance. In seconds you were on all fours, ass up for her. „I gave you a chance, you won’t get a second chance.“
You felt her hand squeezing your ass before spanking it, making you whine in response and grab the bed sheets under you. „Fuck!…“ You didn’t think she would really punish you but Sevika made sure you will remember this night very well. After a few more spanks, your legs were already shaking from the good pain, your ass cheeks being all red. „That’s a good girl…now you deserve a little more.“ She cooed, moving her arm around you to reach your dripping pussy, running her fingers gently along your wet folds and plays a little bit with your clit, making you squirm. „F-Fuck me already…“ You mumbled with a little whine, removing her fingers as she shoved them into your mouth, letting you suck her fingers and taste yourself on them, making you moan. „What was that?“ She asked, removing her finger from your mouth before giving your ass another slap, gaining another whine from you. „F-fuck me already! Please…“ You couldn’t take it anymore so you obeyed and that made Sevika smirk, having you right there where she wanted you.
Finally she moved her cock inside if you, beginning to thrust into you as she held your hips, keeping you in place. Both of you ending up being a moaning mess, the way she went so deep into you making you feel every inch of her, it was just driving you almost over the edge, you secretly wanted this all evening and finally you got it.
Her movements became harder and faster, making you reach your orgasm with her deep thrusts, your legs shaking as you lift up your feet, her cumming right after you as she felt you clench around her cock, of course not pulling out, she wanted to fill you up with everything she had, her grip getting tighter on you as she came, probably leaving marks there. „Ughh! Fuck! Good girl…“ She moaned out and that was everything you wanted to hear.
After you ride out your orgasm, she pulled out, watching a little of her cum dripping out of you before you collapsed in the bed, panting heavily.
Sevika made sure to keep you close in her arms until you fully calmed down, placing a kiss on your lips. „Good girl…you were so nice for me…“
#x reader#fanfiction#female reader#x fem!reader#short imagine#arcane#arcane fanfic#sevika x you#sevika x y/n#sevika x female reader#sevika x reader#sevika arcane#sevika#sevika smut#smut scenarios
185 notes
·
View notes
Text
Mouthwashing Characters Headcanon
Christmas Day with You
Captain Curly
You and him baking sugar cookies in matching aprons? Peak domestic fluff His apron said "Sugar Daddy," and yours? "Daddy’s Sugary Snacc"
Yeah, that was all his idea. He couldn’t stop showing them off, grinning ear to ear, parading them around Walmart like it was a fashion show.
Meanwhile, you were just trying to hunt down all the ingredients in peace, but nope, he had to follow you around, flaunting those aprons.
After a war of flours, you successfully conjured up a decent batch
You had to use actual physical restraint to stop him from adding Vegemite to the cookies. The audacity. And when he ate one, took a full spoonful of it, and moaned?? Yeah, a monster
He’s obsessed with ski or any snow sport video game and always teases you for being a noob. But it’s all in good fun—he’s learned his lesson after the Mario Kart Incident that shall never be mentioned again
"Sweetheart, you’re gonna twist your joint with that posture—"
"Hush! You just wanna win gold again. Stop tempting me, you tall, handsome, bulky-ass demon"
Naturally, your competitive streak kicked in and, somehow, you ended up twisting your ankle
He played the role of nurse, cold compress in hand, sneaking kisses to your ankle because “it speeds up healing” (and also because he’s a shameless flirt who’ll use any excuse to be touchy)
You both gave up on the active stuff and just settled in for a holiday romcom. Of course, you both passed out halfway through
Nurse Anya
You made sure the fireplace was stacked to the brim with firewood because Anya + cozy fire = Christmas must
Your tradition? Her reading a book with her legs propped up on your thighs while you either watch your favorite YouTube videos or game
She’d be all serious about the book, but every now and then, she’d peek over at your screen, giggling at your reactions, but pretending like she was still super into the book
"What did he even trip on? Hell no, he deserved more than just getting skinned alive"
“Y/N, sweetie, natural selection. The weak always get eliminated”
"Mmm, makes sense"
When the clock hit a certain hour, it was handwritten letter time. Instead of gifts, you both wrote love letters to each other. This started when she told you how she re-read your first love letter whenever she got stuck on months long of hauls as a crew nurse
"Yeah, sorry, Anya. No letter this year"
"What? Bu—"
"Because you’re not getting back on that claustrophobic flying submarine this time"
Knowing how much she wanted to enter med school, you gave her the ultimate gift: fully paid tuition for a six-month medicine review center. You’d worked all year for it, and seeing her reaction made every second of it worth it
It was the first time you saw her cry. Anya, who’s always calm and composed, was sobbing in your arms, and it just wrecked you with love. You hugged her tighter, not sure who was more emotional at that point
"Y/N, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me"
Intern Daisuke
He planned the perfect Christmas adventure, complete with bullet points, timestamps, and color-coded charts. You had to give him credit for actually being organized for once—he really took his Christmas plans seriously
But, of course, the Christmas spirit was clearly not on his side this time. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong:
Alarm didn’t go off
There was a traffic jam due to a fender bender
Your favorite thrift store? Closed for maintenance
Even the skating rink shut down after some bizarre oil spill caused a dogpile (like, how does that even happen?)
