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moosesarecute · 3 months

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He’s my mate

This is my chaotic mess of a first fanfic. Hope you enjoy.

Not proofread and English is not my first language, so please don’t be too harsh 🫣

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When Rhysand send Feyre and his sister Y/N on a mission, the last thing he expected was for his dear little sister to be poisoned by something not even Madja had a cure for.

“She looks terrified” Feyre said looking worried.

“You still can’t get through her mental shields?” Madja asked.

Rhys only shook his head. He usually found it comforting that his sister had such a strong mental shield, he knew that no one, not even himself, could get through them unless she wanted them to.

However, now it only worsens his worst nightmare.

“I’m so sorry, Rhys” Feyre said. “I don’t know what happened”.

Before Rhys could answer, the doors to the room opened and Azriel and Cassian rushed in with Mor and Amren not far behind.

Azriel’s face got pale as he saw his mate, sitting on the floor, her violet eyes staring at nothing and breathing heavily. She looked so scared, it broke his heart.

“What happened?” He said. His shadows were already swirling around his mate, carefully stroking her hair.

“Poison” Rhys answered. “We don’t know what the cure is.”

The inner circle had never seen Azriel as worried. Sure, Y/N had been hurt before, way too many times if you asked Rhys, but they had previously always known how to help her.

Azriel moved slowly towards his mate and sat down beside her. His scared hands were shaking as he tried waving his hand in front of her face, but she was still staring far into nothing.

“Maybe if you hold her, Rhysand can get through her mental shields,” Madja suggested. “She would feel safer.”

Slowly, Azriel moved to sit with his mate in between his legs, his arm around her waist, his head resting on her shoulder and his wings covering their bodies.

Y/N breath instantly slowed, but she continued to shake.

“Try now,” Madja said, looking at Rhys.

Rhys took a deep breath, shifted his focus and tried to enter his sisters mind.

He spent some time seeking, but he eventually found a small gap in her shields.

He slipped in, through her wall of purple dust, and immediately found traces from the poison.

Rhys followed the trace and before he knew it, he got pulled into his sister’s worst memories.

***********

“You are not to see him again” your father said. “You are to be married to the heir of Spring, can’t have you messing around with an Illyrian bastard! You disappoint me, Y/N”

You were burning with anger. All your life you wanted nothing more than to get your father’s attention. For him to look at you with pride for all you had accomplished.

You were powerful. You had daemati powers stronger than your brother, you had multiple times beaten Cassian in hand battle and you flew faster than Azriel.

Azriel, the male who had your heart. Your biggest supporter, your wisest mentor, your best friend…your mate.

The male your father was forbidding you to see.

“You can’t mean that!” You cried out. You were fighting tears. You couldn’t lose Azriel, but you knew that if you cried, your father would never take you seriously.

“Oh, but I do.” Your father replied, taunting you. “You’re a female, not only a daughter, but a high lords daughter. If you thought you could choose your own fate, you’re more pathetic than I thought.”

You realized that your father had made up his mind. You only had one more idea that might help you convince your father.

“He’s my mate” you whispered.

You whispered, not because you were afraid, but because you had only said it aloud two times before in the 20 years you had known.

Your father looking at you, staring deep into your soul. “What did you say?”

“Azriel is my mate.” You said louder. You lifted your head and straightened your back. You were proud of your mate and you were going to show it.

Your father started breathing heavily and before you could react, he grabbed you by your shoulders, and pushed you hard into the bookshelf behind you. He held you tightly and you hissed in both fear and pain.

“You are NOT to be mated to a bastard lesser fae. You are going through with this marriage and if you even think the thought about being with the shadowsinger, I will not hesitate in having him killed.”

You father let go of you and you sank to the floor, crying.

“Pathetic” your father said, before he left the room.

**************

You were in the woods, fighting for your life.

The heir of Spring held you down into the ground, cutting your wings.

Your vision were blurry and your eyes heavy.

“Please, don’t harm her” your mother pleaded. “You can do anything you want with me, but please not my daughter.”

The torture had been going on for hours. They would cut, beat and whip your mother and then do the same to you.

You had stopped screaming. Your cries for help became fewer and far in between. It just hurt to much.

“Hold her still.” The heir of Spring told his youngest brother. “I want a souvenir.”

He started cutting your wings from your body. You threw up and then screamed before you threw up again. Your left wing were detached from your back.

“This is taking too long” his father said as his son were close to finishing cutting of your second wing.

The high lord reached for the sword and you have never felt more terror.

“No, please don’t” you pleaded, trying to crawl over to your mother.

The heir of Spring, your betrothed, held your head in place and forced open your eyes as the high lord beheaded your mother.

You emptied your stomach once more before your froze completely.

“We have to leave, finish her.”

The heir of spring grabbed what was left of your right wing and used his foot to keep you down as he ripped the wing from your body.

He then grabbed you and forced you over to your back.

“Let her bleed out.”

All of them winnowed away.

You laid on the ground, trying and failing to move over to your stomach. You were dying, you knew that.

As your eyes closed, you felt a tug in your chest and the last thing you did before you passed out was to tug back with all the force you had to give.

/////////////////////////

Rhys left his sister’s mind and immediately threw up. Feyre was at his side at once.

“What did you see?” Cassian asked.

Rhys only met Azriel’s eyes as he said “she’s reliving her worst memories.”

No one spoke for a while, but everyone could sense Azriel’s growing worry. He held his mate closer and whispered into her ear “you’re safe. You survived. You’re home. We’re mated.”

“I have only read about this in books.” Madja said. “I think the only way to stop the poison from spreading further is to make Y/N understand how happy she truly is. If not, she will die from terror.”

Madja walked over to Rhysand. “What did you see?”

“She wouldn’t want any of us to know that.” Azriel said.

“I know, it is invasive, but it might be the only way to save her.” Rhys said and after a while Azriel nodded in agreement. He would do anything to save his mate.

“I saw our father forbidding her to be with Azriel and…” Rhys stopped and took big breath. “And the attack where Spring…killed our mother.”

Everybody froze as they realized Rhys had just seen his own mother die. Feyre took his hand and squeezed it. A way of saying “I am here.”

Madja was the first to move. This time she walked over to Azriel. “You need to show Rhysand your happiest memories with Y/N so that he can enter her mind and show it to her.”

Even though Rhys was still filled with worry, he had an amusing smile on his face.

His sister and Azriel had been mated for over 450 years. They accepted the bond when she was 56 and he was 63 after two years of being together.

However, they usually kept every detail of their relationship secret. They didn’t even tell anyone that they were mates, they just disappeared for two weeks and showed up mated.

They always say they keep the details to themselves because of their occupations. Both being spies for the Night Court.

The inner circle knew that they wouldn’t share details, but they still always asked. Mor asked about their sex-life (Rhys always left the room when that was the topic), Cassian asked about when they would host family dinner at their house (Y/N would make one of their mother’s favorite recipes) and Rhys just wanted to make sure his sister was treated right.

“You don’t have to worry, Rhys,” you always answered. “Just because we don’t scream it from the House of Wind it doesn’t mean we aren’t happy.”

Azriel spent some time thinking about what memories he was going to show, but he eventually told Rhys he was ready.

“I am showing you,” he said. “You are not going to wander around in there.”

“Of course,” Rhys said and walked over to sit in front of his sister and Azriel.

Azriel’s mind shields were down. Rhys entered his mind and waited for the memories.

————————

I am exhausted, but happy. We won the blood rite. It had been the hardest week of my life so far, but we had won.

My brothers and I were walking towards our home in Windhaven. Before we could reach the entrance, the door flew open and out Y/N came running.

Y/N was Rhys’ 16 year old sister and she looked extremely happy.

“Thank the cauldron you are alright!” She spoke and basically jumped at Rhys.

He just laughed and hugged her.

“She is not happy to see us,” Cassian said to me.

“Of course I am!” She said and moved to hug Cassian. “It is just that Rhysie was the closest.”

“Stop calling me that,” Rhys said.

“Never”

She than moved over to me. And I felt time stop. Her arms embraced me and I hugged her back, but as she pulled back and looked me in my eyes, I felt it.

Snap

Y/N, my best friend’s younger sister, the daughter of the high lord of the Night Court, was my mate. My heart was filled with happiness.

Her eyes were as big as mine and I understood that it had snapped for her too.

“Ehm…” she said. “Dinner is ready inside.”

She then turned around and walked inside.

——————————

“I can’t believe he isn’t here,” Y/N cried into my chest. “It’s my 30th birthday and our father refuses me to see him! It’s not fair!”

I tightened my arms around her. It broke my heart to see her this upset.

Rhys and her had planed this entire day. They were going to fly around the mountains, have a picnic in the woods outside Velaris and then go to Rita’s with Cassian, Mor and I.

But the war was raging and Rhys nor Cassian were allowed to come home.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” I said, but I knew that it didn’t help much.

“I wish I had a normal father so that I could rebel and be awful towards him without it being treason,” she said.

“Well, it’s a good thing you don’t,” I said. “I don’t think his old heart could take it.”

She look at me with her big violet eyes and before I knew it we were both laughing. Probably because of the two empty wine bottles that stood beside us.

“You always know what to say to make me laugh,” she laughed. “That’s probably why we’re mates.”

I froze.

It was 14 years ago the bond snapped, but neither one of us had ever said it aloud…until now.

“Good night,” Y/N said quickly, before she jumped of the roof we sat on and flew away.

The smile that grew on my face lasted for multiple days.

————————

“You only have a couple of hours, so spend it well.”

I nodded and left Rhys’ and Y/N’s mother.

I quickly walked over to Y/N bedroom and knocked on the door.

“Come in,” she sang and I opened the door. “Azriel…you know you can’t be here! If the high lord finds out you-“

“He won’t find out, I asked your mother for help,” I said.

She gaped at me and then smiled her big, beautiful and sweet smile.

“We have to go now though, we only have a few hours.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” I say as we start flying up to the mountains.

The flight didn’t take much time and we were soon at the picnic I had set up earlier.

“Wow,” Y/N said. “It’s beautiful.”

I really wasn’t. It was rushed. I had plucked a few flowers, brought a blanket to sit on and her mother had made us some food.

“I wanted us to at least have a day to pretend,” I said quietly.

“Let’s make it the best day ever,” she whispered back. “No arranged marriage to separate us.”

I took her hand and we sat down to eat.

We talked about what we wanted our life to be like. Life in Velaris, in a small house, at least two children (“No Y/N can grow up without a Rhysie,” you had said), a big garden, many flowers.

“I don’t want to marry the heir of Spring,” she whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I want you.”

I took her hand. My shadows were playing with her hair and speaking to me “mate, upset, make mate happy”

“I want you too, princess,” I replied fighting back tears.

I looked deep into her eyes, took my other hand and tucked her hair behind her ears. “My beautiful mate. I am the luckiest male in all of Prythian even if I can’t have you in this lifetime.”

Now we were both crying.

She then let go of my hand and held up her pinky finger.

“All other lifetimes?” She asked me.

I immediately took her pinky in mine.

“All other lifetimes.”

Two small identical tattoos appeared round our pinky fingers.

I moved closer to her and she did the same. We both spend some time looking at each other, still crying, before we leaned into each other and our lips met.

It started soft and cute before it grew hungrier. We were both full on sobbing at the time I pulled away.

“Are you sure?” I asked, hoping she would say yes. I waited for her answer.

“I’ve never been more sure about anything in my entire life,” she answered and kissed me.

——————————

“I can sleep on the floor,” I said.

We were on a mission on the continent undercover as mates. Pretending to be mates weren’t hard since we were mates, but Rhys didn’t know that.

“Ha, you’re funny,” Y/N said. “Either we share the bed or we both sleep on the floor.”

We were trying to find out if the rumors we heard about a war starting on the continent were true. To our relief, it seemed like it only was a rumor and nothing more.

Since we were undercover as newly mated we had gotten a room with only one bed.

“We’ll take the bed then,” I decided. “Can’t have you hurting your back.”

Y/N froze and looked at me. “How did you know about my back pain?”

Shit

“I…ehmmm…”

She looked at me with wary eyes. “Have you been spying on me?”

“Of course not,” I said. “I just…feel it sometimes.”

She looked like she had seen a ghost. “I didn’t realize. I’m sorry, Azriel. I should have thought about that.”

She looked at me, but didn’t meet my eyes.

As mates, I sometimes felt the same emotions or feelings as she did. And I had realized that after the attack on her and her mother ten years ago, she had been dealing with back pain.

“It that why it always magically appears a bottle of pain relief outside my door on the bad days?” Y/N asked me, now looking directly into my eyes and soul.

“I might have had something to do with that, yes.”

She nodded as a reply.

That was the end of the conversation. We prepared for bed. After we both had gotten into the bed, her on the left side, me on the right with my wings hanging out in the side of the bed, she started crying.

“I’m sorry for shutting you out all these years,” she cried.

I didn’t know what to say or do. I just laid completely still and looked at her.

Slowly, my shadows moved towards her. One of them dried her tears while two others played with her hair. I tried to stop them and get them back to me, but they didn’t listen. “Mate, upset, have to make mate happy.” they said on repeat.

