#except for one pose a day or two ago i think

[har-rison-s]

whatever you need | coryo snow x fem!reader

a/n: don't mind me, just eating pomelo and writing smut. i daydream about this piece every and all work day i have rn, it's pretty unhinged bcs i'm working as a gift wrapper for the holiday season and just staring ahead thinking of.... things. i'm technically an atheist, but i would need forgiveness for those thoughts. ANYWAY JEEZ. this took me like four days, help. i'm so insecure abt my smut writing, tho so ooohhh god am i actually dreading posting this. i'll just publish and run away from tumblr for a week. happy reading

talk to me about coryo here

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word count: 7.2k (sawrry)

themes: smut

warnings / disclaimers: smut, unprotected p in v, brief mutual masturbation, cum eating (SCREAMING), fingering, crying, ENJOY jsdfjhsadsd

gif credit goes to owner <3

something strange was happening in the arena. something was being done to the camera feeds that were supposed to livestream every second of what was happening in it. only because something seemed to have gone wrong in the games y/n was stuck to the television screen in her living room slash lounge. her parents were called into urgent work in district three a few hours ago, so it was only her and some of the maids in the house. they kept to themselves, though, and were probably asleep in their quarters at the mansion’s far-end wing. except for the main housekeeper, who was adamantly guarding the entrance of the house, in case anyone came by.

her parents were counting on someone coming by - with the way she was recently behaving at school and with the rebel bombs, they were real worried about her well-being. she was always alone at home, because there was no one to bring home. except the dean, but he came by himself and only to serve his usual scolding and threats about y/n’s rebellious nature and behaviour at school. her parents hadn’t felt such worry for their daughter as they felt now since the war days. 

what soothed her mother’s worried heart and mind was the presence of the maids and the housekeeper. y/n appreciated their staying around and liked hearing noises made by someone else in the mansion, even if it was only a far-away creak of floorboards or a door closing. but she didn’t need anything from them, ever, she’d been very independent since her early childhood, and maids seemed like such an excess right now, an even backwards concept for y/n. her family employing them, unable to live without them, made her feel like the rich princess everyone deemed her being. 

y/n had felt fine being home alone until the feed from the arena turned strange. darker, blacker, and the audio seemed warped or otherwise manipulated. she’d caught sight of a familiar figure entering the arena – who was that? how did he get inside? who can tell... – and then the feed changed. there was nothing much she could see, but her eyes had been glued to the screen of her television for the past half hour, anyway. all the while she was straining her eyes to try to see who it was, and at some point that figure was joined by another by Sejanus’ tribute Marcus’ bruised and wounded body, and then the feed darkened nearly completely. 

she sat in her sofa in an embryo pose, blanket over her stressed form, covering her back and the bare feet and legs that the knitted bedtime jumper couldn’t. she realized the gamemakers or the Capitol were trying to hide something, nothing else could explain the feed changing and audio going wobbly and earning static in the process. 

the bell ringing at the front door startled her so bad that y/n gasped and jerked in her position on the sofa. her head whipped in its direction and she watched two figures entering her family’s mansion from the far end of the hallway. she could already tell who the two were, but she remained sat on the sofa, her legs unmoving out of anxiety. she shut off the television and just watched them walk towards her through the unlit hallway, arms wrapping around her knees underneath her beloved blanket.

“ms y/l/n, a mister Snow is here, for you,” the housekeeper announced as she and Coriolanus entered the living room, Coriolanus stumbling into the room more than walking into it. he looked like he was falling to pieces. his breath was heavy, hair and academy uniform in disarray, face just... bewildered. y/n nodded at her housekeeper, extended her arms towards Coryo like a child reaching for its favourite toy and sniffled quietly.

“thank you, Nora,” she told the housekeeper, “please leave us. you can go to bed, i won’t need anything else for the night.” she said in a hushed voice and the housekeeper nodded, knowing to listen to the child of her employers. y/n hated giving anyone orders, much less this spectacular lady, but she did want to be alone with Coryo. and by the look of him, she could tell he couldn’t be around anyone else but her. he was a man of privacy, after all.

as soon as Nora shut the door behind her and left for the maids’ quarters, Coryo accepted the plea in y/n’s extended arms and stumbled over to her on the sofa. “i—i’m sorry,” he said the first words out of breath, in a voice so broken and frail that y/n’s lips twitched downwards and she felt the need to cry, “i didn’t know where else to go, i couldn’t... i couldn’t f-face anyone else...” as he sat down before y/n’s bare feet peeking out from the blanket, she noticed in the poor lighting of the room that his clothes were dirty. there were cuts in his shirt, dirt, gravel, sand... blood. 

“what happened?” her voice wouldn’t go any louder than a whisper, and her lips were turning into a pout as she looked Coryo over, her meek hands reaching out for him but unsure whether she should touch him or not. he could fall apart like the frailest glass, it seemed, if anything touched him right now. his face was bruised. there were small cuts on his cheek, blood on his chin. she noticed how they had already been taken care of.

Coryo still took heavy breaths, but finally he felt like his vision was real and not fooling him, and he took in his surroundings. the dim lighting in the posh room, y/n’s bare feet touching his red academy pant leg, her legs pulled up to her chest under a cute throw-blanket in the pastel colour of chocolate milk, her small hands reaching out to him, unsure, unsteady. he lifted his head to look at her, and the expression on her face made his heart lurch in his chest. her glassy eyes – no doubt matching his –, the pout on her lips, her rosy cheeks, eyebrows scrunched in worry and confusion. he could never decline that face. “dr Gaul sent me inside the arena to get Sejanus out,” he finally said, and he spoke in a whisper tone that could only be meant for secrets, “but the tributes heard us... i’m not sure i should even be telling you about this at all,” he admitted.

y/n shook her head. “your secret’s safe with me,” she assured with a gentle nod.

“yes, but dr Gaul—” Coryo began, but she interrupted him in the voice of a faint whisper. 

“i know how terrifying she is,” y/n persisted, “she won’t know that i know.” she said even quieter and looked, really looked, into Coryo’s eyes, and nodded gently again at him. he searched her eyes for a few seconds, weighing the risk of her knowing this, trying to decide if he should tell her more or just cut short here. but really. she’s a loose end and she knows it. it’s not like dr Gaul was in high thoughts of y/n or deemed her more valuable than any other student, and her nature played a big part in that opinion of the young girl. how would she know that y/n found out about this night in the arena? she wouldn’t. it would never come up in conversation. y/n wasn’t part of this.

“the tributes heard us,” Coryo started to say as he sat closer to y/n, his body turned to face her, and almost loomed over her. he’s always been much taller than her, and sometimes that played a part in their dynamic. he took her hands in his above her bent knees and the blanket. he licked his lips and y/n searched his eyes, his... stoic blue eyes. there was a change in them, “they came after us and i...” he shook his head, “i didn’t want to hurt him,” Coryo’s voice broke and his head dropped onto y/n’s covered knees. 

she heard a sob from him, and it shook her entire form, making her gasp quietly. she’d never seen him cry before. the night on the rooftop, in the garden, she knew he was close to it, but she knew he’d never let his pride down so much that he’d let anyone see him cry. and Coryo didn’t feel so good about crying now, about opening himself up to her like this, he felt disgusted with himself. but he also couldn’t stop. and he couldn’t hide everything from her, after all. 

y/n shuffled around until her legs were tucked under herself and she moved closer to Coryo, taking his scarred cheeks between her small hands and lifting his face up so he would see her. she knew she made him nervous usually, but she calculated that that effect flipped around on itself when he was in this state, or one similar to this. breaking apart. feeling vulnerable. beaten down. she looked into his eyes and he back into hers, not really having any other choice. she had this compelling power over him, even if he didn’t want to admit it, and he didn’t want to hide from her. not really.

his breathing slowed down as he just looked into her wondering beautiful orbs, full of so much determination, courage and kindness. she was almost smiling at him, even though she wanted to cry, too, and her eyes were glassy with produced tears, but she wanted to appear strong for him. because right now he really needed a strong anchor to hold onto, he was the one in need of support. y/n took that role mainly in their friendship-relationship, especially at school, when she got herself in trouble, or at home, when her parents were giving her an earful about her irresponsibility and all the jazz they usually gave her an earful about.

last time Coryo and y/n saw each other, she realized he had the ability to ground her. and now she realized she had the ability to ground him, because by looking into his eyes she could see his emotions and mood changing by the second. and all because she’s holding him, and he’s looking into her eyes. he didn’t need much more than that. 

and yet maybe he did. he didn’t know which part of him had the urge, but all of him acted on it by ducking forward and kissing her on the lips. he could taste the sweat she had made on her lips out of stress, and the blueberry tartlet she must have had as a late snack not too long ago. and his hands couldn’t keep away anymore, either, they were taking hold of her face like hers was holding his cheeks between them. y/n would have gasped at his sudden action if she had any air to breathe, and she sighed heavily when he did give her a split second of air after fiery kisses to her delicious lips. 

he kept his eyes on her as he pulled his academy blazer off and threw it to the ground beside the couch, then came back closer to her, one hand on her cheek and the other pulling the adorable blanket off her legs. y/n placed a palm on that hand of his, which made Coryo furrow his eyebrows and look at her with puzzled eyes. didn’t she want this, too? she gulped, eyes averted from his shyly. “i’d rather we talked about it, Coryo,” she admitted and looked back at him carefully, eyes so un-knowing and yet more clever than most people’s. Coryo tilted his head slightly at her words. 

his hands took the bull by its horns, pulling the blanket fully away and welcoming the night air of the mansion upon y/n’s bare legs, making her gasp again. Coryo used the moment of surprise to his advantage and pushed her down on the sofa, sneaking in between her legs like the slippery mastermind he was, and he slid a hand under her knitted jumper, raising goose-bumps in his wake across her stomach and waist. y/n hated that she felt aroused, meaning she felt exactly how he wanted her to, was right where he wanted her, but she couldn’t exactly pull away. she hated being at someone’s mercy, but.... it was Coryo.

she surprised him when he found she wasn’t wearing a bra under her jumper, nothing was standing between his greedy hands and her naked breasts now, though her not wearing a bra at home wasn’t exactly a surprise. it’s just that his inexperienced self was shocked to find a part of her naked, and right there, at his disposal. watching her face, he placed his palm over one of her breasts and ran his thumb over her nipple, which hardened immediately under his touch. and her face, oh, the expression on it was to die for. eyes softly shut, eyebrows gently spasming as she was feeling something very new to her, her teeth biting her lower lip, cheeks turning more red and no doubt burning up. Coryo placed a kiss on her bare stomach, just above the elastic of her underwear, and watched her still as she whimpered for the first time. her thighs fidgeted around him, feet unsurely digging into the soft cushions of her couch—she really didn’t know what to do with herself and these sensations she was experiencing. 

“i’d rather we didn’t,” he said to her finally, though his actions were more than enough of a response to what she said, but she hardly heard him now. there was a gentle static in her ears, and heat all over her writhing form. her pure, supple, untouched form. all for him to touch, to explore. Coryo took his shirt off in a hurry, as if y/n might disappear if he had his hands off her for a second longer, and returned to her half-naked body a hungrier man. hands raking the insides of her thighs, he kissed her again, hot lips making their conversation just moments ago seem like the far past, making her almost forget it happened. y/n could hardly feel her legs, though she knew this was just the beginning, and she wrapped her arms around Coryo’s frame and held onto him as he moved his slender torso against her chest. she could feel the bones of his hips jutting against her own, his growing crotch pressing against her panty-covered soaking cunt, teasing her, making her pant heavily and whimper like a kitten. 

having her like this satiated the hunger that rose from the deep hole he’d created inside himself, gnawing at him like a big black hole with eager, starving claws. every stroke of his hips against hers beat the monster down but dangled the bait in front of it at the same time, leaving him in quite the paradox. this was more than enough, yet Coryo knew he could go further with y/n, further than enough, and that she’d let him. everything in him wanted to, and he couldn’t stop himself. adrenaline was pumping blood from his heart into his veins, she was available and the only one who could help with the hole growing inside him. 

but y/n couldn’t go further without another word spoken. he was avoiding her question, he was avoiding the whole last hour of this night. “Coryo,” she whispered softly as his lips kissed at her neck, tongue sweeping over a particularly bruised-with-kisses spot on her sculpture-like skin, he was an animal let loose. and his affections almost made her forget what she wanted to ask, and she thought maybe she doesn’t really want to know. but y/n sighed, trying to clear her mind, “tell me what happened,” she plead in a quiet voice and it made Coryo raise his head and look into her eyes again. 

he framed the side of her face with only a hand, his thumb on her chin and the rest of his palm splayed across her burning cheek. he loved seeing the look of lust and confusion on her face, in her eyes most of all. the pads of his fingertips softly pushed into her skin. “no,” he remained stubborn, and y/n would have been surprised to have him do otherwise. she gulped softly, hoping he wouldn’t feel it, but no, he felt every motion any part of her made now. his mind came up with a new idea as he slid a hand of his across her stomach, making a wave across her supple body, and then he reached her underwear. he knew, like everyone else did sort of matter-of-factly, that women were to be touched there. he knew it was the spot in her with which he could get her full attention. and he also knew he’d have to fabricate having experience in this field for y/n. he didn’t want her to think him inexperienced, which he was exactly, or least of all that he’s experimenting with her—which was also what he was doing. so he improvised by cupping her warmest place in the body, and he felt an immediate reaction. her thighs fidgeted around his waist again and her stomach lurched. her eyes shut, but he wanted to see them, “open your eyes,” Coryo urged her, and y/n had to force herself to comply, her beautiful eyes looking into his again. they held eye contact as he ran his middle finger in a straight line between her clothed folds, and he watched as her face contorted, caused by the new strange and pleasant feelings. she felt like warm honey on his fingers, “right now all i need is to feel you,” he told her and did the same motion with his finger again, only this time slower, making it pleasurably agonizing for her, coaxing quiet whimpers from her lips, “and this tells me you need it, too.” 

god, she hated that he was right. at first it was want, she wanted him to stay over, to touch her, to feel her, to do things to her that no one else had ever before. now, she felt so desperate for it that she felt she could explode if she didn’t get what seemed to be promised to her. the want grew to need. she wanted to shake her head, wanted to push him off—that would really be characteristic to her. but instead she brought herself to really look into his eyes and nod in response. Coryo’s lips almost made a smile or a grin, almost, she caught the ghost of it in the corner of his lips before he kissed her again. “alright, Coryo,” she whispered against his lips, “but if you don’t touch me properly right now, i willkick you out of my home.” she said surely, admitting to her desperation without shame and in turn – with pride, and now Coryo grinned. her feistiness was one of the things he liked about her, and it coming out in this setting was more than he could have asked for. in a weird way it got him going. 

y/n placed both of her hands on the sides of his face and kept him close to her as he reached his hand into her underwear, breaching into unexplored territory. she was all the warmer for him, and soaking wet. he hummed, their lips nearly touching, but not completely. it was torture for him. he wanted to devour her lips, her whole face, her whole existence. her lips were like the food of life for him, the sounds she made music to his ears and air in his lungs. “you’re just perfect for me,” he confessed to her in a shudder and y/n smiled lightly. his fingers ran through her naked warm folds, just testing the waters, until they found the opening between them, where the wetness and warmth were seeping from. Coryo would have dropped his head onto her shoulder if her hands weren’t holding it up right, but he just felt like he lost his damn mind at how incredible her walls felt around his fingers, and he could collapse right there on top of her. 

“Coryo,” she sang his nickname in a beautiful moan when two fingers prodded inside her, beating any expectations she had about this beforehand. they were long and thick, touching every inch of her, it felt like, and reaching just far enough. she was barely holding onto him, and her body was reacting to his touches immediately. hips moving, back arching, thighs squeezing his body between them, breaths shuddering. 

“no one’s done this to you before, have they?” Coryo asked, but he hardly needed an answer. by the way she was reacting, he could tell that she’d never felt like this before. y/n shaking her head at his question was merely the last dot on the confirmation, yet it still made him more aroused. knowing he was the first one to do this to her, with her. he grazed her upper wall with his finger pads, being careful not to let his nails scrape her, and it brought a moan from her that he’d never heard anyone make. guttural, coming from the very depths of her lungs, her vocal cords, from her very core. it made him shudder. he repeated the motion, slower one time, then faster the next, all the while watching her reaction. he loved seeing her eyes shut, her cheeks become redder, her lips parting, stretching, pushing breaths and whimpers out from between them. Coryo felt one of her hands sliding up into his hair, and he groaned. her hips bucked and she grabbed onto his perfect curls between her fingers when he reached farther inside her with his two fingers, and it made them both moan into each other’s mouths, y/n letting his lips rest over hers. he’d reached that great point inside her, feeling her hot and spongy against his digits. it’s almost like she was sucking him in. “you’re so good for me,” Coryo told her and y/n whimpered at the praise. 

“more, please,” she begged with no shame and Coryo obliged, picking up the pace of his fingers and massaging over her folds with his thumb all the while. when he accidentally grazed over her clit, y/n made a high-pitched moan of the utmost sensitivity, and he knew he’d done the right thing. and by accident, no less. he was on the winning team, “Coryo,” she cried with her eyes shut and he noticed a tear on her cheek, kissing over it immediately. next his lips were on hers again, lapping at her tongue with his own like the starving man he was, knowing nothing of tomorrow or the next hour, just so engulfed in her that he knew nothing else. she was the perfect getaway.

he could feel her body behaving in a different way, thighs trembling around him, walls squeezing his hand in, hands nearly powerless, chest shuddering. she wasn’t far off her release, he guessed. with another press to the sensitive bundle of nerves that made her cry, Coryo once again watched her reaction in amazement. but he didn’t want to feel her release like this, he needed them both different. Coryo pulled his fingers away, once again making y/n cry out, this time in the most desperation she could manage, and she looked up at him with pleading, tearful eyes. he offered her a gentle smile and moved down her body, dragging her underwear with him. down her legs and away, the light pink garment went, and y/n bit her plump lip in anticipation as she watched him. 

Coryo tucked her underwear into the trousers of his academy uniform that he was still wearing and returned to her body, laying kisses across her thighs on his way up to her. y/n squirmed under and around him, mewled, muttering his name in a mewl here and there, relishing in the feeling of his lips on her untouched skin and his hands roaming all over her body, under her jumper, over it, trying to cover every inch of her. she hated that he had stopped touching her right when she was closest to that one sacred edge she wanted so badly to reach, he was teasing her, taunting her, testing her waters. it was clear to her that he had never done this to another girl before. Coryo was just like her, and yet he’d put up a different façade. 

he dug his fingers into the flesh of her naked hips, which made y/n throw her head back into the sofa cushions, baring her delicious-looking neck to Coryo. he used that to his advantage, licking and kissing at the skin of her neck which he had already bruised marked with his lips just moments ago, he was devouring her with a hunger only she could really satiate, and yet he couldn’t get enough of her. his growing crotch pressed against her bare cunt, and y/n gasped at the feeling. eyebrows scrunched, cheeks and lips red and puffy, she looked up at Coryo again, and he returned the gesture. he took one of her hands in his and guided it down to between them, where he was growing harder and in size, it seemed, watching her face all the while and taking notice of her biting down on her lower lip in anticipation. Coryo made her feel him through his trousers, and he couldn’t hide the effect her touch had on him - shuddering throughout his whole body, eyelids fluttering, he was barely able to utter the next words, but he did so in a quiet voice. “feel what you do to me?” 

y/n nodded with lustful eyes, hungry like the wolf for the boy above her. her boldness came back and with it y/n unzipped Coryo’s custom-made trousers and reached into his boxers to really feel him. he had girth and he was solid, she could feel that all with her hand on him. she was making him a panting mess, giving his length a sure stroke, Coryo’s head falling into the crook of her neck and him moaning, though she knew the piece of his pride that died for him to do that. he hardly let anyone see his inner world, his true feelings, so for him to be this vulnerable with her took a great deal of courage. “do i make you... feel like this often?” y/n asked quietly, and Coryo nodded with a whimper as her finger flicked over his tip, pink and sensitive. y/n wrapped her fingers around his shaft and stroked up and down, slowly, looking at his face all the while, wishing she could see his beautiful eyes now, see the emotions swimming around in the blue of them.

Coryo fisted the pillow right beside her, heavy breaths leaving his parted lips, “yes, yes, yes, god, yes,” he chanted in her ear as the pace of her strokes grew faster, and y/n could feel each breaths in his lungs against her own, his chest rising and hitting against her so intensely. she’d made him crumble beneath her so quickly, it surprised her, “i need you, y/n, i need to feel you,” Coryo confessed and managed the strength to raise his head and look at her again. he was too afraid to utter the phrase i need to be inside you, feeling just too shy all of a sudden to say that. the look on his face was pure desperation, he looked like he could start crying the next moment, and y/n’s heart lurched in her chest at seeing that. seeing and recognising that she could make him as desperate as he’d made her. that she could make him small, “no one’s ever made me feel like this before,” he confessed more, breaking his own façade down, and y/n smiled at him sheepishly. she knew, of course, that what he said was true. she knew everything about him.

“you have me,” she assured him and brought him out of the confine of his boxers, making Coryo breathe in relief. he had felt so restricted in his own clothes, “but god, Coryo, will you fit? you feel too big in my hand,” y/n said shyly and bit down on her lip again, a habit that Coryo had noticed her having for quite a while now, and he looked down between them two. y/n knew her comment went straight to his growing ego, but she just couldn’t resist teasing him a little. and when he caught onto it, he looked at her again, with a smile on his lips this time. she grinned wide and giggled before she took his face in her hands and kissed his lips, as if it was her first time doing so. simple, loving, affectionate. 

suddenly she fully took in the look of his naked torso, his amazingly sculpted shoulders and arms, his pearly chest... the sight of him was so breath-taking and delicious that she nearly forgot all her other surroundings. Coryo, though the look her eyes were giving him flattered him so, took the bull by its horns again and pushed the very tip of his hard length through her folds, where her warm opening welcomed him. y/n felt a strain while Coryo felt the beginning of a true release, but he noticed her awkward expression, felt her hold on his face falter, and he paused his movements to just check in. 

“alright?” he asked quietly, as he couldn’t tell what to do next by her face, “too big for you?” he teased and it made them both smile, then erupt into mad giggles in unison. y/n would never have expected Coryo to have humour in a moment like this, but she was relieved that he did, and god did it make the whole thing easier. she wasn’t worried, wasn’t anxious anymore, wasn’t feeling insecure about any aspect of herself anymore. except the thing she’d heard that happened to most women on their first time – the bleeding, the pain, his reaction to it. those were the few things she wanted to avoid happening. but if Coryo was his sweetheart-self, then she had no bad reaction to worry about. she was glad he was the person she was doing it for the first time with, she’d really lucked out.

“just a little,” she finally answered after their giggle fit while holding each other in their arms, “try going deeper,” she urged in a hushed voice, and Coryo complied, adjusting his hips forward, slowly, not to accidentally hurt her more. he couldn’t deny how incredible this felt, how incredible she felt around him, her walls sucking him right in so tightly, “ohmygodohmygod,” y/n pushed the words out in a quick breath, feeling a burn and stretch inside of her at the size of him. she didn’t have anyone to compare Coryo to, and no one else had been inside her before, but he felt big enough. 

Coryo appreciated her arm on his back, her nails digging half-moons into his pearly skin, and her other hand splayed across his cheek, thumb almost digging a hole in his cheek. “you feel so perfect around me,” Coryo praised against her parted lips, and y/n could only look at him with strain and tears in her eyes as he inched himself further and further inside, her face changing by every inch, it seemed, until he had bottomed out with a groan and she’d only felt a momentary sting of pain. and the worst part was over—what a miracle it was that it had been so quick for her, she’d expected otherwise. Coryo could see the immediate relaxation on her features, and he smiled. 

he kissed away her fallen tears, but more kept falling from her eyes and y/n could only explain them as being happy tears, though she scolded herself for being so emotional in a meaningful moment like this. but maybe it was just right. Coryo smiled at her and she could see his orbs being glossy, too, and she was glad. it was no wonder, really, taking how shaken he was when he came into her home and sat down on her couch beside her. he was still in turmoil, but that didn’t matter now. he had her. 

“can i try... moving? you feel alright?” he asked her in a whisper. this slow thrust inside her had already felt like heaven, he couldn’t wait to repeat it over and over and over. 

y/n nodded, “yeah, go ahead,” she said and Coryo complied. she took in the feeling of him pulling out gently, slowly... teasingly. he was grinning, she saw, and she shook her head in disbelief as a beautiful smile adorned her features. and then he thrust inside her again, stuffing her walls with his great length, making her back arch and moans that she’s never made before escape her lips. he could hardly concentrate, but he didn’t want to miss all the different facial expressions she would make, the look in her eyes, while he made love to her now. he made himself keep his eyes open as he began to move rhythmically now. 

y/n’s legs wrapped around his waist, engulfing him in her more and more, and each of his thrusts earned him a squeak from her from the movements. god, he just adored her beyond measure. she was everything he needed now, and later, and forever. Coryo kissed her neck, licked at it, as he had before, and it only made her moan more, each moan in its own unique high or low pitch, and dig her fingers into whichever part of his skin she was holding. Coryo adored her touches, they turned him on, and he wanted her hands on him always, they were a lifeline. his hands gripped her waist, her sweater bunched just above them, only covering her arms and her breasts, though barely even those from how much Coryo was moving her.

“you're doing so good for me,” he breathed into her ear, and the praise only spurred her on. she clenched around him, and it made Coryo break his focus completely, his head dropping onto y/n’s chest, where he breathed hot air onto her skin, “i’m sorry, i think i’m close,” he confessed, and y/n raised his face with her hands, looking at him with puzzlement across her face. 

“me too, it’s okay,” she assured him and then took one of his hands in hers and lead it down to where their bodies met. she laid his palm over the bulge that had formed in her lower stomach from him. the sight and feel of it made Coryo groan, getting him all the more closer to his release. 

“fuck, that’s amazing,” he said into her neck, and y/n nodded.

“you’re so big, Coryo,” she complimented him again and felt his dick twitch inside her at the words, “made a bump in me,” she put it into words and it made the boy nearly lose his mind. then she guided his hand just a little lower and pressed his hand onto her clit, where he recalled was her most vulnerable point, “come on, touch me. we’ll do it together,” she urged him on in the sweetest of angel voices and Coryo didn’t need to think twice before complying. he loved her ordering him around a little, it was much needed tonight especially. 

he pressed his thumb against her clit as his hips had nearly reached their fastest pace, and watched as her face twisted in pleasure. eyes shutting, lips spasming, closing, opening, teeth biting, voice singing out to him. “oh, Coryo,” she called his name and he felt it go straight to his heart. there wasn’t much more that he needed in order to come now, and he prided in himself for lasting so long at all, all the while feeling a little ashamed about it. he wanted this to last longer. but since he could tell she was coming, too, his thumb drawing harsh circles on her clit to bring it on, he revelled in them both finishing at once. 

“fuuuck, y/n, i love you,” he whimpered into her ear as he spilled himself inside her tightly-squeezing walls while y/n all but chanted his nickname like a mantra. her hands almost drew blood on his back from how tightly she held onto him, and she shuddered around him at the feeling of her own release coating his entire length. her thighs trembled and she panted heavy breaths against his neck. she’d almost missed his quiet confession, she’d actually heard it amidst their joined euphoria, but she had thought it a hallucination. 

but that assumption dissipated as she came to and looked up at Coryo, whose eyes were worriedly, with tears streaming from them, looking down at her. she quickly moved her hands to his cheeks and tried to sit up in their awkward position. best she could do was position herself higher on her pillow against the sofa’s armrest, and she gulped. “you love me?” she echoed in the smallest of voices, searching his eyes. they were worried, fearful. what if he’d said the wrong thing? what if she felt different about him, different than what he felt about her? what if he’d said it too soon? what if he’d just ruined all this with her? 

but he did love her. he was sure of it. so he nodded, his curls bouncing with the confirming movement. y/n ran her hand over them and smiled wide at him. 

“you love me,” she said again, surely this time, in a happy tone of voice. as if she’d discovered the best, most well-wishing secret in the whole world. and perhaps that’s what it was. her favourite secret about Coryo was that she knew he loved her, “i love you, too,” y/n told him before he could assume otherwise, and kissed his trembling lips. Coryo felt on top of the world. he had said the right thing, he’d played his cards right, he’d told her how he felt. of course, his actions spoke volumes, but hearing him say it in words meant the world to y/n. 

“thank god, you had me worried there for a bit,��� Coryo half-joked between their kisses, and it made her laugh. she pulled back from his lips and admired the boy above her. forehead glistening from sweat in the dim lighting, curls messily falling over his beautiful face, his pearly chest rising and falling with each heavy breath he took. 