By the end of the day, you weren’t mad at all, just hungry. And somehow, Daisuke turned every misfortune into something you both would be giggling about
You both bought GIGANTIC mugs at Walmart that read, “The Grinch pales at my naughtiness.” They were immediately used to create the world’s sickest hot chocolate, piled with as equally large marshmallows and a diabetes-inducing amount of whipped cream.
Meanwhile, Daisuke was relentless in roasting the Grinch—he couldn’t stop hating on that movie.
“Who even hates Christmas? It’s the grand finale of the year! Absolute loser behavior.”
Mechanic Swansea
Christmas in the garage, for short, his sanctuary. The man thought of everything: fully insulated it, brought in a heater, all just to make sure you were warm and comfy while you both worked
Both of you had this wordless agreement to work on woodcrafts for Christmas. He taught you the basics of woodworking and you proved yourself to be a modern abstract Picasso. You improved throughout the years, tho. Your pieces? From abstract Picasso to expressionism Picasso
He loves carving because it gives him the perfect excuse to sit right behind you, guiding your hands with his. His big teddy bear frame is all around you, and something about that just hits him deeply. Like when he knows you’re safe and protected in his arms. And your eagerness to learn and follow his moves. He melts.
Naturally, you got a splinter, triggering his fierce Tsundere side
“What did I tell you about not rubbing fresh-cut wood? Keep this up, and I’ll just have you sit on my lap while I do your work for you.”
But underneath all that scolding, you could see his silent panic. He just hides behind transparent glass
"Stop smiling at me like that, you clumsy goof"
After crafting a spoon with a thirty-degree angled handle and an awkward head (he still called it perfect, of course), he whipped up his signature paella
Somehow, despite having eaten a thousand spoonfuls of it over the years, you still weren’t tired of it
Co-pilot Jimmy
Jimmy’s not really one for celebrating Christmas. Not bitter about it or anything, but he just treated it like any normal day. That all changed, though, when he realized that Christmas was your thing.
“Babe, why Christmas?”
“Honestly? I’m not really sure. But you know how, when we were kids, there’s that feeling of excitement, like when Christmas is coming and you can’t stop smiling? It just brings all that back, and suddenly, you feel like a kid again. So I guess, it’s just nostalgia, huh?”
He never really thought about it that way before. After all, his goal as a kid was always to grow up faster than everyone else.
So, you took it upon yourself to share all your favorite Christmas traditions with him, hoping to bring a little of that magic into his world:
Decorating your tree? He suggested replacing the star with an angel figurine... with your printed face glued on it. (Naturally, he followed through after you both went to bed, sneaking up to do it.)
Making a gingerbread house? He blocked the chimney, and when you asked why… well, he said it best:
“I don’t want some fat bastard breaking in, he’d eat the entire damn house”
By Christmas Eve, looking around his once-bare apartment, now filled with colors he didn’t even know existed, he couldn’t stop that tugging in his heart. He didn’t even realize how much of his childhood was missing until now.
You were patching up his unhealed wounds with your bandaids, and he didn’t even notice until it was too late. He's down bad
a/n: I know it's late T.T, but here's the crew having some holiday break... future angst coming up with curly and you (sorry)
also p.s. english ain't my first language, so i kinda felt like my whole headcanon writing abilities were crap... but these somehow are the top liked posts soooo... future HCs comin' down your way
#mouthwashing#mouthwashing curly#mouthwashing swansea#mouthwashing anya#mouthwashing daisuke#mouthwashing jimmy#mouthwashing game#mouthwashing wrong organ#wrong organ#curly x reader#anya x reade#jimmy x reade#daisuke x reade#swansea x reade#mouthwash#anya mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x reader#curly mouthwashing x reader#jimmy mouthwashing x reader#daisuke mouthwashing x reader#swansea mouthwashing x reader#mouthwashing x you#mouthwashing x y/n
172 notes
·
View notes
Text
Give Me Your TMI~ Chapter 6
₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Yang Jeongin x Fem!reader, Stray kids x Fem!reader
₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; In a world where Humans and Hybrids should be living as equals, Hybrids are still viewed as being closer to their animalistic side than their humanistic. Deep in the woods lives a band of misfit hybrids who reject these societal views and keep to themselves, choosing to live away from humans. What happens when the youngest of this rogue group meets a lost Human girl, befriending her after an incident where he must rely on her for help?
₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; hybrid!au, female!reader, angst, mild violence, mentions of sexual harassment/assault and discrimination, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime fruits basket~
The coming weeks were filled of soft moments with the hybrids. Ever since you had confronted Chan about the flowers the wolf had warmed up to you a considerable amount, though he still never initiated any form of affection with you. Instead he chose to bask in the moments you would give him a warm smile in passing or when you would come to tell him dinner was ready, your voice so sweet he thought he’d surely get a toothache. The best though, was the morning he seemed to sleep in a bit too late. It was unusual for him to miss breakfast and you had been so worried you made your way into his room and sat on the edge of his bed where the wolf hybrid was deep in his slumber. You couldn’t help but stare at how peaceful and handsome he looked in his sleep. Carefully you carded your fingers through his soft dark curls, admiring his strong features until suddenly his hand shot up and wrapped around your wrist.