“I didn’t think you could even want me anymore,” she continued. “I would understand if you didn’t, of course. I’m not who I just to be, I’m not myself. But then Rhys forced me to start going on missions again last year and I realized how much I missed having my family around. I felt more alone than ever. And when I started going to family dinners and Rhys told me how happy you were, I realized I hadn’t thought about what you were feeling through all of this. I completely ignored you, left you and you probably felt and still feel so betrayed. I…I’m so sorry, Az.”

I was still frozen. How could she think that was how I felt? I never felt betrayed by her, thought she felt betrayed by me. I’m her mate for cauldrons sake! And I almost let her die. She lost her wings, she would never fly again. I was too late to save her wings.

“Say something, master. Make mate happy. You can make mate happy.” My shadows almost screamed in my ears.

“I…,” I started to speak but had to stop. I needed to get this right. “I never felt betrayed by you not being the same you as you were before the attack, Y/N. You needed time to heal. We could have helped you to get better, but we knew that if we forced ourselves into your life, you would shut us out and it would all become worse. You are way too stubborn for that.” We both chuckled. “You have grown. You’re not longer just a high lord’s daughter who had to do everything your father said, you’re Y/N. You’re Y/N, the female that always asks what’s for dessert even before we have started to eat dinner. You’re Y/N, who always do everything you can to annoy your brothers. You’re Y/N, you’re always brutally honest and we love you for it. I love you for it.

“If you hadn’t had time for yourself, you wouldn’t have time to figure out that you don’t like the color orange, or that you wanted to dye your hair purple streaks, or that you like training in the morning so that you can enjoy your book at night.

“As long as I’m allowed to be in your life now, I’m happy. Even if we’re just friends or family. I just need you to be yourself. It’s the Y/N you’re now that we love.”

Her mouth was wide open. Then it closed before she opened it again.

“I never think I’ve heard you say that much before.” She said with a small laugh.

“I don’t think I have ever said that much before.”

“I want you in my life,” she said. “I have loved pretending to be your mate. I…I don’t want to pretend that you’re mine, I want you to be mine.”

Before I even could react, my shadows were swirling around us, pushing us closer to one another until our lips were only millimeters apart.

“Can I kiss you?” she asked.

I kissed her as an answer. My heart had never felt so full of love.

——————————

It had been a long day with meetings in the court of nightmares. I had my usual place, standing against the wall and making sure no one was lurking around.

My mate had left her usual place, standing beside her brother, and was walking over to me.

“The high lord will soon be going home,” she told me, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking around the room, still very much playing the role as the scary night court princess.

I then felt her soft touch on my mental shields, asking for access. I let her in.

“I was planing on making an apple pie this weekend, at the cabin,” she told me. Her voice was shaky. She was nervous. “Or if you want something else I can make something else. Or if you don’t want nothing at all we can just-“

“Apple pie would be great,” I answer, my voice almost as shaky as hers.

“Good,” she said and left my mind.

She gave me I small smile before she walked back to her place beside her brother.

“I love my mate,” was all I was able to think about.

—————————

“And then he used his shadows to make me fall over!” Cassian explained. “Totally unfair.”

“It seems like you have had a rough day, Cass. Did you miss your midday nap?” Mor asked him.

She then looked at me and lifted her wine glass “cheers to that.”

I lifted my glass and held it up to my lips as I felt it.

It couldn’t be.

I wouldn’t believe it.

But then I felt it again. A tug.

I lowered my glass.

“Everything okey, brother?” Cassian looked concerned.

Another tug and then a soft touch to my mental shield had me gasping.

My heart was going crazy.

I lowered my mental shields.

“You could at least have cleaned the place,” my mate’s voice sang in my head.

I let the glass fall to the floor and before my brother could react I ran to the balcony and started flying towards my mate and I’s shared house.

I hadn’t been there in 50 years. Ever since my mate and Rhys had been under the mountain, I hadn’t been able to even look at our house. Our small cottage with just enough space for the two of us. And a spare room for Cassian, of course.

The flight only took 30 seconds, but it was the longest 30 seconds of my life. I tried not to get my hopes up. What if she wasn’t actually there?

I landed in your garden and ran towards an open front door.

I stopped, too scared to go inside. What if I only imagined it all.

My shadows went crazy around me, pulling both my hands and legs. “Mate, home, mate, home”.

Tears ran down my face as I walked through the door.

Standing in the middle of the room was my beautiful mate. She was way too thin, her hair was a mess and she started sobbing as she saw me.

Before I could reach her she fell to her knees. I fell to my knees in front of her and embraced her together with my shadows.

“You’re home,” I cried.

“I’m home,” she whispered into my chest.

——————————

“You’re staring,” Y/N said into my head.

We had just sat down to eat dinner. Our entire family was here and we had just met Feyre.

“I’m sorry that I like to look at my wife,” I answered. “You look beautiful.”

I took my her plate and filled it with food.

“It’s cute that you still feed me,” Y/N spoke. “I like it, husband.”

“Should we tell them?” I asked.

“Maybe not overwhelm Feyre. I think Mor and Cassian is going to freak out when they find out we didn’t invite them to our wedding.”

“But we didn’t invite anyone.”

The truth was that they on a whim had eloped, just over an hour ago.

“What are you talking about you two lovebirds?” Mor asked.

“Nothing,” both of us said.

Y/N quickly shifted the conversation by asking “Soooo, what’s for dessert.”

Everybody laughed.

////////////////////

Rhys left Azriel’s mind. Both males were crying.

“I had no clue you were that young.” Rhys said. “And that you fought so hard for it.”

Azriel just nodded and tightened his arms around his mate. Y/N was now shaking even worse than before. She looked extremely pale and exhausted. “Just get her back to me, I’ll tell our entire story from start to now, as long as you get her back to me.”

Rhys saw the desperate look on his brother’s face and hurried to enter his sister’s mind.

He was met with a wall of terror, not even one trace of his sister’s normal calm mind. He began working, pushing memory after memory towards the wall and slowly but surely watched it disappear.

Then he was forcefully pulled out of her mind.

“You’re okay, breathe, breathe, good girl,” Azriel spoke.

Y/N was now on her hands and knees, still panting and shaking, but she was moving. She had thrown up, but Rhys removed it with magic. Azriel held a hand on her back and held her hair.

He looked extremely relieved.

“Are you okey?” Rhys asked.

Y/N met his worried gaze and moved over to him.

“I’m sorry you had to see that, Rhysie.”

Rhys didn’t waste a second embracing his sister.

The rest of the inner circle slowly left the room, they understood that the siblings needed some time alone.

But, of course, all of Azriel’s shadows stayed to make sure their mate was alright.

———————

Azriel was waiting outside the room. He knew Y/N was alright and that she would come get him when she’s ready, but he just wanted to hold her and never let go.

“Well, well brother,” Cassian said with a smug smile.

“What?” He asked.

“You said you’d tell the entire story of your relationship. So I figured you could start now.”

The doors to the room opened and out walked Y/N and Rhys.

“Why not start explaining that your bond snapped when Y/N was just a teen and that you have been married for multiple years, hmm?” Rhys said and you punched him in the arm.

“WHAT?” Cassian and Mor yelled.

A quick look was shared between Azriel and Y/N before both of them took off running and before the others could react, they had winnowed away.

#azriel x reader #azriel x rhysand's sister #azriel #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #rhysand’s sister #acotar #azriel fanfic

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jungkookstatts · 8 months

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As Thunder Rolls

[Summary]: You know Taehyung is the one. You knew it since the first day you saw him, when thunder rolled through the sky. But your lives don't collide. They might be too different to choose both.

[Theme]: Rich Reader, Law Student Reader, Construction Worker TH, Poor TH, Rich Girl Poor Boy AU

[Rating]: 18+ for sexual themes, sexual content, unprotected sex, kissing, making out, marking, angst, familial separation, topics of class, and triggering opinions of some characters

[Word Count]: 8,296

[A/N]: First TH fic!! I hope it is enjoyable~ This might be my last fic for a little bit. Going to be focusing on school and working really hard until the summertime :)

People say that when you fall in love, your life develops new meaning. They say that your life changes as you fall, and you watch it spiral out of your control over a silly feeling you can’t help.

You can say that the people, whoever they may be, are correct. Love happened to you quite unexpectedly, and completely out of the box you put your goals for the future inside.

Taehyung happened during the city's worst monsoon season in over 50 years. His rain-stained jeans and dirty white construction t-shirt clung to his skin, showing you all of his tanned glory as the rain fell angrily. You stood on the top step of your sister’s corporate building, looking down at him three steps below you.

“You got a spare umbrella, by chance?” he asked you. Caramel-colored, wet hair covered his forehead. But you could still see the discomfort in his eyes due to the harsh rain.

Looking at your own umbrella in your grip, you shook your head, telling him that this was your only one.

“You know a place around here where I can find one?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the area,” you explained.

“Me neither,” he smiled as he looked down at his red Converse.

There was an uncomfortable feeling in your chest. You felt bad for the guy, clearly well-underprepared for the season. Your designer coat and accessories terribly clashed with his, an obvious difference in class confronted you in the face. There was a feeling of fear, you remember. Back then, you used to be one of those people who thought terribly of people like him. Thinking that he’d ask for your Burberry umbrella and never return it. You thought maybe he’d pull you aside and forcibly rob you of your money just because his shirt had a few stains and the brand name of the city’s lower-end construction company was written on the fabric. You associated him with the worst of the worst, just because of his class. Or rather, assumed class.

But those eyes captured your soul. They were warm, and his smile sent medicine to your heart, healing all those presumed thoughts and replacing them with the benefit of the doubt.

“I think there is a 7/11 around the block,” you recalled from your memory.

Thunder rolled through the city skies, and you clutched your umbrella harder. You never liked thunderstorms. There was a sense of urgency to get home to avoid any more of this growing storm, and fast. But this guy — you wanted to continue talking to him.

He raised an eyebrow at you, looking to his left.

You raised your chest, nervously pointing in the opposite direction.

“Down there,” you corrected him.

“Ah,” he smiled. It was faint, but you noticed his upper lip formed the shape of a heart before another roll of thunder drummed through the sky. You winced, and his smile faded.

“I’ll let you be on your way, then,” he said. “Thank you.”

You nodded, and he suddenly turned his back, walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the vague 7/11 down the street. He hiked the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, creating a small hat to shield his eyes from the unwanted shower. You watched the exposed skin on the small of his back as raindrops trickled into the hem of his jeans.

Suddenly, your heart skipped in your chest, and you did something your carefully formed character would never allow.

“W-Wait,” you stumbled. The click of your heeled boots rang in your ears as you walked down the small set of stairs and onto the sidewalk.

The man turned around, his posture straightening at the sight of you.

Quickly, you went to him, covering his head with your umbrella.

“I-I’ll come with you,” you offered.

His close proximity flooded all of your senses. Your fingers visibly began to shake, and you had to remind yourself to breathe when you saw how tremendous the height difference was between the two of you.

“Thank you,” he softly said.

At that moment, you knew your life changed. You saw yourself in his eyes, maybe staring a little too long for two strangers who hadn’t even exchanged names yet. But you looked into them, and somehow the raging storm had transferred from the sky into your heart.

You became a jumbled mess after then, as Taehyung had exchanged his name with yours, along with all of his habits, hobbies, and love.

Every day after that was filled with giggles and kisses and sleepless nights wrapped in his sheets. He had shown you the other side of the world, and you accepted it with him by your side. He took things from you you couldn’t imagine anyone else being worthy enough to take. All your firsts, and what you hope, all your lasts, too.

But something had been sitting at the back of your mind ever since you laid eyes on him, creating an unsettling feeling.

He was, indeed, nowhere near the class you grew up in. Living in the worst part of the city with his younger brother and sister and parents in a small, 2-bedroom apartment. He worked overtime on most days; all of his earnings he gave to his mother was to pay rent. His brother had just become old enough to help out. However, Taehyung explained that he caught him a few times slacking — the young boy claiming that he was working but instead at the casino with his friends. His younger sister was 6 years old and by far the sweetest young girl you knew. She became someone like your own sister, someone you chose to connect with on a level you weren’t able to do with your own siblings. His father fell ill a few years ago and became unable to work a demanding job. Instead, he and his wife work at their own small grocery store on the lower level of the building down the street.

His family welcomed you generously, never once commenting on your class, never once making it a topic of conversation. They called you their daughter.

What was unsettling was not the circumstances involving his family. It was the circumstances involving your own.

You hadn’t mentioned him to your parents by choice. You knew how they would react, especially considering your father had already begun selecting the sons of his most trusted colleagues to propose a marriage. Though you are not ashamed of Taehyung, your family would most definitely be. They would never accept him as your love. It would be too tarnishing to their name, too embarrassing to taint the family with someone whose house costs less than their dining room table.

You kept Taehyung out of it, which doesn’t necessarily mean he won’t stop asking about meeting your family. He’s serious enough about you to want to take things further. But it puts you in an awkward situation, like now. Gasping into the sheets of his bed, his dick pulling out of you as cum falls down your thighs.

“Baby?” he pants, hovering over you and kissing up your shoulder to your cheek. He’s still catching his breath, as are you. He just railed the fuck out of you and still begs for conversation? You will never understand this man.

“Hm,” you ask, resting your head on your forearm in a desperate attempt to control your breathing.

“I want to meet your parents,” he bites the shell of your ear gently.

You groan loudly, tired of this topic of conversation. It seems to be the only thing on his mind these days.