“who would i be without a little suspense, huh?” she asked and smiled at him again. she could see complete love and devotion in his eyes, two things she’d seen on his face only partly or half-meant before, and only towards herself. Coryo used the moment of silence to pull out of her and stuff himself back into his trousers. sitting against the sofa cushions to do it, he glanced at her cunt and saw it leaking with his white substance. y/n looked at him with sultry eyes and her teeth biting her lower lip, arms crossed over her chest, and she spread her legs just a little further to tease him with a wider look, “like what you see?” she asked quietly.

he just gave her eyes of total surrender, he was waving the white flag for giving up and he took a deep breath. y/n giggled as Coryo shook his head in disbelief and lowered his face down to her center, once again giving her anticipation. “you look so pretty,” he complimented and ran a finger through her folds, making her shudder as more of the snow-white liquid pooled out and coated her cunt, “pretty with me dripping out of you,” Coryo sneaked a glance up at her and saw the clear-as-day lust in her eyes. feeling that animalistic urge take over him again, he brought out his tongue and lapped up each drop coming out of her. y/n felt sensitive, sore, and Coryo was giving her a mix of both pleasure and pain as he drank at her. she had him right where she wanted him. the question was – would he stay there? 

his tongue prodded at her entrance just a tad, heightening her sensitivity, and he moaned against her folds at her shudder under him, giving her folds a kiss over once he was done. he wanted to leave most of his spill inside her, only having lapped up and gulped down what was excess. sitting up before her, between her legs, Coryo licked his lips and leaned over her form. y/n pulled him in for a kiss, and could taste something salty and something sweet all at once on his lips and tongue. it was both of them. 

“will you please stay?” y/n asked her in her small voice again, looking into Coryo’s eyes. she hoped to not find any resistance or decline, and her hopes were fulfilled. “please,” she plead more as he teased her with his silence. he nodded, and it made her smile wider than ever. he would stay over, like he promised her he would someday. it meant he didn't view her only as a secret anymore. maybe they could even go to Heavensbee hall tomorrow together, maybe hand in hand... “why did you say sorry? about being close?” she reminded him of the few moments before their euphorias. Coryo bent his head low for a moment. 

“just felt embarrassed,” he answered, “about not lasting long. i just... i just wanted this to last longer for you,” he told her and managed to look at her again. y/n made a comforting face and stroked the side of his face. she understood. 

“yeah, but it’s okay,” she assured him, “there will be other times,” she pointed out and laid a kiss to his cheek, “it was your first time, so please don’t worry your beautiful head over it.” Coryo managed a ghost of a smile just for y/n to kiss him and make his smile more life-like. “you did good, Coryo.” those words of praise went straight to his dick again, and he blushed. she had made him blush. y/n giggled. 

“you did great, too,” Coryo told her and kissed her hair, “thank you. i never would have wanted to do this with anyone else but you,” he confessed as they held tight eye contact. y/n’s heart surged at his words. 

“me too. i’m glad it was you,” she said and it made Coryo smile with shut lips, “now, can i get my underwear back?” she’d made a joke again, and Coryo felt like playing along further. 

“no, i’m keeping it,” he said in a hushed voice, shaking his head and y/n made a playful pout. she’d want to make him think he could keep it and that she’d steal it back later, but she couldn’t. Coryo having her underwear in the pocket of his academy trousers made her feel somehow proud. a piece of her with him wherever he goes. and if he went home and stashed them somewhere in his wardrobe cabinet, that would be fine, too. she loved knowing her underwear was a token for him. 

she only said, “alright,” and took his hand in hers, “let’s go shower and then to bed. you’ve exhausted me.” she admitted and Coryo took it as a compliment. he wanted this treacherous-turned-great day to end, too, and she was the cherry on top of it all. he wouldn’t have gone home tonight for anything. 

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[heliads]

I love you writing and I was hoping you could write Ben Florian x VK!Reader the reader is Lefou's kid. A soulmate AU where the negative things you think about yourself are marked on your soulmate's skin. Reader only has one or two things because Ben is from Auradon and has a good life and family. While Ben has around half a dozen. Reader is the one who gives Ben the love potion. During the lake scene they notice Ben is their soulmate and tries (but fails) to hide it thinking he deserves better

masterlist

There really is no good place for a prince. They are political figureheads in every sense of the phrase— too young to actually rule, too old to be allowed to skip state functions. They sit in corners of expensive meetings and cut ribbons in front of newly opened buildings, but they can’t do a whole lot except smile and pose. 

Shame your friend seems so fixated on capturing one, then. It feels like you’ve just barely left the Isle of the Lost, only bid farewell to the entirety of your prior life experience hours ago, and yet already Mal is scheming about how to best tear down everything around you. If Prince Ben is the best way to fulfill her nefarious plans, then so be it.

The only problem is that you’re now involved in all of this, too. Mal wants a wand and so she’ll take a prince to get there, but as one of her best friends, you’ve been drafted into the plot to catch a prince. Ben won’t have any idea what’s coming. Shame, he would probably run if he had any clue.

Mal’s good at covering her tracks, though, she always has been. You can remember elaborate plans from when you were much younger to steal cookies or cloaks, spellbooks and shoes. At this point, hearing Mal tell you that she’s going to bewitch the crown prince of Auradon into falling in love with her shouldn’t surprise you, just the fact that she’s taken this long to come up with the idea.

Usually, you have no problem going along with Mal’s little adventures. They’re entertaining, at the least, a good way to pass a few days when you’ve already gone over every alleyway and hiding place on the Isle at least a dozen times in the last month. The issue is that you’re not on the Isle anymore, and maybe– just maybe– disrupting everything here isn’t entirely what you want to do.

Mal doesn’t know this, of course. None of your fellow VKs do. Every time they monologue and moan about how they can’t wait to get out of this place, you find yourself holding your tongue, biting back your real thoughts about how the school isn’t actually as bad as you feared. Sure, the constant judgment from the other children of princes and princesses isn’t all that fun, but Auradon Prep has its positives, too. For one thing, you think your soulmate might be here.

What a terrible thing for the child of a villain to prioritize. You’ve heard Mal scoff at the idea of a soulmate, and although Evie is certainly more interested in the idea than some of your other friends, you’re still not sure that you’d find a welcome audience amongst their ranks when it comes to tracking down your soulmate. After all, the odds of that soulmate being from Auradon and not the Isle are pretty high. They’ve all but told you that themselves.

All things considered, for a society with such control over magic and spells, it’s pretty difficult to find your soulmate. You’d always wondered why those in charge couldn’t shorten the whole affair to something more simple– a name on the wrist, perhaps, or an invisible string that only the two of you could see– but instead, soulmate magic went the complicated route. How lovely.

The story about the origin of the soulmate magic is convoluted and ancient, going back generations and changing with each family. The general consensus is that soulmates were created to preserve the sanctity of true love, with the idea that soulmates should be able to love each other entirely, flaws and all. So, when you think something negative about yourself, those very same thoughts will show up on the skin of your soulmate, something like a warning label for what they’re going to get themselves into.

This is all well and good for people with few negative thoughts, maybe they’ll have something here and there about a bad sports result or a poor test grade that their soulmate can chuckle over before meeting them. For you, though? You, the child of a villain, cursed to live forever on a too-small island with the other convicts and criminals, you have had more fears and hated things about yourself than most. Your soulmate must be covered in unhappy musings, which only makes you feel worse about yourself than before. A self-perpetuating cycle of the worst kind.

By contrast, the startling absence of your soulmate’s negative thoughts on your own skin makes you certain that they couldn’t be from the Isle of the Lost. There are only one or two fears on your skin, proof of loving parents and a stable home, and they’re minor things like a bad hair day or a fear of not doing their absolute best. These change, often leaving every few months to be replaced by something else insignificant.

What makes you most certain that your soulmate is the child of a royal is the one negative thought that has stayed on your skin since the very beginning. Your soulmate, whoever they are, is terrified that they will let down the king and queen. Only someone with close ties to the royalty could have such a fear, so it’s proof that your soulmate is somewhere here on Auradon.

So maybe you don’t want to leave this place, not yet. Not until you can learn who your soulmate is. It’ll be almost impossible to track them down on this information alone, but supposedly that’s how the whole thing is supposed to work. You learn about the worst parts of your soulmate, and then you get to love the best of them. The only problem is that you’re fairly sure that if your soulmate is a royal, they won’t want to love you at all.

It’s easier to ignore the whole affair. Easier to agree to Mal’s plan when she proposes enchanting Prince Ben. At least another one of your friend’s schemes will keep your mind off the soulmate affair.

That’s what you tell yourself, at least, but your conscience is starting to get steadily more vocal as the days go by. Ben is a nice guy, which hurts, surprisingly. Although the love spell may have been cast on Mal, as one of Mal’s closest friends, you’re around the two of them all the time. The boy you see is someone that you wish could be your soulmate. He may be a prince, and you may be a villain, but he makes you want to believe in love after all.

You certainly have the capacity for such musings. For some reason, the love spell didn’t take all that well, and although Ben is now compelled to stay with Mal more than he was before, it’s not like he’s totally obsessed with her as Mal had hoped. Mal claims it’s because love spells can never work fully due to the soulmate issue, like having a soulmate is a kind of shield to protect you against that sort of enchantment, but regardless, Ben has just enough independent thought that he can tell you jokes and try to make you smile like– well, like he tries to do with Mal.

The realization that Ben is a genuinely good person, and worse, someone you don’t want to trick, haunts you as you fall further into Mal’s scheme. You’ve been trying to push the whole thing from your mind, letting Ben join your soulmate in the depths of your mind you don’t want to touch, but your train of thought keeps circling back to him despite your best attempts otherwise.

Besides, it doesn’t help that Mal keeps trying to involve you in the plot. Right now, the two of them are at the Enchanted Lake, out on a cute little date. Mal had been making mock disgusted faces at you the whole time she was getting ready, but some part of yourself can’t stop whispering that this doesn’t seem so bad, actually, that the thought of being out here alone with Ben would make for a wonderful day instead of the tedious chore Mal is making it out to be.

Ben doesn’t know you’re here, though. Mal wanted backup in case something happened, so you’re lingering in the woods to keep anyone from stumbling upon the scene and also holding onto more magical baked goods in case Mal feels the need to renew the spell. It’s kind of like torture, strolling through this beautiful forest, knowing that Ben is so close and you are helping hold him under the thrall of this plot.

The storm in your mind must be thundering too loudly for you to think straight, because you lose track of yourself and accidentally walk too close to the lake. You weren’t supposed to be spotted, but before you can back away and melt back into the foliage, Ben looks up and sees you. You panic, immediately heading the way you’d come, but you hear footsteps after you moments later and Ben manages to track you down before you can go too far. Mal is so going to kill you for messing with her plan.

“Sorry,” you murmur, eyes wide when he finally catches up to you, “I didn’t realize the two of you were– I’ll go now.”

Ben shakes his head. “No, no, it’s alright. It’s not like we have a monopoly on the woods.”

He’s dripping water, most likely due to a recent dip in the lake, and you can’t seem to stop your gaze from following the path of the droplets as they cascade down his shoulders, across his hands, and, most importantly of all, over the swooping letters of the fears of his soulmates. 

Usually, Ben wears long sleeves or something else to hide them. You can see why now– there are many of them, many more than you, perhaps half a dozen in all. You can’t read all of them from where you’re standing, just snippets about how a villain’s kid shouldn’t have a soulmate, how they’ll never amount to much, things like that. Things like what you’ve been thinking recently.

Ben must catch on to your train of thought, because he smiles weakly, absentmindedly scratching at a sentence proclaiming that his soulmate isn’t worth the good luck they get. “Yeah, my soulmate’s a little stressed, I guess. Hopefully, I can talk about that with them soon. I want them to know that they’re worth it, wherever they are.”

It had never occurred to you that hating yourself would make your soulmate this obsessed. You have no proof that Ben is your soulmate but– 

But, as you watch, you can see a new fear appearing out of nowhere, wrapping itself around Ben’s left wrist. I’m not good enough for a soulmate this good. Just what you were thinking mere moments ago. It’s like proof.

Ben looks up slowly, and although you were never blessed with the ability to read minds, you swear you can tell exactly what he’s thinking right now. “Are you–” he starts, ends, tries again, “Do you know who your soulmate is?”

You can do several things at this moment. You can confirm what you’re mostly sure is true, you can lie, you can pretend you hadn’t heard him. You spot movement in the trees behind him, a flash of purple, and remember belatedly that Mal is still somewhere at the Enchanted Lake, waiting for Ben to come back and wondering why you’re holding him here for so long.

All of a sudden, the reality of the situation comes crashing down around your shoulders. This is not something that can happen. Ben is a prince. You are the child of a villain, and the friend of another VK who’s counting on you to continue fooling Ben so she can pursue her latest mad plan. There is no world in which this works out.

So, you force a smile, banishing all thoughts back into the deep recesses of your brain once more. “No,” you say, “I don’t know. I think they’re a VK, though.”

Ben’s face falls in a flash. “Really? Because I thought–”

You shake your head quickly. “I don’t– it’s not me. I think Mal is waiting for you, though. You shouldn’t keep her for long.”

Ben glances back over his shoulder in memory of the girl he’s left somewhere in the woods behind him, and when he looks back, you’re gone. You’re good at running. It’s a skill you’ve perfected over the years. You just never thought you’d have to use it now.

Prince Ben is your soulmate. Impossible. True. Mal comes back later that afternoon, tells you the date went splendidly despite your accidental intrusion. Ben must not have let the brief moment in the woods faze him for long. It hurts more than you care to admit.

There is only so much running a VK can do, try as they might to pretend otherwise. You avoid Ben at all costs, hoping that whatever foolish war is currently being fought inside your heart will come to a tolerable ceasefire if you just ignore it long enough. Mal tells you that the plan is going swimmingly, she’s never seen the prince more excited about the VKs and the upcoming coronation. You nod and smile and tell her that you’re glad everything is going to plan, but inside, you cannot seem to stop your mind from screaming. 

And then, all of a sudden, despite your best attempts to remain out of sight, Prince Ben finds you. It’s completely out of the blue, so casual that you almost don’t realize it’s happening until he’s sitting down at your table in the library and it’s too late to run. 

You feel like an animal caught in a trap. He’s just smiling like nothing is the matter. “I know it’s you,” he says by way of hello. 

Your heart is stuck in your throat. “What?”

“I know it’s you,” Ben repeats, “I know you’re my soulmate. I had the Fairy Godmother do a little spell so I could check for you, but I think I knew since that day at the lake.”

You frown. “You can do that?”

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. “Not everyone can, I think. But I, uh, insisted.”

You grin. “Prince privileges?”

“Something like that.” He’s smiling, though, maybe pleased that you’re not trying to run off this time. “But you knew even without the spell, didn’t you?”

That does shake your uncertain sense of calm. “Yes,” you admit, “but I didn’t think you— I didn’t think it would work out.”

The look on Ben’s face is genuinely heartbreaking. “What, just because I’m a prince?”

He says it so casually, it’s almost funny. “Yes, Ben, because you’re a prince and I’m a VK. I mean, my dad was Lefou. He literally tried to ruin the happy ever after of your parents, why would you want someone like me to be your soulmate?”

“Same reason you shouldn’t be afraid to want me. You’re not your father, Y/N, and I’m not my parents. We’re just us, and I know that I want you to be my soulmate. I have since the start. I was hoping you would tell me you knew, but after a few days went by and you still said nothing, I figured I had to take matters into my own hands. Even if that meant using a spell or two.”

You keep waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to laugh in your face and tell you it’s ridiculous to think that he would ever want a VK as a soulmate, but he doesn’t. In fact, you don’t think he ever will. As impossible as it seems, Ben wants someone who isn’t from a perfect fairy tale. He wants you. And that, lovely and wonderful and absolutely crazy, sounds like a fairly good happily ever after for you. 

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @mayfieldss, @eclliipsed

[cursingtoji]

𓆩𖥟𓆪 𝐒𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐑 — Geto is a thoughtful leader who uses visual resources to help his followers learn, and tonight you get to play a part. #Cult-tober.

< Part 1 - Contradiction

— cw: religious imagery but no specific religion, exhibitionism, emotional manipulation, god complex, public nudity, fingering, unprotected, oral (f -> m), sex cult behaviour. 3k words.

— note: did my research on cults for this one, also based on this request.

“Come here” you hear his voice after calling your name, the tone gives you chills.

You know better than to fear him, this is not the first time he calls you to the main room of the temple — a place that has become the closest thing you can call a home now. This room in particular is already very known to you, so why the fear? Can’t you remember the familiar feeling of the tatami under your knees? What about against your cheek? Wasn’t worth the pain of having your face rubbing on it while your master roughly thrusted into your behind? You do recall his pitiful smile when he realized what the mat had done to the soft skin of your face, right? He kissed it so tenderly while holding you like you were made of glass, a glass he didn’t mind breaking a few minutes prior to that, but now, glass.

So what’s wrong now?

Except for the dozens of followers sitting on their knees in that same room right now. How come you never saw that many people before? And more importantly, why are you seeing them now?

A few hours ago, he left you two things along with a note with the time and place you had to be. Those things are: a sheer black lace mask, very delicate fabric meant for your eyes, the type of thing you could picture a woman using in a ball in the 1800s, and a yukata, a simple one. You thought it was weird he didn’t leave an obi — the belt to tie up the yukata, so you took one from your own drawer to complete the traditional piece.

The mask is clearly not part of it, but you know better than to question him. Besides, the note is clear, you must wear nothing but those things. Nothing.

The room you thought you knew now seems strange and gloomy, it’s nighttime so there’s only a few candles lightening it up, there’s an essence burning somewhere the smell is weak but it’s there.

Geto in all his glory sits in his altar, his feet are up in the mat, unlike everyone else sitting on their legs. He has the pose of a deity and clearly that is what everyone thinks too.

Your bare feet touch the tatami, slowly approaching the altar and feeling the dozen pairs of eyes upon you, the offsetting lighting doesn't allow you to see their faces, which is probably for the best, yet Geto’s was lit up as if the sun itself rose for him and him only.

“Look at her, when I met her she was sick, this beautiful lady had a disease. I tried to look away, she was too far gone, but what did I do instead, sweet child?”

“You saved my life” you respond without batting an eye, your mind feels cloudy.

“Kneel” you obey taking place beside him.

Maybe he is a deity after all.

Just that day you were having a conversation with the twins. They had so many questions, especially after seeing you hurt by some curse, so many why’s leaving their little mouths.

“It doesn’t matter!” your voice rose for the first time since taking them in your embrace “If Geto-sama says it’s day and the sky is dark, it’s day. If he says it’s night when you can see the sun, you go to bed because you sleep when it’s night, understood?”

Sometimes you barely recognize the voice that leaves your lips. Scolding is something you never saw yourself doing, not to the girls you loved more than anything.

In your situation one would assume this behavior is driven by fear, what would Geto do if he found out your girls were questioning his actions? They cannot possibly care more about this non-sorcerer in front of them. Never.

But those people would be wrong. Fear does make you do what you do. Love does.

Only love makes you stay put in front of him when he unties your yukata, love has you looking him in the eye even while the disapproval for the presence of the obi is evident.

Geto makes you sit facing him, his stunning image much more welcoming than the unlighted audience, he’s big enough for you to understand can still see the quiet crowd behind you. His calloused hands touch your shoulders under the yukata, the soft touch is enough to warm up your entire body as he slowly revells a skin decorated by some few bruises, some caused by curses, some caused by gods, well… one god.

“She’s still not cured, I don’t know if she’ll ever be” he doesn’t have to project his voice too much in the quiet room, the hot breathing fans over your face, “But I’ll keep trying nevertheless” he says more quietly.

Geto’s hand goes between your legs and you have trouble keeping your sounds to yourself. His hand is big, and the space between your closed legs — while you’re still sitting on them — and your core is narrow, Geto has to be a little rough to get where he wants to.

And he always gets what he wants.

Your face is warm, breathing erratically but still… you’re not panicking even given the disturbing setting. It’s all due to him, if it was anyone else you would be screaming right now, fighting your way out of this.

Geto starts to stroke your folds with his fingers while talking about sins, the best thing you can do is shut your little brain from overthinking everything he says and taking it as personal.

However, what is left to do when he keeps going on and on about undeserving ones while teasing your fluttering hole? You can’t even look him in the eye, just keep staring his throat as he speaks. Your gasp interrupts him when he inserts a finger, both your hands to your mouth, you were distracted enough to forget this was obviously the next step.

Geto snaps his eyes back to you, not glad about the interruption, yet he resumes his speech so he can go on with his plans.

Your hands remain on your closed mouth, not wanting to make the same mistake again. Geto adds another finger and starts scissoring you, which worries you slightly, you thought this was merely a play for the followers, an exhibition of power, but the stretching he’s doing indicates he plans to go all the way. That and the erection under his haori, which you should’ve led you to suspect his intentions from the beginning since he’s never presented himself to his followers without all the layers of his traditional clothing.

Geto removes his fingers, straightening his posture as he finishes his sentence, he pats his lap and you find his eyes, they are predatory, from then on you’re dealing with Geto-sama, not Suguru.

You’re already undoing the ropes that tie his haori just like he did to you a few minutes ago. He’s bare under the fabric, dick is tall and hard, the leaking tip shines under the orange glow of the candlelight as you align it with your entrance.

“If you can’t control your urges, they’ll control you” he claims, hands behind your knees, his voice is steady but the grip he has on you tells it’s hard to control himself too.

“No person or thing should control you… except for me” the last part is whispered for your ears only. You bottom out on him, needing a moment to recover, not just from the stretch on your lower half but from his words and by how willing you are to let him control you.

Especially when he puts his hand on your head, pressuring slightly guiding you to his neck. He keeps his hand there, caressing your hair as you relax on his hold, like he’s comforting someone who's just lost a dear relative, not a simple villager he spared and is now balls deep inside dozens of followers.

With a sharp pinch on your thigh Geto signs you to start moving, you arch your back and raise your hips to slide out of his cock till only the tip is left then sitting back. Since the yukata was not fully removed, it stays on you, sleeves pooling on the middle of your arms, the rest serves as a curtain, keeping the audience from viewing the junction of you and your savior.

You busy your mouth by kissing and sucking his neck, he gives your hair a discreet pull, a warning to not mark him, guess it would be bad for his reputation if his beloved sorcerers find out he’s whipped by a good-for-nothing human.

All they know — as far as Geto is concerned —, is that you’re his little pet, kind of a 3 for the price of 2 after he took in the twins, a package deal he simply had to accept.

Whatever, you don’t care about them anyways. As long as they’re treating your girls as one of their own, it doesn’t matter how they treat you. Geto, Mimiko and Nanako are all you need to be content with your life.

Geto should limit himself from touching you, his fingers shouldn’t be tracing the little marks and scratches on your back.

“You are not perfect, mistakes will happen, that’s why you need someone to guide you” he talks to the audience, his chin resting on your shoulders as the tip of his fingers run over each trauma and imperfections on your back. At this point — with his dick reaching such a sweet spot inside your walls —, you are not sure if he’s still indirectly talking to you, but something makes you think he’s talking to himself, about you.

Is it such a delusional thought? That you are the one guiding him and not the other way around? You thighs clench around him, the awkward feeling in your chest start to bring clarity to your pleasure blurred mind and you start to look around reflecting on your situation.

Geto relizes something switched in your dumb little head, you do that sometimes, look around with wide eyes and heavy breathing. Suguru remembers the days in jujutsu tech, when he was confused, consumed by the trauma and unsure about his future. Why did you make him remember that? Your chest is rising rapidly, he doesn’t want you to panic, that’s not supposed to happen under his watch.

You’re taken from his lap.

“You love me, don’t you?” Suguru holds your chin bringing your focus to him, only him. You nod slowly, admiring his sculpted face by the candlelight, “Then what are you afraid of?”

You search your mind for all the reasons to be afraid right now, shouldn’t be hard, all you need is to look around and remember why you’re here.

Yet his hazel eyes don’t allow you to find any of those reasons, somehow your heart doesn’t feel so heavy anymore.

“Don’t you trust me?” he rubs your chin and you nod again, “Show me” you blink confusingly, “Show me how much you love me.”

You’re sitting on your knees as your eyes trail down where his member is still hard, it glistens with your juices and throbs slightly, the sight is too irresistible.

So you bow to your savior, taking him fully into your mouth, the position giving the closest thing to a privacy moment, where you could pretend it’s just you and Suguru like in the late nights in his chamber.

“There you go” he sighs happily patting your head, not putting any pressure, like what you’re doing is not sexual at all.

It’s merely a form of adoration. And Geto deserves being adored.

Naturally, you take him as deep as you possibly can, focusing your best in worshiping every inch of his skin, putting as much love into it as you can, not even minding the emptiness on your lower half or how you’re dripping on the mat.

There’s a buzz in your ear, you know Geto is talking, finishing his speech probably, but you can’t actually hear him, feels like hearing someone talking from a distance.

The last thing you remember is the hot shot on the back of your throat and the member twitching in your mouth. You think you heard Geto moan, which brings a weird feeling in your stomach since, as far as you know, you’re supposed to be the only one to hear that. His thumb goes to your chin, whipping the saliva and cum, pushing you to release him, you do, but you keep kissing his soft length until the smell of him mixed with the candles and something only this room had made you black out.

Phenomenal.

A word that resumes what Geto thinks about your performance tonight. If he gave you a script it wouldn’t have played out so perfectly.

Sometimes Geto underestimates how willing you are to be controlled by him.

When everything is done, he takes you into his arms, after wrapping the Yukata back around your body, he raises to his feet and steps down from his small stage carrying you.

There’s a door behind the stage, passing the curtains, which he usually uses as entrance and exit. Yet that night he feels like walking through the audience, with a pretty little thing unconscious on his mighty arms and a bunch of loyal followers bowing on his feet he experiences being, truly, a god.

[luvendiary]

3 times hiccup asked you to marry him + the time you realized he meant it

hello! this was an early draft for this request: Hello!!! Imagine hiccup telling reader "I'm in love with you" / "Marry me" out of blue after a stare down (can be established relationship or not muahahaha) I like how this turned out, except for the ending. it's sort of shitty in my opinion. also, this isn't proofread. and sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. feel free to point them out. also, there’s a slight corpse bride reference with the vows!! as always, thank you for reading. let me know what you think and if you'd like more of this. requests are always open!

1.

Snoggletog was one of your favorite festivities. The beautiful coat of snow that hugged the soil, and the way the sunlight softly reflected on it was perfect to you. You loved to see how vikings busied themselves by hanging up ornaments and mistletoe on the doors. You loved hearing the out-of-tune carols that echoed across Berk. And you loved the late cold nights as you and the dragon riders sat around a warm fire and talked about the day’s happenings.

One thing you did not love though, was the Snoggletog play, specially because it had been assigned to you all this year. It was the dragon riders’ responsibility to plan, organize and act it out the day of Snoggletog.

“What about the start of dragon races?” Snoutlout suggested.

“They did that two years ago,” Astrid replied as she sharpened her axe.

“We could do Loki-”

“We’re not doing Loki day Tuffnut,” Hiccup interrupted him.

A moment of silence passed amongst all of you.

“What if, we make a reenactment of Odin and Freya’s marriage? How they stopped the Aesir and Vanir war,” you said while nibbling on your thumb.

“That could work,” Fishlegs said.

“I like it, we could even get the dragons in on this,” Astrid suggested.

“Of course, brilliant idea (Y/N),” Snotlout said as he stood up with a cocky attitude. “Specially because I would make the perfect Odin.” He flexed his muscles and stroke a victorious pose.

You chuckled and pushed him away, “Sit down Snotlout. I was actually thinking that Astrid and Fishlegs could be Freya and Odin.”

“Oh no,” Astrid said immediately. “I’m not good at performing. Plus, you gave the idea, you should be Freya.”

“Alright,” you said. “If no one else is up for it, I’ll be Freya. Fishlegs, are you ok with being Odin?”

“Ye-” his reply was interrupted by Astrid elbowing him. “I mean, I wish I could but…I-I don’t like performing.”

“What but you love perfor-?”

“Hiccup! Why aren’t you Odin?!” Astrid chimed in as she placed her arm around your shoulder while the other went around the brunette-boy’s shoulders.

“Uh…I-I guess,” Hiccup said.

Astrid grinned while looking at you, “Great! It’s settled then!”

“Why would you do that?!” you shrieked as you pressed the palm of your hands to your eyes.

Astrid, who sat next to you overlooking Berk from a nearby cliff, shrugged, “Oh I don’t know. Maybe because I’m tired of you two beating around the bush. Why don’t you kiss already? It’s obvious you want to.”