You startled lightly, jumping at the contact before you were pulled down against his chest snuggly. You were only dazed for a moment before giggling as you cozied up against him. “Sleepy?” You whispered to him, fingers still combing his hair back and scratching lightly behind his tall dark ears the way Jeongin seemed to like. “Hmph-“ he grumbled, nosing against your neck as he slowly gained consciousness. “Pretty?” He sounded so soft and confused, your heart melting as you pulled back to meet his gaze. “Yeah?” He smiled, a goofy half-asleep smile and shook his head before nuzzling back into the crook of your neck, the opposite side from where Jeongin’s bite was quickly scarring over. “Nothing, just making sure I wasn’t dreaming…”
Today you were in the living room, curled up on the couch with Hyunjin laying his full body over yours as you played with his long dark hair and absentmindedly twisted it into braids before undoing and redoing them again. The small fire place was lit, heating the cabin nicely from the chill of winter outside and casting the two of you in a soft orange glow.
You could hear Minho in the kitchen rummaging around, about to get up and check on him when you heard the older cat call out for someone else. “Changbin! Come here for a second?”
The bunny hybrid came down from his room upstairs, a confused look on his face as he approached the older. “What’s up, hyung?” Minho smiled sweetly, pointing to the fridge and cabinets. “We are out of a lot of things we get from town…do you think you could take Pretty with you and pick these up for me? I made you a list.” At the sound of your name you perked up, looking over the back of the couch to see Changbin watching you with an unreadable expression. “Um, yeah okay. Pretty? Borrow Lixie or Sung’s winter coat and meet me outside?” You nodded, giving Hyunjin a kiss to his forehead as an apology for having to leave him so abruptly before jogging up the stairs to find the two hybrids in Felix and Minho’s room. “Hey can I borrow a winter coat from one of you? Minho asked me to go to town with Changbin?” You were slightly confused, having thought the town was too far of a walk and you hadn’t seen any car around the property in your time living there. You weren’t about to question them though and decided to just go with it.
Felix was up in a second, grabbing a thick coat and sweater from the closet before holding them out to you. You see, even though they had brought your clothes from your camp they had all been of the summer variety since you hadn’t been planning to be in the forest for so long when you had originally packed.
Since it had gotten so cold you had to resort to borrowing clothes from the hybrids, your current attire consisting of a pair of sweatpants from Jisung, though the hole made for his tail had been sewn shut temporarily for you, and a long sleeve from Jeongin.
You took the items from the cat and gave him a smile as you thanked him, slipping the sweater and coat on over the shirt you already wore before heading back downstairs to slip on your sneakers. The only thing you couldn’t borrow from there were shoes, unfortunately, so they would have to do. Walking out the front door you saw Changbin waiting with his fluffy black ears tucked under his beanie and his tail completely covered by his pants and coat. He gave you a soft smile before waving you over. “Ready to go?” You nodded, looking from the hybrid to out over the forest. “How long is the walk?” You asked, voice a bit wary at the thought of how long it could take them to get down the mountain and back in the cold.
Changbin gave you a funny look before shaking his head. “We won’t be walking.” You then saw that he was standing beside a bicycle with a metal basket attached to the front of it. “Oh! Oh that makes a lot more sense…” the bunny laughed at your reaction, shaking his head as he began pushing the bike towards the woods. “Come on, we’re gonna wanna get going so we can get back before dark.” You nodded, following behind him quickly to not lose track of him once you entered the forest.
The ride to town wasn’t terrible, with Changbin riding and you standing on the little pegs on the back wheel with your arms wrapped tightly around his waist. The wind bit at any exposed skin as you flew down the winding road down the mountain.
by the time you made it to town your cheeks were ruddy and your nose tinted pink. “You okay? You were holding on pretty tight back there.” The hybrid teased, causing your already flushed cheeks to deepen a shade as you ducked away from him. “Just worried I might fall off with how fast we were going…do you do this often?” You were quick to change the subject, following behind him closely as he chained the bike up and headed for a small shop that seemed to be somewhat of a convenience store.
The town was pretty small, nestled in a rural area on the side of the mountain near the base. It was clearly still very far from most of civilization, perfect for locals who lived scattered around the vast forests or hikers passing through on the way to or from a trip on one of the trails your husband had been telling you about, although that could have all been a rouse for him to create a reason for the two of you to go on a camping trip to the mostly isolated mountain in the first place.
The shop keeper greeted Changbin and yourself kindly, going back to reading her paper as the two of you perused the shelves. In a cloth tote bag he had brought with you the hybrid began putting things like canned fruits and vegetables into the bag, looking over the list Minho had given him briefly as he continued shopping.
As you stayed in the shop longer you began wandering off from him, looking over what the store had to offer when you noticed a display full of Christmas ornaments and your eyes widened. Was it really already Christmas? You couldn’t believe it had been that long since you had been on the mountain. “Bin?” You called out as the hybrid was already up by the shop keeper to purchase the items he had collected. An idea had sprung up in your mind and you absentmindedly fiddled with something deep in the pockets of your coat that you had remembered to grab before leaving. “Yes, pretty?” He answered, joining you after paying for the groceries. “Can I look around without you for a bit? I just wanna check out the different shops…it’s been so long-“ He smiled, nodding as he understood how much of an adjustment it must have been for you to go from living in a more populated area, at least he assumed, to living so isolated in the woods for months. “I’ll be a few doors down at the butchers, okay? Meet me by the bike when you’re finished.”