In the two years you two had been dating, Tae was finally able to afford a place of his own while still helping his family. His brother stepped up and managed to land a good position at a nearby company that really helped with the family finances. Hence, Taehyung’s newfound freedom from the cramped space with his family. But ever since he moved into his new apartment two weeks ago, he’s been set on (a) “christening” every nook and cranny of his new place with you and (b) meeting your family.

“Baby, can we not talk about this right now?” you press your fingers to your temple before running them into your hair.

“We never have talked about it,” he reminds you. You pause, knowing he’s right. You’ve always swayed him away from saying anything about the topic other than simply asking to talk about it.

“Why would you want to meet my parents,” you begin. You feel him smile a little, happy to start this long-awaited talk.

“Because you met mine,” he slides his elbows under your armpits, resting his chin on your shoulder. You feel secure when he’s holding you like this, his chest embracing your back as he lets his weight rest on your body. If only the moment wasn’t ruined by the topic of conversation.

“I don’t want you to meet my parents,” you finally say. You know his heart broke a little from your words, being such a family man. But you feel obligated to be honest about this.

“What? Why not?” he crinkles his eyebrows together, pressing his nose into your cheek.

“Because, Tae,” you sigh into your palm. “They’re not…nice people.”

He lets the two of you sit in silence for a while, and you know he knows what you mean by that.

“It’s because I have no money, isn’t it?” he finally lets out.

You grab his hand, drawing circles into his palm.

“Essentially,” you sigh. It doesn’t feel good to admit that. Disappointment floods your veins for him, wishing your family was less shallow. Maybe then, your response would have been different. “You know I don’t care about that stuff. But they…they do.”

“Your siblings?” he asks.

“They’re all like that,” you continue, playing with his knuckles. “I’m the only one, it seems, that isn’t.”

He plays with your hand, sliding into your fingers to hold it.

“Do you wish you were?” he whispers seriously.

“No,” you laugh.

Finally, you turn around in his embrace, looking at his face from beneath him. This man is truly the most gorgeous person you’ve ever laid eyes on. Your palm holds the soft skin of his cheek as you search his eyes.

“Growing up, I used to be a little bit,” you admit. “But then I came to university. And I met you,” you rub his cheek with your thumb. “And you kind of flipped my whole world around.”

“Sorry,” he smiles. “Wasn’t the plan,” he pecks your lips. “I just needed an umbrella.”

You chuckle at that, pulling his face against yours to sear your lips into his. He accepts you, breathing into the kiss with chapped cherry lips and a big stupid blush on his face.

“I just want their blessing,” he clears his throat. “I-Is all.”

“For?” you peck his lips again.

“For me to date their daughter, amongst other things,” he laughs through his nose. “It’s also been…a little while.”

You do feel bad, as he had introduced you to his family about three months into dating. It’s been two years, and your family doesn’t even know you are dating someone.

“You’ll meet them when they have a reason to meet you,” you sigh against his nose. “They’re like that. It has to be on their terms, not mine or yours.”

“Hopefully, that’s sometime soon,” he says before kissing you deeply. You let him, wanting his lips to erase the scenarios you’ve let flood into your head of Taehyung meeting your family. You kiss him, asking him to heal you again, to give you the endless positivity he has within himself. But you can’t shake it this time around. You have a bad feeling about it, every time you think about making things just that more official with your family meeting him. You know Taehyung is it for you. But will your parents accept that? Your gut twists and turns at the thought, your answer spelled out for you.

___

Law school used to be interesting.

Back when lectures were shorter and the professors actually cared about their job, you had a fun time. Now, you sit through your lectures with the palm of your hand dragging the skin of your cheek upward as you lean against it. You stare at the oldest fart of a professor talk in circles, “womp wo-womp womp”, like in the Charlie Brown phone scenes. The only thing that keeps you from dozing off is the thought of your date tonight.

Last week, Taehyung had been working at this new site at this development on the other side of the city. They put in a fountain lake, with three willow trees (your favorite). Your boyfriend, of course, knew this and set up the idea of a picnic date along the new Willow Tree Lake. Just the thought alone makes you giddy.

These days, Taehyung has been working terrible overtime in an area near campus. Something about the pipes being plugged with slow-forming concrete from a newer company that started off just a few months ago. They fucked up a lot of the city’s piping, and of course, the company Tae works for has been assigned to fix all of their damage.

Needless to say, you feel like you haven’t seen him in ages. Only quick cell phone calls and tired texts in the small hours of the morning and night. You miss him terribly, and your body springs to life when the professor calls the end of the lecture. It’s your last one of the day, and you nearly run out to make your way to your car, ready to start preparing for your date tonight.

You’re met with a surprise, however, when you exit your dorm.

A chalky hand grabs onto your wrist, intertwining his fingers with yours, before pulling you into his chest.

“Hi, baby,” he smiles sheepishly.

“Tae!” you squeal, letting go of his hand and jumping into his arms. You wrap your arms around his neck, his own around your waist as he spins you in the open air of the campus. You giggle against him, quietly screaming when he goes a little fast. Eventually, he lets your feet feel the ground again, and you feel a strong urge to kiss him. It’s been so long.

“You’re so chalky,” you brush at his face, white powder smearing on his skin.

With that, he shakes out his hair onto yours, white dust falling onto your skin.

“Ah! Tae!” You shield your face from his assault. But he’s unrelenting, wrapping you in his arms and pulling you in for a kiss.

You let him kiss you, his big hands stroking your cheek. You don’t let him go on for too long, still not one to be too fond of PDA like he is.

“Oh, fuck,” Taehyung’s smile fades when he looks at your dress.

“Wha—” you look down at your dress, your white Chanel dress, covered in soot and powder and dirt, transferred from his clothes onto yours. “Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” he gulps, running his hands through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/n. I wasn’t thinki—”

“It’s okay,” you smile, holding his hand. “Nothing my dad won’t buy a carbon copy of with a good excuse. To him, I fell. Plain and simple.”

Your words don’t do much, his sorry expression written all over his face still. You cup his cheek, reassuring him.

“What are you doing here, anyways?” you change the subject.

“The pipe issue I told you about ended up going into some apartment building. They sent me up there and the ceiling fell in. Hence all the…white stuff and dust,” he shows you his powdery hands, as if his cheeks and hair weren’t enough to prove his story. “Anyway, the civil engineers ended up needing to go back to the main building and find a new plan to go about it. So they sent us all home early. Thought I would come and surprise you.”

“It worked,” you kiss him again.

“I should probably go though,” he cuts the time short. “I want to shower before our date.”

“That would be nice, you’re right,” you laugh. “I’ll see you at 7, then?”

“Mhm,” he squeezes your hand again before looking down at your dress one last time. You can tell he’s still beating himself up over it when he tightly runs his hands through his hair and sends you a tight-lipped smile as if still saying sorry. You send him one back, letting him know it’s okay. And with that, he leaves your presence.

You’re alone until you reach home a little past 4. When you walked into your house, the last thing you were expecting was your eldest sister, brother, and parents waiting for you in the dining room.

“D-Did I miss something?” you laugh awkwardly. They all seem to be looking at you, disappointment or disgust written on their faces at the sight of your dress. You do your best to hide it with your purse.

“No,” your sister starts. “But we seem to be missing the part where you let dirty construction workers make out with you in public.”

You feel your heart sink to your feet, a cold heat spreading throughout your body.

“Susanna,” you pinch the skin between your eyebrows. “It’s not like that.”

“Please, enlighten us, then,” she snobs.

You take a breath, ready to explain yourself. But your father stops you.

“Invite the boy over,” he calmly states.

“What?” all four of you say at once.

“Dad, are you crazy?” your brother laughs. “He’s a construction worker.”

“Ren, please,” you attempt to control your anger. You don’t like the way they are talking about him right now. Only mentioning his job and ignoring the rest.

“What, don’t like me talking down on your pet?” he smiles, doing his best to get under your skin. It’s working, that’s for sure.

“Seriously, darling, what are you thinking?” your mother puts her hand on your father's arm.

“The boy clearly has feelings for my daughter,” he sets down his brandy on the dining table. “And, if I’m not mistaken, she has the same feelings.”

Your sister looks at you in disgust, wondering how you could ever fall for someone so low class.

“Besides, he owes me a good explanation for destroying your clothes,” he clears his throat. “That was custom designed.”

—

You run to your car after the ‘meeting’ your family welcomed you home with. Your hands shake and tremble, trying to start the car without bursting into tears.

Without even calling him, you race to Taehyung’s apartment, knocking on his door with panic laced in every vein of your body.

He opens it, a big smile warming your heart. But it quickly fades at the pale look on your face.

“What’s wrong,” he pulls you into his apartment.

He’s showered since you last saw him. He changed into his PJs, not yet ready to get into his outfit for your date tonight. On any other day, you would be struck with the comfy boyfriend look, ready to pounce into his arms and hold him close until the sun rose. But not today. Today, you have uncertainty flowing through your veins. Could this be the end? Could this be the start of something new? What will happen between now and midnight?

“Baby, talk to m—”

“My parents want to meet you,” you interrupt him.

“What?”

“T-They want to meet you,” you say again. “Actually, my entire family wants to meet you. Today. Tonight. For dinner. At my house.”

You watch him take it all in, his expression changing rapidly into emotions you can’t really put a label on. You’ve never seen this expression on his face. You’re sure it’s a bit of excitement, as he’s always wanted to meet them. But also a little bit of worry, as you’ve told him what they think of people like him.

“I-Is this about the dress?” he asks worriedly.

“Kind of!” you panic, your hands running through your hair. Frustrated tears flood your eyes. You’re just so frustrated with this situation. With your sister, with your brother and dad. With everyone but Taehyung. He doesn’t deserve this. “My sister saw us today, apparently. A-And she went to my parents, a-and they were waiting for me when I got home, along with my brother. My dad was the one who suggested you come over, and I don’t know why. I can’t read what any of them are trying to say.”

“Hey,” he grabs your shoulders. You start to cry, fat tears falling down your cheeks.

“This is not how I wanted today to go,” you cry-laugh to yourself.

“I know,” he kisses your forehead. “Just tell me what to do, and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t know what to do,” you candor as you fall into his neck, sobbing against his shirt.

His big palms rub your back. You’re sure he’s a little shocked right now. You’ve told him about your family. About what kind of people they are. You’re sure he’s scared, too. You hate this. You wish you could just run away and avoid it all.

“Let’s start with figuring out what I’m going to wear, yeah?” he gently smiles down at you.

___

Dinner is awkward. So awkward.

It’s quiet, and your leg bounces rapidly in your seat.

Your parents hadn’t let Taehyung sit next to you. Rather, he sits across from you, unable to soothe your nerves with a hand on your thigh or palm.

Your sister and brother sit next to you, your parents on either end of the table. There are two empty seats next to Taehyung, him being closest to your father.

You’re sure your siblings had interrogated him a little when your mother forced you to change into something else when the two of you got here. Clad in a pink flowy dress and a braid, you nervously made your way down the stairs and into the dining room, only to find your boyfriend in front of his seat, nodding to the space between your siblings as your own.

Since the appetizers came in, no one had spoken a word.

It’s terribly uncomfortable, and you try to distract yourself by silently telling Taehyung to put his napkin in his lap instead of next to his plate. Your brother laughs, and you jab your elbow into his side.

“So,” your father starts. His voice sends a shock down your spine. “I’m sure you have a good explanation for the dress.”

Your nerves spike the highest they’ve ever been. The dress isn’t really that important. Had it been anyone else, maybe someone your father knew or liked, the dress would be replaced without a word the next day. His pressure on the dress with Tae makes you think he will use it against him, causing you to bounce both of your legs up and down rapidly.

“Yes, I—” you start, but your father raises his palm slightly, telling you to stay quiet and let him answer.

“Yes,” Taehyung clears his throat. “I apologize, sir. I was simply being careless. I was excited to see your daughter, and had acted before realizing what she was wearing.”

“That was custom made,” your sister starts. “By Chanel.”

Taehyung doesn’t seem to recognize the name, making your sister smile snottily.

“It’s a brand,” she shoves her food into her mouth with a snobby tug of her lips.

You clutch the end of your silverware, trying to transfer all the things you wish you could scream into the piece of silver metal.

“Enough,” your father stops her interrogation. He has made it clear he would be the one interrogating tonight. “I do have to ask, though,” he turns his attention toward Tae again. “What makes you think you’re worthy of seeing my daughter?”

The table is silent, everyone’s mind empty but your own. You could think of a million reasons, maybe even more than that, as to why he deserves you. But does Taehyung think he deserves you? You thought you made it clear within the past two years that he does, but his silence speaks for itself.

After a few more seconds of being silent, your father laughs a little through his nose.

“I am aware of your financial situation so that already docks a big chunk off your worth,” he starts again.

“Father,” you try to stop him.

“Your occupation is less than fulfilling,” he continues. “Surely, you must know that affection alone cannot support her.”

Taehyung’s mouth is so dry, that he wants to drink the entire ocean. But he lets it sit in discomfort, the truth ringing through his ears like a bomb dropped right in front of him.

“You care for her, son,” he sighs. “I can see that,” your father sets down his brandy, resting his elbows on the armrests of his chair, and latching his fingers together over his lower chest. “So, why don’t we just end this here. Before it gets any deeper than it is.”