“Shut up Astrid,” you said while sitting up. You rubbed your hands together to provide some heat to your body. “I’m not even sure if he likes me.”

“You’re as blind as Gothi is mute,” she replied.

“How can you be so sure? Has he said anything about me?”

“You’re hopeless Y/N.”

The days went by, and Snoggletog drew closer and closer. Right after training, you went to rehearsals, and while most of it went by in fits of laughter and jokes, you all managed to build a production. You often tended to practice with Hiccup, since you had the most line together, and it gave you an excuse to spend more time with him. During this period, you had managed to gain some small victories in the love department, holding his hand, dancing with him, and hearing him laugh while you acted out some of your scenes being some. However, there was something you both had been avoiding: the marriage kiss. It made your heart flutter and your stomach swarm with butterflies every time you though about the possibility of kissing him; on the other hand, it also felt like Gronkle iron swishing around your intestines. What if he didn’t want to kiss you? What if he just did it out of pity?

Your mind was plagued with questions up until the big day.

“Good luck,” Astrid said while she gave you a knowing look. She was looking forward to the kiss, and if what she had told you was true, all of the dragon riders were too.

The play started out good, Snotlout and Tuffnut played the Aesir family, while Ruffnut and Fishlegs played the Vanir.

The scene changed and the Aesir were complaining with Hiccup about how Freya’s magic and her help towards the Vanir was the reason for their shortcomings.

I was then your time to appear. After several attempts from the Aesir to try to kill Freya, you and Odin came to an agreement: you were to marry each other.

“Marry me,” said Hiccup. And as you looked into his eyes your breath hitched. He had a smile plastered on his face, and his eyes gleamed.

“I will marry you,” you replied as you offered him your hand and he put the ring on your nuptial finger.

The scene was supposed to end there, you were about to take a step backwards so that the actual marriage scene could take place, however you felt a hand wrap around your wrist, and before you knew it you were being kissed. You were being kissed by Hiccup Haddock.

Your shock was palpable, however you dissolved into the kiss once the initial incredulity had passed. Once Hiccup felt the kiss was reciprocal, he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you closer.

2 .

Dragon racing was a hefty sport. Ever since it was created, it became a fan favorite amongst Berkians. Once every full moon, a match was held that was sure to be the talk of the town for at least a week. On summer and winter solstice, you held the dragon riding tournament, that usually lasted for about a week; except for that one time when the black sheep had wondered deep into the woods, and you weren’t able to find it for two days.

Point of the matter is, dragon racing was a serious issue for vikings. And that’s why victories where celebrated so grandly. You never particularly cared for the celebrations, however wining was important to you; your usually carefree nature was irrecognizable when it came to the sport as you became a furiously competitive rider. This change, spared no one. Not even your boyfriend.

“Incoming!” you called out before snatching the black sheep from Hiccup’s arms, as you held on with your legs to (Y/D)’s saddle while she flew in an upside down position.

“Hey!” he shouted in response with a light chuckle.

“I wish I could say I’m sorry, but I’m not!” you replied with a shit-eating grin directed his way. With the black sheep secure in your arms, you flew away, not a hint of remorse visible on your face.

You returned to your upright position and quickly flew up to your basket and threw in the black sheep. As soon as you do so, you hear the crowds cheers and applause mixed with the blow of the horn, signaling that the match has ended.

Astrid joined you on the platform, followed by Ruff, as they cheered you on and celebrated your team victory.

Hiccup watched you, still mounted on Toothless with a lovesick smile present in his features, “I’m going to marry her,” he said as he took in your beautiful smile.

“I don’t think you’re her type,” said a voice next to him. Tuffnutt flew next to him with a pissed expression -probably because of their defeat- “but go for it. I’m sure my sister would be flattered.”

3 .

“Do you think there are other people out there?” you asked as you stared blankly at the stars. “I mean, besides us dragon riders and dragon hunters. Do you think that maybe there’s another civilization that has been familiar with dragons long before us?”

You heard Hiccup chuckle, “Possibly, maybe they even know of species we have yet to discover.”

“I wonder if they maybe think the same of us. Maybe we’re some strange advanced civilization to them”, you said with a light giggle as your thoughts went wild with the idea of the unknown. “Or maybe, we’re cavemen in comparison to their civilization. Maybe…they know about our existence, and they have just decided to leave us alone because we’re not worth their time.”

“That’s a bit depressing isn’t it?” Hiccup asked, humored by your rambling.

“I don’t think so. I think it’s exciting…” you said slightly breathless as you stared at the vast abyss of twinkling lights that spread above you and beyond. “Just imagine everything we’ve yet to discover.”

You faintly heard the huffs and growls of your dragons, who were entertained by Hiccup’s prosthetic leg as they fought each other for it.

Hiccup allowed himself to steal a glance at you for a fraction of a second. He thought that the view in front of you was beautiful, but to him, the real wonder was sitting right next to him. You looked breathtaking with the starry abyss reflected in your eyes. Yet, you were so unaware of it.

“Marry me.”

He didn’t mean to actually say it. But he just couldn’t control himself when he was with you.

Your trance was broken and you stared at him wide eyed, in disbelief at what he had just said. However as soon as you saw his expression mirroring yours, you burst out laughing. You couldn’t say truthfully that you had never though about marriage, especially with Hiccup.

Hiccup’s startled expression morphed into confusion.”W-What? Why are you laughing?”

“Are you sure you want to marry me?” you asked in between giggles. “You don’t seem very sure.”

“What? Y-Yes! Of course I’m sure! Why wouldn’t I want to marry you?” his eyebrows furrowed in the way you loved. The way that told you you had successfully managed to get in his head. He had turned his body so that it was now mirroring yours, and his shoulders were raising up and down as they usually did when he was trying to explain something or defend a point.

“Fine then. I’ll marry you.”

His rambling stopped immediately. “What? Y-You will?”

You shrugged your shoulders nonchalantly. “Sure. Why not?”

You stood up then as you walked around the small island you had stumbled upon earlier that day. Leaving a very flustered and confused Hiccup behind.

“Wait! Where are you going?” he called after you as he struggled to get up. He rambled on as he chased you, asking about arrangements and other things.

“Aha!” you said victoriously as you crouched down over a patch of grass with some wildflowers sprouting out.

Hiccup peered over your shoulder, trying to see what you were doing.

Eventually you stood up and extended your hand towards him. He stared at you blankly for a moment, and muttered to himself, tryin to understand your actions. Still, an amused smile was present on his face.

“Well?” you said after a bit. “Give me your hand.”

He did as you instructed, and then you took out your other hand from behind, which gently held a blade of grass along with some small wildflowers intertwined with each other, forming a ring.

“I know it’s not the best craftsmanship, but I figured we couldn’t get married without rings,” you explained with a soft giggle.

Hiccup grinned down at you, and laughed incredulously. He wondered how he ever got you to agree to be his. “I’m afraid to tell you dearest, but I don’t have a ring for you.”

You sighed mockingly and rolled your eyes. “I know that. I assumed you would be too in your head about your future duty as chief and the dragons to think about me.”

“Hey!” he protested immediately. “I’m always thinking about you-”

“But worry not!” you said as you giggled playfully. “Since I know you well enough to be married, I know you well enough to be prepared for our wedding.” You reached into one of your pockets and puled out and identical ring, which he gently grabbed.

He stared down at you, with a skeptical expression.

“Well, go on with it. Do you want to marry me or not?” you asked as you tilted your head slightly to the side.

Hiccup sighed and then locked his eyes with yours. “I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock, the Third, make this oath. With this hand I will lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine. With this candle, I will light your way in darkness. With this ring, I ask you to be mine."

Once the traditional vows were finished he gently took your hand and slid the delicate ring onto your nuptial finger.

You watched with a smile as he carefully placed it, and once he was done, you repeated the vows and slid his ring onto his own finger.

With your ceremony done, your lips met in a gentle and warm dance. You felt as his hands slid down your back and rested on your hips, holding your body closer to his.

“This is the second time we’ve been married now,” he whispered as he broke apart form the kiss,

“How scandalous,” you whispered back with a soft laugh, as you remembered the Snoggletog performance and how it ended up with your first kiss.

“Maybe the next time we get to do it, you’ll actually be wearing white.”

You stared up at him with a raised eyebrow. “Is that so? Does that mean you’d like to bed me next time?” you teased.

“I’d love to bed you now,” he said with a slight chuckle. “But I’m aware you’d rather follow the traditional path.”

You laughed and patted his chest. “Well, you’ll better get me that white dress quickly then.”

4.

Hiccup had been acting weird all day. Evading you and whenever you managed to track him down he responded any question you had in a dismissive manner. You had figured you should let him alone for a while, at least until he was ready to talk about whatever was bothering him.

He did tend to get too into his own head whenever he was worried, and it took you telling him about it for him to realize he could share his burden with you. But this time it was different.

When you had asked what was bothering him he dismissed you as soon as he could and continued what he was doing.

It had hurt you. It made you think if you had done anything wrong, but you couldn’t think of anything. It was scary thinking about what this could mean for the both of you.

“And you’re sure he hasn’t ever acted like this before?” Astrid asked as she tried to make sense of the situation with you.

You where both sat in the Great Hall, as the rest of the vikings ate their dinner. You however, couldn’t seem to make anything go down past your throat, as worry consumed you.

“Yes Astrid, I am sure,” you replied rather harshly. “I don’t even know where the hell he is right now. For all I know he’s probably off in another girl’s house. Maybe he got tired of waiting for me. Maybe he realized he doesn’t want this sort of commitment…”

You knew that this was irrational thinking. Hiccup had never given you signs that he didn’t want to be with you anymore, on the contrary, he was always very reassuring on how much he liked being with you. Up until now you had never had any reason to doubt your relationship; but up until now, Hiccup had never behaved like this either.

“Don’t say that! That boy is crazy for you. He has been since we where thirteen.”

You sighed and buried your hands in your hair. “Then why is he acting like this?!”

“I think you should ask him yourself,” Astrid said as she placed a comforting hand on her friend’s back.

“I’ve already tried that…” you groaned out. Your voice muffled by your arms, on which you were resting your head.

“Give it one more try. Maybe he’ll snap out of it.”

Reluctantly, you agreed and made your way up to the watch tower. It was Hiccup’s turn to keep watch tonight, so you knew he wouldn’t be able to escape this time.

You felt the heat of the fire before you saw it, and you knew he was there.

“You need to cut the crap Haddock,” you started as you saw the faint outline of his shadow as you were nearing the end of the stairs. “If I did something wrong, just tell me right now because I can’t keep doing this. We’re not teenagers anymo-”

Your throat closed up as soon as you saw him. A gasp escaped your mouth and your hands flew to your face.

In front of you, Hiccup was down on one knee and a small wooden box sat comfortably on the palm of his hand.

“You bastard,” you whispered just to yourself.

He chuckled at that and smiled as he saw your reaction. He then opened the box to reveal a small silver ring in the shape of some intricate patterns.

“My dearest Y/N…” he started, but the lump in his throat wouldn’t let him go any further.

“Oh Hiccup…” you breathed out as you approached him slowly.

“Please marry me,” he said finally.

You crouched in front of him with tears in your eyes and held his face in your hands.

“Of course I will marry you,” you replied as a teary laugh escaped your throat.

To him, it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

He laughed then, as he slid the ring in, and looked up at you. He cupped your cheeks with the palm of his hand and pulled you closer until your lips met. He tasted tears and relief in that kiss.

You eventually separated and you hit his chest lightly.

“Don’t ever do that to me again you bastard!” you said as the tears flowed, and you whipped them off as nervous laughter escaped your lips.

“I swear this is the last time love,” he chuckled as he crouched his head slightly to help you whipe your tears.

“Not that! Don’t ever avoid me like that again Hiccup! I was starting to think that maybe you didn’t want me anymore…”

Hiccup grabbed your chin gently and made you look up at him. “Theres no one else I’d rather want.”

You laughed nervously once again and offered him a teary smile.

“I’m sorry I scarred you love. I just…I was so nervous.”

“It’s ok…” you reassured him. “I understand.”

He smiled down at you and whipped another tear. You didn’t mean to keep doing it, but you had been so worried all day long that it was finally coming out. You didn’t want to ruin your moment like this. It was supposed to be a moment for celebration and happiness. You tried to make it stop.

“You can cry. I will lift your sorrows,” Hiccup said with a soft laugh as he whipped another tear.

You smiled then, tears still flowing out. But you knew it would be alright. He would make you feel alright. He always did.

[divinesyn]

hihi 🤗

ive been thinking abt jealous winter who fucks you when your asleep because she was upset you hung out with your friend without telling her, and waking up to her straddling your stomand, riding you with an anger face (but she looks so cute)

hi anon! so sorry this took so long, but your mind is... 😩

-x-

brief: After what you assumed to be a harmless night out it seems your girlfriend doesn't have the nerve to tell you otherwise... Not to your face at least. pairing: fem!reader x winter genre: smut with some plot i guess...

this was definitely not proofread.......... i kept writing chunks of this late at night before i slept so ill probably check back and proof it later :)

-x-

One could say that Minjeong was a woman of actions rather than words. Except that doesn't really apply to you since you have been completely oblivious to said actions.

The excessive pouting

The impatient tapping of fingers on the couch armrests

The constantly furrowed brows

Is she stupid?

Minjeong huffed as her eyes scanned you above the edge of her phone, lazily perched on the couch as you hurriedly adjusted your earrings as they tangled into your hair amidst the rush. The corporate wear that was on you roughly forty-five minutes ago was replaced with a black, sinfully - as Minjeong puts it briefly - tight dress that had your girlfriend sinking her teeth just slightly deeper into her bottom lip. As soon as you crossed into your shared apartment, phone held to your ear with an awkwardly shrugged shoulder as you excitedly conversed with whoever was on the line, Minjeong was not content with the barely there peck you gave before you rushed into the bedroom.

And she was definitely not happy with the way you looked when you exited.

Heavier, evening-ready makeup now adorning your features in the best way possible has your girlfriend pouting, still lost in what you were doing and who you were going out with to warrant your absolute best. Phone now nestled in the simple leather clutch in your hand you flash a smile to Minjeong, heels thudding against the floor as you approach her.

'Going out, home late. Talk to you about it later!'

Rosy lips press against Minjeong's as she simply hums in response.

Oblivious as always you step out of the door Minjeong finally decides to speak.

'Who are you going out wi-'

The door closes before she can finish her sentence eyes rolling as she sighs. Shoulders shrugging as she continues to idly scroll on her phone.

She'll figure it out, she guesses.

-x-

Eyes that were eagerly eating up the sight of you sitting cross-legged suddenly narrow at the sight of a familiar face that has their body posing dangerously close to yours.

Of course, in your eyes, it really was just a harmless photo, taken in the interior of a modern restaurant several blocks away from your apartment. Glass of wine in hand you're pressed into the side of none other than your high school best friend.

Ning Yizhou.

Having met during your international schooling days in China you two were practically inseparable, especially seeing as you two both ended up working in Seoul. However, seeing as Yizhou frequently worked abroad you two barely saw each other after you graduated from university seeing as you joined graduate programs within competitor companies no less.

Minjeong has heard countless stories even being indulged in your drunkenly recalled university stories where you and Yizhou may have hooked up before, but she never thought anything of it and has always enjoyed being in her company when you three - sometimes four, with the occasional visit of Yizhou's partner Aeri - were together if she was back in the city. A flicker of jealousy teased Minjeongs chest as she tapped through your Instagram story as you grinned happily beside Yizhou, looking so frustratingly good. As much as she would like to fight the envy she knew that beneath the surface the emotions that were swirling were unable to be suppressed as they brewed into something much, much more.

It wasn't until you came back slightly tipsy and undeniably too tired to do anything else, that when you blindly fumbled your way into the bedroom pressing against your girlfriend's body with a heaved sigh that Minjeong really did think you were completely oblivious to the storm that was was her.

-x-

You couldn't tell if it was the alcohol that was still buzzing in your system or the sleepy haze that clouded your eyes but as you wearily blinked up to what appeared to be your girlfriend straddling you your head can only cock to the side.

'Jeong..?'

The weight that was on your lap was undoubtedly real and you begin to push yourself up, only to be firmly pressed back down onto the sheets below.

'Stay.'

Brows furrowed you open your mouth to speak once more.

'What-'

A warm mouth encloses yours as you rouse from your weary state suddenly aware of the way the material of your dress has been hiked up to your waist, just above your belly button with an all too familiar heat pressed against your stomach.

Pulling away from the kiss you can't help but huff.

'Baby-' Feeling her subtly grind onto your skin your teeth grit 'Fuck, you're so wet'

Your eyes return to her face, barely illuminated by the ambient glow of the street lights several floors below. Minjeong's face was flushed a rosy hue that definitely contrasted the pissed look on her face.

'D-Did I do something wrong?'

Scoffing Minjeong stills herself, as her hands perch on your shoulders you feel the sting of nails pressing into your flesh.

'How come you didn't tell me you were going out with Yizhou?' Minjeong replies with a venomous husk. 'Dressed up all nice, wearing this of all things.'

Her words are accentuated by the trailing of her palms down your exposed shoulders to the sides of your waist as Minjeong's eyes shamelessly stare down your body, gripping at the offending material of your dress as she stretches it away from your skin with the playful intention to rip it.

'Don't even think about it.'

The black fabric snaps back to your body as her eyes flicker up to yours. You'd almost feel threatened save for the innocent - if you could even say that - pout that plastered her face.

'Didn't even pay attention to me when you came back from work...' Is mumbled under her breath and you quirked a brow. You resist the urge to chuckle and instead become hyper-aware of the heat that radiated between the thighs that were hovering above your stomach and those urges are quickly replaced with a different kind.

Planting your hands on her waist you press her down firmly, providing the friction she seemed to so desperately crave as her hips rut instinctively against you with a gasp.

'You're soaked through your panties, baby...' You can't help the salacious grin as you watch Minjeong's head jerk back.

'Y/N...'

'Sad that unnie had to rush off? Couldn't give Minjeongie any attention right?'

Reaching underneath the oversized t-shirt you hum at the feeling of warm skin, gripping at the soft flesh of Minjeong's chest as nimble fingers pinched and flicked at her nipples.

This won't do is what you think as you finally find yourself snapped out of the sleepy haze quickly retracting your hands - much to Minjeong's dismay - as you flip your positions, watching bleached blonde hair sprawling on the sheets and a flushed Minjeong gazing up in surprise.

You idly reach down to caress the pale skin of her outer thigh watching with restraint as she squirmed at your touch with a helpless whine.

'So whiny tonight baby,' You rasp 'C'mon tell unnie what you want.'

'I-I don't know.' She responds, averting her gaze from yours.

Your free hand grips at her chin as you force her head to face yours.

'Look at me when I speak baby,' This time you can't help but chuckle as your girlfriend pouts once more 'What? You were so confident before, where did it all go?'

As you playfully snap the waistband of her panties Minjeong stays silent. Unamused to say the least, your body hinges forward as your breath fans across her ear.

'Don't start something you can't finish baby girl.'

Wordlessly you tug at the hem of her t-shirt urging her to remove it. Sitting upright you watch as a blur of white is strewn across the dark pit of your bedroom floor you smile in appreciation at newly exposed skin, head lowering back down once again.

Lips latching to the flawless expanse of her neck your tongue laps at the skin before teeth sink down enough to have Minjeong yelping. Soothing the reddening skin with a kiss, you continue to tease between her thighs away from where she needs you most.

'Now, are you going to tell me what you want?'

'Between my legs, please unnie...' Minjeong finally hushes out, the tiny breaths she was taking driving you closer to your intentions of ruining her.

'Between your legs? But I'm already here?' You respond, with a playful slap on the skin of her thighs. 'You need to be more specific than that.'

Fingers dip below the material of her panties before retreating up, only to rub at the clothed area of Minjeong's pussy teasing close to her aching clit.

'F-fuck... Need you there!' She gasps as your thumb swipes across the swollen nub 'Need your fingers in my pussy, or your mouth, just something unnie please!'

'Only because you said please'

One arm wrapped around her waist you pepper feathery light kisses across her chest, the other hand pulling the damp cotton to the side with two slender fingers plunging into tight, wet heat.

'Ah! Y/N please... more'

Setting a gradual pace, your lips inch towards a perky nipple enveloping it with the warmth of your mouth. You feel Minjeong's skin press further into yours with a whimper as her hips rocked gratefully into your fingers. Releasing her nipple with a pop you contently watch the blissed expression on Minjeong's face as her lips part with breathy moans, eyes fluttering shut. Feeling her clench around you has you groaning at the wetness that was forming between your own thighs but you ignore it for the sake of your girlfriend.

'Finally happy? Unnie is giving you the attention you wanted so bad.'

As she opens her eyes to your wicked grin you don't miss the glassy stare that is returned to you and the fucked out look drives your fingers to curl against a spot that has her biting her lip.

'Feels so good unnie'

Thumb rubbing at her precious clit, Minjeong's walls clench pathetically around your fingers as she moans your name at the relentless pace you filled her.

'God you're clenching. You know this pussy belongs to me don't you baby? Or were you trying to get me to fuck you so bad because you were getting jealous at the thought of Yizhou and I doing this instead?'

Minjeong knew you were only teasing but those words further fueled the fire that was raging in the pit of her stomach but she wouldn't dare to admit that. Though her body openly betrayed her as her hips jerked up in response, tongue cheekily poking out between gritted teeth.

'Only yours y/n. Yours only!'

'If you were mine baby you'd cum wouldn't you?' You continue to plant open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, admiring the smattering of red and purple that contrasted against her pale skin. 'You'd cum all over unnies fingers like a good girl right?'

You can't even register what she responds with as it comes out as a choked, broken sob as her thighs tremble violently as her cunt clenches around your fingers. The jerking of her hips becomes stuttered as she rides the waves of her high, matching the rhythm you set. Fixated on the sight of her coming undone you slip out of her heat, lazily rubbing at her clit.

'Mmm... no more please...'

Heeding to her words you bring drenched digits up, tapping at her lips.

'Open.'

Minjeong's lips engulf your fingers with a warm tongue lapping languidly at the taste of herself with a content sigh. Releasing your hand with a lewd pop, she's quick to chase with your mouth. Indulging in the taste of her your tongues gently press against one another as you reluctantly pull away.

Feeling the curl of her lips just as your lips part Minjeong reverses your positions once more for the night with a giggle, it feels like deja vu though the only difference was the fact Minjeong's head was hovering above your core with a disgustingly smug grin.

'I'd say back to where I started... But I figured we can skip a few steps.'

-x-

[imagine-darksiders]

Thank you to the marvellous @humboltsquid for commissioning a fanfic with pregnant Reader attempting to hide said pregnancy from the Horsemen because she fears they'll buy into the social rhetoric surrounding single mothers who don't know who the father is.

TW: Vomiting, morning sickness, drinking, Pregnancy, briefest allusion to sa, no actual sa took place, everything was consensual, both parties were drunk, Reader remembers most of the night except the guy's face and name. Horsemen are predictably angry about someone touching their little sister.

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Porcelain, cold and consolidated, bites into the sensitive skin of your palms as you grip the edge of the bathroom sink, your arms locked like overheated pistons just to keep yourself standing upright in defiance of how your legs seem determined to collapse out from underneath your weight.

To your right, the loo gurgles noisily, flushing away any traces of the meal you’d spewed up into it only moments ago. At least the sound helps to drown out a voice thundering at you from the other side of the door.

“Let us in!”

Fumbling with the tap for a moment, you bend down, spooning a palmful of fresh, cooling water into your mouth. As you do so, you spare a baleful glance down at the loo again, and the food lost to its pipes… Perfectly good rations… all gone to waste.

Five years on from the Great Resurrection and Earth’s agricultural efforts are finally on a steady incline. While the food situation isn’t anywhere near as desperate as it was when Humanity woke up to a world without excess, that doesn’t mean you’re particularly pleased to see precious rations wasted because you couldn’t hold them down.

And now that you’re supposed to be eating for two…

Groaning, your expression twists into a look of remorse, and you place one hand gently on your stomach, roaming a palm over the bump that lays hidden beneath the baggiest jumper you could find. You’re only too aware that it won’t be so easy to hide the swell in another couple of months.

You barely manage to bite back another miserable groan as a colossal fist hammers against the door so viciously, you almost wonder if the wood will splinter and break, which starts to seem more likely when seconds later, a familiar voice booms out, “If you don’t open this door, I’m tearing it from its frame!”

Ah… That’ll be War; youngest of the Four Horsemen, an armoured, muscle-bound colossus who also just so happens to be one of your very dearest friends.

A friend who has been growing rightfully suspicious of you over these last couple of months…

There are only so many excuses you can fall back on to explain away your frequent and unexpected dashes for the nearest bathroom. You can only thank the Creator that neither of the Four seem all that well-versed on the more delicate biological functions of humans.

Swiping a wrist over the back of your mouth, you lean away from the sink and assess yourself in the mirror, doing your best to ignore the taste of vomit still sitting like a layer of fuzz on the roof of your mouth.

‘How long are you going to keep this up?’ you pose to your reflection, her sleep-stained eyes bearing back into yours as if she too has had the same question.

It’s been like this for a few weeks now, ever since the dreaded Morning Sickness wrapped its hands around your guts and wrung them with a relentlessness that leaves you scrambling for the closest bathroom at least twice a day.

It wasn’t this bad in the first trimester… Now entering your second, things are getting a Hell of a lot harder to manage. To hide.

Slowly letting your eyes slip shut, you exhale through your nostrils in exasperation as a different voice accompanies the first. “Kid? I uh… I think he means it. We just wanna make sure you haven’t drowned in there.”

Strife… The humour he tries to inject into his quip is overshadowed by his hand rattling at the doorknob. He’s worried. They all are. You wouldn’t have thought it possible, if you didn’t know them personally, though each Horseman will swear up and down they don’t ever feel such trivial, human emotions.

Actions, however, speak louder than words.

Their sister, Fury, has hardly left your side ever since Mrs Gaffe tutted at you from across the hallway and you immediately retreated into your apartment, leant back against the door and wept into your hands. She didn’t know… She didn’t know Mrs Gaffe who lives on your floor is also a chemist, and she’s also the very woman who sold you your pregnancy test… and the subsequent tests you went back for when the first came up positive. You’d spent over an hour convincing Fury that, no, she doesn’t need to defend your honour by besting old Mrs Gaffe in combat. Though you let her know you appreciated the gesture.

You try to think the best of your neighbours. And you certainly didn’t like to think of Mrs Gaffe being a gossip, but judging by the curious and frequently disdainful glances other people in the building sent your way, you soon came to realise your secret was not such a secret after all.

You’re pregnant. And the father is nowhere to be found.

You only hope word doesn’t get back to the Horsemen somehow. You don’t think you could bear it if their gazes turned sharp and pointed as well.

Outside the bathroom door, you hear War grunt at Strife to move aside, and at last, you decide you’ve stalled enough.

Shoving yourself off the sink, you spin around on a hell, regretting the action as a wave of dizziness threatens to knock you back down to Earth, but it’s soon dispelled with a deep breath and a second to gather yourself, calling, “Okay, okay, I’m coming out.”

Someone – Strife, you think – grumbles, “Finally.”

Grabbing the handle, you pull the door towards yourself and tilt your head back, blinking up at the two, immense shapes blocking the entire width of your hallway. If it weren’t for the space between your bedroom and bathroom being meagre at best, you imagine you’d have the remaining two behemoths cramped in there as well.

“When did you guys get to be so clingy.”

War’s ice-blue eyes glare down at you from beneath a crimson hood.

You start to edge past them, feeling like a fish trying to squeeze between a pair of grizzlies. Just as you make it past and put your back to them entirely, you hear Strife announce, “All right. That’s it.”

“What’s it?” you ask hesitantly as he advances on you, his heavy, metal boots thudding on the carpet. Before you can react, the Horseman suddenly slings a bulky arm around your waist and hoists you off your feet, tucking you into his side. You’re forced to fold almost in half, bent over Strife’s uncomfortable gauntlet with most of the pressure bearing down on your stomach.

“STRIFE!” you exclaim, horrified.

“I’m not lettin’ you go until you tell us what’s been goin’ on with you,” he huffs, clomping into the living room with War bringing up the rear. By the window, Death twists his bone-mask towards the commotion, his shoulders flattening, unimpressed. “Brother…” he warns.

Fury too, tosses Strife her own disparaging glare from the sofa and barks, “Is it truly necessary to manhandle the human?”

You, however, hardly pay attention to a word they exchange. Your mind is utterly and wholly on the point of your stomach that’s digging into the Horseman’s gauntlet. You can cope with the discomfort, but it isn’t just you anymore.