Once left alone you smiled triumphantly and began picking up a few things of your own, your plan slowly coming together in your mind the more stores you visited.
It was about an hour later when you finally met back up with the bunny, his smile bright when he saw you coming towards him. “There you are! Thought for a moment you’d run off or gotten kidnapped.” You laughed, hitting his arm playfully before walking alongside him back the way you came.
Since the way back was mostly uphill you both chose to walk with the groceries both in the basket and hanging off the handlebars. “So what all did you end up getting? Looks like there are a lot of bags here…” You shrugged, trying to hide your smile. “Just some stuff I needed…ya know- I didn’t have too much with me when I was left here.” He nodded slowly, feeling like you weren’t being completely truthful but decided not to press the issue further. “So how are you able to pay for things from the stores here if you guys don’t have jobs?” You asked, the curiosity had been eating at you since Minho had asked you to go to town but you hadn’t been able to find the right time to mention it. “Hyunjin. You know how sometimes when we finish our chores he is in our room painting?” You nodded slowly, confused as to where this was leading but you waited for him to continue. “Well we bring them to town and a shop owner lets us sell them there and we come by to collect the money from them every other week.” Your eyes widened comically at the revelation. You knew that the ferret hybrid enjoyed painting and sketching in his free time, and he was extremely talented, but you hadn’t realized he sold the paintings he made. “That’s so smart- I don’t know why I didn’t connect the dots earlier considering he is always working on a new project but I never see them around the house for very long.”
The rest of the walk was spent in relative silence, the freezing wind and uphill trek making it a bit difficult to catch your breaths as it was.
By the time you arrived back at the cabin the sun was already setting and the two of you wasted no time putting the bike back in the shed next to the chicken coop and carrying your purchases inside. You were quick to place the things you had bought in yours and Jeongin’s room, joining Minho in the kitchen afterwards to wash up and help with dinner like usual.
“What are you up to, pretty? Changbin says you’ve been being very secretive since you were in town…not plotting to leave us, are you?” Though his tone was teasing you could tell some worry laid behind it. “Never. Just needed some…uh- feminine things.” The cat made a face, his curiosity quickly killed as he finished putting away the things Changbin had purchased for him. “Got it, no more questions from me.” You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head as you began working on the nights meal.
Late that night after everyone had already gone to bed you snuck out into the living room with the bags of stuff you had purchased earlier in town and got to work, trying your best to be as quiet as possible as to not wake the hybrids either their sensitive hearing abilities.
You were up all throughout the night making sure everything was perfect, having passed out on the couch once you were done as you were too tired to make it back to bed.
That’s where they found you the next morning, curled up with one of the throw blankets and clutching a couch cushion to your chest. “Pretty? What are you doing sleeping out here?” Jeongin was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, focusing on your sleeping form and not noticing the decoration now covering the room.
At the sound of his voice you woke, rising slowly to meet his gaze but it was no longer fixed on you.
There was tinsel wrapped around the bannister and handrailsof the staircase, as well as lining the mantle over the fire place with a set of warm toned string lights. You couldn’t figure out how to sneak a Christmas tree into the cabin, or where you would be able to find one unless you went out into the forest and chopped one down yourself, so instead you had set the presets you had wrapped along the hearth of the fireplace. There were four on each end, one for each of the hybrids, and more tinsel was laid out around them making them look like they were resting in little sparkly nests.
The whole house smelled of the sugar cookies you had stayed up baking as you decorated, the finished product placed on a tray for you all to decorate later with icing and sprinkles you had also gotten while in town.
Jeongin stared in wonder as he did a little spin around the room to take it all in, the other hybrids slowly filing into the living room as well as each of them woke up to start the day.
“Pretty what is all this..?” Minho questioned, a soft smile playing on his lips as he approached you. “Well- when we were in town I saw the decorations and realized it was almost Christmas! So…I wanted to do something nice for you all as a thank you for taking me in-“
Everyone was looking around with wide, curious eyes as the entered the room…all except for Changbin who looked physically tense at the sight. “Um- I know it isn’t much but i promise I’ll clean it all up afterwards!”
They all stood around, clearly unsure of what to do and you looked at them a bit confused until Minho spoke up. “You did amazing, pretty.” The older cat said as he made his way over to where you still sat on the couch and have a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ve just never had a Christmas before.” Oh, you hadn’t realized that they may have never had the chance to celebrate holidays before. Now their hesitation and curiosity made more sense to you.
Moving over on the couch you patted the spot beside you before motioning to the rest of the living room. “Okay um- come and take a seat and then I can give you guys your presents?” That seemed to snap them all out of the trance they seemed to be placed in, making their way over to find a seat either on the couch, an arm chair, or the floor. “We get presents…?” Jisung said softly, brown eyes as wide and soft as ever as he looked towards you hopefully. “Of course you do! You were all on the nice list this year.” You teased, a mischievous grin on your face as you got up and began passing out the gifts you had bought for them one by one. “Don’t open them until I say to, okay?” You instructed them as you handed Jisung his gift, seeing how excited the chipmunk was to be receiving a present.