You see Taehyung’s heart drop to his stomach. You wish you could go over to him and put it right back in his chest for him, but your father continues to drop it further and further until it eventually breaks in two upon impact with the hard floor.

“I’ll give you an ultimatum, just to be sure you understand,” your father starts. “You go back to your construction work and help your parents with their grocery business. Cut her out of your life. In return, I’ll forget about the dress. About the some 70 thousand dollars you owe me for the destruction of it.”

“Father, please,” you cry, starting to stand. "It was my fault." But your sister grabs your shoulder and pushes you back down onto your seat.

“If you’re smart, you’ll understand how long that would take to accumulate on top of your other finances to return,” he continues. “If you truly care about her, you’d let her find someone who can meet all of her expectations and give her a comfortable future.”

“No,” you start, but Taehyung silences you with his gaze.

He looks to you from your father, feeling the weight of his words. You look at him, seeing how he believes every word your father is saying. You see it ring in his ears, and you know exactly what his next words are going to be.

“Sir, I—” he rasps, defeat flooding his lungs. This is not about the dress. He’d spent the rest of his life paying your father back if it meant he’d let him have you. This is about your future that he knows he can’t support; about the fact that he knows the best he can give you is nowhere near the luxury someone else can. “I just want her to be happy.”

“In this world, love is not enough for that,” Your father stands up, his hand on Taehyung’s shoulder. “I’ll show you to the door, son,” your father says.

Taehyung stills, his attention suddenly transferred to the calluses on his palms. He examines them, then the scuffs on the rim of his sleeves. It serves as a reminder, that even the best things he owns cannot match up to the expectations served tonight. He knows you don’t care. He knows you’re better than this. But surely it might become easier with time for you. Your father would find someone genius, with wealth beyond imagination. You will forget about him with time, and your wounds will heal. You’ll have an army of new cars, go to fancy banquets with designer dresses, a penthouse in the city, a smart-suit husband, and beautiful children with loads of worth to their names. He thinks about what he could give you, and it amounts to close to nothing. He’s already given you everything he has, and it’s not enough to keep you safe.

He thinks about this before standing in his seat. Your breath hitches in his throat, watching him give you up, your father’s hand on his back guiding him through the dining room, neither sparing you a glance.

“No,” you cry, standing up. Your sister tries to stop you again, but you shove her hand away.

“Y/n L/n, if you chase that boy, right now will be the last time you step in this house!” your mother slams her hands on the table.

There are words you wish you could say. So many emotions and slander and curse words you wish you could shout and spit in her face.

“I'm happy with him,” is all you can say. "I love him"

“Love is but a word,” your mother rolls her eyes. “You will forget about him in two weeks! That boy cannot support you. He can be replaced.”

“He can’t be,” you counter. Your chest rises with words, an essay might come out of your mouth, but you’re silenced when your father comes back into the room, Taehyung gone from your sight. You silence yourself, knowing you have to make a choice. Without even thinking, your feet move, and you’re brushing past your father, opening the door to you’re home and welcoming the rain.

Your parents wouldn’t have his presence in your life, banishing him from your home after he showed up in the nicest clothes he owned. They forbid him from ever seeing you again, using the price of your stained clothes as a threat if he ever were to lay eyes on you again. But you ignore that, running after him, soaking yourself in the rain once again as you chase him.

You call his name, shouting it into the street. He ignores you, and you feel you’re going crazy the more you call out his name until he finally turns around in quick anger. By this point, you two had already gone well down the street, far away from your posh, gated house. He grabs your cheeks in his palms, pressing his lips harshly against yours. You kiss him with fervor, letting the rain soak your pink dress and braided hair. He does the same, not giving a care in the world about the time he spent trying to make himself look nice for your family. He kisses you as if it would be the last time he would ever feel your lips against his again.

“We can’t do this, Y/n,” he breaks the kiss. His forehead rests against yours, his eyes close as his jaw clenches from his own words.

“Tae,” you sob, cupping his cheek. He covers your hand with his own, squeezing it tight.

“You know we can’t, Y/n,” he shakes his head, looking into your tear-filled eyes. “They will never accept me.”

“I accept you,” you sniffle. “Please don’t leave me, Tae. I accept you.”

“It’s not enough,” he whispers.

“N-No,” you shake your head.

But he already began letting go of your hand, his heel taking a step back.

“T-Tae, no,” you grab his other hand, but he forcibly makes you let go. You watch him turn on his heel, his back replacing his chest.

“Kim Taehyung,” you sob into the open air of the empty street. He does nothing, continuing his path to wherever he is going. “Taehyung!” you scream, but he doesn’t stop.

Your chest rises and falls so quickly, that you feel dizzy. Panic rises into every vein in your body, watching him grow smaller and smaller as he distances himself from you. Never in your life had you felt like it was between life or death between two choices. But god, was it clear which option had been labeled death, and which one was life.

“Marry me,” you shout. You watch his feet stop, both shoes parallel to each other. The panic in your veins slightly subsides at the fact that his distance stopped becoming larger. And then you say it again. “Marry me, Taehyung.”

He turns around, and you begin walking—running—toward him.

“Don’t say that,” he angrily breathes through his nose once you reach him.

“Marry me,” you say it again.

He looks up, despite the rain, his jaw clenched.

“I can’t go through life without you,” you cry, shaking your head. “I can’t do it.”

“You can,” he denies.

“I’m so in love with you,” you laugh, wiping the tears from your eyes. “I love you.”

His hands clench, balled into fists. God, did he love you more than the world itself. More than himself. But he can’t be selfish. He can’t rip you away from your family.

“And what about them?” he nods his head in the direction of your house.

“They can’t replace you,” you cup his cheeks, forcing him to look at you. “No one can replace you.”

“You can’t replace your family, Y/n,” he says. “I’m just a guy. Probably the least qualified to have you,” he laughs through his nose. “I can be replaced. They cannot.”

“They have given me a choice,” you cry. His words hurt. You wish you could make him see just how irreplaceable he is. You cannot replace your family, but you cannot replace him, either. “I already made it the minute I ran out of the house.”

He looks at you, finally locking eyes with yours. You feel the panic fade when he looks at you, and you can’t help but feel that this is right. That you’re making the right choice.

“Y/n,” he starts, shaking his head.

“I chose you a long time ago,” you go on. “The minute I shared my umbrella with you, I chose you. All your boxy smiles and shy laughs. Your job; your family. You. Your heart.”

A tear falls from his eye, his jaw still clenched.

“I can’t give you this life,” he takes your hands from his cheeks, holding them tightly between your soaked bodies. “I-I will never be able to afford law school or a gated mansion in the city. Or a white Chanel dress,” he whispers the last part. “Your life — I can’t rob you of it.”

“You are my life, Tae,” you rub your nose against his. “That stuff doesn’t matter. I want you. Forever.”

He gulps, the look in your eye speaking nothing but the truth. It scares him because of course, he wants the best for you. But he is unsure of himself, of what he can give you other than his heart. But the way you look at him, as if that is truly enough for you, makes his worries subside. You’re choosing him. Between life or death, you took a side, labeling him as life.

He grabs your waist, his arm pulling you into his frame as he sears his lips onto yours. Big, callused palms cup your jaw, holding you against his lips as if you’d try to escape. This time around, the kiss is hard, so needy and loved. You feel loved like you’ve never felt before. All the panic in your heart fades and is replaced with a need to keep him close. You assume he feels the same, his strong arms lifting you around his waist. You laugh against his lips.

“I love you,” you chuckle, almost in disbelief that you could love someone so much. He’s given you something you thought you’d never receive in the world your parents brought you into. You feel fresh with him, like you’ve been born again.

He kisses you again, confirming he feels the same before he sets your feet back on the wetted sidewalk.

“Let’s go,” he takes your hand.

“Where?” you follow him.

“My place,” he looks back at you.

You come up to his side, holding his arm as you walk in the rain. It was just a walk until thunder struck again, and the rain started falling ten times harsher than it was before. It causes you to shriek, and Taehyung only laughs, beginning a sprint while you follow after him.

You two ran to the bus stop, where you kissed some more, before the bus arrived and you shivered in the air conditioning of the large vehicle until it arrived on the other side of the city.

His place became a little bit of yours. You had unofficially moved in until now, as you stumble in his arms into the elevator, making out like horny teens until the number for the 15th floor rang in his ears and he pulled away.

The kisses you press to his neck make his whole body feel weak, his fingers unable to find the key to his apartment amongst the many in the single key ring chain he owns.

“Baby,” he whispers desperately. “S-Slow down, m’ trying to find the key,” he nervously chuckles.

You only run your hands under his soaked shirt, feeling the divots of his abs under your fingertips. Working at a construction company certainly did have more perks than one.

Finally, he seems to have found the key, slipping it forcibly into the lock and turning it until it opened the door to his apartment.

“Come here,” he lifts you up onto his hips, walking you inside his place and pushing you against the door, making it close all the way. He’s sure to lock it after tossing his keys somewhere on the neighboring kitchen counter as he kisses hot trails up your neck. They’re hasty kisses, and so so needy.

“T-Tae,” you grip his hair.

The feeling makes him groan, his hand forming a fist against the wall in pure self-control.

You slide your fingers under his shirt again, except this time, they go all the way up. You force his shirt off his skin, and he lets you take it off as his hands firmly grip your waist. He uses his new grip to support you when he moves you off the wall, his legs guiding you through his apartment as you kiss his neck once more. This time, to leave marks.

You latch onto his sweet spot so tenderly, and he grips your hips hard enough to leave his own marks on your skin.

With one hand, he pushes open the door to his bedroom before landing you on the soft sheets of his bed. You’re overwhelmed with him. The smell of his clean sheets floods your lungs as he traps you underneath his body.

You gasp when he slides his hands up your waist, his fingers coming to your back to find the zipper of your dress.

He waits for your permission, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he plays with the zipper.

“Please, Tae,” you allow him.

He nods against your neck, telling you without words that he’s going to undress you.

You sit up for him, making it easier for him to carry the fabric down your hips. You’re revealed to him in your soaked bra set. Nothing fancy, just nude colors to hide your undergarments beneath your dress.

But despite the plainness, you watch him admire your body, eyes flicking back and forth, trying to remember what you look like underneath the rest of your clothes. You help him, reaching behind you to unhook your bra yourself.

It falls off your shoulders and your skin perks with the cold air mixing with your wet skin.

“Make love to me,” you ask. “Please.”

Taehyung’s mouth goes dry. He’s seen you naked countless times. Fucked you like a rabbit in heat multiple times in just a day. But god, did hearing you ask him to make love to you settle the weight of your proposal from earlier. You really do choose him. And suddenly, he feels like it is the first time he’s ever looked at you naked. Like it was the first time he was going to enter your body.

He felt nervous. So, so nervous. But never so sure of anything else in his life. He knew he wanted you as his forever. But was too selfless to ask you to leave your prosperous life for his. For the longest time, he thought he was living on borrowed time with you. That one day, his first and only love would eventually leave him. His dreams are coming true, and he doesn’t know how to process that other than following your exact command.

“Tae?” you cup his cheek.

He sits on his knees, each one placed next to your thighs as you sit below him.

You watch his throat bob as he swallows, his face leaning into your touch. You bring him back to life, his body finally moving to trap you against the sheets again.

With soft lips, much less needy than the prior ones you two have shared today, he kisses you. He’s gentle as his hips press against yours. You gasp against his lips, the feeling of his clothed cock against your thin underwear stirring things inside of you.

You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing your ankles to secure his embrace over your own.

Taehyung groans, the friction making his desire uncontrollable as he grinds against your core.

“T-Taehyung,” you gasp, head falling back against the sheets. He takes this as an opportunity to trap the skin of your neck with his teeth, gently biting at your flesh in soft confessions of his love.

Your breasts push against his bare skin, feeling overwhelmed when he takes your pert nipple between his fingers, pinching them slightly, just enough to drive you crazy.

It’s all too much, his lips, his fingers, his hips grinding into you, sending waves of pleasure straight into your core. You just want him already. You want to feel full of him.

Your heels start the process, digging at the hem of his jeans as if you could get them off without your hands when they’re so securely fastened by his belt.

“Fuck,” he moans, finally granting your wish as he pushes off of you and unbuckles his belt.

Dark brown eyes admire you, laying on his sheets, giving yourself to him completely. You stare back at him, watching him push his jeans and boxers down to the floor, stepping out of them slowly before he hooks his slender finger under your panties.

“A-Are you sure?” he asks you, hiking your legs up as your underwear slides off your smooth skin.

“Yes,” you nod.

You hear your panties fall on the floor, joining the rest of your clothes, when he slowly spreads your legs, creating a place for himself as he falls on top of you again. Strong arms come under your shoulders, and you slide your hands up his neck, one arm securing him close to you, the other feeling a rapid heartbeat under his chest. You gasp when you feel the head of his cock brush gently against your thigh, so close to your core, but far enough away to make you want to beg for it. You, too, feel like it’s the first time all over again. When he took your virginity and your heart and wrote his name all over your skin.

“You look like you’re having second thoughts,” he shakily breathes above you, a small nervous smile on his lips.

“No,” you laugh shyly through your nose, looking into his warm eyes. You see yourself in them, and you’re reminded of the moment you first saw yourself in them two years ago.