There’s no thought to the cry you let out, just a plea borne of a desire to protect the little life growing inside you, by any means necessary. “Strife!” you exclaim, smacking your palms against his armoured thigh in a bid to relieve some of the pressure around your gut. “Put me down! The baby-!”

No sooner has the word left your lips than you find the arm restraining you springing open, letting you tumble to the floor. A jolt shoots through you as your hands and knees strike the carpet, but all you can celebrate in that moment is that the strength of a Horseman is no longer curled around your vulnerable stomach.

You don’t look up at the Horsemen until you’ve pushed yourself back to your feet, patting down your jumper. When you do happen to glance up, your face immediately falls.

Death has shifted from his position by the window and now stands several, jarring feet closer, he and Fury both, in fact. The latter has somehow leapt from her seat on the sofa in the time it took you to gather yourself up off the floor.

But more disconcertingly, they’re still. Utterly motionless as if they’ve been caught in a pocket of frozen time.

Gulping, you tentatively twist your head over a shoulder, only to find War and Strife are in much the same state.

Strife has backed up to stand next to his brother, his liquid-gold eyes round beneath his visor, neither one of them twitching so much as a single muscle. It’s… eerie. You don’t think you’ve ever seen them so still before. Death, maybe, but not the other three.

It only occurs to you then that you might have let something slip.

Then, at last, just as you wet your lips to call out to one of them…

 “What did you say?” Fury breathes, cutting neatly through the heavy blanket of silence draped over the room.

Blinking owlishly, you turn back to face her, your mind scrambling for an adequate response.

“What… what do you mean, ‘what did I say?’”

Feigning ignorance it is.

You actually leap several inches off the ground when the Horseman suddenly explodes back into motion, storming forwards in your direction and exclaiming, “What baby?!”

“B-baby?” you double down, backing away from her until your spine collides with a solid torso – War. “Who said anything about a baby?”

“You just did!”

“Did I?”

“Y/n…” Death utters in a slow and cautious tone as though he’s afraid you’ll bolt at the slightest provocation - Hell, given the furtive glances you keep swinging around his side at the door to your apartment, he might be in the ballpark. His voice alone carries enough authority to silence his sister, and more than enough to make you clamp your jaws shut painfully tight. “You’re with child?”

It’s strange, but despite the inflection on his last word, you get the impression he isn’t asking you if you’re pregnant, but merely whether you’re ready to admit to the fact.

The hopelessness of it all dawns on you when you meet his enduring, gilded stare.

He knows.

And if Death knows, there’s little point in continuing your efforts of duping the other three. In spite of outward appearances and their frequent, often frightening disagreements, the Four Horsemen have a bond stronger than tungsten. So, with a head that suddenly feels weighed down by months of secrecy and deflection, you lower your gaze to the floor near his boots and give a slow, sombre nod.

It’s as though your little confirmation is all that they needed to lift the veil on any and all doubts.

The shadows they cast on your carpet suddenly start to tremble as an overhead light flickers, strobing on and off until it sputters weakly back to life and holds steady, albeit dimmer than it had been before.

The Horsemen seem to grow in size, muscled shoulders bulge like raised hackles and four sets of eyes flare with an ethereal light as they shift their weight, bearing down on you like toppling monoliths.

“I’m gonna kill ‘em,” Strife mutters venomously under his breath, “I’m gonna kill whatever bastard laid a finger on-”

“-W h o  t o u c h e d  y o u?” the eldest Horseman’s growl cuts him off. It’s guttural and animalistic, so much so that you can’t withhold a flinch. You could count on one hand the number of times Death has outwardly lost his temper, which makes it all the more alarming to witness.

Stumbling over your words for a beat, you keep your eyes fixed to the floor as the Old One stalks across the meagre living space towards you, his ominous shadow growing along the carpet to swallow you whole. When it seems he’s right on top of you, you finally blurt out, “N-Nobody!”

In hindsight, that wasn’t the most logical answer.

Fury – her vibrant hair whipping behind her like angry, coiling snakes - scoffs, tucking her arms firmly across her chest. “Nobody?” she parrots, “I’m no expert, but don’t these things usually involve two parties?”

“Great! Now she’s lying to us,” Strife barks, pacing back and forth behind you and throwing a hand up to rake the fingers of his metal gauntlet through his stiff, black hair, “I don’t believe this, we go off world for two weeks-!”

“Were you hurt?” War’s voice, though less jagged than Death’s, is pitched low enough to rumble through you until it resounds inside your chest. You can feel his presence behind you, too close for comfort, the living embodiment of rage and violence.

You suddenly fear for the man whose face and name you can’t recall.

“I… no,” you protest, hugging your elbows close, “It wasn’t anything like… like that. It was an accident! We were out drinking, and I-“

“DRINKING!?”

Your mouth snaps shut as Death lurches towards you, and you’re finally forced to tear your eyes off the carpet when his sinewy fingers slide around your biceps and he hauls you a foot off the ground, holding you up to his mask and subjecting you a shout that’s rife with unparalleled urgency. “You know what that does to a human’s inhibitions!” he demands.

His hands are gentle, neither hurting nor bruising the delicate skin on your bare arms, but the power behind even his gentlest grasp is frustratingly insurmountable.

You’ve never liked how easily he can manhandle you. “Yes, Death! I know what alcohol does!” you snap back, kicking your legs and trying to twist out of his grip, “I’m not a kid anymore, stop treating me like one! And put me down!”

You’re aware that your point is all a matter of perspective. For the Horsemen, there’ll always be some small part of them that continues to see you as a youngling. You’re human, after all. A hundred years wouldn’t even see a Nephilim out of adolescence. Not to mention that the Horsemen have all but declared you as one of them… One of theirs - an unconventional, human sibling they’ve taken into their fold.

It's not so easy for them to simply stop seeing you as their little sister, no matter how much you might wish they would sometimes.

As your retort fades into silence, Death blinks, recoiling his head slightly with wider eyes, and it will only occur to you later just how rare it is to make Death falter.

The other three, although their bodies still quiver with barely contained adrenaline, have fallen quiet whilst you stare down their eldest until at last, he lowers you gingerly to the floor, setting you safely on the carpet once again and retrieving his hands.

You’d never dare to say it aloud, but in that moment, something like shame flashes over the dark sockets of his mask.

“Why didn’t you tell us, kid?” Strife asks, the crux of his question tinged by badly concealed hurt.

“This, Strife,” you sigh, throwing your arms out towards he and his siblings, exasperated. Fury with her face set into a thunderous scowl. War’s metal gauntlets curled into bludgeoning fists. Even Strife is idly tracing a finger on the stock of Redemption in its holster, and Death – especially Death – whose ancient magics are still causing the lamps in your room to fade in and out…

Heaving another, immense sigh, you continue, “This is why I didn’t tell you.” Well. It’s one of the reasons, but at this point, it’s a fairly vital one. “I mean, look at you!”

Each Horseman shares a glance with one another.

“You’re all raring to go on a manhunt to find a guy who didn’t even do anything wrong!”

“Didn’t do anything wrong?” War grunts, teeth still bared despite following the lead of Death and reeling in his temper, if only slightly, “He mated with you-“

“Oh, hell, War, don’t say it like that,” Strife complains, grimacing under his visor.

“-and now you carry his child, and he has abandoned you both?”

Biting at the soft flesh inside your cheek, you withhold a frustrated groan and remind yourself that War’s sense of Honour is vastly inflated. The ‘father’ of your child’s ignorance won’t excuse his absence, not in War’s eyes.

Even so, you try to dissuade any ideas of retribution before they can gain traction.

“He didn’t abandon us, War. He probably doesn’t even remember I exist! Goodness knows I can hardly remember that night…” You trail off, lowering your gaze to the floor.

Death’s eyes are suddenly the hardest to meet. You recall your first introduction to Lilith; the self-proclaimed mother of all Nephilim, and subsequently the Horsemen themselves. You know of the demoness’s… reputation. You also know firsthand how much the Eldest Horseman despises her. You’re terrified Death will see something of Lilith in you, that you’d be so liberal with your own body as to end up with a child.

The inside of your eyelids start to burn. “And now everyone is gonna think I’m just some skank who went and got knocked-up by a stranger and… and-… They’re always gonna look at my kid and wonder who the father is. I don’t even know who the father is.”

There are tears prickling at your eyelashes, but you force your hands into fists at your sides, refusing to wipe them away lest your draw attention to them. The Horsemen see anyway.

Light blooms back to its full power across your apartment, your lamps stop trembling, and a pale finger crooks beneath your chin, tilting your head back until you’re peering up at a stoic mask of bone.

Death’s ebony hair falls in curtains around his face as he bends a little to speak to you in a hushed yet urgent tone. “He didn’t…” Hesitating, he draws in an unnecessary breath to fill dead lungs and alters his trajectory. “You were not forced…?”

You wish you didn’t know why that question is so important to Death, why the concept of consent means more to him than it might the others.

“No,” you reiterate miserably, “That’s one thing I do remember. I wanted, uh… it, at the time, a-and so did he. He didn’t know this would happen any more than I did.” You pause to lay a hand over your stomach, furrowing your brow as you give it a pensive stare and missing the way Death’s shoulders slump with relief. After a second or two, you hesitantly raise your chin to look him in the eye again, hoping that what little determination you can inject into your voice will hold strong. “… Look, I’m not proud of it, but it happened. I can’t change things… and… I’m keeping them. I’m sorry, but I’m keeping this baby.”

You hold your breath, expecting arguments, expecting a rebuttal or perhaps even a scoff or two.

“Why would you be sorry for that?” Strife pipes up instead.

It throws you off kilter. Pulling away from Death, you swivel around to frown uncertainly at War and his brother, fiddling with the hem of your jumper’s sleeve. “Well… I mean… I-I’m having the baby…“

When you don’t say anything further, War raises a hand and pulls down his hood, exposing the full extent of his wispy, white hair. “Yes?” he prompts, the unspoken ‘and?’ ringing clear as a bell.

“I’m having the… baby of a… of a man I don’t… know?” you finish slowly, glancing at each of them in turn.

“Big deal!” Strife announces so abruptly, you have to do a double-take, “You don’t need him to help you raise a little human! You’ve got us!”

Nodding her head, Fury adds, “Far be it from me to agree with Strife, but… in this case, he may be right.”

War grunts his own agreement, and when you throw an incredulous look at Death, you’re floored to see him dipping his head in concurrence as well.

“You’re…” Darting your tongue out to wet your dry lips, you squint at the eldest Horseman, asking, “You’re not angry?”

He’s quiet for some time, contemplative even as his gaze roves lower until it comes to a stop on your torso. Then, gently, he replies, “The only qualm I have is that you’ve been trying to bear this weight on your own two shoulders. And while I wish you had told us sooner, at least now we know how to help you.”

“Help me?” you utter, voice cracking.

Death’s eyes dance with a sudden fondness. “Well,” he replies, “As I’m sure Strife has told you repeatedly-“

“- you’re one of us,” said brother butts in, expertly finishing Death’s sentence and stepping up beside you to lay a heavy palm on your shoulder, “We take care of our own. Same goes for your kid.”

You’re too late to stop a choked noise from escaping the base of your throat, but before you can say anything, War steps forwards, towering over you as he pounds a solid, metal fist against his chest, directly over his heart in a show of allegiance.

“You and yours will always have the protection of the Four,” he proclaims.

“You… you don’t have to, you know,” you sniff, swiping a few fingers beneath your eyes, “I signed up for this baby, you guys didn’t. It’s okay if you don’t want to get involved because -“

“-Oh, don’t talk such nonsense,” Fury gruffly interjects, “You’re sorely mistaken if you think either one of us will be leaving your side for the foreseeable future.”

“Fury,” you laugh wetly, aiming a wobbly smile at her, “You mean that?”

The surly Horseman’s lip curls but she merely shrugs and retorts, “I may not care much for children, but someone will have to stick around to teach our youngling how to fight.”

Our youngling…

Your heart squeezes appreciatively, even if she might not have noticed the slip.

“That’s just her way of sayin’ she cares about children if it’s yours,” Strife’s voice murmurs in your ear, and with a gentle nudge at the small of your back, he pushes you towards the sofa his sister has vacated. If Fury hears him, she doesn’t dispute his words.

As you’re herded to sit down, War, ever the more practical of his siblings, is busy casting a rather dissatisfied look around your apartment, making a quick mental note to ramp up fortifications. He’ll have to schedule watches between himself and his siblings too…

“I can’t believe it,” you mutter, half to yourself, half to the Horsemen, sinking down among the cushions of your sofa and shaking your head, “I’ve been so worried about telling you guys I’m pregnant, and you’re just… okay with it.”

“As if we’d be anything else,” Death sighs, roving a quick look over you from head to toe. Squinting slightly, he adds, “Hmm… I’m not, however, okay that you can’t seem to keep food down lately. I take it that’s why you’ve been disappearing so suddenly of late?”

Giving him a sheepish nod, you shuffle to one side, allowing Strife to flop heavily onto the sofa next to you, his enormous thigh squashing you up against the arm rest. “I’ll go for more rations in a bit,” he announces, eager to provide.

“I can go,” you say, “They are for me, after all.”

Burly shoulders bristle in a display of faux authority as Strife instantly argues, “Nuh uh. You’re stayin’ right here where it’s safe.” He grumbles a nonsensical sound, then begrudgingly admits, “Hate you leavin’ at the best of times…”

Despite the niggle of exasperation that begs you to remind them you’re not helpless, just pregnant, you offer him a warm grin and bump your shoulder against his side, saying, “You’re going to make a great uncle, Strife.”

To say the Horseman’s mask almost flies off as he whips his torso around to face you would be an understatement.

You have to lean back, as though pushed away by the sheer intensity of his blazing stare. “What’d you say?” he breathes.

“I… oh, I, er…” Realising you may have overstepped, you swiftly attempt to backtrack. “I mean, that’s not what you have to be called, I was just-“

“-Uncle... That’s the brother of a human’s parent…” His eyes shine like the sun as they bore into you across the sofa. “Right?”

Uncertain, you quirk a brow at him. “Uh, yeah?”

He contemplates that for a second before he asks in a far smaller voice that almost doesn’t sound as if it belongs to the boisterous Horseman you know, “I’m your brother?”

“Of… course?” you blink, surprised that he’d need to even ask that question, “Of course you are. You said it yourself, I’m one of you. Sorry to say it, but that goes both ways. You’re my brother Strife. A-and if you’re okay with it… I’d like you to be this baby’s uncle.” Tearing your eyes off the sharpshooter whilst he none-too subtly coming apart at your side, you send a tentative look up at War, peering at him from under your lashes. “You too, big guy. But! Only if that’s okay with you? I just… want them to grow up knowing who their family is…”

War coughs into a mighty fist, hoping to hide the tiny smile that’s trying to bloom at the sides of his mouth, “In that case, it would be an honour to be acknowledged as the child’s ‘Uncle,’ until my dying breath.”

Always so serious. Giving your head a fond shake, you flash their sister a knowing look and call, “What about Aunt Fury? You on board?”

“Hmph, well,” she shrugs one shoulder, turning to glare at the wall, “It… has a nice ring to it, I suppose.”

You’re not fooled. The way she’s keeps having to wrestle the corners of her lips back into a terse line speaks volumes.

“Of course, I haven’t forgotten about you, Death,” you say, at last addressing the Reaper who is watching the proceeding with a calm, reserved expression. At least until he catches the little smirk lifting your cheeks. “Or should I say, Grandpa Death.”

At once, the Nephilim’s expression flattens, unimpressed. “If you introduce me to that child as ‘Grandpa Death,’ perhaps I won’t be sticking around.”

“Ah, you love it, Gramps, don’t try to deny it,” Strife teases, leaning in to stage-whisper in your ear, “Look at him, I don’t think I’ve ever seen the miserable bastard this happy.”

You have to stifle a snicker for Death’s sake. True to form though, while his eldest brother’s fearsome scowl persists when it lingers on Strife, it soon grows soft again upon turning back to you.

And in that one look, shared between a human and the eldest surviving Nephilim, you realise categorically that Death is with you. All of them are. They aren’t worried about your reputation. They won’t concern themselves with the idle gossip of your neighbours.

They’re family, as is the small spark of life steadily growing inside your stomach.

And father or no, your child is still going to grow up under the watchful eye of the Universe's most diligent and protective guardians.

[chiqelatasblog]

CHAPTER FIVE : I don’t want to know more about you. (But I want to…)

-> Ao3 link is here.

-> Chapter Four link is here.

Pairing : Sub-Zero / Bi-Han x Reader

Summary : Nearly a month has passed since you first joined the Lin Kuei, and as you spend time with Bi-Han, you started to realize some things about him and also about yourself.

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15 years ago…

“May I join you too?”

It had been a few months since you turned eight, and there were a few other kids close to your age in the clan. When you weren’t undergoing martial arts training, you still attended noble womanly pursuits, as deemed by your father. The time you could spend by yourself was so limited that, at times fatigue seemed to permeate every moment.

Fortunately, there was an exception today. Your teacher, responsible for teaching etiquette, fell ill. Upon discovering that your afternoon would be unoccupied, you pondered how to fill the empty space. The last time you had such wide-open time, the wound in your throat had yet to heal. You spent those days in your room, drawing pictures, reading books your mother brought you, and indulging in the very activity your father despised the most: daydreaming.

Your father was a man who was firmly attached to a sense of reality. He was an idealist, he believed in reality, not dreams. He always talked about how daydreaming distorts the perception of reality, disconnects from goals and leads to the wrong path, so he never wanted any of his children to dream.

However, since your powers were discovered, you were left alone and as you relied more on your umbrakinesis, this isolation also fueled your imagination. Reality often brought pain, while in your own dream world, you felt safer and happier. No one could harm you there, everything followed your control and will.

But since your father changed his mind and decided that you should take martial art training with the others, you haven’t even had time to think properly, let alone dream. The moment your head touched the pillow, you were falling into a deep sleep. You couldn’t even have your nightmares as usual because of the fatigue. The rigorous training left you so physically exhausted that not even your subconscious could conjure the haunting visions that usually plagued your sleep.

It had been two and a half years since the wound on your throat had healed. Given the intense pace of the past two and a half years, it was quite normal for you to feel stunned now, unsure of what to do.

As three children argued about who should be the next “it,” all turned their heads, looking at you with distant eyes when you posed the question.

Unsettled by the prolonged silence, you attempted to ease the tension with a friendly smile. Being the grandmaster’s daughter had always created a distance between you and others in the clan. Here was no exception.

“I suppose you’re playing hide and seek. I really like this game!” you exclaimed cheerfully. The tallest boy among them—Wang, you recalled—squinted his eyes suspiciously and crossed his arms.

“Wherever the shadows touch, you will find us immediately. How do we know if you’re going to cheat or not?” he questioned.

“Yes!” added another. “We can’t trust you!’’

Panic immediately entered your voice.

‘’No, no! I wouldn’t do that. I promise you! My mother has always advised me to be on the side of honesty.”

As the silence lingered once again, a familiar sense of discomfort and exclusion enveloped you. When would you truly become a part of the clan? The first time you vocalized this thought to your mother, she grew angry, instructing you to banish such ideas. In her eyes, you already held a respectable place as the grandmaster’s daughter. Yet, both of you acknowledged the truth—the assassination attempt being the clearest example.

“Let’s let her play the first round. If we see you cheating, you can’t play with us, okay?” the last boy spoke, taking charge in a way that indicated he was the leader of this small group.

The chance given to you filled your heart with excitement and happiness, a broad smile adorning your face. It felt unexpectedly easy. In the past, with your brothers you’d beg to be part of the game, enduring insults, hair-pulling, and tripping that left you bleeding. However, you had outgrown such pleas, tired of the mistreatment.

“All right! Shall I start counting?” you said, eager to begin.

“Put your face against that oak tree,” the leader directed, pointing to the sizable trunk nearby. “We can’t afford for you to peek.”

Nodding eagerly, you placed your hands against the rough bark of the tree, burying your head between them. Your cheeks turned a rosy hue with anticipation as you felt the rough texture beneath your fingers.

“Count to thirty!”

As you counted aloud, the distant echoes of footsteps retreated on the dew-kissed grass. When you reached thirty, you excitedly turned around, carefully observing the surroundings. Despite the bright weather and the sun overhead, the residual chill in the air left it a bit muddy, marking the arrival of spring.

Moving forward with small, cautious steps, you searched every bush, tree, and nook and cranny in your field of vision, being careful not to make too much noise and disturb the serene atmosphere.

“(y/n), what are you doing?”

At the unexpected sound of your father’s deep, resonant voice you froze in place. Fear misfired through your heart, giving you the strength to turn around and face him. He stood a little away, observing you with his usual cold gaze. Although accustomed to that look, his power over you was evident. Your father’s imposing presence always scared you, making you nervous and timid.

It seemed the only way to please him was to stand next to him, as if you were a trinket without breathing.

“I-I was playing hide and seek.” you said in a voice that was barely audible. When your father’s eyebrows furrowed against your answer, it felt like your heart might stop beating right there.

“What happened to today’s lesson?” As your father approached, his presence seemed to crush the world around you. Unable to answer, your lower jaw trembled with fear, and your tongue felt heavy inside your mouth. His dominant presence often did more than physical force.

He never raised a hand to you, but his words were as sharp as a knife, and his heavy, dominating aura weighed on you. When he stood right on top of you, you tilted your head back, trying not to tremble under his imposing size. Showing fear was another thing he detested, a sign of weakness.

“I asked you a question, girl.”

“I found out that Mrs. Cheng has contracted pneumonia. When there was no lesson, I thought-”

“What did you think?” your father interjected. Although his voice sounded calm, the underlying rage made you tremble. “How many times do I have to repeat this to get it into that thick little head of yours; you don’t have time for this kind of nonsense. You’re not anyone’s daughter. Don’t embarrass me and our clan any more and go back to your studies.”

While your father practically pinned you with his eyes, the rustling bushes behind you revealed the children who were hiding. As your father humiliated you in front of them, your cheeks flushed with shame, and your eyes shone with tears that you resisted not to shed. Clenching your small fists, you bowed your head to hide your tears.

“Very well, sir.” you muttered in a bitter voice.

With a sigh, your father said, “Fall in front of me.” Obliged to obey, you started walking along the path to the temple. Though you felt the children’s eyes watching you and heard their whispers, you avoided looking at them due to your shame.

As the temple came into view, you saw your older and middle brothers, one year apart, laughing and pointing fingers at you. The pain in your heart surged, and you made a great effort not to cry. The distance with your brothers and the clan seemed insurmountable. Even if you managed to get closer, somehow they were still moving away from you. Swallowing hard, you swore at that very moment.

You were going to prove yourself to everyone in the clan, especially your father.

No matter what happens.

Today…

You were nervous.

It was the first letter you were going to send to your brother since you came to Lin Kuei. In the letter, you didn’t mention being poisoned and almost coming back from death. The first reason for this was to prevent your brother from starting a war when you had not yet gathered useful information. The second reason was that you didn’t want him to humiliate you for not noticing the poison.

So, without touching on the subject at the moment, you talked about your new life here and the closeness you had begun to establish with the clan members. Especially with Bi-Han, you started to communicate even if it was a little. Your conversations usually revolved around the books he brought you from his mother’s library, which you were forbidden to enter. Surprisingly, Bi-Han had read most of them, maintaining a secretive attitude but not holding back from making a few comments.

He was busy, spending almost all of his day taking care of the affairs of his clan. Even if you only saw him at meals, it made it difficult to further the small communication you had established with him.

Aside from that, it was much easier for you to get along with the others compared to Bi-Han. The only exception was Frost. The woman was as inaccessible as an ice castle, vowing not to talk to you. She was ranked in the top five among the most talented and successful warriors in the clan, and having her assigned as your bodyguard frustrated both her and you. You tried to initiate a dialogue with her more than once to make it feel less like a duty, but the constant surveillance was starting to infuriate you. As long as this situation continued, gathering information about Lin Kuei would be challenging.

Everything you’d learned so far was superficial. Forbidden from entering the archive, the only way to go unnoticed was to use your powers. To do this, you had to create the appropriate moment, but doubts lingered. Ninjas patrolling and Bi-Han lingered into the late hours of the night. A few nights ago, you observed Cyrax walking around with other ninjas.

After adding the last lines to your letter, you created a crow out of the shadows. The only shining place on the crow, standing in a black state, was its beady eyes, having the same eye color as yours. Stroking the crow’s head and under its chin, you inhaled deeply.

You could already anticipate the response your brother would send, filled with humiliation and pressure to accelerate your progress. But Bi-Han was a unique individual, different from anyone you knew, carrying a bit of each of them but forming a distinct persona.

He was bound by traditions, his clan was more important to him than anything else, maybe even more than himself. Perhaps the woman who poisoned you was genuinely innocent, but even that couldn’t be fully proven. Bi-Han considered eliminating her a reasonable option. Whether he liked it or not, you were his wife now, and you represented Lin Kuei. Everything done to you was directly related to him.

This fact bothered you more than the invasion of your privacy in recent days. You accepted this mission knowing the consequences, but facing the truth turned out differently than you hoped. On the other hand, your mother had always instilled in you from childhood that there is hope in every despair. Maybe it was a sign for you to look at ways to turn this situation in your favor. If you could find a way to take the reins into your own hands, who knows, maybe you could even change the course.

Folding the letter you had written, you stamped your seal on it and handed it to the crow’s beak to carry. Then, with a graceful movement of the wrist, you created a portal in the middle of the room, again from the shadows, commanding the crow with a nod to pass into it.

The crow quietly passed right through the portal after a few flaps of its wings and disappeared out of sight, and the portal disappeared on its own right behind him with its departure.

You stood up with another deep breath. It was about to come to dinner, and when you left your room to go to the table before the others, two ninjas waiting outside the door moved with you.

Since you learned about the temple’s layout, it took you only a few minutes to find the dining room now. When you got to the room, one of the ninjas opened the sliding door for you, and after you entered, they waited outside the room, closing the door behind you.

When you noticed Sektor inside, except for you, you said, ‘‘Good evening.’’ Sektor responded in the same way by making a small greeting with his head.

‘’You’re early today.’’

‘’I’m going on a mission to America tomorrow. That’s why I finished my work early,’’ said Sektor, collapsing into his usual chair. And when you took your place at the head of the table next to Bi-Han, you took a small sip of the water placed in the glass in front of you.

After what happened, you hesitated once or twice about touching something to your mouth, but after seeing the protection provided to you and the precautions taken, this hesitation disappeared in a very short time.

While the water refreshed you and slowly calmed the tension you were feeling because of the letter, you quietly studied Sektor. He had a strong physique like every other warrior in the clan. His long black hair was always massed in a tight ponytail, and his beard was neatly shaved.

You had limited information about him. He wasn’t much of a talker compared to the others; he had a tough stance and judgmental looks, much like Bi-Han. You had heard how fast and ruthless he was when fighting while the members around him were talking among themselves. One of the people Bi-Han trusted the most was Sektor, without a doubt.

‘’How do you feel? You seem to have recovered quite a bit since the last time I saw you.’’

“I am being well taken care of, thank you,” you said with a smile that you hoped seemed convincing. Although most of the clan still viewed you as an outsider, an extension of the enemy clan, you couldn’t ignore the care shown for your health and safety.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

‘’Do you think that woman was innocent?’’ you asked at once.

“What made you think of that question?” Sektor raised one of his black eyebrows, looking at you with a questioning expression. You took another sip of your water before answering, keeping your gaze expressionless.

“Tomas was with me that day, and the woman told him that if he wanted to drink tea, she could bring a cup. I honestly don’t think she would have made such an offer if she had known that there really was poison in it. I may be a stranger to you, but Tomas is one of you, and on top of that, Bi-Han’s brother.’’

‘’You are also his wife,’’ Sektor said, voicing the simple truth.

‘’Yes, but many of you have not yet been able to accept this fact.’’

“Ginger has a pungent smell, a logical material that can be used to make it difficult for you to choose the poison.’’

‘’Still, I really don’t think she’s the one who planned this. Is it right that it was decided to kill her before this was clarified?’’

Sektor, leaning back in his chair, drew a breath so loud that you could hear it. He put his own glass between his fingers, looking into the it with thoughtful eyes.

‘’Our clan is strictly bound by traditions, so the punishments used to be heavier. As a penalty for certain crimes, not only the person but also their entire family was sentenced to death along with them. In the event of an assassination attempt against you, it does not matter whether this person is innocent or not; the fact that they took part in this act is considered quite sufficient reason for their murder.’’ He went on, taking a sip of his water just like you.