When you got to Seungmin the hybrid in front of you looked confused, eyeing the small box you had placed in his hands curiously as you moved on to the next person. Changbin still looked frigid where he sat on the floor next to the beagle, causing you to hesitate as you held out a small bagged gift to him. “Um…Binnie? Is everything okay?” Your voice was soft and the bunny looked up at you slowly before forcing a smile once he saw the worry creased in your brow. “Yeah, I’m fine just- this isn’t technically my first Christmas…” you frowned slightly at his words, looking to Minho who simply shook his head and nodded back to the hybrid in front of you. “Oh- well um…you just look a little tense? I’m sorry if I upset you I know some people don’t like how overwhelming this kinda stuff can be I should have-“ Taking pity on you Changbin cut off your ramblings, shaking his head as he placed his hands over yours where they still held on tight to his gift. “Thank you, pretty. This is all so nice….I just don’t have very fond memories associated with the holiday is all. I’ll be okay.” Nodding slowly, you allowed him to take the bag from your hands before moving to sit back down in your spot on the couch next to Jeongin.
You eyed the bunny carefully, feeling there was still more to be said before you turned to look at the rest of the hybrids. Jisung in particular looked like if he didn’t get to open his present soon he’d vibrate out of the chair he was sitting on so you giggled a bit before speaking up. “Okay, you can open them-“ Before the words were even fully out the hybrids all began tearing into the wrapping paper excitedly, even Chan seemed to be full of childlike joy as he opened his own gift.
It wasn’t much, just things you were able to find in the small gift shops that were in town. Minho got a new cook book with recipes you looked over to make sure they used ingredients you had ready access to and would be easy for him to recreate.
Jisung got a romance novel as the hybrid seemed to always want you to tell him stories with similar plot lines, the hybrid didn’t know how to read but you could read it to him and teach him how to read it himself over time.
Felix got little soaps carved into the shape of a cat and little paws that smelled like vanilla and peppermint since he had been complaining about the scent less soaps they had currently being too boring.
Hyunjin got some new pencils and a sketchbook as you were sure his old one was on its last few pages and he was always misplacing his other pencils.
Chan got a bracelet woven with dark leather cords and you couldn’t help but smile as you watched him stare at it with so much joy as he asked Felix to help him put it on.
Jeongin got a stone carving of a fox about the size of his hand, something he could use to decorate his room as he didn’t seem to have many personal effects and the way his face lit up and he nuzzled against your neck with soft whispers of thanks made your heart flutter and something in you preen with satisfaction that you did good in picking his gift…a strange new feeling washing over you as if you could feel the exact joy and excitement as the fox.
Changbin got a pair of thick wool mittens where the tops could be folded back and held in place by a button to turn them into fingerless gloves, something to come in handy on trips to town or when our doing the laundry as you had noticed he didn’t have any when you went out with him the day before.
Lastly, Seungmin, who stared dumbfounded at the baseball he held. You had noticed one day when you were helping Changbin put away the laundry that he had a mitt sitting on his dresser but you didn’t remember seeing a ball anywhere, thinking that maybe he had lost it or never had one to begin with your eyes lit up when you saw it in the little shop. The beagle blinked once, twice, before he suddenly felt wet tears slipping down his cheeks. Quickly, before anyone could notice, he wiped them away and got up silently to go to his room.
You watched with a twinge of sadness as he left, feeling like you may have made a mistake with the gift you had gotten him but oh how wrong you were.
A chorus of thank yous rang out, Jisung even launching himself into your lap and begging you to read to him from his new book which you happily promised to do later after the chores for the morning were finished.
“I also made some cookies for us to decorate if you’d like..? It’s not the healthiest breakfast but it’s something we used to always do as kids growing up was decorate cookies in the morning before our lessons…” Felix’s eyes lit up as he jumped from his seat, almost knocking Chan over with the force where the wolf had been leaning against him to show off his new bracelet. “Yes! I mean- yeah sure that sounds nice..” You giggled at him, shaking your head as you carefully moved Jisung out of your lap and gave both him and Jeongin a kiss on the temple before getting up and following the younger cat into the kitchen. “Can you bring the cookies and decoration supplies to the table? I’m gonna start on making us some hot cocoa to go with them.” The hybrid beamed, nodding so fast his fluffy ears seemed to bounce as he took the trays of cookies to the dining table along with all the various sprinkles and icings you had bought.
As you busied yourself with stirring the chocolately mixture in the pot on the stove, you felt someone come up behind you and give a gentle tug on the sleeve of the sweater you still wore from Felix. “Hm?” You questioned softly, not turning to see who it was though you smelt the strong smell of cedar washing over you. How odd- “Um…P-Pretty?” Oh- that was…Seungmin’s voice. You turned to face him slowly, afraid any sudden movements would scare him off. “Yes, Seung?” The hybrid had his eyes downcast, hands nervously playing with the hem of his sweatshirt as he visibly took a deep breath. “Why did you get me a present when I’m always running away from you…?” His voice sounded so small, so….afraid. Your heart ached to reach out and pull him close but you didn’t want to overwhelm him when he was finally opening up to you. “Like I said…you were all on the nice list. The nice list means you get presents.” You shrugged it off like it was so simple, but the hybrid let out a little huff. “That’s just what they tell small children to get them to behave all year…I saw it in movies.” He was pouting, and god was it so adorable you had to fight the urge to poke his cheeks. “So why did you really get me a present?” You frowned, still stirring the mixture of chocolate and milk as you turned your focus back to your task and away from the hybrid. “Because you deserve nice things, Seungmin. You all do. I know you’ve had to go through so many hardships in your lives and it wasn’t fair to any of you…I don’t know exactly what happened to all of you but I know that it wasn’t right and that you deserved and still deserve so much better than that.” For a moment the room was silent, save for the sounds echoing from the dining room where the hybrids seemed to be creating a competition out of the cookie decorating task you had given them.