“Are you scared?” he asks, lining himself up with your entrance. You know he isn’t referring to sex, but rather everything that comes after. Of your parents. Of everything you’ll have to sort out. But you know it is nothing that you won’t do alone. The man above you has made it clear that you will never feel alone again.

“A little,” you admit with a small smile.

“Me, too,” he kisses your cheek softly. With a push of his hips, his face falls into your neck, a small groan coming from his lips as you gasp and claw at the skin of his shoulder.

“Oh, T-Tae,” you moan sweetly, tangling your fingers in his hair as he slides out just to slam back into you once more. You feel giddy, a small raspy laugh coming from your throat as he develops a pace. He’s so perfect for you, fits you like a glove in more ways than one. He fills you completely. Over fills your cup with all of his love and giggles and smiles. You can’t get enough, it’s almost comical.

“Faster,” you whine, arching you back into him.

He obeys, grabbing your thighs and pushing them upwards until they’re hooked on his shoulders.

“Fuck, Y/n,” he moans, slamming into you with a newfound passion. Your nails slide down his biceps, some drawing blood from the feeling of his dick ripping you open. It makes you choke beneath him, your head falling back as he fucks you full of his cock. “S-So perfect.”

His nose brushes against your collarbone, using your neck as support when he leans his forehead against it. He takes a deep breath, breathing in your scent before he takes your hips firmly into his palms and holds you against the sheets. Your legs fall naturally, too weak to hold themselves up. But he doesn’t seem to care, instead using his new grip to pull you into his hips, pushing you deeper onto his length than you think you’ve ever gone before. The tip of his head kisses your cervix, and you wince in pleasurable pain when he slides out and slams against it again.

“A-Ah,” you whine, unsure how to feel about this new sensation. The man above you is sure, slowly but harshly pushing into you. His sureness makes you swell, and you feel like he is truly combining his body with your own the deeper he goes.

“Y-You,” he nearly slurs. Your pussy squeezes the head of his cock so justly, he feels his vision going blurry. Everything about you makes him explode. His dick, his mind, his heart. Everything. He can't even finish his sentence.

He goes faster, slipping past your folds with your slick sliding down your thighs and onto his sheets.

“T-Tae,” you panic, your high coming in quickly, setting warmly at the pit of your stomach just seconds away from release. “Tae, I’m gonna cum.”

“F-Fuck, me, too,” he moves faster, harder. His hands touch you, your skin following in flames the further his hands slide up your waist. He groans uncontrollably when you clench around him, your warm heat spreading down your walls as he makes love to you. “Y-Yn,” he whines.

“Say you love me,” you gasp, your voice nearly a whisper as you cream his cock.

“I love you,” he kisses your lips. It’s wet and so disgustingly sweet, you force him to lean himself into your body again, to use it to cum. “I love you so much.”

You watch him shut his eyes tight, his cock twitching inside of you, begging for release as he fights it, probably wanting to last longer for you, to give you a second orgasm before he lets himself cum.

“Cum for me, sweet boy,” you kiss his cheek.

“A-Ah,” he moans, his nose rubbing against yours. You squeak when he slams himself into you, harsh and raw, pushing past you as he fills you with ropes of white cum. “Oh, fuck,” he shakes, fists gathering the fabric of the sheets tightly as he falls into your neck, dick twitching as he cums hotly in your walls. He can’t control the noises, he’s never felt like this before. Like nothing else matters but his future with you.

His dick slips past your cervix, exiting your walls with loads of cum falling out of your abused cunt.

He falls on top of you, the two of you catching your breath with closed eyes and heavy limbs. Until you start laughing.

“What?” he chuckles with you. Your laugh is contagious.

He comes up to look at you, your cheeks red and your pupils shot with love.

“Nothing,” you shake your head. You look at him, cupping his cheek as he switches his gaze between your eyes and your cherry lips. “I-I’m just so happy.”

He laughs at that. Himself full of the same happiness.

“So?” you poke his cheek, raising an eyebrow.

“So?” he raises his own.

“Will you?”

“Will I…?”

“Will you marry me, silly,” you roll your eyes. Although it doesn’t seem nearly as sassy as it is supposed to, not with a giant smile plastered on your face.

“Oh,” he smiles back. “I guess.”

“'You guess'?!” you pinch his shoulder. He winces but laughs as he pulls you into a hug, switching himself on his back with your hips straddling his own. Cum leaks down onto his softening cock, but that is the last thing on either of your minds. His big hands feel the smoothness of your thighs, as yours play with the skin of his chest. If he didn’t know every one of your quirks, he would have taken it as you being silly. But he knows you’re just a little nervous about his answer.

“Yes,” he takes your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Of course I will. But, let me do it properly.”

You physically relax, and pure happiness floods your system.

“We never do things properly,” you remind him, rolling your eyes with a smile again.

“You’re right,” he acknowledges. “I-It might be a while, but at least let me buy you a ring.”

“Okay,” you bite your lip, hiding a closed-lipped smile. It doesn’t work, of course, and the two of you are left a stupid mess as you start your forever together.

___

[End. Do not copy. Original work of @jungkookstatts , 2024]

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joekeeryswife · 9 months

Text

arranged marriage 1 - f.c

hey honeys! i hope you enjoyed my last imagine. writing for Felix legit has me in a chokehold. dickhead!felix (im sorry!) mean reader at the start then she turns sweet, i also suck at endings so please ignore how bad it is and the spelling mistakes lol.

anyways, here’s another angst to fluff imagine, Felix is 22 and reader is 20! enjoy reading 🩰

taglist🩰 (add yourselves here): @hummusxx @lalademie @kikiandbella @anamiad00msday @saltburntt @livvy256 @gee72sstuff please make sure your @ are on otherwise i cannot tag you!!

“mum seriously? Felix? as in the only person i absolutely hate with a passion Felix?” your mum rolled her eyes at your outburst. it wasn’t a shock to her that you were mad, you and Felix had grown up together but for some reason the two of you never got along. your parents had grown up together and had obviously been planning this for some time.

“i’m sorry sweetheart but yes, it will be good for the two of you to finally get along, he is a really sweet boy you know” you huffed “we could get along without getting married? i mean, i’m only 20 years old. i have my whole life ahead of me to get married” you ran a hand through your hair.

“why do i not get a say in this? shouldn’t i be able to say yes or no to this?” you were frustrated, you hated Felix. and no marriage certificate was ever going to change that. “stop being silly y/n. Elspeth is so excited to have you as a daughter in law, she loves you” your mum tried to end it there but you were not giving up.

“dad please tell her she is being irrational, there is no way you have agreed to this as well” you looked over at your dad “i’m sorry honey but i have agreed and so has the Catton family. you have no idea how good this would be for us, you will be bringing two very strong bloodlines together” you wanted to scream.

marrying Felix was the worst possible thing to probably ever happen in your life. Felix was an asshole to you, rude, snobby and ignorant. he thought he was this incredible man but in reality he was just a bastard, and you would be marrying him? you wanted the ground to open up and swallow you.

“i’m sure the two of you will get along just fine, you’re being a little dramatic honey. you’re going to have a beautiful dress, a beautiful ceremony, it’ll be amazing. and Felix is a very a handsome boy and you are a gorgeous girl, your kids will be absolutely perfect” you choked on your saliva

“kids? mum are you joking? i’m begging you, please don’t force me to marry him, my life will be a misery” your mum shook her head. “enough. this is final. you will marry Felix, end of story” your dad said making you and your mum look at him. you did not ever think that you would be in an arranged marriage with Felix Catton.

“now, get ready darling, we are going to saltburn to celebrate” this was going to be hell.

-♡-

“Felix darling, will you come here for a moment please?” Felix heard his mother call out as he walked past the living room. he saw his mum and dad sat on the sofa next to each other with huge smiles on their faces. he walked into the living room and sat on the sofa opposite the two of them “should i be worried?” he said jokingly, running a hand through his disheveled hair.

“no of course not” his mum laughed. “we have some news for you which you may not like the sound of at first, but, i think the idea will grow on you” his dad said, excitement filling his voice.

“we have been speaking to y/n’s parents” Felix rolled his eyes at the mention of your name. “and we have all collectively decided that it’s time for the two of you to finally know that you will be getting married” Elspeth squealed in excitement.

his jaw dropped “isn’t that amazing? oh god it’s so nice for the secret to finally be out” his father seemed just as ecstatic as his mother.

“you are joking right?” his mothers smile faltered “no, it’s not, you two are getting married. oh i am so thrilled Felix, we have been planning this for ages and now that you both know i think it’s really set it in stone.” he shook his head at her.

“no, absolutely not. i’m sorry but there is no way in hell that i am marrying y/n” he shook his head and laughed. “this is bullshit, we fucking hate each other, why the fuck would you two even think that is a good idea?” he felt sick. “Felix, don’t use that type of language please” Elspeth said.

“mum, she’s a bitch. you really think i want to marry her?” James shook his head “she is a lovely girl. it’ll be good for us Felix. and it will be nice for you two to get along” Felix scoffed at his father. “you guys can plan this as much as you want, but i am not marrying that girl. i am 22 years old and i am old enough to make my own decisions, no is no”

“you will be, sorry Felix but it’s already started to be planned. the two of you will be getting married so you best start to try and get along. you guys will be moving into a lovely house after your honeymoon, you two will be fine” Elspeth said, her voice stern.

“now, since you know the news, go get ready. we are having a huge party to celebrate your engagement” he scoffed and walked away from his parents. this was going to be a long night.

-♡-

your mother had already picked out your engagement party dress and to be honest she did a good job of picking it. the dress wasn’t too over the top which you were grateful for. this whole idea of getting married to someone you hated was a lot of getting used too. you didn’t even have a ring yet which you knew would make it feel more real.

when you envisioned yourself your life you didn’t expect to get married for a few more years, and you would be getting married to someone you actually loved. you never thought your parents would force you to get married to anyone, let alone Felix. “are you excited for the party?” your mum said pulling you out of your thoughts.

you gave her a tight lipped smile and nodded “look, i know it’s not what you wanted but we wouldn’t do it if we didn’t think it would work out. you and Felix will love each other in no time. i think when you two spend time together you will start to really like him” she grabbed ahold of your hand.

you were honestly willing to try the marriage thing for the sake of your parents, Felix was nice to everyone but you and you wanted to find out why. “oh, we invited practically everyone we know so be prepared to show fake smiles” she added as you stopped outside of Saltburn. knowing that you had to be lovey dovey with Felix made you anxious, it’s not like it was going to be easy when the two of you despised each other.

“right, let’s get this over with” you said as you exited the car, your mum scoffed “don’t speak like that y/n, you will enjoy yourself” she said as she linked her arm with your fathers. you followed behind the two of them and looked around the front garden of Saltburn, it had been covered in all different types of gold decorations.

Duncan the butler was waiting for you all at the front of the house, even though it was a party his face was still nonchalant. “theyre all waiting for you in the back garden, guests have already began to arrive.” your mother and father thanked him and made their way inside “not even going to break a smile for me, this is a party after all” you joked “enjoy the party y/n” he said making you laugh and brush past him. there was no breaking Duncan.

you made your way to the back garden which was just like the front, covered in gold decorations with guests slowly filling every section dressed in their party attire. you spotted Elspeth, James and Felix with your parents and you knew you would have to go over there. you put on your best brave faces d made your way over there.

Felix looked miserable as he stood next to his mother his eyes fixated on the grass. he hated the thought of you, he hated the thought of the two of you getting married even more. “aww there is the beautiful bride to be” he heard his mother say which made him look up from the ground.

now, even though you and Felix hated each other, there was no way he’d lie and say you weren’t beautiful because you were. you were one of the most beautiful people he had ever met. but that didn’t change the fact that he thought you were the most annoying person he’d ever met.

“gosh you look gorgeous” Elspeth said as you finally stood next to your parents. she pulled you into a hug and kissed your cheek. “now that you are here we can talk to you both. we know that the two of you don’t get along but we are very happy that you are going along with the arrangement. we promise you both that it will be all worth it in the end” James spoke quietly but loud enough for you all to hear. they obviously didn’t want people knowing that it was an arranged marriage.

“we will see about that dad, this is the worst day of my life” Felix said shaking his head. hearing him say that hurt you a little bit and you didn’t know why. you didn’t show the hurt on your face and you were quick with a comeback “likewise, i’d rather drown in bleach then have to marry you but here we are”

“why don’t the two of you go talk to one another about it? it might be good for you two to have an actual conversation instead of arguing all the time. go to the library, there isn’t anybody in there” Elspeth said looking between the two of you. “oh and if you see any guests and they congratulate you, please act like the two of you love each other” she added as the two of you started, asking your way to the library.

the walk to the library was silent until one of the Henry’s and his wife stopped the two of you “there is the happy couple. we have been waiting for the two of you to get together since you were young. you look gorgeous together” Henry’s wife said. your sour expression was quickly forgotten and you tried your best to show you were happy by putting the fake smile on your face.

you felt Felix’s arm go around your waist. “thank you, it didn’t take too much convincing” you said as convincing as possible. “let me see your ring dear, it must be beautiful” your eyes widened, you did not think about that at all. “it’s at the jewellers, i accidentally got the wrong size so we need to get her a temporary ring until her real one comes back” Felix was quick with his answer.