‘‘My respect and loyalty to Bi-Han are absolute. After the death of his father, he made great innovations to move the clan forward. But sometimes he can succumb to his anger, and at those moments, even if we try to give him common sense as council members, he won’t hear anyone. It is impossible to change his mind when he makes a decision.’’

‘’Then what does it matter to the council if he is doing what he knows in the end?’’

From the way you asked the question, it was clear that you were really curious about the answer and trying to decipher the dynamic between them. A small smile appeared on Sektor’s face.

“Bi-Han can get angry easily, but he knows his responsibilities better than anyone. He is very strong-willed to fulfill them. Exceptions do not break the pedestal.’’

‘’So you’re saying that under all his scary appearance, he’s reasonable as long as we don’t touch a sore point?’’

‘’Isn’t it just like everybody?’’ Sektor said, the smile on his face widening a little more. ‘’I’m going to tell you a secret, like you, I think the woman is innocent. She doesn’t know who’s behind this.’’ When he said these things, he had made his voice too quiet for those outside to hear. You asked curiously.

‘‘How can you speak so confidently?’’

‘’I was present during the interrogation, and it became evident from the woman’s body language and speech that she had no knowledge of the situation.’’

‘‘And what is the secret part of it?’’

‘’The woman is alive.” Sektor left the glass in his hand on the table, leaned his chin on his clasped hands, and while he continued to talk to you without breaking eye contact, he maintained a dominant presence that held your attention.

‘’How so? Did you disobey Bi-Han’s orders?’’

‘’Partly. To be more precise, I can say I saved the life of an innocent person by taking her away from here.’’

’‘Oh.’’ You sat back, not knowing what to say. ‘’And why did you share this with me? You don’t even trust me.’’

‘’True, but I want to try. After all, you are part of this clan. Trust won’t build on its own, and I believe we need to start somewhere for this.’’

‘’So you’re extending an olive branch, are you?’’

As footsteps, signaling the arrival of others, began echoing in the corridor, Sektor muttered his final words before the doors swung open.

“There is no war between you and me, (y/n). It is true that you are a foreigner, but it is entirely up to you to change this fact.’’

As soon as Sektor concluded his words, the grand doors on both sides of the room swung open wide, revealing the entrance of the clan members. In particular, Bi-Han and the others streamed in with an air of authority. Simultaneously, a dozen helpers, deftly carrying trays of steaming, delectable dishes, entered through the opposite door.

The delicious smell of the feast filled the room, making you more aware of the tempting dishes arranged on the table. As the culinary delights were displayed, your hunger in contrast to the stress you’ve felt since composing a letter in your room, became more noticeable.

While quietly calculating which dish to choose first, you caught Bi-Han’s questioning gaze. He sat down on the chair next to you and asked in his usual cold, deep voice.

‘’What are you doing?’’

Although your cheeks turned pink due to the slight embarrassment of being caught, you didn’t let yourself down. You gently cleared your throat and threw your hair over your shoulder.

‘’They all look perfect. I was trying to decide which one to start first, but I’m having a hard time.’’

Tomas chuckled at your response from the other end of the table.

“I advise you to start with sweet-sour pork. The taste is absolutely legendary.’’

‘’You should taste the spring rolls too. I'm sure you'll like it.’’ Suggested Kuai Liang. He offered you a spring roll with chopsticks, surprising you with his gentlemanliness. Such approaches were rare in your own house, leaving you occasionally disoriented.

‘’She has arms, she can reach her own,’’ grumbled Bi-Han as he filled his plate with food, but no one paid much attention.

‘’Guys, you are all misguiding her. What you really need to try is Peking duck,’’ insisted Cyrax, pointing with his chopsticks to the dish he mentioned. Your cheeks warmed under the attention, marking the first time you didn’t feel truly uncomfortable with it. The interest and relevance they showed unexpectedly warmed your heart.

As everyone chatted and filled their plates, Bi-Han subtly added some tofu to yours without anyone noticing. When you stared at him in surprise, he looked ahead, almost pretending he hadn’t done it, assuming a guarded stance as if suggesting you do the same.

With the surprise lingering on your face, you decided to try the tofu first, popping one into your mouth. The taste was spicier and more bitter than expected, making you express your surprise. Bi-Han, despite taking care of his own food, watched your reaction out of the corner of his eye. You carefully wiped your mouth with a napkin, in case anything was smeared.

‘‘It’s quite hot,’’ you admitted. ‘’Very spicy.’’

‘’The dish you’re eating is called Mapo Tofu. Is it never made in your clan?’’ inquired Bi-Han, now fully attentive and curious about your answer.

‘’This kind of food isn’t cooked in our clan because my father doesn’t like spicy dishes. So, I can’t say it’s a taste I’m familiar with. I’m surprised that you like it too, frankly.���’

“Why?” Bi-Han focused on you, curiosity evident on his face. ‘’If you’re going to attribute it to the fact I’m a cryomancer-‘’

‘’But isn’t it surprising?’’ you interrupted with a small chuckle.

“No.’’

‘’The tofu I just ate was as hot as if it had come out of the dragon’s mouth. You can even spray fire with a few of them.’’

‘’That’s because your taste buds aren’t used to it. Also, according to your illogical understanding, then I should be enjoying tasteless and cold dishes that contain no spices.’’

In an attempt to stifle the laughter welling up inside you, you reached for your refilled water glass and took a substantial sip. The ongoing banter, much like the one Bi-Han had criticized a few days ago when he deemed your stargazing childish, mirrored the very judgment he had passed. However, this time, you opted to continue the conversation rather than shutting it down. It marked the lengthiest exchange Bi-Han had engaged in without sarcasm since your arrival.

‘’Yes, all these things you’re counting also align with your character,’’ you affirmed. Despite Bi-Han’s automatic frown, you maintained a calm, friendly tone without yielding. “Although, on second thought, you’re right; there must be something that feeds your mood. Am I wrong?’’

Before Bi-Han could respond, laughter erupted from Kuai Liang across the table. Tomas, Cyrax, and even Sektor, less overtly, stifled their amusement. Observing their reactions, Bi-Han emitted an irritated growl.

‘‘What the hell are you all looking at? Eat your damn food.’’

A muffled laugh rippled through them, and as Bi-Han exhaled a deep breath of icy smoke, the others refocused on their meals, avoiding further provocation.

The room, adorned with hanging lights casting a warm, soft glow, emanated a tranquil ambiance. A calm conversation filled the space, punctuated by occasional questions that allowed you to participate. Listening to their daily routines and being part of the camaraderie reignited an ache in your heart.

In your own house, women, including yourself and your mother, were barred from active participation in conversations between your father, clan elders and even your siblings. Speaking was deemed great rudeness, and until today, you had adhered to quietly eating your meals and waiting until they concluded. Now, the opposite experience left you offering brief answers, apprehensive of overstepping unfamiliar boundaries.

Fortunately, no one probed into the evasive responses, likely attributing it to lingering shyness. It wasn’t precisely a falsehood, but the unfamiliarity of this environment left you unsure of where the boundaries started and ended, instilling a fear of making mistakes.

‘‘(y/n),’’ Bi-Han’s hoarse voice interrupted your musings. Meeting his gaze, you wondered about the reason for his summons. ‘’Walk with me a little after you’ve finished your dinner.’’

Choosing not to question the motive, you simply responded, ‘’Of course.’’

Half an hour passed, and when the fruit service concluded, Sektor rose first from the table. Cyrax followed about ten minutes later, prompting Bi-Han to stand and signal for you to do the same with a nod. As you left the room after exchanging a ‘goodnight’ with a smile, the two remaining brothers glanced at you with curiosity and questioning expressions.

One of the two ninjas tasked with protecting you handed you a coat as you walked out the door. Surprised by this, Bi-Han caught the expression on your face while you quietly put on the coat that was handed to you and explained.

‘’I asked for the coat to be brought. It’s colder outside than last night.’’

‘’I thought you couldn’t feel the cold.’’

‘’It is so.’’ Bi-Han said simply. The fact that he did not take his intense gaze off you for a moment while saying this did something strange to your heart. You felt the cold like everyone else, but you were trained to be resilient to all kinds of bad conditions and negativity. Although you could tolerate the bitter cold up to a point, there was no need for Bi-Han not to know this fact. And you also liked the unexpected gesture, no matter how much you wanted to deny it.

Fortunately, Bi-Han quickly returned to his usual arrogant mood, making it easier for you to get rid of unwanted feelings.

“After all, birds can’t survive in winter.’’

‘’I’m sure there are a few survival tricks in them that they know.’’ You said, lifting your chin slightly to get a better view of him. Bi-Han’s eyes narrowed in a way that showed he was having fun.

‘‘We’ll see about that.’’

Bi-Han, walking in front, led you from the back terrace into the garden. The cold evening air took away all the warmth from your face, which was warmed inside. The air was fresh and the sky was clear. Since there were not many people walking around, it was calm and quiet. When you arrived almost running to catch up with Bi-Han’s wide steps, you curiously expressed the question you wanted to ask all along.

‘‘Why did you call me over?’’

‘’To talk.’’

‘’To talk?’’

‘’Do you want me to spell it out for you to understand, too?’’

You frowned at his sarcastic reply.

‘‘You could have talked to me at the table, too.’’

During your argument, when Bi-Han slowed down his steps so that you could catch up with him, you started walking next to him. A few seconds passed, and when you realized that Bi-Han would not answer you with a prolonged silence, you sighed, ‘’What do you want to talk about?’’ You asked.

With the question, Bi-Han’s hard, illegible gaze found yours.

‘‘About your family.’’ His brown eyes, very dark in the moonlight, went down to the scar hidden by your turtleneck sweater. Even though he couldn’t see it, you moved restlessly where you were, because it bothered you that he knew where the scar was. ‘‘And your past.’’ Bi-Han said after a while.

“And why should I do that? There is no reason for me to open my private life to you.”

“You are my wife, so it is important that I know everything about you.”

“Oh, really? Then how about it being mutual, grandmaster?” You used a sarcastic tone against him, echoing the attitude he displayed towards you a little while ago. “If you want to exchange information, you should also reveal something about yourself. It can’t be one-sided.”

“You know I wouldn’t do that.” Bi-Han stopped walking. While you couldn’t discern exact anger, his tone hinted at displeasure with the conversation’s direction. It made you smile at least he was beginning to understand that you wouldn’t comply with everything he said.

“Then you may suppose that this conversation is over.” You stated it in a polite but clear tone. Without waiting for Bi-Han to resume walking, you heard him talking behind you as you started walking ahead.

“What do you want to know?”

“There, if you keep on answering like that—wait a minute, what?”

Turning on your heels, you stared with big eyes at Bi-Han, who was standing a little further away, with a confused expression that showed you weren’t sure you had heard correctly.

“What do you want to know?” said Bi-Han calmly, repeating his question. He covered the distance in two big steps, and when he stood in front of you, you tilted your head back slightly and looked at him.

Normally, his hair would have come out of its bun, tufts disheveled and scattered due to the workouts and studies he did during the day. However, at the moment, it caught your attention that it was standing properly, as if he had just collected it. When you caught the smell of soap rising slightly from him, you realized that he had just been washed. He probably should have gone to the hot springs before he came to dinner.

The places where the moonlight touched his face softened his expression with a silvery light, while his shadowed lines were hard and angular. It must have been a cruel trick of fate for such a cold and arrogant man to be blessed with a handsome face.

“Have you always wanted to have this title?” You said, averting your gaze from his eyes, which were surrounded by long black lashes.

“Yes, I’ve been trained for this all my life.”

“It doesn’t seem like an easy life.”

“Success, as I see it, involves the sacrifices we’re willing to make. I grew up knowing that one day, I’d have this title, and I accepted that reality.”

You responded thoughtfully.

“I can imagine it’s a difficult path. Do you believe you make a good leader?”

The unexpected question caught Bi-Han off guard, prompting him to pause and study your face with furrowed brows. As you two continued walking, the snow crunched beneath your steps, your breath visible in the cold air, forming a mist. The temperature dropped further, the chilly air biting at your cheeks and nose.

“Are you making an insinuation?”

“No, I really wonder what you’re thinking.”

Bi-Han’s gaze was aimed at a distant point rather than at you. His face was again darkened with an expression that you could not read.

“I can’t answer that question, but I know what kind of leader I don’t want to be,” he said. His voice was unexpectedly honest. When you were standing in front of a snow-covered bench together, Bi-Han melted the snow with just a hand gesture, leaving it dry enough to sit on.

“My father has always remained closed to innovations throughout his rule of the clan. While technology was advancing every day, he was determined to cling to the traditional ways without adapting to the changes. However, history has shown us that those who do not adapt to innovation are always doomed to extinction. I want to do the right thing for my clan; we have the potential to achieve much more than it seems. Just being content with what is happening will lead to inevitable decline after a while.’’

“I don’t think you will experience such a thing,” you said in a polite voice, picking up where he left off. You were both seated at either end of the bench, with a space between you so decently marked that one person could comfortably enter. “Maybe I’ve been here for about a month, but I can see how much you put your clan at the forefront.”

“What kind of leader do you think I am?”

“Do you want an honest answer or-”

“Honest,” Bi-Han interrupted, not letting you continue your words. “Compared to most people here, you’re not afraid when you talk to me. That’s why I’m curious about your thoughts.”

It was true that you were not afraid because you did not exactly anger him. Unlike a segment that everyone is afraid of seeing and therefore makes sure not to even breathe in the same place as him, you haven’t seen the other side of him yet.

“I would say that you are an ambitious person. You are stubborn and determined, you can stand behind what you believe is right to the end. But at the same time, you are rude and arrogant, you do not allow people to express their own opinions. You intimidate them with fear.”

“I don’t need to hear their thought. I know what’s right better than they do.”

“It’s true that experience makes you different from them, but one of the important features of being a good leader is being able to listen to what others are saying. It’s not just listening, it’s communicating that’s the main thing. Fear is a compulsion, whereas respect is earned.” As your gaze turned to the ornamental pool in the distance, your next words poured from your lips as a whisper. “My father too could never decipher the difference between these two.”

Bi-Han looked at you silently with his chin resting on his clasped hands, leaning his elbows on his legs, which he had spread out from side to side. With this posture, his large, muscular body had shrunk a little, as if he was giving you space to talk more comfortably, trying to make himself look less threatening to you.

‘’What do you mean?’’

“Through fear, you can easily compel someone to obey you, but that person does not willingly open their heart, thoughts, or soul to you. Respect, on the other hand, is the admiration one feels for a person’s qualities, values, and achievements. Being with them gives you strength, they won’t hurt you, and you want to follow them wherever they go. My father was a tough man, and achieving the position of his right-hand man was considered a courageous task. That’s why they were constantly changing like the seasons, as no one wanted to be near him due to fear.’’

While discussing your past without delving into too many details, Bi-Han’s gaze was attentive, as if he was absorbing the most crucial fact of his life. To be more comfortable on the bench, you slightly turned your body to the side, leaning your back against the armrest, bringing your knees close enough to touch each other.

‘’It must have been hard for you.’’ Surprisingly, there was no usual condescending tone in Bi-Han’s voice, instead, it carried sincere understanding—an unexpected development for you.

‘’My mother was my greatest blessing. She was understanding, kind, and caring. In short, she possessed all the characteristics that my father did not have.’’ As your gaze shifted from the ornamental pool to the stars in the sky, your voice trembled with a longing you couldn’t suppress. ‘’I miss her.’’

At that moment, Bi-Han’s knee touched yours. His movement was so slight and imperceptible that, at first, you thought you were imagining it. However, the coolness emanating from him was too realistic to pretend otherwise.

“It seems mothers have always held a different place compared to fathers. My mother was a good person too. She was always a buffer between me and my old man.’’

Against his small consolation, the lump in your throat grew. Why did he start treating you like this? Everything would be easier if he kept acting as he did on the first night you got married. Instead of getting to know him, he should have remained a stranger, all these conversations and tiny gestures should not have happened. You’ve already opened up to even the slightest emotional warmth, and you couldn’t undermine the responsibility you felt towards your mission with your own hands. How would you face your brothers and your clan?

He’s your enemy.

When your brother’s voice hissed inside your mind like a poisonous snake, you quickly composed yourself and straightened your seat.

‘‘Sorry, but I’d better get inside. it’s getting pretty cold. Goodnight, grandmaster. Thank you for this little conversation.’’

Without giving Bi-Han a chance to say anything, you quickly got up from where you were sitting and started walking back towards the temple with brisk steps. All the while, you could feel Bi-Han’s burning gaze on you.

It’s a mission. You said to yourself. Keep your feelings out of your task.

*******

P.S : Their knees touched aaaaaaaaa :3

Tagging @mmeerraa ❤️

[mybworlds]

Chapter 6: Dirty talk

Pairing: joel miller x f!reader (no use of Y/N) | Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W.C.: 3.8k

Summary: Your life sounds perfect: you live with a perfect man, you live in your dream house, you do the job you love, you don't miss anything, except love and passion.

Warnings: no use of Y/N, use of you, reader is a photographer, reader has no physical descriptions except hair (no type or color) long enough to hold on to, unspecified age gap, Joel and reader are two cheaters, for a while. Smut, use of pet names, dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected PiV but the first time, creampies, comeplay, oral (both f and m recieving), exhibitionism, size kink, personal use of an unspecified sex toy. No outbreak here. Let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist

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Thx for the dividers @saradika-graphics

Taglist @harriedandharassed

"A little to the right, perfect," you say before taking another photograph.

You're in the middle of a photo shoot for another wedding and you're instructing the bride on what poses to take-not too serious, not too smiling, kissing, looking at each other.

Your life has resumed with some regularity, but there is something new. You and Joel talk almost every day.

You are aware that exchanging messages does not imply anything, in short he sends very trivial messages such as how are you, everything okay, your day is full and things like that.

Anything compromising and which is definitely good.

When he texts you, you inevitably think about the two intimate moments you spent with him and at the same time his life, you understand why he only seeks these kinds of encounters.

He has suffered so much and now he tries to hide any kind of feeling with just sex.

You do not share this choice of his, but you understand it.

It is definitely easier to live this way.

And, you?

Do you also want to live like this? One apparent perfect life and another hidden one with a man who won't commit? It would perhaps be a good compromise if you were like that too.

As you take pictures of the newlyweds, a man and a woman of about forty-five or forty-six, you think that you once even thought about marriage to Patrick. That thought crossed your mind five years ago, before you two quarreled and before you began to have strong doubts about your relationship. For five years you and your partner were fine, common ideas, common values, both of you busy with work, neither of you wanted a child, then you started to think about what it would be like to get married and have a child with him, with the man you loved, and you talked to him about it.

A marriage is planned together and a child is made in two, you thought.

When you talked to Patrick about it, he almost slumped down on your couch in the living room resting his elbows on his thighs and ran his hands through his hair, then looked up at you and with a smile you will never forget said, "How the fuck do you think of that!" you remember that his smile and those words froze you. You did not speak to each other for almost a week despite sharing the same house. One would come into the house when the other went out, you ate and slept in different rooms, not even a glance, nothing.

Eventually, you decided to start taking the pill, you told him the excuse of your period, but you actually did it for him so when he approaches you and wants to make love, he doesn't have to be afraid that you might get pregnant and about the wedding you never talked about it again.

"Well, we're done." you announce causing the newlyweds to relax as they exchange a complicit smile and a light kiss while clasping hands tightly "Let's continue later by the cake."

"Well," she says, "please help yourself to the buffet." she invites you by pointing to the corner designated for refreshments.

After thanking her, you make your way to the buffet and grab a non-alcoholic pineapple cocktail and a plate with some food, then sit aside on a corner of the terrace chosen by the bride and groom. You are surrounded by the scent of hundreds of roses, you sigh.

As you drink, you get a message from Joel.

Joel Miller [07:43 p.m.]

Are you alone?

You [07:43 P.M.]

No, I'm at a wedding. Photoshoot.

Joel Miller [07:44 P.M.]

You remember the last one?

You remember it, the images of you and him in that room come back to your mind.

You [07:45 P.M.]

Yes.

Joel Miller [07:45 P.M.]

Unforgettable.

He sends another message after a while.

Joel Miller [07:46 P.M.]

You really needed me that day.

You stare at the cell phone screen for a few minutes, he's still texting.

Joel Miller [07:49 P.M.]

You still need me . . . even though it's wrong.

It is. It's wrong. Toward Patrick, toward what you always thought you were.

You [07:52 P.M.]

There is no point in telling us that it won't happen again. We both know that there will be another time and another time again, so why deny it? I feel guilty, but I don't hide the fact that I loved every single moment with you.

A more compromising message can't be.

You [07:53 P.M.]

Not pretending to be remorseful and not writing to me is wrong because I don't think I tied you down somewhere and did it all by myself.

Maybe you went a little overboard . . .

Joel Miller [07:54 P.M.]

Would you want me tied up? How perverse you are . .

You feel the heat rise to your cheeks, you didn't mean that. . .

Joel Miller [07:54 P.M.]

It would be fun to tie you up and see how you react. I can almost see you or hear you pleading.

You swallow opening your eyes wide open, fuck. . .

Joel Miller [07:55 P.M.]

And you can see yourself?

You look up from your phone, everyone around you is dancing, laughing, joking, raising their glasses. You, on the other hand, find yourself imagining yourself in a semi-dark room lit by dozens of scented candles, you are tied to the bed and he is on top of you caressing you inch by inch.

You shiver and feel your arousal build up between your briefs, oh . . .

Joel Miller [07:56 P.M.]

Where has your imagination taken you? I'm curious . .

Then I'll tell you what I'm thinking about.

You [07:57 P.M.]

Miller, how perverse you are!

You send this first message, but then the idea of writing these kinds of messages tantalizes you and so you respond.

You [07:57 P.M.]

We are both naked in bed, I am tied to the bed and you are kissing and licking every little part of me.

You're doomed if Patrick reads these messages!

Good thing you have the unlock code on your phone.

Miller responds immediately.

Joel Miller [07:58 P.M.]

And I'm supposed to be the pervert? You lil brat. . .

Mh, would you like me to tie you to the bed? How are you belly up or belly down?

I'm trying to imagine you, and if I concentrate well, I can even see the shivers rippling through your skin, I can hear your sighs and prayers for more.

You are so fucking soft.

You try hard not to react to what he is writing to you, but it is impossible now.

You get up and walk away. You go to the bathroom and lock yourself in.

You are on fire. Your skin is for real sprinkled with chills.

Joel has written to you again.

Joel Miller [07:59 P.M.]

I wish for real I had you under me right now.

I feel between my lips your hard nipples, you're wiggling under me and asking for more and more.

You cover your eyes for a moment and your mind takes you back to exactly where you imagined you were, Joel holds you in his arms in this pleasurable grip, you even feel his tongue on your breasts, a soft moan escapes you.

Joel Miller [08:00 P.M.]

Can you feel me?

With one hand I'm tasting your pussy….

"Oh, Christ." you moan softly.

Joel Miller [08:00 P.M.]

You're soaked.

You really are, you've never had these kinds of conversations, but you can almost feel his hand poking between your legs, you bite your lower lip softly closing your eyes and leaning your head against the cold wall.

Joel Miller [08:02 P.M.]

You are already about to come, but I stop.

You read this message and instinctively your hand drops between your folds, a moan escapes you. Fortunately, you are alone.

With your other hand you struggle to respond to his messages.

You [08:04 P.M.]

I feel you . . . I see you . . your cock can't wait to be squeezed between my folds.

Joel Miller [08:05 P.M.]

Baby girl, how I want you.

I wish I was between your legs.

You [08:05 P.M.]

Then, take me. Now.

Joel Miller [08:05 P.M.]

Oh, you're so tight, so warm . . .

Your fingers are massaging you rhythmically, you have to resort to all your self-control not to moan uncomfortably, you don't want to be caught pleasuring yourself alone in a public bathroom.

"Joel," you moan softly when you are now close to your orgasm, you just repeat his name louder and louder, louder and louder then your orgasm explodes and for a moment your vision blurs.

"Fuck," you groan staying in that position for a while, then you find the strength to pick up the phone again and answer him.

You [08:09 P.M.]

Miller, as soon as I finish, I want to see you.

Even at midnight or in the middle of the night, but I want to see you.

Joel Miller [08:10 P.M.]

You owe me an orgasm.

I'll be waiting for you.

This is my address.

Joel gives you his address and that gives you enough energy to get out of the bathroom and do as fast as you can, take as many pictures as you can. You may have put some anxiety in the bride and groom, but you have your own needs and priorities too.

It is almost 1 a.m. when you reach Joel's house. His house is a two-story house, not too far from downtown, is very large for one man only, you find yourself thinking just before you knock on his door. You knock on his door and he greets you with only his boxers on, his hair tousled, and a crooked smile on his face.

"Come," he says moving to let you in, you enter and see his house for the first time. You let your gaze wander and see mostly wooden furnishings, a guitar leaning under a half-open window, lots of small wood carvings immediately jumps out at you, then your attention shifts to the man's hands that are on your shoulders, they are as delicate as feathers and that is enough to make you shiver.

"I didn't think you'd respond to those messages," he tells you, taking you denim jacket off from your shoulders and leaving you in just the black top. His beard tickles your skin behind your ear, then your neck and shoulders, first on one side and then the other.

"If you write me such things, I answer. Even though it was the first time." you respond by closing your eyes and finding his hands and intertwining your fingers tightly.

"The first time? Well, not bad." he comments without stopping to tease your neck and behind your ear in a slowly and gentle caress "You owe me an orgasm," he adds reminding you of what he had written to you a few hours ago.

"That's why I'm here," you reply, smiling and turning to face him.

"Really? I thought you were here to chat or something."

You shake your head, "Ssst," you say as you slowly and softly place your lips on his and let your hands slip into his dark curls and pressing yourself against him, you then let your lips wander down to his neck partly covered with a thin layer of hair, you feel him holding his breath as you find yourself smiling.

"Do you enjoy driving me crazy?" he asks you, trying to slip off your top, but you block his hands by entwining your fingers again.

"It seems to me that you've already had enough fun this afternoon provoking me, don't you think?" you tell him kissing his shoulder blades savoring every inch of his skin "Where is your room?" you ask him loosening the grip of his hands and reaching for the elastic band of his boxers.

"Upstairs." he answers you holding his breath.

You enjoy stroking his thick mace a few times, then you pull away and find him with his eyes closed and a tense expression contracting his face, he opens his eyes and you find his dark irises peering back at you for a long time, you kiss him slowly and then go to his bedroom.

You are on him and seeing him completely surrendered to your caresses and kisses makes you feel powerful.

He looks at you with wide eyes and parted lips as he sees you descend on his erection inch by inch, when he is completely buried inside you, you close your eyes and a sigh escapes you. His hands are on your hips, "You're so tight, so wet fo' me," he tells you, just increasing his grip on your hips as you gasp "I can feel you all the way up here." you coo placing a hand on your stomach.

"It's so much to take and you do it beautifully," he comments causing you to open your eyes and find yourself eyes to eyes, he smiles at you finding your hands and squeezing again. In a slow motion you rise from on top of him causing his intimacy to come almost all the way out of your pussy and then climb back up just as slowly, you find yourself both moaning softly.

You are almost about to come when your phone rings and you stop shaking, the ringtone invades the room and you have to make almost a superhuman effort to remember that it is in the pocket of your jeans there at the end of the bed, Joel is still inside you when you answer the phone. It's Patrick.

"Shit!" you exclaim.

Joel stares at you questioningly, you show him the name on the screen, and he throws his head back on the pillow.

"Hey," you reply.

"Where are you?"

"Around," you answer evasively.

"At this hour?"

"Yes, it went long," you reply, deglutinating.

"Boring as a ceremony?" he asks you.

A gasp escapes your lips as Joel begins to move under you resuming a slow pace.

"Oh . . ." your eyes wide open as you look toward Joel who gives you a crooked smile.

Bastard.

"Are you taking the stairs?" Patrick asks you.

"Wh - what?" you stammer feeling the contractions of your next orgasm ready to overwhelm you.

"Are you taking the stairs?"

"Yes. Yes, the - the stairs. Ah, yes! Ah. . The stairs. Um . . . oh! Patrick, can I . . talk to you tomorrow, okay?"

"Aren't you going to ask me about the meeting?"

The cell phone slips out of your hands, ending up on the mattress as you place your hands on Joel's chest, which is continuing to move beneath you with increasing rhythm.

"Oh, fuck . . ." you curse, reaching for the phone "Sorry, um, if it's not . . . ah, if it's not urgent we'll talk in the morning, good night."

You don't wait for Patrick's good night because you immediately end the call and take to pushing yourself against him as well, while he lays his hands on your hips holding you still and ready to receive him.

"It feels so good," you comment gasping.