Suddenly you felt arms wrapping around you and hot breath fanning over your neck where the beagle nuzzled his face against you seemingly to hide himself or maybe mold into you until you became a single being, you weren’t sure but the embrace was tight and you could feel his body trembling against yours lightly. “Thank you….for everything you are doing for us, for me-“ you felt his tears suddenly wetting the back of your neck and causing the hair there to become damp. “Seung-“ you went to turn around, to embrace him back but his hold on you tightened. “Don’t move! Please- just…just stay like this? Please….” You nodded, the desperation in his voice breaking something inside you and made you want to comfort him more but you listened to him, continuing to stir the hot chocolate in the pot as he silently sobbed against you before pulling away a few moments later. You stayed still a bit longer, getting the feeling he didn’t want to be seen in that state and when you finally did look back he was already gone.
You portioned out the hot chocolate for everyone, bringing it into the dining room on a tray and setting it down before noticing Changbin was still sitting on the living room floor with his mittens in his hands, staring at them with such a blank expression worry began building up inside you once more. You made your way over to him and took a seat beside him quietly, your shoulder brushing his gently as you settled. “Are you sure everything is okay, Bin?” You knew you didn’t have as deep of a connection with the bunny hybrid, his interactions with you having always been neutral even if they were in the more positive side. He always seemed to keep you at arms length, not outright avoiding you like Seungmin or being somewhat hostile like Chan, but not quite the warmth and openness you seemed to receive from the others.
He sighed, blinking slowly before he responded. “I was a Christmas gift.” Oh- you thought for a moment, unsure how to respond to that but before you had a chance to he continued. “I was bought for a little girl, probably about five or six years old? I wasn’t much older than her at the time either…She begged her parents for a bunny but they thought a hybrid would be easier to take care of than a normal pet…” A frown settled on your face but you stayed silent, nodding for him to continue. “At first everything was fine, she would dress me up in her dresses and we would have tea parties and play games but then sometime in the spring she got bored of me…She got new toys for her birthday and seemed to forget all about me. I don’t know why her parents kept me for so long, but I lived there for ten whole years…” at that your eyes widened, your voice softly escaping you. “Ten years?” Nodding, Changbin took a shaky breath and you watched as a few tears slid down his cheeks before landing on where his hands still clutched onto the mittens. “After the first two they moved me out of her room and down the hall…I think they forgot about me too. If it wasn’t for their maids remembering to feed me every once in a while I probably would have starved. I don’t think they even noticed when I climbed out the window and finally escaped but….I’m sorry-“
Confusion painted your expression instantly, why was he apologizing to you? “Changbin why-“ cutting you off, the bunny turned and pulled you close to him as he cried. “You did something so nice for all of us and all I can think about is how if there was never a Christmas then I never would have been placed in that awful home….and all this time I’ve been keeping this- this wall up between us because I’ve been so afraid that eventually you’ll forget about me too and I’ll have to lose you like I lost her-“ immediately you pulled him closer, his salty tears continuing to dampen the hairs at your neck as Seungmin’s had earlier but you didn’t mind. You just held him close as you ran your fingers gently through his soft curly black hair. “Shhh it’s okay, Binnie…I understand. I don’t think I could ever blame you, any of you, for being hesitant or distant with me. It means so much to me that despite all of your negative experiences with humans in the past you’ve given me the chance to stay here…and I’m going to do my dammdest to undo any of the harm those awful people before me caused. You know why?” He sniffled, pulling back just enough to wipe his tears before blinking up at you. “W-Why?” You smiled softly, poking his cheek before leaning in to kiss his forehead gently. “Because you deserve kindness, warmth, love…all of you. Even if it takes time, years even- I’ll continue to try and prove it to you all and make you feel it.”
Softly, you heard a different voice speak up from beside you as Hyunjin came to sit on your other side. “I was a present too…for a little boy on his thirteenth birthday. He didn’t really want a pet or a hybrid but his parents thought he needed to learn some responsibility….it was so lonely in that house- I tried so hard to get him to like me or spend time with me but all he wanted to do was go play out with his friends or play video games. I think I stayed for a few years but I didn’t really keep track of the time…it wasn’t until he got himself a girlfriend that he kicked me out and told me that if I came back he’d send me away to a facility where they use hybrids for test subjects-“ the ferret shivered at the memory, cuddling up to your side as he closed his eyes tight as if to will it away. “You’re so much nicer than he was…and you smell sweeter too- I never thought I’d meet a human who didn’t mind how clingy I can get. Even the others sometimes get annoyed with me for it-“
You gasped, thumping his head lightly before pulling him closer with one arm while the other stayed wrapped around Changbin’s still sniffling form. “Don’t you dare say that, Hyunjin. They aren’t really annoyed with you, only teasing…we all love how soft and sweet your cuddles are. I mean I know I do- and if they were really annoyed they would be a lot more forceful when they tell you to stop. Trust me, I notice things and they always have a goofy smile after telling you to get off them as if they don’t really mean it.”