“how did you propose Felix? was it romantic?” you both nodded “very, we were on a couples holiday. we went for dinner and then we went for a walk along the beach and i just got down on one knee when i felt like the time was right” how was he so quick with these answers?

“wow, that is truly romantic. anyways, we don’t want to keep you guys for any longer. congratulations you two” with that the two of them walked toward the garden. “how the fuck did you come up with that so quickly?” you said as you both also continued walking. “dunno, i just made it up” his voice was flat and his arm dropped from your waist.

the two of you reached the library and Felix closed the door behind him. you sat on the sofa and he sat next to you awkwardly “so, how are you feeling about this situation then?” you spoke trying to stop the awkwardness. “how do you think? i’m being forced to marry a girl who i despise” he scratched the back of his neck.

“well, i’m not ecstatic about it either but, we have to do it. we just need to try and be nice to one another and i think it could work out. it’s gonna be awkward but-” he cut you off quickly “do you really think i’m gonna try work this out? with you? you must be out of your mind” he started, you didn’t like where this was going at all.

“you are the most annoying person i’ve ever met, you do realise this marriage is just to make our parents look good? there is no way i will try work this out with you. i will never like you, i will never love you. you’re just going to be a person i’m being forced to live with” you looked at him “you are unlovable. no one will ever fall in love with you, you are that frustrating. your parents probably agreed to this marriage because they know no one else will fall in love with you” his tone was harsh. hearing him say that broke you.

you could feel your eyes filling with tears which you tried to conceal as best you could but it was no use. even though you hated him his words cut deep. “that’s a really fucked up thing to say” you shook your head and got up to walk away, slamming the library door as you walked to the nearest bathroom. you could feel your chin quiver as you sniffled, trying your best to keep your tears at bay.

Felix knew that was a low blow, and he regretted his choice of words as soon as they left his mouth. he was left in the huge library, the deafening silence making him feel even worse for how he spoke to you. the two of you always threw insults at each other but nothing like that, ever.

he could tell that you were trying to make the best out of a shitty situation and he had to ruin it by overstepping the mark. he knew that he was going to have to apologise to you because he did, that time, take it too far. he spotted Theo, another butler stood at the end of the hallway. “did you see where she went?” he asked him as he shoved one of his hands in his pocket.

“she walked into the bathroom down that way sir” Theo pointed in the direction you had gone, he nodded “thanks” he started making his way to the bathroom and once he was outside the door he could hear your quiet sobs. he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t think the person he was about to comfort would be you let alone for something he said.

he knocked on the door gently, he heard your sobs stop. “who is it?” you called out, trying your best to hide the waver in your voice. “can i come in?” he questioned. he was stood outside the door for a couple of minutes before he heard you unlock the door. he walked into the bathroom and saw you sat on the floor next to the door.

he cautiously sat down next to you, not knowing how you were going to react. “look, i’m sorry for what i said. that took it too far and i am truly sorry. i’m just stressed about the situation and i took it out on you and i shouldn’t have done that” you just nodded and looked down at your lap.

he sighed, he knew that both of you would have to figure out a plan. the two of you were getting married which seemed scary to both of you and if you went through with it with out a plan it would just crumble. he spoke “so” you looked up from your lap to look at him “we need a plan” you nodded again. “how do you wanna do this?”

#fanfiction #imagines #felix catton series #felix catton x fem!reader #felix catton imagine #felix catton imagines #felix catton x reader #felix catton #saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #saltburn #jacob elordi x fem!reader #jacob elordi imagines #jacob elordi imagine #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi

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littlexdeaths · 5 months

Text

scotty doesn’t know - e.m.

eddie munson x fem reader

18+ ONLY MDNI

warnings: no use of y/n, cheating, protected piv sex, light degradation kink, spanking, phone sex kinda?, shitty boyfriend behavior, mentions of alcohol/partying, some angst, all characters are 18+!

series masterlist

based on scotty doesn’t know by lustra

a/n: i’ve worked so hard to spruce up this series and i’m so excited to be reposting it for you all. be on the lookout for the next two parts. this fic is my actual baby, and it means so much to me. i hope you all enjoy xx.

word count: 4.3k

It had started out as mostly a joke, a proposition that he never imagined you’d actually take him up on.

You always thought Eddie Munson, the town ‘freak’ was incredibly attractive, not that you’d ever voice that opinion to anyone. Mostly due to the fact that you had a boyfriend, who in the eyes of everyone in Hawkins— was the definition of perfect.

Scott McGuire was a great boyfriend… on the surface.

He was a star basketball player, friends with the most popular people in school. His family was loaded, despite being from a small town like Hawkins. He drove a Mercedes, and made you feel so special. When he had asked you out halfway through your junior year, you were over the moon.

And in the beginning of your relationship, you were beyond smitten with him. But after a year of dating him, you’d come to realize he was nothing you had wanted.

Scott was arrogant, vain and downright cruel. His biggest flaw being that he took absolute pleasure in causing pain to others. The main target of his rage was Eddie and his band of ‘freaks’. His best friend Jason was right by his side, constantly tormenting the group. But always Eddie more so than anyone else. You never enjoyed it, always finding a way to escape the moment an insult (or a punch) was thrown his way.

Despite all of this, you felt pressured to stay with him.

Your parents absolutely adored him and so did your friends. Most of which were the girlfriends of his friends. Your lives had become so interwoven you felt trapped. So to appease everyone else in your life, you continued the relationship. Even though you knew you didn’t love him.

In your eyes he was, all around, the worst boyfriend you could have landed… especially when it came to sex.

Scott was terrible in bed.

He only wanted you on his terms, only caring about his wants and needs. And in the year you’d been with him, he’d never made you come. Not once. At first you thought something was wrong with you, that you were broken.

But the more you talked with your friends on the cheer squad, the quicker you began to realize it was a Scott problem. Not a you problem. So you started faking it, your little act becoming so good that you even deluded yourself into believing it sometimes.

But that was how you got yourself into this predicament in the first place.

You were at a party at Chrissy’s, a celebration for the basketball team making it to the state championship. Initially you wanted to stay home, as parties were never something you enjoyed. But you knew how bad it would look if you didn’t show. So you went, swallowing your pride with a fake smile plastered across your face.

You let yourself fall into the role of the proud, doting girlfriend. You knew how to play it well, as it was second nature to you at this point.

At some point during the night Scott had pulled you into a random bedroom, with the promises of rocking your world. Those promises fell short, as they always did. Scott had you propped up on the unmade bed, gripping your hips as he pounded sloppily into you. The fake moans that left your lips somehow had convinced you both that you were enjoying yourself.

That is until the door swung open and a semi-tipsy Eddie Munson stumbled upon the scene. He was originally looking for the bathroom, much to the embarrassment of you both. You couldn’t hide the shame that flitted across your features, or stop your moans from faltering slightly.

Scott miraculously didn’t notice the intrusion as he continued to thrust into you, your fake moans continuing to fill the small bedroom. Your eyes were locked with Eddie’s as he stood frozen in the doorway. The two of you just stared at each other for a few moments, before he snapped out of whatever stupor he was in and quickly left the room.

You figured nothing would come from it, except for a new found embarrassment every time you saw him in class. But what you didn’t expect was for him to seek you out in study hall that following Monday.

You were in the library, searching for a new book to read when he cornered you. His curls were wild, that faded Hellfire shirt hugged his broad shoulders nicely. A playful smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as you tried not to stare. But those brown eyes seemed to look right through you.

“You know, I’ve seen better acting in pornos.” He spoke softly, as not to embarrass either of you.

Or to alert Ms. Hall, the school librarian.

She was such a hard ass, especially when it came to talking in the library. You had hoped that maybe Eddie would’ve been too drunk to remember what happened at the party. Or both of you would ignore the situation.

But that clearly wasn’t the case. You can feel the embarrassment coursing through you as you actively avoided his curious gaze.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Munson,” you sneer before turning on your heel, grabbing a random book off the shelf in the process.

You clutch the paperback closer to your chest as you quickly try to escape the conversation.

He doesn’t let you get very far though, trailing behind you before taking a seat next to you at one of the study tables.

“I mean it must be frustrating, faking it all the time,” he continues nonchalantly, resting a ringed hand next to yours on the table.

His fingertips drum against the faux wood, as you struggle to think of a reply. But your continued silence and flustered appearance spoke volumes as you began to fiddle with the frayed hem of your dress.

Eddie leans in closer, letting his breath fan across your face. The smell of his spicy cologne and a hint of smoke engulfs your senses, making your head spin.

He hums softly, keeping his voice low, “Just doesn’t seem fair. Any decent guy would make sure you were being treated well.”

You could feel his body heat due to the close proximity, biting your lip as you stopped yourself from leaning against him.

“He does treat me well,” you whisper back, glancing down at the book as you begin flipping through the pages.

Eddie scoffs at the notion as his hand reaches out to close the cover again. His fingertips brush against yours in the process, the small touch sending tingles down your spine.

The male glances around the mostly empty library before he leans in closer. His lips nearly graze the shell of your ear as you hold your breath in anticipation. Eddie chuckles deeply, enjoying just how flustered he’s made you.

“Well, if you want to know what it’s like to be properly taken care of…” he trails off, as you let out a shaky breath. “You know where to find me, sweetheart.”

The promise behind his words instantly makes your thighs clench together. Watching in stunned silence as he quickly gets up and strolls out of the library.

Those words sat with you for days, taunting you.

Finding yourself utterly frustrated, in more ways than one. You just couldn’t shake how badly you wanted to take him up on that offer. Morally, you knew it was wrong— you had a boyfriend.

But there was something that felt so right about it.

Despite your initial reservations, you very quickly found yourself in the back of Eddie’s van. Your legs were flung over his shoulders, your fingers tangled in his curls as his tongue had you seeing stars. It became blatantly obvious from your first time together that there was no way this could be a one time thing.

So you compromised, agreeing to meet up once a week. But only on Sundays, when you could give Scott the excuse of going to church with your parents. Ironically your family was not the church going type, but your boyfriend never questioned it.

However the longer you snuck around with Eddie, the more insatiable you became. Until it was almost a daily occurrence that you were under him, begging him to show you everything you were missing out on. It had surprised the both of you, but Eddie was more than happy to oblige.

But the constant sneaking around meant you couldn’t exclusively fuck in the back of his van anymore. Causing the both of you to become more creative in the process.

More than once you’d pull him under the bleachers in the gym once basketball practice ended. His ringed fingers tangled in your hair as you dropped to your knees. Or he’d bend you over the table in the drama room after a Hellfire campaign, dice and crushed cans of Mountain Dew falling off the table with each thrust of his hips.

But it still wasn’t enough, which led you to take more drastic measures.

You were on all fours, fingers clutching your floral bed sheets as Eddie pounded into you from behind.

Your parents were gone for the weekend to celebrate their wedding anniversary. Which left you with the house all to yourself, something that didn’t happen often. So this was an opportunity you didn’t want to pass up. Dialing his number before you even got out of bed that morning.

Regardless of his not so stellar reputation, it didn’t seem to sway a lot of women in Hawkins. And despite what Scott might have told you, Eddie has had plenty of sexual partners before. As many jumped at the chance to see if the rumors about the local freak were true. Which only seemed to fuel more rumors about the metalhead.

But out of everyone he had ever slept with— you were by far the neediest of them all.

Eddie couldn’t deny that he loved it. Knowing he was the only one who could turn you into a crying, blubbering mess. Not even seemingly perfect Scotty McGuire could make you feel this way. He would pay to see the look on his face if he could see just how wrecked you were.

Tears of pleasure streaming down your cheeks as you begged the town freak to fuck you harder.

“Look at you, such a needy little slut,” he chuckles, condensation lacing his tone. “Couldn’t even wait a whole day for my cock, huh?”

Eddie was by far the biggest guy you’ve ever had, and he certainly knew how to use it. His cock reached places inside you that you didn’t know existed until now. So it was no surprise that you didn’t want to wait another day to see him again.

But deep down you knew that wasn’t the only reason you had called him over. However, you weren’t entirely ready to have that conversation with yourself yet.

“I… shit,” you mewl, finding yourself at a loss for words as he increased his pace.

Pathetic whines spill past your lips with each thrust of his hips, your walls gripping him tightly. Pleasure coursed through you as he brought you closer and closer to the edge. A mixture of your arousal and his spit was smeared across your thighs. A reminder of where he’d been slotted between them earlier.

“Aww, come on, sweetheart,” he teases, nipping at your ear as he slows to a more gradual pace. “Be a good girl and tell me who’s making you feel so good.”

The orgasm that had been building in your abdomen suddenly fizzles out as he stills his hips at your deepest point. You nearly cry out in defeat as he lands a harsh slap on your ass.

You knew the rules by now, he needed to hear you.

“Y-You… fuck you are, Eddie.” He hummed in response, guiding your hips forward.

“That’a girl.”

The drag of his cock has you whining, the sound quickly being drowned out by the phone on your bedside table. You fully intended to ignore the shrill ringing as you began grinding your ass back against him. But he grips your hips to stop any further movement.

“Answer it.”

Your eyes widen as you glance over your shoulder at him, bewilderment crossing your features. There’s a smirk playing on his lips as he lands another slap on your ass, “That wasn’t a suggestion, sweetheart.”