"Your pussy is made for my cock," he replies breathlessly as well.

You hide your head in the crook of his neck as both of you go at each other thrusts until your orgasm explodes and you scream each other's name.

Even after your breaths settle, you remain with your head buried in his neck and your hands in his curls, he wraps both arms around your back.

"Best orgasm of my life," he comments in your ear.

"Are we even?" you ask him, gently kissing his neck.

He nods as you are about to move from on top of him, but he increases his grip "Stay like that a little longer." he tells you kissing one shoulder softly "I like feeling you full of me."

You giggle, "All right, whatever."

You still shiver and feel the contractions of your orgasm . . . after a while you lift yourself up letting him out from inside you and you are about to leave, about to put your clothes back on. You are sure that since you are having just sex encounters he doesn't want you to sleep with him; instead, he grabs your wrist gently in his hand "Stay," he tells you lifting the sheet to accommodate you down there too.

You take a long look at his face, "Are you sure you want me to stay?"

He nods, "Yes, come."

You don't fight, you slip under the sheet lying next to him with your back to him and feeling him move behind you and wrapping an arm around you to hold you tightly to him.

"Didn't you tell me you didn't want serious relationships?" you ask him after a few minutes of silence.

"Yes."

"Didn't you tell me you just wanted to get laid?" you ask him again after a while.

He doesn't answer you, you turn to him, find him with his eyes closed and lips parted, you smile shaking your head; then, you close the light and let his breathing and strong grip make you feel protected and take you to the world of dreams.

The next day when you wake up, he is no longer beside you. For a moment you think he's left you a note somewhere telling you to make yourself at home, but that he doesn't want to find you when he gets back, or something like that, but there's none of that in his room.

You get dressed and then go downstairs and find him intent on pouring coffee into what you imagine is his cup, you see him sipping his coffee very slowly, and you hear him moan occasionally. You smile. You don't even remember when you watched Patrick eat breakfast, you look down and find yourself wondering if you didn't get it all wrong, maybe . . .

"Hey, g' morning!" he greets you addressing you with a big smile as you approach him returning the greeting "How did you sleep?" he asks.

"Oddly well," you reply "coffee?"

"Yes, here use this," he says handing you another clean cup "why oddly?"

"I usually can't sleep in a bed that's not my own," you reply, shrugging your shoulders barely and then pouring your coffee into the cup Joel gave you.

"Mine is special," he jokes, you sip your coffee and a small smile appears on your face.

"Sure," you say looking at him and realizing that he's looking at you, too, "I didn't think . . in short, that you would wanted to share your bed with me," you admit.

"As a matter of fact, neither did I. You know, it's the first time for me too in a long time. You know what I mean." you nod "We had a good time, this time too." you nod again sipping your coffee a few more times and then putting your cup down in the sink and crossing your arms.

His sentence resonates inside you, resonates almost like a warning, like a wake-up call.

"I'd better go now," you say as you lower your gaze and head for the door, not sure what to say or how to comment on his last sentence because you know he's right, you've had a good time, but it's not something that can be followed.

Joel whispers your name as he follows you toward the door, you turn and find yourselves locked in a long silent embrace. He has his nose hidden in your hair, you have your face in the crook of his neck. You breathe in each other's scent, then look up into his eyes and greet him after stroking his face in passing.

When you are on the street, away from the residential area where Joel lives, you slow your pace to a stop. What you're doing doesn't make sense. You're going back to your fake perfect life, to your fake perfect man, but what's the point? You know Joel doesn't want a serious relationship and that's fine, but what about you? Do you want to pretend you're in a stable relationship, while behind his back you're cheating on him by fucking someone else?

You go back, this time at a brisk pace. You hurry up the stairs to his house and knock on his door, he opens a few moments later, he doesn't even have time to say your name that you pounce on his lips pushing him inside the house.

You close the door with your shoes and wrap your arms around his neck, he is only surprised for a few moments by your impetuous return, but then he surrounds your torso with his arms places his hands under your buttocks and lifts you up. You encircle his torso with your legs as he carries you into his living room, onto his couch. Being crushed under his body, oh what a delicious feeling.

Can you ever get enough?

You undress at the speed of light, then you move to him. You never loved being on, but with him . . that's different, too. This way you have the sensation of feeling his cock all the way down your throat, and then mounting him makes you feel so hard. You grab his already throbbing erection and let him dig inside you slowly, "Fuck!" you exclaim in unison as you recline your head, you backwards and him on the pillow, "mmhm," you moan leaning toward him placing a kiss on his lips and then starting to move. You move slowly on him savoring the contractions of your cunt and his cock, moaning continuously "You're so big," you moan squeezing your eyes shut as he encourages you between sighs like "You ride me so well," or says in a choked voice other phrases like "The way you squeeze my cock no one does" or "Ride me faster" and you obey, leaning forward slightly toward his face and speeding up your thrusts. The angle changes, the speed increases, and you find yourself moaning even more "Fuck, Joel," you meow as you feel your teary eyes "you make me feel so good, so good," you moan more and more uncontrollably.

"You just love this cock, you've come back on purpose to mount me like the good fucking girl you are," he says laying his hands behind your buttocks as he comes to meet your thrusts increasing the force and making you see stars behind your eyelids.

The sloshing sound between your bodies grows louder and louder, "Harder," he encourages you by giving you a light smack on the buttock, and you increase until you find yourself crying out and abandoning yourself completely against him as he continues to move hard in and out of you, then he lets out a cry by wrapping his arms around you.

You are sweaty and without strength, he lays a kiss on your cheek as you place your head on his chest and lift your eyes to his face. You hear his heart beating fast and it is a sound you are beginning to like, you smile. You feel like a fool because you know that all this will never lead to anything more between you, you close your eyes feeling only the beating of his heart, when you feel one of his fingers caressing your lower lip and you open your eyes again finding his dark eyes fixed on you, you say nothing, you just enjoy the sweet and delicate feeling of his finger caressing your mouth, your nose, your profile, your cheeks.

It's at that moment that you realize you are screwed and can no longer do without each other . . .

[lemon-russ]

No Ambassador today, just getting a talking to from Guillidad.

Part 16/ ???

< previous || next >

Ao3 || Taglist request ||

Cato Sicarius x F!Reader

CW: Anxiety, Mentions of sex, not much going on today

Summary: Cato has a heart to heart with his dad

word count: 2,882

thanks for the dividers @squishyowl! Taglist: @sleepyfan-blog @undeaddream @scriberye

Cato sits across from Titus, shoved into the back of a too small cargo hold.

Titus shifts in his seat, his knee grazing Catos as he tries to find a comfortable spot while hunched in the tiny seat.

Cato scoffs, knocking his knee aside with his own. “Don't touch me.” he grumbles.

Titus shoots him an annoyed look. “Oh please, don't start. You're the one who suggested we hop an earlier ship.” He snaps back.

Cato scootches himself back against the wall of the ship a little harder, crossing his arms. A small shake in the craft makes him bump his head on the short ceiling, and he groans as he curls himself forward.

“I didn't know it was made for apparently a single, very small baseline.” He huffs. The Ambassador would be plenty at home on the tiny transport, he thinks to himself. He imagines them stuck in it together, her little body tucked into his lap, him holding her protectively, his face nestled in her hair and smelling the sweet smell of her perfume-

Titus bumps his knee against his again, snapping him from his thoughts. Cato scowls and knocks his leg away again. “Stop that.”

Titus returns a scowl of his own. “You stop. You think I want to be stuck a foot apart from you while you go off in daydream land about the Ambassador?”

Cato flushes. “I was not-” he starts to protest.

“Oh like hell you weren't.” Titus snaps. “I've never seen your face get so… so soft except when you look at her.” He grumbles, trying to stretch himself to the other side. He was a bit bigger than Cato, and obviously was having a harder time with their cramped seats. “You think I want to be stuck face to face with you while you're staring off, daydreaming and thinking lecherous things about a high ranking official?”

“Oh shut up-” Cato mumbles, feeling his face warm further. A week ago he'd kill someone for even suggesting he would be distracted by such base things as a baseline woman. But now here he was, doing exactly that, and he can't even deny it.

Even still, he wishes she was here with him. It'd been two days since she was retrieved by their primarch. If he'd known that dance would likely be the last time he was allowed to see her, he'd have focused more on her instead of getting distracted with wanting to piss Titus off.

He pointedly stares at the wall, leaning back and crossing his arms, trying to look annoyed. He didn't like that Titus could read his thoughts through his expression. He wasn't sure what he meant by his face looking “soft”, his face was made of muscle and skin, of course it was “soft” in some parts. And hard in others. Stupid Titus, he thinks to himself.

He glances over at his battle brother, who was staring at the other wall in a similar pose. Cato's eyes narrow as he studies his brother’s face. His eyes were…. Eyes? Somewhat closed? His mouth was… frowning a little? Cato huffs a little. This tells him nothing. Stupid Titus must have been lying to get under his skin and just guessed what he was feeling.

“Hey-” Cato gruffs. “What are you thinking?” He asks.

Titus looks at him and furrows his brow. “What?”

“Your thoughts.” Cato says tiredly. “Tell me them. I'm trying to see something.”

Titus’ face scrunches. “Uh… I'm thinking I'm pissed off and annoyed having to be stuck with you like this for hours?” He says, eyeing his brother incredulously.

Cato frowns. “Hmph.” He huffs, turning back to staring at the wall. He couldn't tell that at all from Titus’ face, it just looked like face. Not harder or softer or any other texturally different than any other time. Stupid lying Titus, pretending he could read thoughts through faces. Maybe he's a secret psyker. Maybe he could report him as a secret psyker and get the satisfaction of watching him be dragged off by inquisitors.

The thought makes him smile to himself, and Titus sighs. “What on Terra is so funny, you cryptic ass?” he asks tiredly.

Cato bristles, snapping his eyes back to Titus. “What- stop that.” He snaps, “How are you doing that?”

Titus frowns and knits his brow. “Doing… what…?”

Cato scowls. “Reading my thoughts. I know you're not just doing it from my face.” He sits up and side eyes Titus. “Are you a covert psyker…?” He asks in a low, paranoid tone.

Titus’ jaw drops a little. “You… you can't be serious.” He says, studying Cato's face, his own baffled.

Cato frowns harder, and Titus lets out a deep sigh. “By the emperor, this explains so much, yet raises so many more questions…” he mumbles, shaking his head and turning back to stare at the wall.

Cato scoffs and turns back to his own wall. “Stupid lying psyker. I'm onto you.” he growls, curling in on himself defensively.

Titus rubs the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes closed. “How in the god emperor's name did you manage to seduce a woman…” he mumbles under his breath.

Cato pouts to himself, ignoring his cryptic maybe-psyker gene brother. He tries to keep his mind blank, but his overworked thoughts eventually fall back to the Ambassador. A pit forms in his stomach at the thought that he'll probably not only never be allowed to guard her again, but Guilliman likely would ban him from so much as sharing a planet with her.

Maybe he'd be consigned to a death oath if Guilliman was angry enough. He wasn't sure there was anything specifically in the codex about sleeping with the primarch's top Ambassador, but Guilliman wrote the codex, so he could likely be found guilty just in spirit. Even then, if he survived whatever mission he'd be sworn to go do or die trying, even if he was forgiven, then what? He'd still be forced apart from his Ambassador.

“Hey.” Titus’ voice breaks him from his spiral, catching him off guard. He glances at Titus, who actually looked somewhat… well, not angry. Was he worried? What face had Cato been making now? Or was it more of his brother's psyker powers reading his anxious mind?

“What?” Cato asks, pulling himself together and sitting upright more, forcing his face into a glare.

Titus just frowns more. “You, uh, look a little stressed.” He says awkwardly, shifting so he can stretch a leg out. “You really that worried about going home…?”

Cato looks away, trying to keep his face neutral. “No.” He lied, “Just wondering what my death oath will be. There's not much in the Galaxy that would pose a suitable threat to me, maybe I'll end up a one man army against an ork invasion or something.” He says with a forced smirk. “So I guess you'll be in charge while I'm gone.”

Titus chuckles a little. “Cocky bastard as always. I doubt you'll be sent on a death oath. It's not like Calgar is doling the punishment, it's Lord Guilliman.”

“Well-” Cato shifts in the cramped seat, “I suppose it depends on what the Ambassador told him. And if he's calming down or getting angrier while I'm gone.” He shudders internally, praying it was the former.

Titus looks at his face a moment in silence, making Cato squirm and frown. “What?” He asks gruffly.

He shakes his head a little. “Nothing. I wouldn't worry. Whatever you've done to the Ambassador, she likes you. And I don't think Guilliman would condemn you to a death oath if it would upset her.” He says, shifting back to looking at the wall. “But you should stay on her good side. If you upset her, Guilliman would have more fuel to exile you.”

Cato huffs out his nose. “As if I'll ever see her again.”

“True.” Titus says, then smirks and glances back at Cato. “I'll tell her you were all soft and pathetic over her when I guard her again though, don't worry.”

Cato scowls, crossing his arms and looking away again. “You're such an asshole, Demetrian.” He mumbles.

Titus smacks his leg with the side of his own. “Stop calling me by my first name or I'll tell her you ran off with a resort girl the second she was gone. That will get you sent to a death world.” He threatens, but his tone is teasing.

Cato rolls his eyes. “And I'd conquer and come back just to tell her what a lying asshole you are before you sink your claws into her in my stead.” He retorts, smacking his leg back.

Titus chuckles. “You keep assuming I'm as vile as you. Whatever helps you sleep, pervert.”

Cato opens his mouth to retort when he's stopped by a jolt of the ship as it starts to port. He feel a cold wash down his spine and the pit return to his stomach.

Titus’ teasing smile falls as he watches the color drain from his brother’s face. He sighs and gives him a nod. “Welcome home, Captain. Emperor have mercy on you.” He says in a more solemn tone.

Cato nods back without meeting his eyes. He hopes the Emperor would do just that.

_________________________________

Cato stands before Guilliman's desk, a mirror of how he stood nervously before him worried, he'd be punished for failing to protect the Ambassador, what feels like ages ago now.

Except that day he was worried for no reason, and his gene father quickly assuaged his worries. Now Guilliman's usually tired but kind eyes are seething and cold as he silently stares Cato down. He'd been glaring at him silently for 4 minutes and 37 seconds now, and Cato could hardly manage to keep his expression neutral.

Finally, his primarch sighs and leans forward to support his elbows on his large desk, folding his hands together. “Captain Sicarius.” He says, breaking the silence.

Cato nods, swallowing a dry gulp. “My Lord.”

Guilliman pulls an old, worn copy of the codex astartes from a nearby shelf and drops it on the desk. The crack of the impact echoes off the walls, the only sound for a few moments.

“I have scoured and reread the words I know by heart, and I cannot find a concrete rule you have transgressed upon.” He finally says.

Cato starts to let out a held breath from his nose, but stops when Guilliman stands, placing his hands on his desk.

“However-” the primarch says, returning his steely gaze to his wayward son. “I can always write more when new situations arise that require clarification.”

Cato tries to suppress the clawing fear in his stomach. “And… what would those rules be, exactly, sir…?” He rasps out.

Guilliman's mouth twitches down at the corners, trying to maintain some professionalism. “I suggest you do not contribute to the conversation until asked, Sicarius.” He says in a flat, cold tone. Cato swallows and gives a terse nod.

“As I was saying-” he says, flipping open the codex. “I can interpret the spirit of the law and record new needed rules if I must.”

He rounds the corner of his desk, coming to a stop right in front of Cato with his hands behind his back, forcing him to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Unfortunately-” he says with a frown. “I made an, ehem, pinky promise to the ambassador not to kill you, and to give this whole… situation a chance.” He gruffs, frown deepening.

Cato blinks a few times as he processes the demi-gods words. “A… A pinky promise, Father…?” He croaks out.

Guilliman sighs. “Yes. Of which the ambassador assures me the repercussions of breaking are dire.”

He turns his back to Cato, walking to stare out a window with a disgruntled frown. “So, I will not condemn you to a death oath, as much as I would like to. But I will be setting rules.”

Cato, still somewhat in shock, takes a second to respond. “Rules for what, sir…?”

Guilliman glances back at him. “For… for dating the Ambassador. Or whatever it is you two are doing.” He says with a huff.

Cato's mind reels. He wasn't going to be exiled? Or banned from seeing her? She'd actually convinced the primarch to give them a chance? An unconscious smile starts to spread across his face before he quickly schools it when Guilliman shoots him a warning look.

“Firstly, I will be keeping a close eye on her. If I find out you have coerced her at all, in anyway, or even suspect she may be being forced into saying or doing something, I will skip the oath of death and end you myself.” Guilliman says, leveling a look at Cato so cold it makes him shiver.

“I- I'd never, my Lord-” he starts, but Guilliman holds a hand up to stop him.

“Please, I'm trying to be thorough.” He says. “Apparently I have been too vague in the past, so I want to be especially, specifically clear.”

Cato nods once and Guilliman turns back to the window. “secondly, if she ever wills it, she can cut you off at any time. I'll make sure you never share an orbit with her if she so wills it. You have far too much power over her for me to leave her to your mercy.” He continues.

“Lastly… just…” Guilliman sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Just keep it under wraps, please. I don't want this to become a thing marines think they can do. I'm making an exception as a favor to the Ambassador. Don't let others know about… any of this.” He says in a tired, defeated voice.

Cato nods slowly. What did the ambassador do to his gene father? To not only get off punishment free but, with pretty reasonable restrictions? He almost chuckles, his little ambassador had the Lord Reagent wrapped around her finger and probably didn't even realize it.

Guilliman groans and flops back in his seat, looking a few years older than at the start of their conversation. “And for the love of terra, if I ever have to even think about what you are getting up to together, let alone see or hear it-”

Cato's face warms again, “oh- of course, sir, never-” he says, coughing awkwardly.

Guilliman stops him with a grimace, “Don't even say it. Please, keep anything like that so far out of my range I can keep assuming you're a functioning, desireless astartes.” He groans.

Cato blushes more, but nods. “Y-yes, my lord.” He confirms, shifting foot to foot.

Guilliman sighs and looks away a moment, then grimaces and looks back. “I don't have to give you, you know… the talk?” He mumbles.

Cato flinches, “oh, emperor, sir please don't-”

Guilliman nods, rubbing his face with both hands, “Good, good, okay-” he mumbles, “Don't- I mean, she's got a career, it would make her job so difficult if she-”

Cato puts his hands up, pleading for his gene father to stop speaking, “Sir- I know- please stop” he begs.

To be fair he hadn't actually stopped to worry about that. He kind of assumed he was infertile. A cold shiver runs down his spine as he remembers he very much was not concerning himself with those things in the cave, or by the pools.

Guilliman sighs, head falling to his propped up hands and rubbing his eyes. “Okay, good. Now please just- go. Send Titus in on your way out.” He grumbles.

Cato raises a brow. “Titus?”

“Yes, your vigilante battle brother who god in a mud covered fist fight- don't think you're getting out of that either, by the way. Or the ship thing.” He says, shaking an admonishing finger. “I just need to cool off before I can properly think of punishments, but you're still suspended until I do.”

Cato sighs, but nods. “Yes, sir. Understood. I'll send Titus in.”

He gives an aquillian salute, then takes his leave, leaving a very distressed primarch at his desk. Outside the office, he allows himself to smile. Sure, he was in trouble, but that felt like nothing when he'd be able to see the ambassador without punishment.

Titus is smirking and leaning against a wall, but his expression falters when he sees Cato come out smiling.

“No fucking way you got away with it-” he starts, scowling and walking toward him.

Cato grins. “Lord Guilliman would like to see you.” He says teasingly.

Titus’ face drains of color. “You can't be serious-” he starts, but Cato walks away chuckling.

“Have fun, Demetrian.” He calls back.

Titus lets out a frustrated groan before Cato hears the office door close behind him.

Now, Cato thought, Where's my little Ambassador hiding?

[rimaiahwrites]

Our secret part 2

Dom!Erik x subblack!reader, dom × sub, smut!, swear words, age difference, big brothers best friend, fluffy kinda, dd/Ig themes but it's never addressed as dd/lg

It was y/n 19th birthday and all her friends and family were over to celebrate her day!

She was Beyond excited, everything was falling perfectly into plan.

Her birthday theme were lemons, there was lemons literally everywhere. She had a Lemon cake, yellow tablecloths and of course for drinks there was lemonade, and to top it all off she had on a cute white princess cut dress with yellow lemons over over it! She had retired the two puffs and settled for one big afro with a cute  yellow Ruben tied around her head, She had light makeup and her lips were glossed and shiny.

She and her best friends dance and Sang along to the lyrics coming from the speaker loudly. Her mother laughed and quickly grabbed the camera- "smile guys!" She told the girls. Y/n put on a big smile and posed.

After dancing and singing their lungs out she were winded and tired. She huffed out air. It was extremely hot out today "I'll be back guys." She told her friends and walked back into her kitchen. Her bare feet slapping against the cold floors.

She could hear her dad and his friends from in the living room watching the game, the smell of beers and the sound of her dads laugher brought a since of comfort.

She grabbed a glass of lemonade and chucked it down... As she did so her mind began to wonder off to her brother...where was he? He was here earlier but he disappeared out of nowhere. A couple of his friends were supposed to come too maybe they had all went to the neighborhood park to play basketball like usual she thought.

Speaking of his friends she was a little bummed that Erik wasn't in town. He had went off to college two years ago and she haven't seen or heard from him since last summer when he had spent the summer with her family.. she thought about him a lot, maybe a bit to much.

"Y/n!" Her brother called from the kitchen door, shirt off and dripping with sweat. Speak of the devil. She crunched her face and plugged your nose shut. "Gross."

"Shut up, who's outside." He asked. She slightly rolled her eyes. "My friends a few of mom friends and mom, don't go out there until you take a shower you reek." She said and fake gagged yourself.

"Alright alright, Get off me I'm going but their someone outside on the porch that wants to see you." He said as he set the ball down and jogged up stairs to freshen up. She were froze for a second. Is it who she thinks it it? Her heart started thumping hard as she shakily set her glass down and pushed herself to walk to the front door. She opened the door and was face to face with the big 6'0 boy- or man now that she had fallen in love with over two summers of sneaky kisses and touches.

Her cheeks grow hot as she walk through the door and shut it.

He towered over her even more now then before. He still smelled good, and for the most part still looked the same...except he grow facial hair. She was shocked.

"Hi Erik!" She squealed as she jumped to hug him. He caught her and squeeze her back as he chuckled.

"Wassup lil mama, I feel like I haven't seen you in so long! I missed you." He said as he set her back on her feet and kissed her on her cheek, making her stomach flutter. "I missed you too! You left us to go back to that bougie college." She said sarcastically as she rolled her eyes jokily. He chuckled. "I know I know I should've came to visit earlier but I was busy you know how it is-" Erik explain before he was cut off be the girl sitting on the porch swing that y/n had completely missed and didn't notice at all. Y/n frown and turned her big brown eyes back to Erik, he bit his lip nervously.

"Oh yeah my bad, Vanessa this is y/n, y/n this is my girlfriend Vanessa." Erik said smiling at the both of them. Her heart slowly sank as her smile softened to almost a frown before she put on a fake cheerful smile.

His girlfriend?

"Hi..." she shyly said to Vanessa before looking back at Erik with sad eyes.

Vanessa glanced at Erik as well but more confused then anything. Erik chuckled nervously as he rubbed the back of his neck.

"Um well it's nice to meet you y/n and happy birthday! Time moves fast I still remember my 19th birthday like it was yesterday!" Vanessa laughed, making Erik laugh as well.

Obviously It was only three years ago more then likely...

"Thanks...Um I'm about to go in...I'll see you guys later." She said as she back away.

"Actually I'm staying the week with your bother!" Her face dropped once again. Not only today but the whole week? Great fucking great.

"Oh well is Vanessa staying here too?" She said playing with the end of her dress. She had to ask cause if so she would try to stay at one of her friends house or maybe even at her grandmas.

"No, her family live here too she's going to stay at her aunts place." She hummed in response before Turning around and going back into the house.

"She's...weird." Vanessa said scrunching her face. "Chill, she's just not used to new people plus nobody told her you were coming to her birthday party." Erik said as bit annoyed with Vanessas comment. She rolled her eyes and sat back down as they wait for her bother to come back down.

As she walked back into the kitchen her eyes were glossy and red. She didn't want to cry she really didn't but the tears were forming and her throat was starting to feel tight.

Her birthday was going good why did he have to ruin it.

-

After she opened her gifts, ate her cake and cleaned up it was time to go to bed.

Her friends had went home and she tried her best to pretend like Erik and Vanessa wasn't there but Erik just kept on talking to her so it was bad to be mad at him but it hurt so bad to watch him and his girlfriend be so playful with each other and all lovely. She sat on his lap the whole time and it was eating her up inside. She was jealous and weren't very sure if she should be but she couldn't help it.

Erik was her first love.

Y/n parents and brother had all went to bed hours ago, it was now 1:25 in the morning and her stomach ached from being empty.

Y/n got up and put on her slippers,  pulled her night gown down over her butt and stepped out of the room, closing her door softly.

She snuck down stairs and made her way to the kitchen. pouring herself some of the lemonade that her mom had made earlier.

"Why you up so late little one?" You heard from the door frame making you jumped spilling your juice down your soft pink gown. Y/n frowned looking down at her gown. "Don't worry about it, you ain't my daddy." She hissed pouring the rest of the lemonade in the sink. Erik's eyebrows raised a slight smirk on his face. "I see you got a mouth on you now huh?" Her face didn't move from the frown. She definitely didn't find anything amusing about this right now.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she made her way towards him to leave the kitchen...but he stayed in place.

"Move."

"I'm just trying to talk to you princess why you being so mean to me? I haven't see you in so long." She cross her arms across her chest. Now was not the time. "Erik move I don't want to talk."

"is it because of Vanessa? You jealous?" He chuckled. He thought this was funny clearly. She was hurt because of him and here he is laughing at her, right in her face.

She tore her eyes from his looking at the other side of the kitchen as the tears came filling her eyes, her bottom lip trembling. "Th-that's funny to you? Erik you hurt my feelings and you think it's funny? What the fuck is wrong with you? You played with my feelings and made it seem like you l-...loved me Erik," she said choking on her words now looking at him.

hot tears streaming down her face now. Erik's face dropped when he saw her tears. "Y/n, princess.." he sighed looking at her through his eyelashes, she hated that she thought he looked so cute right now and the way that the little pet name he gave her a couple years back still made her tummy feel warm and tingly...It all started with a silly game to this...

"baby you know we can't be together, I'm away in my second year of college and you haven't even graduated high school yet, you my best friends little sister I can't date you-"

"But you can fuck me right? Is that all I am to you? Just a fuck doll-"

"No no princess-"

"Stop calling me that!" You whispered yelled at him pocking him in the chest.

"You were just using me because I was naïve! Erik you made it seem like you actually liked me...like you loved me! You told me nothing would change when you went to college but then showed up to my birthday party with a girlfriend I had no idea about!" Her tears still streaming down her face. Erik really had nothing to say, she left him speechless, but what could he even say?

"I guess it is partly my fault also for being so stupid to even think you would like me like that huh?" Erik so badly wanted to tell her how he felt but it would only cause more damage and leave her thinking y'all could be more then what they were, in the end she would only get her hopes up again and end up with her feelings hurt.

He so badly wanted to grab her and Comfort you.

"Good night Erik." She pushed past him and headed back up stairs.

Y/n grabbed her teddy bear off her bed and crawled into her Secret room, shutting the door behind her. She turned on her fairy lights and it lit up the small room just enough. She snuggled into her blankets, and cried. She cried her little heart out.

Who would have known her brothers best friend would be the reason for her broken heart.

Why did he have do this to her on her birthday at that...

The day was soured all because he didn't even consider her feelings nor seem like he cared in the slightest.

He had that girl smiling all in her face like he wasn't fingering fucking her all last summer, sharing sweet kisses and cuddles, like he was sharing deep parts of his past to her. Her heart ached so badly that she had to grab it tightly as she cried into her teddy, this wasn't fair.. this wasn't fair at all she shouldn't be crying right now but she felt so betrayed by someone that showed her how to love, how to make love, how to feel loved..

She sank deeper into her comforter and let out soft gut wrenching sobs.

Her first heart break was her big brothers best friend, how naive of her.

-

this not the end yall im gonna write a part three ❤️

for some reason I thought I finished this and posted it already.  also I'm way more active on tumblr so if you wanna follow I'll love that, I'm going to be writing about a few of my favorite anime characters too so if you fucking with that follow @rimaiahwrites !!