Hyunjin looked back at where everyone was still decorating cookies, laughing and enjoying each others company, then back to you with soft tearful eyes. “You really think so?” You smiled warmly, leaning in to give a peck to his cheek. “If you want I can ask them to dial it down on the teasing towards you.” He shook his head, laying with his head resting against your shoulder. “No, it’s okay. I can always come to you for snuggles when they are being too mean.” He said with a smile, a slight teasing tone of his own in his voice that made you laugh as you reached up to ruffle his hair gently.
You stayed like that snuggled up with the two hybrids as you both watched the rest of your little family have a playful competition over who had decorated the best cookies. It wasn’t until you heard genuine shouting and arguing that you jumped up to intervene, having to pull Jeongin away from a very smug looking Minho while Chan scolded him for eating the fox’s cookie before he got the chance to show you and you began petting the youngest’s hair and reassuring him that he could make another one and you would watch to make sure you got to see the finished product.
Far away from the mountain, with the busy city life buzzing outside, a young man sat in a police station at one of the lead detectives desks as he fidgeted nervously with his wedding band.
“Tell me again sir, from the top, when was the last time you saw your wife?”
author’s note; dun dun DUUUUNNN~~~ hehe Merry (belated) Christmas!! This was an emotional rollercoaster I feel but I hope you all enjoy~ (mild spoiler warning but you may wanna prepare for like- some of the most angst I’ve ever written to come in the next two to three chapters- SORRY)
taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @coastinglove @estella-novella @chancloud8 @skzswife @motheraiya55 @zofia515 @skybluelixie @breadedloafs @inaribu00 @silly250 @royal-shinigami @thatgirlangelb @bby-boo4u @emmxxsworld @vampkittenb82 @h0rnyp0t @alisonyus @im-sinking-in-mud @ihrtlix @mrs-hwangh @danixiulin @wolfo2027 @kiaralynn3838 @ateez-atiny380 @daceyena @bookswillfindyouaway @blackcatpandora @popcatx0 @corgilover20 @marshmelonie @sassy-snassy @straykidslover2024 @xgridx
#stray kids#skz#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#stray kids bang chan#stray kids lee know#stray kids changbin#stray kids hyunjin#stray kids han#stray kids felix#stray kids seungmin#stray kids i.n#yang jeongin x reader#yang jeongin#skz hybrid au#stray kids hybrid au#hybrid au#hybrid#female!reader#fem!reader
148 notes
·
View notes
Text
On a Wing and a Prayer
Part 7 - Well This Is Awkward
CW: Angst, mention's of alcohol, mentions of panic attack's, mental health, mentions of injuries, mentions of death.
Did I mention I like medical dramas?
Previous parts - masterlist - next
Your therapist is nice. You’ve been going to her for the past 3 months, you were only supposed to go for a single session. Then the army insisted on more. Johnny was sent home on medical leave a few days after you left. He came to see you and stayed the night.
The next morning you had to tell him to leave, it just wasn’t the same.
‘I’ll be staying at the house if you want to visit?’
Shit, you forgot about the house. The place you all pitched in to buy, so you all had somewhere to stay when you were on leave. Everyone’s flats are too small to accommodate all 5 of you. Besides, flat hopping everyday across London was expensive.
‘I’ll talk to John when he’s back.’ All you want back is the deposit.
“Do you feel guilty?” She asks you. It snaps you out of your thoughts and you turn to look at her.
“No.” You say, she hums. You hate it when she does that. You don’t know why it is a particularly tough session. You just want to go home. “They hurt me. I don't feel guilty about that.”
“You left the unit though.” Bitch. “It’s okay to feel guilty about that.”
“Okay fine. I feel guilty about leaving Johnny and Kyle.” You snap back. Anything to get her to sign you off so you can go. You look up at the clock, you still have at least 40 minutes left in this season.
“Have you got your letter from the university yet?” She asks changing the subject. You nod. After a few weeks of crying on the bathroom floor and drowning yourself in bottles of vodka you decided to get your shit together.
“That’s good, what's the plan going forward?”
“I’ll be posted on a base somewhere where I can get hands-on experience in trauma care. With studying on the side.” You say without going too much into the complications.
“So the army is actively helping you, that's good.”
“Yeah I think they’re willing to do anything so long as I don’t sue them.” You scoff under your breath. She hums.
You don’t know how true that is, maybe it’s just something you tell yourself so you don’t feel so conflicted over how accommodating they’ve been. They’re paying your uni bills and even got you one some army teaching program aimed to fast track you through the ranks.
“What about Kyle and Johnny? Have you heard from them since you spoke to them last?” Fucking bitch. You sigh, turning away from her. The last time you spoke to them was almost a month ago. They text you from time to time, try to call you.
You’ve ignored them, so much that you feel like anything you say to them will just be meaningless.
“Yeah, they’re deployed.” You lie. She smiles. You look back up at the clock.
30 minutes to go.
______________________
Iraq is hot. That you expected but the hospital’s electricity is sketchy at best. You have to keep the air-con off to make sure the ventilators don’t cut out. The US built this place, you’re only supposed to be here for another week at least before you’ll move again.