You quickly fumble for the phone, not wanting this to end so soon. You’d come to realize just how much Eddie enjoyed teasing you the more you slept together. But you’d had enough teasing for one day.

So you place the receiver against your ear, trying to calm your erratic breathing, “H-Hello?”

You mentally curse yourself for the way your voice shakes, feeling your stomach drop at the voice on the other end of the line.

“You alright, babe? You sound winded,” you can hear the slightest bit of suggestiveness in his tone, having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes.

This was something you’d come to expect from Scott, the male always finding a way to bring sex into every conversation. Despite knowing he was actually spot on this time, only it wasn’t your fingers that were buried inside you.

But what you didn’t anticipate was for Eddie to start thrusting back into you at a leisurely pace. You bite down onto your lower lip for a moment before you laugh, the sound not at all genuine. But Scott couldn’t tell the difference, he never paid enough attention.

“I’m great, Scott.” Your breath hitches in your throat as Eddie’s lips graze over your shoulder, “J-Just in the middle of a… workout.”

You hear Eddie laugh softly behind you, the male on the other end blissfully unaware of the kind of workout you were currently engaged in. Despite your initial reservations about answering the phone, you couldn’t deny the rush it gave you. Almost wanting to be caught like this.

“You still swinging by the party tonight?” Scott asks, as you continue to pulse around Eddie’s thick shaft.

His thrusts deepen, slipping a hand between your thighs to rub your sensitive clit. Your thoughts are completely jumbled as you try to stay engaged with the conversation. But it’s proving to be difficult.

“P-Party?” You breathe out, gripping the receiver tighter in your palm.

You can hear your boyfriend’s annoyed sigh, knowing he was rolling his eyes as your own rolled into the back of your head. Eddie grunts softly in your other ear as he rams into your sweet spot. It took every bit of your remaining self restraint to not moan directly into the phone.

“It’s Tommy’s birthday. I told you about it last week,” he huffs, clearly no longer amused.

You vaguely recall the conversation, but lately you’d found yourself tuning him out more and more. Having much more important things to occupy your attention.

“Right! No, I remember now.” Your words come out whinier than you intended, but Scott doesn’t seem to notice.

You were getting close, and Eddie knew it too.

“So? Are you coming?”

Eddie stifles another laugh at the unintended joke.

He quickly wraps his ringed fingers around the base of your throat and lifts you, so your back is now flush against his sweaty chest. The new angle allows him to slip even deeper inside, causing a gasp to escape you. You quickly disguise it as a cough, before answering your boyfriend.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Listen, I-I gotta go. See you tonight.”

You hang up the phone before he even has a chance to respond. The loud moan that was trapped in your throat is finally set free, earning a groan from the male behind you.

Eddie’s disheveled curls began tickling your face as he leaned toward your ear again, “Bet he didn’t suspect a damn thing, huh?”

You can hear the smugness in his tone, whimpering as he puts more pressure on your clit.

“Cause he can’t make you feel the way I do. Can he, sweetheart?” You frantically nod your head before letting it fall back onto his shoulder.

You know you can’t hold out for much longer, and judging by the way his cock twitches inside you— Eddie won’t either.

His lips attach themselves to the curve of your neck, sucking harshly as you tremble in his arms.

“Ed… f-fuck I’m gonna—” you are unable to finish your thought as that familiar wave of euphoria crashes over you.

He nearly growls as you cry out his name again and again, the sound being his undoing. He spills into the condom with a grunt of your name, his chest heaving as he buries himself at your deepest point. The sounds of his erratic breathing mixes with yours, filling the now quiet space of your bedroom. Feeling utterly weak in the best way possible.

And if his arms weren’t securely wrapped around your waist, you would’ve collapsed face first into the mattress.

You stay entangled like that for a few moments while you both come down from your highs. Enjoying the way his lips press against the curve of your shoulder.

Eddie’s actions are gentle now, carefully guiding your hips up to slip out of you. He coaxes you to lay on your back, a lazy smile playing on your lips as you gazed up at him. As amazing as the sex was, what came after was just as enjoyable.

Emotionally, your boyfriend was always unavailable.

Especially after a round in the sheets, he was particularly cold. In the year you’d been together Scott had never once held you or comforted you. It always left you with an overwhelming sense of shame— of feeling used.

So naturally you had expected the same kind of treatment from Eddie, as you had never experienced aftercare before. After that first time together you had begun to put your clothes back on, attempting to leave right away.

But he stopped you with a soft, “Don’t go.”

It didn’t take much convincing as you laid your head on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heart. He kept you tucked in his embrace for hours, fingertips dancing along your hip. From that moment on it was the same treatment. His affection only increased the more you fooled around.

Your eyes follow him as he rises from the bed to toss the condom in your trash bin. Giving Eddie the opportunity to finally take a look around your room.

You suddenly felt nervous as he made his way over to your record collection, flicking through the vinyls with the utmost care. While your popularity status had recently changed due to dating Scott, you always felt out of place amongst them. You could never be your full authentic self, in fear of rejection from your peers.

Eddie seemed to find a record that he liked, sliding it out of its sleeve and placing it on the turntable. It is quiet for a moment, the crackle of the record is almost comforting. Soon the beginning notes of the Labyrinth soundtrack fill that silence. You instantly feel shy, not expecting him to choose that album in particular.

Your boyfriend had teased you relentlessly for your love of David Bowie, always complaining about how weird he was. It made you feel ashamed to talk about any of your interests, most of which you’d hidden away in fear of being mocked.

But with that small act Eddie had proved, once again, that he was superior to Scott in every way imaginable.

He begins to hum along to the opening track, grabbing his boxers from the pile of your discarded clothes on the floor. Sliding the checkered material back over his legs, the fabric hanging low on his hips. You bite your lip as your eyes drift over his pale skin, zeroing in on the patch of hair that descended into his waistband.

“Keep giving me those eyes and we’re gonna have a problem, princess.” He teases, his smirk widening as he catches you ogling him.

You feel your body flush as he shoots you a playful wink before slipping into your adjoined bathroom. You hear the tap turn on, the rush of water mingling with the sultry baritone of Bowie’s vocals. You allow your body to relax against the mattress, a sense of calm washing over you.

Eddie wasn’t gone for long, emerging from the bathroom with a glass of water and a damp washcloth. He sets the glass on your nightstand, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. The male carefully parts your legs, pressing a kiss to your knee as he cleans up the mess of salvia and slick that has dried onto your thighs.

You let your eyes linger on his face, watching him in complete admiration. His cheeks are tinged pink, no doubt from the weight of your gaze. He’s also not used to being regarded with such gentleness.

Eddie sheepishly avoids your eyes as he stands, tossing the used cloth into your hamper. You scoot into a sitting position to take a few sips of water from the glass. Blatantly checking him out as he bends over to grab another piece of clothing from your carpeted floor.

“Arms up,” he instructs, allowing him to pull your oversized shirt over your head.

He quickly joins you again, causing a small giggle to escape you as he squeezes himself onto your twin sized mattress. The male grins, allowing you to drape your body over his. You tangle your limbs together, instinctively resting your head on his chest.

Your eyes flutter shut as you listen to the steady beat of his heart in your ear. A soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, feeling him press a kiss to the top of your head.

In moments like this, it was easy for you to pretend that Eddie Munson was all yours.

There were no worries about being caught, or what anyone in this god forsaken town had to say about it. But the more time you spent with him, the more you began to realize that you wanted him all to yourself.

You knew it was incredibly selfish, he didn’t deserve to be someone’s secret side piece. So you kept these newly emerging feelings to yourself.

“You feeling okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, lifting your head to meet his gaze. “I wasn’t too rough or anything, was I?”

Eddie’s tone was vastly different from how he’d spoken to you earlier, and yet it only made your adoration for him grow. Knowing he truly cared about your feelings, it wasn’t just a courtesy.

His hand gently caresses your sore ass, his fingertips continuing to ghost over the curve of your spine. The tenderness of his actions made you shiver as you nuzzled your face back into his chest.

“It was perfect.” You hum, voice echoing your contentment, “You were perfect.”

Gentle, rough or anything in between— you’d be grateful as long as it was with him.

You were sure he could feel the warmth that had begun to seep into your cheeks at your admission. Reaching out his hand to delicately grasp your chin, tilting your head up to meet his curious gaze.

But it wasn’t just curiosity that shone through his eyes.

There was something else. Something deeper simmering beneath the surface of his irises.

This was uncharted territory for you, as no one, not even your boyfriend had regarded you in such a way before. But that single look alone made your heart flutter rapidly against your ribs.

You both begin to lean in without realizing, lips brushing together as you cradle his jaw. This was something completely new for both of you. While you’d kissed plenty of times, it never happened after the sex ended.

This was quickly becoming a dangerous game, one neither of you had any intention of losing.

And as hard as you tried to avoid your feelings, you knew you were starting to fall for him. Which was the most dangerous game of them all.

Your lips continued to move against each other for what felt like forever, only breaking apart to catch your breath every so often. Kissing Eddie was just as addicting as every other part of him, and you never wanted it to end.

So you stayed like that for hours, stealing kisses in between gentle words. He told you about his home life with Wayne, how he’d listened and memorized every single chord of Master of Puppets until he got it right. Little things that made you understand exactly who Eddie Munson really was.

But time seemed to pass by in an instant, the evening sky bathing the walls of your room in a golden hue. A signal that it was time for him to leave.

You felt a tug on your heartstrings as you watched him slide open your bedroom window, desperately wishing the circumstances were different.

“Wait!” you call as he was already halfway through the window, flashing you a grin as you bounded over to him.

You press a searing kiss to his mouth as he cups your cheek, neither of you quite willing to be the first to pull away.

“I gotta go,” he tries to mask the disappointment in his tone, pressing one last kiss to your lips before slipping out of your window completely.

You watch as the male clumsily jumps down from the second story, his wallet chain jingling upon impact. Eddie takes a moment to steady himself before he turns back to glance up at you. Giving you a little bow before he’s off, cutting through your neighbors yard to get back to his van.

You can hear the blaring guitar of Quiet Riot as he starts up the engine, the rumble echoing in your ears as he takes off down the empty street.

Taking a little piece of your heart with him.

— next chapter.

tagging some peeps who seemed interested 💕

@xxbimbobunnyxx @vamp-bunny @munsonhoneybaby @mugloversonly @lokis-army-77

and a special shoutout to my bby @undead-supernova for always being my lil cheerleader ily 🫶🏻

#the freak writes 🫧#my series: scotty doesn’t know 🫧#eddie munson x female character #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson angst

641 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 5 months

Note

girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻

Forever

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡

6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡

Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.

Well, that's what you wanted to believe.

There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.

He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.

You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.

He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.

He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.

Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.

You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.

Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.

You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.

He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.

"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"

"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.

"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.

"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.

Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"

"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."

Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."

You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.

While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.

"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."

He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.

You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.

"Let's light her up!" you announced.

The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.

"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.

You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.

"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.

You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.

The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.

You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."

"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.

"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.

You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.

"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.

Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.

Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"

"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.

"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."

Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.

"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"

"Okay!"

The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.

You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.

"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."

"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.

"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."

You flushed, biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.

Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.

He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.

His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.

He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.

His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.

You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.

"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"

Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.

He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.

He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."

"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.

You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.

"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.

You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.

As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.

You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?

No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.

Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.

It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.

He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse.

Just too good to be true.

Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.

"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.

"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.

Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."

"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.

"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.

"No," Elijah stated simply.

"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.

"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"

"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.

"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.

"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."

"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."

"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."

"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.

"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"

Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"

"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."

Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.

"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."

"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."

Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.

"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"

Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.

"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."

"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.

She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.

Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?

He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.

"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.

"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."

"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."

"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."

"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."

You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.

He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.

But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.

Because if you were gone, so was he.

You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.

He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.

"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.

"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.

"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.

"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."

"That's putting it lightly."

You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.

"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.

"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."

"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.

"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.

"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.

"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.

"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.

"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.

"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."

Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."

"And Elijah?" you asked.

Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."

"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."

You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.

Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.

We need to talk.

You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.

Tomorrow.

You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.

The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.

Elijah had texted you back.

Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.

You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.

Why are you sending a car?

A response came instantly.

It's a surprise.

You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.

Fine, give me 10 minutes.

Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.

You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.

Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.

"Good morning," he said.

"Morning," you replied.

He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.

"What?" you asked.

"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."

You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."

"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.

You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"

"The airport," he replied.

"What? Why?" You were completely confused.

"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."

"Where are we going?"

"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.

"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.

"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.

"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."

"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."

He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.

You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.

As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.

"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.

"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."

You looked up at him and kissed him softly.

"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."

"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.

The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.

Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.

"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you yawned.

You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.

"Welcome to Positano," he said.

"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's magical," you gushed.

"Yes, it is."

The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.

You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.

The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.

The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.

"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.

"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.

Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.

You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.

You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.

"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.

"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.

"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."

"Eli-"

"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."

You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.

The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.

"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.

"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.

"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.

"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.

"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."

You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.

"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.

"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"

"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.

He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.

"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."

"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."

He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.

You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.

"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."

"I like the sound of that," you moaned.

"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.

His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.

You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.

"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.

He set you on your feet and turned the water on.

"We are covered in sand," he grinned.

The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.

The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.

He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.

"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.

You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.

"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.

Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.