P.s I still have a deep love for writing yall and wanna finish these projects but life been LIFE'N THESE PAST COUPLE YEARS IM SORRY 😭❤️

[cevansbrat0007]

The Lonely Hearts Club: Part Two

Summary: Full Story! Breaking up with Andrew Barber is hard to do. You of all people should know, considering you just tried. Now what? Read Part One.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Angst, Discussions of Break-ups, Fun with Exes, Jealousy, Andy Being a Menace, Confident Reader, Eventual Smut, Cursing, Expect Additional Future Warnings, Minors DNI

A/N: Dedicated to @atkissoflife, @that-one-anxious-mango, and @piscesmermaidprincess. This multi-part fic features a combination of requests from the likes of @writer84, @lexivass, @moejdaw, and several others. It is also, part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

___

February 15th - 12:25am - Los Angeles, CA

Wow. Just...wow.

You stare down at your phone as you wait for the bartender to bring you your check. While you had initially been prepared for Andy to be upset over your note, as well as your pretty abrupt departure, you certainly hadn't expected this.

If anything, he seemed almost...unbothered. By all of it. Granted, it was sometimes hard to gauge a person's tone via text. But you'd also been in a relationship with the man for the better part of six freaking months! At this point, one could argue that you were practically fluent in Andrew Barber and all of his fucking moods.

The guy was up to something, without a doubt. Which meant that you were now officially on high alert. Because your man - your ex - had never been the type to play fair.

Especially where you were concerned. You should've known that it was gonna take a hell of a lot more than a handwritten letter and a box of artisanal muffins to knock some sense into his stubborn ass.

"Argh! You are such a fucking ogre, Andrew!" You groan, burying your face in your hands. "Why can't you ever make things easy?"

The next time you look up it's to see the bartender returning with your credit card. She goes to hand it over, only for you to interrupt her mid-sentence.

What was her name again? You could've sworn it started with a "D".

"Sorry, I know I said I was ready to close out. But since men are stupid, I think I'm gonna need another margarita. Quite possibly two."

Delta gives you a sympathetic nod before pocketing your card once more. "You got it, sweetie. Still want sugar instead of salt?"

"Yes, please." You mumble, reminding yourself that it was okay to feel annoyed. Because you were. This was supposed to be your time, damn it. You deserved to take some space for yourself!

Even if it meant sitting alone at a hotel bar, missing the one person you loved more than anything, the day after motherfucking Valentine's Day. Cheers, bitches.

___

Two Weeks Later – Somewhere in Downtown Boston

Andrew Barber stares blankly at his computer screen, mindlessly tapping his index finger against his temple as a fresh wave of anger courses through his veins. 

He’d been so good the last two weeks. So patient and understanding. He’d given you your space, just like you’d asked. Never intruding with the exception of the text he shot off that night.

Even when he’d come across your latest Instagram post from a few days ago showing off your apparent date with another man. Some pretentious looking fucker who went by Russell Cromwell. You two had looked real cozy while sharing a plate full of Birria tacos. And then you’d posed outside of the restaurant with your arms wrapped around his waist. 

But the real kicker had been the last photo in the carousel. The one where you’d kissed him on the cheek – when you’d done the “knee thing” that actresses used to do in those old black and white movies you loved to watch so much.

Oh yeah. The two of you would be having a discussion about that one real soon. His wayward Baby Girl could count on that shit. 

Honestly, you had no idea how hard falling back had been for him. It had been a real struggle. Because at his core, Andrew Barber was a man of action. He was well-known for his cunning and mental prowess. This was a man who had graduated at the top of his class, who had then gone on to become the youngest District Attorney in the city of Boston’s history. 

And in times of crisis, he was someone you could count on to remain calm and collected while you worked towards a solution. Nothing could shake him, save for the trial and media circus that had briefly surrounded his late son. 

After that particular tragedy, Andy had resigned himself to being alone. Forever. He often tried to convince himself that he preferred it that way. Andrew Barber didn’t do love. Not after what happened with his ex-wife, Laurie. He was better off living a life of no commitment. 

Even if it meant a lot of lonely nights filled with a seemingly endless revolving door of meaningless one-night stands. 

And then he’d met you. 

Yes, you.

The woman who had somehow, against all odds, brought magic back into his life. Your laugh, your smile, your very presence – it colored his whole goddamn world. He told you that all of the time, and yet it was almost as if you didn’t believe him.

At first, he was convinced that you were too good to be true. Although he’d been quickly dispelled of that notion when you’d had the balls to walk out on him during your very first date. It’s quite possible that he’d fallen for you right then – because you were the type of woman who knew her worth.

By then, Andy had become convinced that you were a gift from the universe. The way he saw it, after everything he’d been through, he was owed you. You were the woman of his dreams – his very salvation – all wrapped up in a curvy little package. And when you ran that night, it called to the primal part of him that felt compelled to give chase. 

Just like now.

But what you had yet to understand was that, once a man like Andrew Barber had deemed you his forever, there was no going back. There was no letting you go. No means of escape.

At most, he’d been granted you a temporary reprieve. You both needed time to assess the situation, survey the damage, and then calculate your next move. 

And sweetness, you’d already played your hand when you’d left that little note skipped town under the pretense of taking a fucking business trip.

Fine. Now it was on him. And while you still held most of the cards, that certainly didn’t mean that Andrew Barber was walking around without an ace or two in his back pocket. And you had better believe that he was more than ready to play his own. 

But first…he needed some fucking coffee. And lucky for him, he knew just where he could find the perfect cup – shot of chocolate, dash of cinnamon, hold the whip. 

___

Forty Minutes Later – Monarch Media Group (20 Minutes Outside Downtown Boston)

You lean back in your chair and rub your tired eyes. For the life of you, you simply couldn’t seem to focus today. Or any other day for the matter.

Even though it had been almost a week since you’d returned from your trip to L.A., you still felt just as conflicted about things with Andrew Barber as you did before you’d left. And not only that, but you also found yourself feeling on edge about the entire situation.

Because after your brief text exchange the morning of February 15th, he’d left you alone. The most impatient man you’d ever encountered this side of Boston had actually found it within himself to respect your wishes. 

No calls. No texts. No emails. Not even so much as a fucking smoke signal.

And while part of you was pleased with that particular development, there was no denying the fact that you missed your Big Man. 

You could be woman enough to admit it. You missed the hell out the handsome, grumpy-faced district attorney who, up until recently, had been a major mainstay in your life. But after some serious soul searching and a generous amount of tequila, you’d come to the conclusion that it was important for you to get your mind right before moving forward with anything.

You owed it to yourself to figure out who you were outside of your relationship with Andy – needed it even. Because that man was a force to be reckoned with. He could be so dominant sometimes, his personality so completely all-consuming that it was easy to lose yourself in him. 

To allow yourself to become so entirely eclipsed by his brilliant shadow. Which is something that could absolutely happen the moment you stopped paying attention to your own wants, and needs, and desires.

And if that ever were to happen, part of you wondered whether or not you would be able to find your way back. Honestly, you had no idea.

Because after all of this, if you chose to be with him…it would mean that you were all-in. There was no other option with him.

That beautifully stubborn man didn’t have a lower setting.   

However, the last thing you’d ever expected was for Mr. Andrew “My Way or the Highway” Barber to go quietly into that good night. Well, suppose you shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Because if anything he could very well be planning–

Your inner musings are interrupted by Anya, your favorite receptionist at Monarch Media Group. Granted, she was also the only receptionist at the company you’d worked for over the last several years, but that was neither here nor there.

Anya gives you a knowing look before taking a seat on the edge of your desk. “Hi, friend.” She lightly pokes your shoulder. “How ya doin?”

“I’m okay.” You blow out a breath and then decide to exit out of your Outlook. “What’s up?”

“Oh…nothing much.” You watch as your friend and coworker helps herself to a piece of chocolate sitting in a nearby dish. 

“Okay.”

“I just stopped by to tell you that your coffee has arrived.” She dutifully unwraps it before popping it in her mouth.

“What?”

You hadn’t ordered any coffee. You didn’t usually even drink the stuff this late in the day. Unless…

“Yep. And just so happens, it was hand-delivered by the handsomest door-dasher I ever did see.” Anya pokes your shoulder again. “I would’ve accepted it on your behalf, but the guy insists on giving it to you himself. Probably angling for a tip if you ask me.” She throws you a conspiratorial wink for good measure.

Speak of the devil. Hello, Mr. Andrew “Check Out My Shit Timing” Barber.

“Ugh.” You bury your head in your hands to muffle your cry of frustration. “Can you please just tell him I’m not here?”

“I’m afraid I already let that cat out of the bag. But by the look on your face and the way you’re rocking back and forth like a human pinball, I take it I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No!” 

“Did you and Andy like…break up…or something?” Anya pauses as she reaches for another piece of candy, her hand hovering in mid-air.

No, Anya. I always feel like jumping out the nearest window. I’m fucking squirrley like that.

“Yes. No. I don’t know.” You wail. “It’s just…it’s just really fucking complicated, okay?” 

“Gotcha. So…about the coffee…” 

“I’m going. I’m going.” You stand up in a huff, wishing you knew where you put the ponytail holder that had been on your wrist just this morning. “But if he pisses me off, I’m dumping that shit on his shoes. Hot or not. I do not care.”

“Okay, but if it comes to that can you please try to do it off company property? I’m all for you handling your business, but I’m also thinking about all the paperwork I’m gonna have to do if you accidentally injure one of the city’s hottest attorneys.”

“Fuck you.” You grumble as you stalk towards the front of the office to confront the annoying asshole who also happened to be the love of your life. 

“What can I say? I’m a selfish bitch.” She chirps, blowing you a kiss.

“Your words not mine. And stay the hell out of my chocolate, you mooch!” You call out as you turn the corner, fully intending to give the Boston D.A. a piece of your mind before you politely, and very firmly, shoved him out the door. 

Because if that man thought that he could just waltz right into your place of business and act like he owned everything and everyone, then he was sorely mistaken. You were going to prove to him, and whoever the hell’s job it was to oversee this whole godforsaken cosmos, that you knew how to stand your ground.  

The sight of him standing right there in the lobby is easily enough to temporarily rob you of all reasonable thought. His back is to you, giving you the brief opportunity to give him a thorough once-over. His tailored white dress shirt is rolled up at the sleeves, exposing his brawny forearms. But what really draws your attention are his slate gray slacks, which only serves to highlight his perfectly sculpted backside. 

He looked good. Nobody deserved to look that damned good, least of all your ex-boyfriend. 

Wait. Is that – is that what he was now? Is…is that how all of this worked? Fuck! 

You note the lack of tension in his broad shoulders. All things considered, he seemed pretty relaxed. But the real question was…how long could it be expected to last?

Andy picks that moment to turn around, his bright blue eyes locking with your own as an eager grin slowly spreads its way across his handsome features. You take a steadying breath and choose to ignore it. 

“Andrew.” You exhale, trying your best to appear unaffected by his presence. It was a lie, of course. But if you managed to keep this unexpected interaction short and sweet, you just might be able to pull it off. “Wh–what are you doing here?”

“Hi.” He cocks his head to the side as he drinks you in, almost as if he’s amused by your disgruntled demeanor.

“Hello.” You cross your arms over your chest, wishing that you had chosen to wear a different sweater today. Andy loved you in this color, especially because of how it paired with your particular skin tone. 

“Happy Wednesday, baby.” 

God, he really needed to lose that stupid smile. Otherwise, how on earth were you supposed to maintain your composure? 

“Sure.”

“Brought you something.” Andy holds out one of the cups of coffee he’s carrying. “Figured you might be able to use a little pick-me-up.” 

“Thanks, but I’m good.” You tell him with a shake of your head. 

“What? Since when?” He rears back before offering up a playful pout. “We always get coffee together on Wednesdays. It’s our thing…our little afternoon delight.” This time you’re treated to a wink.

“Shh!” You hiss, bridging the distance between your bodies to slap a hand across his mouth. “Don’t say that!” 

The last thing you needed was someone to overhear that and think you two used to sneak away sometimes in the afternoon to…to well…you know. Some of the people you worked with possessed very vivid imaginations.

And besides, that whole afternoon delight business had only happened once or twice. Okay, quite possibly four and a half times – and then one more after that. 

Amusement sparkles in his gaze as he stares you down. And then you feel the faint flick of his tongue brush across your palm. When you don’t react he does it again, this time following it up with an exaggerated groan. 

You immediately jerk your hand away as if you’ve just been burned. Knowing that things were only bound to get worse, you snatch one of the coffees before grabbing his arm and dragging him outside and into the unseasonably warm weather. 

Thank goodness for small favors.

The smell of spring was definitely in the air these days, but all you can focus on is the sound of Andy’s laughter trailing behind you. Frankly, it’s enough to set your teeth on edge. Even still, he allows you to lead him down the street. At some point there’s a slight shift that results in your relinquishing his arm so that he can lace his fingers through yours.   

But you'll allow it if it means that he’ll behave for as long as it takes to make it to your destination. Which just so happens to be an empty bench located at the edge of a nearby park.

To his credit, the attractive buttface at your side doesn’t say anything during your impromptu power walk, but he also doesn’t need to. Because after two long weeks without you, the man was probably venturing into serious touch-starved territory. 

You knew it. And so did he. So part of you didn’t see the harm in giving him this one, small thing.  

Relief fills you when you finally reach the bench. Of course Andy sits first before pulling you down with him – but thankfully not onto his lap. Although you’re positive that the thought was there.

Eventually he lets go of your hand. Unsure of what else to do, you finally take a sip of your coffee. The rich, slightly bitter flavor of chocolate and mocha bursts onto your tongue, followed immediately by a quick hint of cinnamon.

Mm. A perfect cup.

“I’ve missed you, baby girl.” Andy’s large, lightly calloused hand cups your face – the roughened pad of his thumb caressing the curve of your cheek. “It hasn’t been a very fun couple of weeks.”

“I know.” You whisper as you lean into his touch and your eyes flutter closed. Perhaps you were just as starved for affection as he was. “I’m sorry.”

“Did you miss me?” His tone is gruff, but there’s no mistaking the emotion behind his words. Or the pain in his eyes for that matter. 

“I did, Andy.” So much.

“But you still left. Tried to break up with me before hopping on a plane and running off all the way to L.A. to share some chips and queso with good ol�� Rusty.” Your eyes fly open as Andy’s hand drops away. “Or did I read that wrong?” 

How the fuck had he known where you where? You hadn’t included anything about your intended destination in your letter…

“I saw it on your Instagram, in case you were wondering. Was actually able to use that stupid account you set up for me after all.” His teeth sink into his bottom lip as he narrows his gaze, trying to read your expression. “Couldn’t really get much else, although I enjoyed those pics of you at the beach.”

“It was a work trip.” You remind him, suddenly feeling defensive. “And Russell is an old friend, nothing more.”

“Hm.” Andy quirks an annoyed brow. “Are we talking about the kind of friend who also  accompanies you to the beach so you can show off your brand new bikini? Not that I’m complaining any about that gorgeous, sunkissed glow you’ve got going on, princess.” 

His big body is certainly tense, but there’s no ignoring the feral gleam in his eyes. Almost as if he’s dying to undress you and spend the next several hours checking you for tan lines. 

And he would, too. It’s not like it would be the first time. 

“I went alone. Russell stayed behind for that one.” You roll your eyes at the sight of his nostrils flaring. “Jesus Christ, dude! I know you may not believe that I’m a big girl, but I am. And if I wanna go hang out at the beach by myself, then that’s exactly what I’m gonna do!”

Which was exactly what the fuck you’d done. And it had been positively marvelous. 

“Fine.” He grunts, raising his palm towards the heavens. “God forgive me for having the sense to worry about my girl, especially since the last time I checked, she still couldn’t swim for shit.”

“Whatever, Andrew. This girl does whatever the hell she wants now, so you had better get used to it.” Your mouth is set in a thin, firm line while you silently dare him to disagree.

“I’m not quite sure how that’s different from any other day with you, but alright.” Andy tries to calm himself by playing with a stray curl that’s fallen free from your bun. “You’re still mine, sweetness. Even when you insist on being a brat. Or did you somehow forget that part?”

You swat at his hand instead of responding, hating that steady feeling of warmth that was currently pooling in your belly. 

“Did you?”

You make a show of ignoring him in favor of enjoying what was left of your coffee.

“You know, they say that sometimes silence speaks louder than words, baby girl.” You find yourself resisting the urge to clench your thighs together at the sound of the dark chuckle that rumbles through his chest. “It’s alright, though. Guess I’ll just have to remind you again once we get past this little wall you’re trying to put up between us.”

He gifts you with a flash of his pearly white teeth. Andrew Barber was the type of man who would only let you get away with so much before he put his foot down. And you would do well to remember that. 

“Pretty sure you meant to say “actions”, jackass.” Apparently he finds your acerbic wit funny as well.

“Eh, I’ve heard it both ways.” Andy shrugs before going back to toying with your curls. “But I think you should know that I’m not very happy with you, baby. And I’m trying to be patient here, but it’s kinda difficult when I can’t even get you to talk to me.”

“I was going to call you…” That wasn’t a lie. You had just been trying to drum up the mental fortitude you knew it would take to pick up the phone and actually dial his number. Sometimes, dealing with Andrew Barber could require some serious patience. 

“Were you now?” He doesn’t believe you. You can hear it in his voice.

“I was.”

“Okay, then have dinner with me tonight.” He releases your curl, watching the way it bounces as it springs free.

“Andy.” You let out an exhausted sigh.

“Meet me at my place. I’ll swing by Imperial Wok and pick up a few of your favorites so we can eat. And then we can talk in a quiet, private setting without any interruptions. How does that sound, princess?”

“Wonderful.” The word slips out before you can catch it. “But I–I can’t.”

Andrew Barber’s excited smile dies on his lips the moment that phrase reaches his ears and registers in his brain. As much as you hated to admit it, being alone with this man wasn’t a very good idea right now – especially behind closed doors.

Because while you’d never seen the man in court, you’d definitely heard plenty of stories about his ruthlessness. And you knew firsthand just how persistent he could be when he was determined to get his way. 

When Andy wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. Not only was he relentless, but he also wasn’t above using every tool at his disposal – including sex – if it meant having you back in his life. It wouldn’t matter all that much to him how it came about.

The same way he wouldn’t care if whether or not your desired reconciliation only happened because he’d lured you into his bed before fucking you back into submission. 

“The fu–why the hell not?” He growls, his hand grips the arm of the wooden bench so hard his knuckles go white.

“Because I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” The pronounced tick in his jaw makes it clear that he’s beyond frustrated by your refusal. 

Unfortunately, that was too damned bad! By the time this was all said and done, your handsome ogre was going to have mastered the art of having some goddamned patience. At least you hoped that would be the case…

“Both.” You offer your Big Man a small apologetic smile as you rise from your seat. “Let’s plan for sometime next week. Maybe we can shoot for Monday. I’ll, uh, send you a text or something and we can find a place to meet. But I really need to get back to work now.”

Andy stares at you for what feels like a full minute as his impressive brain works overtime to figure out his next move. And then he stands up before taking your empty cup and discarding them both in a nearby trash bin.

“Alright.” He mutters with a nod in your direction. “I guess I’ll just have to wait for your message then. Now, let’s get you back to your office.” A lump forms in your throat when he wraps a muscled arm around your shoulders as you two begin walking back the way you came. 

Fuck, you really hated this shit. But if this relationship was ever going to have a chance of working, you had to continue standing your ground. Even though it hurt like hell.

“I, um...I know you said that we probably won’t be able to sit down and talk until next week. And I suppose I can understand where you’re coming from with that, but while I have you now…” He lightly coughs into his elbow.

You glance up at your hotshot attorney, trying to figure out where he was going with this so that you could potentially cut him off at the pass.

“I at least wanted to say “thank you” in person for still agreeing to help Lydia with the charity gala this Saturday. I’m sure that it wasn’t an easy decision for you, especially given how things have been between us lately. But I really do appreciate it. And, frankly, I’m sure the kids at St. Augustine’s do too.” 

You feel the blood drain from your face as the reminder of this weekend’s event all-but smacks in the face. “Shit!” You hiss, pulling away from Andy as you reach your building. “It’s this Saturday? Are you sure?”

 “I am.” He confirms, his eyes filled with surprise. “I just spoke with Lydia yesterday when I–”

“Fuck!” You exclaim as your hands fly to your hips, uncaring that you just interrupted whatever it was he was about to say. 

In all of the chaos, you’d completely forgotten that you had agreed to help the wife of one of Andy’s colleagues with her annual charity ball. Starting by arriving at the hotel early Saturday morning to aid in the event setup, before heading up to your room to get ready for the evening's festivities.

A room that had been booked during a time when you and Andy were on much better terms.     

“She did mention that she sent all of the volunteers an email a couple days ago with a list of instructions. Maybe it got buried in your inbox, baby.” He rests his hands on your biceps, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “But she is definitely expecting you and I’m afraid it’s probably too late for you to back out at this point.”

Deep down you knew he was right. And quite honestly, you wouldn’t even dream of doing something like this close to the actual date of the gala. But there was still the issue of having to share a hotel room with your ex.

Closing your eyes, you force yourself to take a deep breath. “I–I wouldn’t do that. I’m not that big of an asshole. I just don’t think it’s a good idea for us to share a room…” You trail off, hoping that he would at least be somewhat understanding of your current plight.

“Ahh.” You can see the moment when realization finally dawns. “Right. Almost forgot about that.”

No, he actually hadn’t. But since Andy didn’t feel as though there was any real need for you to know that, he was going to keep that particular tidbit to himself. Even he was capable of showing some restraint every now and again.   

“Like I said…” You find yourself anxiously bouncing on your toes. “I don’t think –”

“I get it, sweetheart.” 

Wait. He did? Just like that?

“You do?”

“I do.” His words are accompanied by a lopsided grin. 

He didn’t. But then again, you didn’t need to know that either.

Andy’s hands leave your arms so that he can tenderly cup the sides of your face instead. “You just leave it all to me, baby girl. I’ll call the hotel and change the reservations.”

“You will?” You place your smaller hands overtop of his own. “You…you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Andy leans down to press a sweet kiss to your forehead. “And I promise to be on my best behavior Saturday night.” He gives you another kiss, which you allow. “If you want, I’ll even send over the updated confirmation info.” 

“Thank you.” You murmur, wishing that you could give-in just a little more and offer up your lips for a kiss. A real one this time. 

But you couldn’t afford to do that. Not even when Mr. Andrew “Give Me A Gold Star For Being Helpful” Barber was acting sweet. That would only throw everything off balance all over again. 

Andy’s heated gaze drops to your mouth before he slowly pulls away. “Don’t work too hard, okay?” His husky voice sends one last tiny flutter through your belly. 

“Same goes for you.” You tell him as you begin to head into the building.

“Goodbye, baby girl.” 

“Goodbye, Andrew. See you Saturday.” 

He waits until you’re safely inside and out of sight before turning on his heel and proceeding in the direction of his car. Oh, you’d be seeing him on Saturday alright. And he would be on his best behavior – depending on just how much patience he could muster. 

You two would be sorting this shit out then, whether you liked it or not. When it was over, you’d both spend the rest of the weekend making up for lost time. And Andrew was going to do everything in his power to ensure you enjoyed every fucking second of it. Just like he planned to enjoy getting reacquainted with that delicate sweetness between those luscious thighs. But first…

He needed to go make a call.

END

*Part Three Coming Soon...*

___

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all the things that could go wrong

Janis ‘Imi’ike x physically disabled fem!reader

Warnings: pet/nicknames, internalised homophobia, arguing, mentions/descriptions of violence, mentions of reader’s disability, mentions of alcohol consumption…(rollercoaster of emotions incoming)

In which lol I don’t know how to summarise this. except: “If this is the happiest I've ever been, why do I feel so afraid of it?”

“Y/N!” Janis screamed, chasing you.

You only ran further, as fast as your feet could carry you. “Y/N, stop!”

You knew your efforts were futile when you felt her grip on your wrist. Of course she’d catch up to you. What were you thinking? Showing up at her door?

“I’m sorry, Janis.” You gave up running, “I don’t know what came over to me but here I am, at your door.”

She looked at you, very confused- it was as though you had posed her with the toughest question ever. “What…?”

You knew why- she asked you to come over to have a night in, but instead that plan just unraveled. She kissed you, and things got a little handsy, but you simply couldn't get past the mental hurdle of being with a girl. “If this is the happiest I’ve ever been, why do I feel so afraid of it?”

Age 7, you thought Tori Vega was really pretty. But also thought that Beck Oliver was cute. You didn't tell anyone and let that be your little secret.

Age 9, you let that slip. You told a friend and she called you a weirdo for liking both a guy and a girl. That same year, the friend Mabel mentioned it at your birthday party and everyone heard it. They laughed it off, saying that your friend was just joking. But it wasn't a joke, and your Mom told you it was wrong and you took it to heart.

Age 10, you found yourself having crazy swarms of butterflies in your stomach whenever this girl in your class talked to you. Her name was Dawn, and she was your only friend for the next few years because ever since your party a year ago, Mabel made sure to tell everyone your little secret. And no one wanted to be your friend anymore. You were lucky to have Dawn. You didn't tell her about the butterflies, though.

Age 14, High school started. You moved to Illinois, and said goodbye to Dawn. She was sad to see you leave, but promised to talk to you everyday. At North Shore High, you met Janis- and her best friend Damian, who almost immediately took you in to join them. You became a part of their trio. While the school feared her, calling her a threat to students' safety, you did not. She was nice to you and you felt safe and protected. Life seemed pretty good. Until summer rolled around, and you started spending more time with Janis. The butterflies in your stomach made their presence known, and very aggressively. You were falling for your best friend, fast and hard.

Age 15, Sophomore year began and Damian notices the closeness. However, you didn't know that and neither did Janis. He also didn't say a thing, not wanting to assume, nor interfere. Life went on as usual, except your crush on Janis kept growing with each day. Over thanksgiving break, you had your wisdom teeth removed. All four of them were impacted, so they had you go under and get them removed. Janis came by to spend time with you every single day for two weeks- much to your mother’s dismay. But Janis knew she wouldn’t say a thing, because your mother was also afraid of Janis. She could see her protectiveness over you. (She’s also heard of the bunsen burner incident)

Age 16, Janis asks you out to the Winter Ball. You agreed, it was a lot of fun- she made you laugh until you cried. Lingering touches, holding your hand, her hand on your shoulder, her hands squeezing your cheek as she said, ‘you’re adorable’. You laughed it off, looking away as you blushed. She teases you for it. But you know she meant it not in a negative way. Christmas, your parents were out of town and Janis invites you and Damian over for Christmas dinner. Damian hung out for awhile then went home, you spent the night. You two sat in her bed watching Home Alone, which you completely forgot about when you feel her hand on your thigh, traveling upwards on your side to your face. Janis leans in dangerously close and the two of you nearly kiss. The night ended awkwardly after you told her you couldn’t do it, with Janis feeling disappointed and you feeling conflicted.

Age 17, when the clock struck midnight, signaling the start of a new year, Janis was standing before you, holding your hands in her own. As fireworks went off in the distance, she captures your lips into her own. With the help of a drink or two in each of you. ‘Happy birthday’, she says, ‘and happy new year, y/n.’ And her lips were quickly back on yours, what felt like fireworks went off in your chest, making its way down your spine. This was your new little secret- this kiss you shared. It was like a dream come true, little you would always dream of experiencing one day but then learnt it was impossible because of what people around you all said. But Janis, she made the world seem fine. Then, Regina George’s Burn Book joined the mix along with a certain redhead by the name of Cady Heron. That new year concluded tumultuously - every one got mean. The book called Damian ‘almost too gay to function’, Janis a ‘pyro lez’, and you ‘the queer one to fear’. Along with a picture of you and Janis kissing at new years, two photos of you kissing a fellow cast-mate in two separate school plays. When everything blew over, Cady flirted with Janis which left a sour taste in your mouth. You were jealous, but you didn’t say a thing. You couldn’t. Janis did- rejecting her, telling her she had her eyes on someone else. You were hoping she meant you.

Age 18, Janis couldn’t care less about whatever shit went down in school. It was you and Damian with her, against the world. It was your birthday and she took you to the park for a quiet picnic, handing you a small bouquet of beautiful roses. She confessed. You do the same, both a rambling mess. Pushing aside the feelings of disgust you had for yourself for feeling this way, for being in love with a girl. Until you couldn’t. On this warm spring day, the heat made you feel like it was burning you to a crisp, coupled with the strong emotions you were feeling…

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She asked, in the spur of the moment her words flew out harshly, piercing your ears and your heart. You couldn’t say anything now, with that painful lump in your throat, your anxiety causing the skin all over your body to feel as though it was being pricked, or burned. You squirmed uncomfortably both at the anxiety-induced skin burning sensation, and for Janis to free you from her grip. You knew she didn’t mean it. She’d never lay a hand on you, she’s never done that ever. You wanted to snap her out of it, to tell her it was you that she was talking to. But you couldn’t, all you could manage were pathetic little cries that quickly turned into sobs before your knees buckled and you fell like a child in Janis’ front yard. The thud snaps her out of it, everything you said. Everything you’ve ever said, or not. Everything you’ve ever done, or haven’t. They all rushed through her mind, giving her a slideshow that allowed her to understand just what it was that was causing this…meltdown.