As soon as the electric is fixed it will be handed over to the UN to run, until then it was getting a dry run as a combat hospital. Lots of blown off limbs and bullets to pull out people. Lots of death.
You told Johnny and Kyle where you were going when you got your placement. You’re trying to patch things up with them after basically leaving them on read for almost 3 months. Your therapist said it would be a good thing to do.
The sun is setting, you're sitting outside watching as it touches the top of the distant mountains. The place is busy, friendly forces are still pretty much living here. It’s the only safe zone in this part of the desert, why the UN wanted a hospital out here you’ll never know.
Something about re-urbanisation of previously controlled territories. You don’t care, you're here to pull bullets out of people and save lives. Other than your mentor-Dr. Sands-you’re the only other doctor on the base. Doctor is a loose term, you’re technically still a student, but you ace all your skills labs, and the army is begging for help apparently.
You let out a breath, finishing the rest of your drink and getting up and pulling your white lab coat on.
“Well, fancy seeing you ‘ere.” You hear a familiar thick accent behind you. You turn to see Johnny standing behind you.
What the fuck.
You’re hugging him before you can stop yourself. You see Kyle, John and Simon stood behind him. They’re all geared up, weapons slung over their chest or back.
You thought you would feel something when you saw them. Maybe you'd want to run, scream, cry, anything. You feel nothing, just numbness.
“What are you doing here?” You ask.
“Oh you know, Shepherd says jump, we say how high.” he says nudging you, it makes you smile and you shake your head.
“Finally going for the MD?” He asks, pointing at the student doctor tag on your coat.
“Yeah well, you like putting bullets in people. I like pulling them out.”
“Oh yeah not even the occasional love tap?” He jokes, throwing his arm around your shoulders.
“Only the bad guys.” You reply. You look up at Kyle who’s smiling. Then John and Simon.
“You look good.” John says.
“Yeah well that’s what 6 months of therapy will do to you.” It’s bitter, harsher than you expected it to be. It’s the first time you’ve spoken to him in 6 maybe 7 months. He hasn’t changed a bit. He still smiles at you, his body language open, his hands on his hips.
Simon stands with his arms crossed, his presence is looming, making hairs stand up on the back of your neck.
“It’s good to see you again.” Kyle says, you nod at him.
“Oh when we’re back we should catch a bite to eat.” Johnny says enthusiastically, moving away over to Kyle.
“You can tell us what to avoid in the mess.” Kyle adds. You smile again. You go to open your mouth but your pager beeps. You look down at it. It’s the doctor.
“Yeah, when you’re back, come find me.” You say turning into the building.
“Stay safe!” Johnny calls.
“Yeah you too!” You call back pulling your radio off your hip. When you make it through the door you squeeze your eyes closed for a second and let out a long breath.
Now you hate this hospital even more.
______________________
It’s dark out now. You look over at the clock and it's almost midnight. You’re sat at the nurses station listening to them talk about whatever drama is going on in the next base. You still can’t believe you ended up in the same base as 141.
They’ll be gone soon, even Johnny seemed surprised, maybe he thought you’d be gone by now. Now you have to eat with them at some point. Johnny and Kyle at least.
The doctor left an hour ago to go to another base for a surgery. You’re used to this taking the night shifts. Normally you just sleep and get woken up a few times for the nurses to ask for medication changes. You’ve only ever had one trauma come in at night and the doctor was there to help you with the limited night time staff.
You tried to sleep but you couldn’t, you were restless trying to think about what they were doing here? Who were they after? How long would they be here? At least at the nurses station you can listen to the nurses and let their gossip distract you.
The red trauma phone rings. For a second you think it’s a joke, it’s the normal phone. Nope, the red light is flashing on it. You stand up picking it up.
“Trauma.” You say.
“Got one incoming, ETA 15 minutes. GSW to the chest, breathing unconscious. 30 year old male.” You hear an American voice say as you write it down. You don’t have time to worry or be nervous. This is what you live for, you let the adrenaline pump through you. It clears your mind as you take down the information.
“Copy, what’s the name?”
“Riley.” Your heart stops.
“Say again?”
“Riley, Simon Riley.”
It feels like all the air has been sucked out of your lungs. You’re squeezing the phone in your hand, the pen has fallen to the floor. You look over at the nurses already pulling gowns on and getting into position in the resus bay.
You don’t even register saying copy and putting the phone back. You turn away from the nurses braising yourself on a filing cabernet.
Simon’s shot. All you can see is his face, his body covered in blood. He’s always so careful, he’s always the one dragging people out the field not getting shot. Something must have gone horribly wrong.
You weren't there. He’s shot and you weren't there to save him.
You suck in breaths of air, the adrenaline isn’t helping now.
“Doctor?” You hear one of the nurses call. You turn to look at them, you have to keep it together.
“Page the doctor.”
next
Banners by firefly-graphics
#call of duty#fanfic#cod#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#john price#ghost cod#kyle gaz garrick#kyle gaz x reader#kyle garrick#kyle gaz x you#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon ghost x you#simon x reader#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#taskforce 141#poly 141#poly 141 x reader#tf 141 x reader#task force 141#cod 141#john price x reader#captain john price#price x reader#john price x you#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#johnny soap mctavish x you
150 notes
·
View notes