“You don’t have to explain anything to me…I get it. I get it…that internalised homophobia you’re dealing with, because of what people around you taught you growing up.” She sits down with you on the prickly grass. She cups your cheeks, wiping the tears away. “You’ll be okay with time, be gentle with yourself. It’s okay to do what you want, feel what you feel, love who you love. You are your own person. You are not your Mother, not your old friend Mabel, you are not those little fuckers at school talking about people behind their backs.” She spoke, a small sigh at the end.

You could only sniffle, as you looked her in the eye. Her gaze was soft, and loving. A complete three-sixty from the fierce, intimidating gaze she shows the world. The one she shows to the jocks who made fun of you, for your height, for your weight, for having a limp, for having scars from surgeries that improved your mobility…your life. Strangers.

Janis continued to speak, “I love you, and you know that. But I want you to remember that, and I won’t stop reminding you until one day. That all goes away, what’s in your head- that voice…it will become so small one day it will sound like nothing. And what matters is…we have each other. To conquer whatever comes our way, wherever life takes us. Because, baby…you are the strongest person I’ve ever known in my entire life. And that will never change.”

Upon hearing her words, your natural reaction was to cry harder. Her whole frame shook as she took you into her arms. Janis’ head whipped around, looking at a concerned neighbour. “She’s okay, Mrs. Alvarez. We’re just having a moment.” The woman says an ‘okay’ and was on her way.

“You’re okay, hmm?” Her hands held the side of your head against her chest, her head resting on your own. You hear her sniffle. “You’re okay. We’re okay. Everything’s okay, baby.”

She stayed with you in this position until you’d fully calmed down, swatting away any insects or even butterflies, that you were afraid of. “Okay, you ready to get up, lovey?” She asks you softly, breaking away from the embrace slowly just in case you didn’t want to get up. Because…let’s face it- she’d sit here with you all day if you wanted to. That was Janis for you. Your Janis. She’d give you the world if you wanted it…

“Yeah.” You managed to tell her shakily, “Yeah.” Finally pulling away from her chest, you were met with her face, tear streaks on her cheeks and watery eyes. She’d cried. And she didn’t hide it. Something she’s never done before. Janis contemplated between holding out her hands so she could pull you up, and letting you stand up on your own. She chose the latter, then wrapped her arms around you again, smooching you on the cheek. “Okay?” She watched you cautiously. “Mhm.” You sniffed, the phlegm in your throat causing a coughing fit after you spoke that nearly made you retch. She rubs your back, “Let’s go get you a drink.”

You were back in her house. She leads to you kitchen and sat you down at the table, opening the fridge door so you could see the drink choices. You shook your head. “How about some tea, then? Would you like that?” She suggested, shutting the door. Janis then walked over to her pantry and pulled out a bunch of different little boxes that contained a variety of different teas. It looked a little comical, her holding them all in her arms then putting them on the table for you. You chuckled, then smiled. Then she smiled, relieved to see that after the literal buckets of tears you’d wept outside. You looked at your options and soon picked one out, picking up the green Lipton box and handed it to her. Janis took it from you and placed it on the kitchen counter, proceeding to fill the electric kettle with some water to boil. Then, she got out your favourite mug. While waiting, she returned the other boxes of tea bags to the pantry before sitting with you once again.

“Janis, I- I don’t know what to say except…thank you.” You told her quietly, licking your dry lips but unwillingly tasting the salty tears along with the action. You swallow thickly, avoiding her gaze. Janis’ hand found its way to yours and gave it a squeeze- she didn’t need to say a thing for you to know what it meant. “I love you.” You told her later when you were up in her room. Her face lit up with the brightest smile you’ve ever seen from her. “I love you, so much.” You said again.

That one letter word before the two meant the world to Janis. It was a step toward the right direction for you, and she was so, so happy to hear it.

“I love you, too, sweet girl.”

[lacontroller1991]

Solitude (Obi-Wan Kenobi x F!Reader)

Main Master List || Star Wars Master List

Summary: While on Tatooine, Obi-Wan stumbles upon someone in need of help, someone he thought was long dead.

Warnings:none really

Word Count: 1.3k

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After two weeks of living on Tatooine, Obi-Wan fully understood why Anakin hates sand. No matter where you stand on the planet, there is bound to be grains of sand practically embedded into your skin. On the first couple of days of his residency, he tried to sweep the sand out of his rocky cave, but sand always came back in, so he gave up, chuckling to himself as he recounts tales Anakin has told him about how the sand literally gets everywhere. The more and more he thinks about what Anakin has told him over the years, the more he realizes that Anakin has always been right. Anakin was right about the Council being manipulated. Anakin was right about the sand. Anakin was right about Obi-Wan’s feelings towards you and in his own hubris, Obi-Wan didn’t believe him.

Well, it doesn’t matter now. Not when everybody he’s known and cared for has died. Sighing in regret, Obi-Wan gets out of his bed and looks around his barren cave. How did things fall apart so quickly?

----------

You pinch the bridge of your nose as you look around you, only spotting sand for miles on end. After successfully contacting at least one surviving Jedi, Yoda didn’t waste any time in telling you to fly to Tatooine to complete your training. How are you supposed to complete your training? The wise GrandMaster didn’t tell you, but he sure did give you coordinates to Tatooine.

Fiddling with a bracelet on your wrist, you smile fondly at the piece of jewelry before a frown falls on your face. You remember the last time you’ve seen Obi-Wan like it was yesterday, except it was about a year ago and you don’t know if he’s alive or if he was one of the fallen, massacred by the clones. Stashing your lightsaber in the hem of your pants, you quickly make your way towards the town, hopefully finding something, anything, that will guide you to where Yoda wants you to go.

—-------

“Thank you very much.” Obi-Wan bows to the stable keeper before walking over and taking a hold of the reins of his eopie, Akkani, guiding her out of the stable and into the warm Tatooine evening. It wasn’t his first choice to be a meat butcher, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Despite the twin suns setting, Anchorhead seems busier than it was in the morning causing Obi-Wan to look around in suspense, hoping that no one will recognize him; however his search is stopped when he catches a whiff of something… familiar.

Deciding to follow in the direction of the scent, Obi-Wan guides Akkani until he hears muffled warbling with a female voice, a voice that’s too familiar. “It can’t be.” He ties Akkani to a post and rounds the corner and low and behold, you’re being backed into a corner, surrounded by a multitude of large, threatening figures. Obi-Wan bites his lip in contemplation. It’s obvious that it’s you and Obi-Wan can’t help but feel his heart beat again by being near you, but, he has a duty to the boy, to Anakin, to protect the boy from anything and anyone that poses a threat and if he comes out of hiding to protect you, he risks unnecessary exposure that could ruin everything.

The thought that he would put Luke over you makes him pause in contemplation. Is he seriously going to still follow the same set of beliefs that killed his brother? Is he going to put you underneath a one year old?

—-------

“I don’t have anything you want.” You try to cower into yourself, making yourself as small as possible so it wouldn’t be easy for them to hit but to no avail as the aliens keep pressing in, angrily warbling in their language, a language you can’t understand. Now realistically, you could easily take them on. You could easily put them in their place, but that would require the use of the force and a lightsaber and if anyone saw, you’d be hanged.

“There you are,” a voice interrupts and your eyes open sharply, trying to locate the voice. The voice that is so unmistakable. The voice that you have missed. The voice that you have dreamed about. The voice that gains the attention of your assailants who turn around, leaving a small spot for you to crawl out of toward the someone who has taken your breath away on more than one occasion. “Sorry for any commotion my wife has caused, she’s a troublemaker. How can I fix this?” Obi-Wan’s hand grips onto your bicep, gently pulling your shocked body up and behind him, keeping a firm hand on your wrist as the aliens wave their hand dismissively, deeming Obi-Wan a threat enough to not really bother with it as they walk away, leaving you and Obi-Wan alone in the alley.

“Obi?” You face him, looking into the same pair of eyes that you’re in love with before Obi-Wan is pressing a hand against your mouth, his eyes hard and the gears in his head turning.

“Shh, you can’t say that name out loud. They’re looking for me. It’s Ben. Only Ben. Understand?” You nod your head in agreement as he removes his hand from your mouth only for you to jolt forward, jumping into his arms and letting out a cry in relief.

“I thought you were dead.”

“I know, I thought you were dead too.” Obi-Wan clutches onto you tighter, scared that if he were to let go then you would once again disappear. He can’t deny how his heart is practically pounding in his chest. All those feelings he had tried to suppress are now coming to the surface and he holds onto you just a little bit tighter, burying his face in your hair, inhaling your scent. “How did you find me? Why are you here?”

“Our old teacher sent me. He told me that I would finish my training here. I didn’t know why, but I guess now I do. I have something to tell you,” you comment, pulling away from him and taking his face into your hands. “I love you. I know you probably don’t return my feelings as you’ve never given me any indication whenever you were around, but I don’t want to hide from my feelings anymore. Ben, I love you so much and I would rather be damned than not tell you.”

“Oh my dear.” Obi-Wan doesn’t know what to say. He has longed to hear those words for years but his duty had always tied him down, and now he has a duty to protect the boy and he doesn’t know what complications you could cause. “Kriff the complications,” Obi-Wan comments to himself, confusing you for a split second before he’s crashing his lips to yours, the Force around you exploding as you kiss back, holding him as close as possible as your lips mold together perfectly, as if they were made for each other.

After a moment, Obi-Wan is the first to pull away, a hand reaching up and cupping your cheek, causing you to lean into it. “I love you too, darling. I’m sorry I made you believe otherwise, but believe me, I love you so much. If you stay on Tatooine, if you stay with me, I can’t guarantee an easy life. I have a mission to complete, you must understand.”

You shake your head as Obi-Wan prepares himself for rejection. He doesn’t even want to live on Tatooine, so he’s definitely not expecting you to either. “I don’t care. I want to be with you, come what may.”

“I’m so happy to hear you say that. Come, let’s get out of here.” Obi-Wan pulls up his hood as you mimic him before you grab ahold of his hand, causing him to smile. For the first time since he went into isolation, Obi-Wan feels a glimmer of hope and happiness, and it’s 100% thanks to you.

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Vinsmoke spooky combo day 1: zombie/hater

I should thank you @pharaohzeth, this prompt gave me motivation to finally work something for my kingdom hearts x one piece au <3 i mean, in the games Nobodies are kinda described as dead so i think it's close enough to count...

By rules of the games Nobodies should look like normal humans but I like when people make them look like corpses or give them some inhuman traits, so that's what we're going to do here folks

[I.D.: Two-panel drawing of Niji and Sanji from One Piece in my kingdom hearts au. Niji is on the upper panel. His skin is greyish and there are places where it came off, showing muscle and bones. His eyes are almost entirly black, his hair blue with yellow undertones. He's wearing the black zipped coat like the one used by antagonists in Kingdom Hearts games. He's smirking, head tilted to the right, holding his goggles in the left hand. Next to him is his yonger version in similar pose. The kid's eyes are covered by black smear. His hair is yellow with blue undertones. Second panel shows Sanji's shocked face. Panels are separated by words "Oh, come on... Don't you recognize me?" said by Niji. /End I.D.]

Eyes trailing over the places where rotting skin revealed the muscle and bone underneath, Sanji wished he didn't. Wished there was no familiarity in the way the creature tilted its head, that the mocking smirk didn't bring back memories he buried a long time ago.

He remembered how those monsters grabbed Niji, the way life had left his eyes, the way Sanji would have shared his fate if Reiju didn't push him through the window, into the sea. The way she didn't have time to jump after him.

It couldn't be him. Sanji refused it.

More about the au under the cut

So, quick KH lore for those unfamiliar: The universe is made from different worlds and it's difficult to move between them but not impossible. Also, it's possible to separate person's heart and body. When it happens, the heart turns into Heartless - monster of darkness that is drawn towards hearts and attacks people to get them, creating even more Heartless in the process. Meanwhile, the body turns into a Nobody - barely humanoid husk of a person. In some circumstances, Nobodies can retain their memories and looks, but without the heart they still lack emotions (at least at first). One of the main antagonists in the game is organization 13, made of Nobodies whose goal is to recover their hearts. Their motivations range from "I'm so desperate to get the heart I'll do literally anything" to "I don't really care but since I'm not human anymore I don't belong anywhere else". Those are the people I'm basing Vinsmokes role on.

[I.D.: Close-ups of adult and kid Niji's faces. /End I.D.]

Now to the au.

Judge was researching the power of hearts and darkness by conducting experiments on captured Heartless.

One day something goes wrong and the Heartless escape, stealing the hearts of everyone in the castle. Except for Sanji, who falls into the ocean and is carried away by the weaves, washing up on the beach in adjacent realm and meeting Zeff.

Later Sanji joins the Strawhat Pirates, the crew wandering between the realms in search of the legendary treasure - Kingdom Hearts.

Sanji enjoyes the adventures and nowdays barely thinks about what happened to his siblings (and his sperm donor too I guess). At least until something looking a lot like Niji runs into him on the recon mission...

Probably because of the experiments Judge was doing on them ever before the Heartless attack, Ichiji, Niji, Yonji and Reiju kept their memories and looks. They assumed Sanji was just too weak-willed and turned into the mindless Nobody after loosing his heart. Judge continues his experiments, now with a side of figuring out what powers lacking a heart will give you. Which includes sending Heartless into other worlds and observing the carnage...

Reiju didn't tell anyone she managed to get Sanji out of the castle, partly because she's not sure he didn't just drown and partly because she doesn't know what Judge would do if he discovered Sanji's still alive. Her worries are validated when Niji comes back with the news and Judge orders them to bring Sanji back to the 'family'.

Because she was older when she lost her heart, Reiju is better at pretending to be human than her brothers. She remembers having emotions and usually gives more appropiate responses. Ichiji, Niji and Yonji kind of suck in that regard since they barely remember what the appropiate response even is. At first Niji didn't even realize Sanji was scared of him when they met again.

[oh-saints]

erling again please!! can you do one where he attends your graduation?

OH OH THIS IS FRESH

absent

erling says he can't make it to your graduation, though...

erling haaland x you

word count: 0.7k

note: taking a little break from dad!rúben tirade bcs this prompt is too fun to be passed up. but as usual, i happen to write at dawn so this is not proof-read yet.

“i don’t think i can make it, babe,”

was what erling said the last time you and him shared a video call. he cited he had an away game and it was too far away for him to catch a flight to norway in time for your graduation. he truly sounded sad and disappointed over the phone, and you get it because it’s his job. you signed up for this the moment you kissed him back 2 years ago under the mistletoe in his house.

so you try to let his absence rain your parade. because that day is for you, after 3 years full of tears and blood. no matter how much you want to share it with erling because he was the one who persuaded you to stay in collage when things went roughly south.

you still involve erling in every step of the preparations, though. you ask for his advice regarding your valedictorian speech, what to fix and which part to emphasis. you send him pictures of your dress nominees. you do a poll for your make up look. and he reply at each and every one of your texts, no matter how busy he is, except the times when he had to play for a match.

on the day, you head straight to where you and your peer group are going to take a graduation picture together. erling had suggested it actually because he thought you should at least have a fun photo session with the ones who are truly there for you, physically and mentally, especially when you miss him a lot due to the long distance relationship.

you sport dozens of ridiculous shots that’s inspired by your 4-year journey together, on top of having cliché poses. you can’t thank erling enough for this idea because it throws you to a mini flashback where everything looks okay the first time you and your peer group sets your feet here. at the end of the session, you all have to hold back some tears because you don’t want to ruin your make up.

a deliveryman should be thanked for that because the moment he delivers you a bouquet of flowers from erling is the moment that makes you and your peer group break down to fits of laughter.

your peer group, friends, and colleagues alike all claps when you take the stage for your valedictorian speech and shouts when you close the speech with a bang. your family cheers for you when you take your diploma, and for a minute, you forget that erling is the only thing missing from this spectacular day.

only when your phone dings once, followed by thousand more notifications, do you realise you’re missing him for nothing.

erling posts a video on his story of you getting your diploma, with the caption of you go my girl <3 and the internet had a fucking meltdown. you, too, to be honest because you’re content with the hushed status of your relationship with erling. despite him not showing your face in the video, many has recognised you, probably mouth to mouth from people who actually go to your university hall.

but for once, you don’t care at all because he’s here. erling’s here, and it completes your day by a long mile. doesn’t matter now how he gets here or if he lies on purpose about him not being able to come down for your graduation.

as soon as they dismiss the biggest event of your life by far, you don’t think twice to call erling to ask where he is so you can tackle him down in a hug. and you did exactly that, when you find him standing tall like a giant he is underneath a tree nearby, looking dashing in a suit coloured to matchingly contrast your dress. fuck other people who try to take a picture of you two, or of erling in general because who the hell doesn’t know erling haaland?

but the good side of having a giant boyfriend is that he’s always there and ready to catch you.

“you’re here!”

“i wouldn’t miss it for the world, schnuppa.”

[mlove44lh]

Don’t hurt yourself

Chapter 3 - Anger

Masterlist

Previously chapter

Warnings: cheating, angst, mention of infertility, mention of blood and hospital (really short), alcohol use.

Lewis is a real asshole in this chapter, I think that could go as a warning too.

Words: 2.750

“If it's what you truly want ... I can wear her skin over mine. Her hair over mine. Her hands as gloves. Her teeth as confetti. Her scalp, a cap. Her sternum, my bedazzled cane. We can pose for a photograph, all three of us. Immortalized ... you and your perfect girl. I don't know when love became elusive. I think of lovers as trees ... growing to and from one another. Searching for the same light.

Why can't you see me? Everyone else can.”

I step slowly into the apartment, my head spinning with the anger I feel and all the alcohol from earlier. The place seems different from what I had left before, the white walls filled with memories in the form of our photos no longer bring me the comfort and happiness they used to.

I can hear Lewis' footsteps in the hallway outside. I take a deep breath, preparing myself for the imminent confrontation I can no longer postpone.

Lewis slams the door behind him with enough force for the sound to reverberate throughout the apartment.

"Stop with this silent treatment bullshit. You ignored me all night. Isn't that enough?!” His voice is louder than usual.

I place my bag on the wooden dining table and turn towards Lewis, who is standing in the middle of the room with his jaw clenched and his eyes fixed on me.

"I told you this conversation would happen at home.” I feel the anger burning in my throat. I seem calm, but I grit my teeth over so many emotions stuck inside me.

"Here we are." He gestures to the entire living room. "Now, can you tell me what the hell is going on? First, you've been acting weird all week. Then at dinner, you didn't say anything except to make senseless comments. You drank two bottles of champagne alone, even though you know you can't drink. Do you want to throw away all the treatment we're doing?”

Suddenly, I can't contain my emotions any longer. I explode with words that should never leave my mouth. My laughter is a humorless, painful groan. How can he bring this up now? How dare he act like nothing is happening? After cheating on me, he still has the audacity to want to build something big together?

"Fuck this treatment, Lewis! I have no interest in conceiving a child with you anymore!" I scream at him for the first time in my life, and say the worst things I could.

You know that feeling when you regret saying something even before the last word leaves your mouth? That just happened. The pain in Lewis' face becomes clear before my eyes, but it's not greater than mine. I could never imagine saying those words to him. To the love of my life.

Lewis stays quiet, motionless, as if he's glued to the floor. Like him, I try to process the words I just uttered. I don't know where they come from, or if I really feel that way. But I don't move to take them back or try to retract what I said. I think this is the moment I'll remember as the breaking point. There's no turning back after saying something like that.

But life is made of choices, and I choose to move forward with my anger.

I walk to my bag, and for a brief moment, the sound of my heels hitting the floor is the only thing that can be heard in the room.

I take out the bracelet that I've kept with me all this time, and walk up to him with the object clenched tightly in my fist.

I walk close enough to hear his breath. His eyes shine with sadness. I can't recognize us at this moment. Everything seems so wrong, so confusing. We know each other so well, but now I feel like I'm looking at a stranger.

I feel a lump in my throat, and for a moment, I'm afraid that I'll break down.

"I stopped taking the hormones five days ago, Lewis. You would know that if you paid any attention to me.” He keeps his eyes locked on mine, and I can identify an appeal in them. "I stopped when I found this in your car.”

I hold out the bracelet with my index finger near his face. I watch realization taking over his expression while his gaze moves between my face and the object in my hands. He seems to want to say something, but I don't want to hear a word from him until I finish saying everything I need to.

"The problem was there for a long time, wasn't it? It was my love for us that blinded me and didn't let me see what was right in front of me. Until this shit showed up" I throw the bracelet at his chest. Despite the almost zero distance between us, I know that Lewis barely feels the metal contact his skin. He remains motionless. The bracelet falls between us, resting on the cold floor as we continue to stare at each other. "I tried to deceive myself. Even today, I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and let you make up for everything you destroyed in me."

I feel my eyes welling up, but there's more anger than sadness in the tears.

"Y/n..." Lewis' voice comes out in a tone that I don't remember ever hearing before.

I cut him off before he can say another word.

“But then I arrive there, at the dinner you invited me to.” I extend my index finger until it touches his chest, and just this minimum contact makes me tremble. “And I watch you looking at her in the same way you used to look at me. And the worst of all is that you were acting as if nothing was happening. You wore this lie so well that if she hadn't done what she did to show me the truth, I would have left that restaurant even more in love with you. While you were lying to the woman you swore loyalty to on an altar."

His fingers wrap carefully around my wrists. I try to pull away the moment I feel the contact, but Lewis doesn't let go and keeps holding me in my place.

"Y/n. Please listen to me.”

I don't want to listen to him, but I know I need his explanation.

"Go ahead. But tell me the truth if you still want the slightest consideration from me.”

It takes him a few seconds to start talking.

"It's true. But it didn't mean anything, not for a moment. It was the biggest mistake of my life, Y/n. And I know that doesn't change anything about what I did. But I'm so sorry." He puts word upon word as if his desperation could change something. "I'm sorry. I was selfish and in a bad place, and she came along and seemed so simple. I didn't think about you or us. But I swear there's nothing left. I realized what was at stake and ended everything.”

It's not a “this never happens” or “you misunderstand” the only thing I get is an apology.

Even though it was already clear, hearing it from him manages to hurt even more. His dark and guilty eyes look at me with such supplication that even staring back at him becomes a difficult task.

"When did this start?”

Lewis lowers his gaze as soon as I finish my question, perhaps out of shame or fear of my reaction to the answer.

"September.”

I break free from his grip as soon as it sinks in.

"You were fucking her while I was going through that hell?!”

I watch tears streaming down his face, but I feel no sympathy. What I want now is for him to suffer even more for the consequences of what he caused himself.

“It was a hard time for me too.”

"No." It's unbelievable that he's playing that card now. "You're not going to do this to me. Not after everything I went through.”

"But it's the truth. We were both living in hell." He says barely a second after I finish speaking.

"And your way of dealing with that was by cheating on me?!” My voice comes out in a scream for the second time tonight.

The adrenaline inside me is so intense that I can't stand still. I take a few steps back from his figure.

"Y/n, you've changed since the diagnosis." The forced laugh that comes out of me is the only thing I can express. "You think I was the one who distanced myself when, in fact, you had already been distant for a long time. You looked at me as if I were to blame for..." He trails off, regret etched on his face the moment he falls silent.

It's like a knife has been plunged into my chest. Even before he finishes, I already knew where this was going.

"Finish it. Tell me, Lewis. Tell me that I looked at you as if you were to blame for my infertility."

"That's not what I meant."

"Yes, it is. It's written all over your face."

"No. I meant because of the situation we were in."

I shake my head as I stare at Lewis incredulously.

"How callous and self-centered does a person have to be to make this kind of deduction?" My voice is low, and the words spill out without much forethought. "I bled for hours, only to receive the most devastating news of my life shortly after. I left that hospital and rebuilt myself piece by piece to try to move on. And during that process, you believed yourself to be too important to not receive the attention you craved and went after that whore to stroke your ego."

Lewis tries to approach me, but I move away as soon as I realize his intention.

"Get away from me!"

"Y/n, please. I would never do that. That's not what I meant. I just want you to understand.”

"There's nothing to understand! What you did has no explanation.”

I turn my back to his figure as I feel tears streaming down my face. I wipe my face with my hands, trying not to let him see me cry. The tears are not just about what he did, it's about everything we went through together. It's about me thinking I had someone on my side who understood me and would never do this to me. But now life feels more raw than ever, and I feel alone. The pain is intense and the feeling is that it will never go away. I feel vulnerable, exposed, and very angry.

I'm not sure I can stand, so I walk over to the couch and sit on the edge of the white cushion. I feel the comfort of the upholstery in contrast to the tension in my body. As I try to calm down, Lewis comes to me and kneels on the floor, putting himself at the same height as me.

Lewis takes some time before speaking again.

"Listen. I love you so much. And I know what I did may be unforgivable. But Y/n, we have been through so much together. I really want to fix this. I don't want to give up on us.”

I don't look at him.

"But you've already done it.”

"No. I made a mistake. The biggest one, but I will never give up on us. I'll do whatever it takes, please.”

My eyes flicker towards him, but I can't bear to hold his gaze for more than a fleeting moment. It's as if looking at him for any longer would be a betrayal to the pain and anger that I feel.

"If only you had been honest. But you lied. That's even worse. You acted like everything was fine when you had just admitted that everything was wrong even before you got involved with her." Lewis wraps his fingers around my ankle as if hoping to change my thoughts with just that touch. "You promised me that whenever something went wrong, we would talk about it. And when it did happen, you just ran away from me. How do you expect me to forgive you for that?"

"Please," he begs me for something that not even he knows.

"I'm going to pack my things."

"No. Y/n, don't do that."

I stand up but can't take more than one step. Lewis comes to me and rests his hands on my shoulders, keeping me in place. I feel exhausted. I think I have no more strength to keep going with this. I've reached my limit tonight, and so has he.

"Stay. This house is yours. I'll sleep in the guest room, but please don't leave. We can talk tomorrow when we're both calmer. Let's give ourselves tonight to think.”

"I've spent the last month thinking. I have nothing else to think about. I don't want to talk to you anymore, Lewis. I don't want this anymore.”

"Y/n, please. It's three in the morning. You have nowhere to go now. Stay here. You don't have to talk to me, but I don't want you driving like this in a nervous state."

His concern seems like a joke, it might have moved me if we weren't in this ridiculous situation.

"If I stay, you're the one who leaves.”

“Y/n...”

“Get your stuff.”

“Where am I supposed to go?”

“I don´t know. I don´t care. Go to her place. Take the opportunity to let her know that you're single now.” I go to the cellar and take the first bottle of wine I find there. “Just be careful with Matteo, he might kill you if he finds out you're fucking his little bride.”

Lewis stares at me for a few seconds before heading towards the bedroom. He knows I can't handle another minute of conversation tonight. Now the only thing I want is distance from him.

I open the wine bottle and pour a glass with a surprising calmness. Perhaps my level of stress and shock is so high that I no longer know how to deal with it.

With the bottle in one hand and the glass in the other, I walk to my office and close the door behind me. I don't want to see him leave, trying to convince myself that it's because I don't want to look at him anymore, but in truth I'm afraid of not letting him pass through the door.

I take every sip of my drink as a desperate attempt to calm my emotions. I am sitting in the armchair in the middle of the dark room, and I can hear every step Lewis takes just a few meters away from me. Sometimes, I can even tell which room he is in.

But then, after a short while, I hear the final thud - the sound of our apartment door closing. And suddenly, silence fills the room, bringing with it an intense cold.

I want to allow myself to cry in this moment, but I can't. Exhaustion takes hold of my body and mind, but I know I won't be able to rest until I know what will happen with us.

Author's notes: CALM DOWN, DON'T FREAK OUT. I'll post chapter 4 soon. I promise it won't take as long as this one did.

Let me tell you, it was a struggle to write this one. I spent hours just to write a few words. It was definitely the hardest one yet.

I kinda feel bad for making Lewis such a asshole. He's like my baby, you know? But hey, we still have a few more chapters left, so who knows what could happen? (Not even I know, haha.)

Anyway, thanks for sticking around and i see you in the next one!