But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.

"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.

He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.

You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.

He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.

"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.

"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.

His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.

"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.

"All of it," you said.

"Right here, up against the shower wall?"

"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.

He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.

He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.

He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.

"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.

"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.

He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.

His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.

Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.

"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.

He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.

Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.

He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.

"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.

"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.

"Not long enough," he smirked.

He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.

He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.

"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.

"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.

He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.

"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.

His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.

"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.

He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.

You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.

You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.

You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.

He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.

"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.

"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.

"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.

"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.

"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.

"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.

"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."

"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."

The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.

The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.

There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.

When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.

"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.

"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.

"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"

"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.

"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.

"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.

"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.

Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.

"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.

"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.

Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.

"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."

The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.

"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.

You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."

"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.

"Will you be my flower girl?"

She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"

You laughed and hugged her back.

Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.

You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.

"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.

"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.

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depresssant · 3 months

Text

'it's an american wedding. they don't mean too much. we were so in love.'

yandere!gojo x reader

synopsis : a simple senior year predicament landed you in a cage you were sure was bound to drive you insane.

it was always survival over luxury for you

amongst the rich kids, you were like a penny in a pile of a hundred dollar bills. seeing people with expensive cars and brand clothes that probably cost thousands of dollars never really mattered to you. you came from a very poor background and it never really mattered to you because there was nothing wrong with being poor. you really couldn't care less since some people were just unlucky. like you.

however, you didn't know what you were doing in a place like this.

everybody deserved the chance to climb out of poverty to live a good life. that was a belief you held onto firmly because it was the only thing that you kept you going, but you did not belong in an estate like this.

but now here you were, and you couldn't regret it more than you did right now.

"what the hell, satoru?"

the bane of your existence tilted his head and furrowed his brows in that manner that captured the hearts of everyone. if only they saw. if only they knew. if only they realized who this wolf in sheep's clothing truly was⏤that this persona of a kind, cheerful, and loving guy everybody knew and loved wasn't who he truly was. he was the devil walking amongst humans, and he was fooling them all.

"what?" he asked all innocently with his teasing grin and flirty eyes that finally weren't hidden behind those sunglasses that he wore everywhere.

"dinner with my mom? what the hell is wrong with you?"

"she invited me over, babe. what was i supposed to do? reject her offer?"

gosh, he was insufferable. he knew exactly what he was doing, but didn't want to admit it. the idea of his new, profound actions had made that pit of unease which settled in your stomach grow with each little skin-crawling thing he did.

this wolf sauntered around helpless sheep, picking them out one by one until he reached his prey. you. the thing was, you didn't know why he was so fixated on you.

that was the worse part.

he was out to get you, and you couldn't do anything but wait.

and satoru had now picked out your mother.

"leave her alone! she's got nothing to do with this!" you hissed out like a feral cat, but you were good at controlling your emotions. this rolling stone just managed to bring out the worst in you⏤the ugly you didn't know existed.

satoru laughed and wrapped his arms around you in a suffocating hug as he smothered himself into the crook of your neck. "relax." his arms tightened the second you tried to move around. it was a warning. "is it wrong for me to meet my wife's mom? besides, your mom is an amazing cook. i can see where you got your skills from."

your mom.

the three days since you hadn't seen her felt like an eternity. was she worried? was she lonely? was she concerned about this “friend” you were having a sleepover with? considering your history, you wouldn't be surprised if she tore up the entire neighborhood looking for you before you were finally allowed to message her.

satoru's attention on you was like working a full time job in which you only clocked out when you fell asleep. even then, he found ways to ruin it for you, either with his helicopter behavior or die hard need to be touching you every second of the day.

your silence was something he didn't like, so he squeezed your body under his hold. that was enough of a threat. holding back a sigh, you reluctantly returned to running your fingers through his silky, pure snow-colored hair that surrounded his beautiful face like a halo. how could a person this beautiful be so vile?

if only you could save your mother from his poisonous claws.

"you know, your mother told me a few things about you."

"... what did she say?"

his sapphire blue eyes flicked up to stare into your eyes, and time came to a standstill when he smiled. he smiled like an angel but loved like the devil. if the devil could even love. you didn't want to admit that every time you looked into his eyes, your breath halted like the world around you. it went against your deep-rooted hate for him, but you'd be damned if you didn't crumble like ash when he set you on fire with his mere gaze.

satoru explained how your mother gushed and ranted on about how hard-working you were, how you were kind and caring, and how you needed a partner who would support you when times got difficult. he teased you about baby pictures of you, and you questioned whether this really was the same scrawny guy you saved from a bunch of bullies.

back then, he looked completely different from how he did right now. he wasn't some hot jock with a body that girls fan-girled over, no. he was a tall and scrawny kid with broken glasses, a busted lip, and bruises that told you he was clearly being bullied by his peers.

that fateful summer day, you were just taking a stroll through the neighborhood when he came tumbling towards you with four kids you knew all too well. ordering satoru to get behind you, you had beaten the crap out of everyone of those guys and patched him up at your home before walking him all the way back to his house.

he had vowed to meet you again, and well, he had done it.

that kid was so much more different than the guy you knew now, and you would be lying if you said you didn't feel a little solemn about it. he had changed for the worse. you should've know that when he made another appearance in your life. those four guys had disappeared.

satoru just followed you around like a bubbly guy trying to rope a grumpy and moody girl into a friendship, but you could do nothing but regret it now. he tailed you around to get evidence of you and your illegal “activities”. to threaten you.

you wished you never even saved him from those bullies that day. the thing was that you got into tussle with the police quite a lot. you got into fights a lot and had landed up in jail for the fifth time before getting released on probation. the deal was three strikes and you would land up in the slammer permanently. you were two strikes in when satoru got a video of you in a fight...

he used it to threaten you.

that was three months into school, and he had wound up with you in an abandoned warehouse near the place holding a party where the two of you were. he proposed his deal leading to you nearly going ballistic, but those three digits dialing the police were enough to make you settle down.

satoru's deal was simple. if you became his girlfriend, then he wouldn't show the video to the police.

typical rich kid shit.

of course, he would use any means to get what he wanted. you were no exception.

reluctantly so, you accepted, and the seven month of agony begun. the smothering touches, the constant need to be near you, the controlling and obsessive behavior, the tracker in your phone? he was batshit insane!

you were a very patient person, though. rumors and history stated that most of his girlfriends lasted a maximum of a month before he got bored, so you waited. you waited, waited, waited, and waited! that was your fatal mistake.

how stupid of you.

one evening before prom changed it all.

the cool autumn breeze of the california evening blew at your loose strands of hair, the large palm trees casted shadows that fell down the lukewarm sand of the beach as clear and sparkly waves running along the orange and pink horizon crashed upon the shores, singing a faint tale of time.

"marry me."

staring at that blue diamond encased in a gold ring decorated with silver, you couldn't have helped but feel like chains had begun to wrap around you like boa snakes... slowly beginning to squeeze the life out of you.

satoru's eyes were bright and glowing like the colors of the diamond, and they looked up at you sinisterly with that grin that seemed to make the entire world fall apart around you.

"we'll go to the courthouse tomorrow. who gives a damn about the elders?" his voice was pleading, but there it was. that tone. he spoke like he was stating. not pleading. "we'll have an american wedding."

and an american funeral.

for when he put the ring on your finger, you died.

...

the sun set, and you looked at the snake wrapped around your ring finger. it glimmered under the dim light of the bedroom like the glowing eyes of a predator staring from the shadows. 'you two were so in love with each other that it had driven the both of you insane!' satoru had claimed, but maybe...

maybe it was just you who had gone insane.

#yandere gojo #yandere jjk #yandere gojo satoru #male yandere #yandere #female reader #oneshot #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #marriage #fem reader #gojo scenario

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annwrites · 3 months

Text

how the hell are we going to get through this, baby?

— pairing: gale cleven x wife!reader x john egan

— type: one-shot (for the moment being, at least)

— summary: you, gale, & john are in a polygamous marriage & you share one last dance with them before they're shipped off to war.

— word count: 2,251

John takes a sip of his beer, then looks at you, or, rather, the back of your head. Your beautiful head of hair, soft and loose. He dreads the idea of tonight being the last time he'll ever touch it—you. His girl, his sweetheart, his wife, his goddamn everything since you were five-years-old, and he and Gale six.

He smiles when you throw your head back, laughing at whatever joke your friend, Marie, has just told you.

"How the hell are we supposed to leave her here all alone like this?" John asks.

Gale turns his head in your direction, leaning back against the bar, forearms braced on either side of him. "We don't have another choice."

John shakes his head. "She's going to fall apart when we leave. She won't be able to properly look after herself once we—"

Gale interrupts him, his head turning in his direction. "She's not some China doll, John."

"She's fragile. And too damn gentle. Since we were kids, there's barely been a day where she's had to live without us. The hell do you think she'll do if one of us—or even worse, both of us—come home to her in a casket?"

A muscle in Gale's jaw feathers, and he takes another drink of his beer. "It's why I married her, John. To make sure she got my pension incase—"

"Some monthly check isn't going to fucking hold her at night, or—"

Gale turns himself back around, not wanting the entire room to witness the argument that's about to erupt between the two of them.

One last good night, that's all he'd asked for. And yet, John's stubborn ass can never be bothered to just go along with things.

"What the hell would you have me do, Bucky?"

John turns back around to the bar as well, resting his forearms atop it. "We should've never enlisted."

Gale's long fuse suddenly grows a great deal shorter then. "It's not like it was some spur-of-the-moment decision. We talked about it, all three of us. We decided it was the right thing to do. She gave us her blessing."

John lets out a chuckle with no humor behind it. "Because you think she'd ever tell you no?"

Gale leans in toward him then. "The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Everything she does is in hopes of pleasing you. And you have her wrapped right around your finger, don't you? That's why it's your ring that she's wearing." His tone has turned resentful.

"She's wearing yours, too. I'm sorry that polygamy isn't legal in the US. Why are you making everything my fault?"

He wasn't going to admit it out loud, but it hurt. His best friend, a man he shared a home, a life, a marriage, and a woman with treating him so lowly. And on their last night here—at home—at that. You were one half of him, John the other. But this disdain—believing you have a favorite between the two of them—wasn't a new development.

Finally, John sighs, softening. "I'm sorry. I'm just scared shitless. For both of us... For her."

They're both quiet for a moment, then John speaks again. "We should've tried to get her pregnant, and not stopped until she was."

Gale lets out a low swear. "You think that'd really help her? We get her pregnant so she can go through nine months of maternity all alone, neither of us there to hold her hand, or take care of her. And what if something happened? What if she miscarried, or—"

"Jesus Christ, why do you have to jump to the worst possible conclusion? She's too damn maternal not to be a mother, Gale."

"I'm not saying she isn't. But now isn't the right time. If you think losing one of us would tear her apart, losing a baby—our baby—would kill her."

John goes silent then. Before he glances back to you. "I just wanted to leave her with something. Some part of us to get her through this so she wouldn't be all alone."

Gale places his hand firmly on his best friend's shoulder. "She won't be alone. She has our folks."

He briefly wonders if this is really about leaving you with some part of them, or John leaving a piece of himself in the world if he doesn't live through this war.

He doesn't dare ask.

Finally, John stands, draining the last drops of his beer before walking over to his new bride.

Their bride.

You and Marie both look up at him as he comes to stand in front of you. "What's a guy got to do to get a pretty girl to dance with him around here, huh?"

You beam at him and it makes his heart jump.

"You just have to ask."

He pretends to balk. "That's it?"

You continue looking up at him, cheeks flushed, doe-eyes full of love and adoration.

He bends forward then, toward you, as he extends his right hand. "Well, then, miss, would you do the honor of giving this soldier one last dance?"

Marie sits by, watching with idle curiosity at your exchange.

You place your delicate hand in his own—your right one, which wears his ring—before standing.

John leads you over, into the middle of the room and spins you out before pulling you in close to him, until your chests are touching.

He places his right hand firmly against the small of your back as your left comes to rest upon his shoulder. He holds your other at chest-level as you begin to dance.

John presses his right cheek against your hair, closing his eyes for a moment. "How the hell are we going to get through this, baby?"

Tears sting your eyes, but you force it down. You won't cry. Not tonight. Not here, at least. You want this evening to be perfect.

You pull back far enough to look him in the eyes, running your fingers through his hair. "I wish I knew the answer."

You glance behind him, at Gale, who's watching you both with a small smile on his face.

You then continue. "This—all of it—both of you going off to war, having no idea how long that will be, what it will be like, all of us being apart for more than a couple of days for the first time in well over a decade... Not knowing...not knowing what the future holds..."

You trail off and have to take a moment to calm yourself before you turn into a shaking, sobbing mess.

John simply presses a firm kiss to your forehead, allowing you a moment to breathe.

Your eyes meet again and he picks up where you left off, looking down at you, his eyes full of surety. "We're going to get through this, sweetheart. We're going to get through this war, come back home to you, and then our lives together truly begin."

You desperately wish you had his optimism. In truth, you hope desperately that he's right, but more and more lately, you were doing your utmost to make yourself understand that their mutual survival...it may not come to pass. And that thought makes you feel sick.

If you lost both of them, you wouldn't bother trying to go on another day. They'd both made you swear and swear that you wouldn't even consider such a thing. And you had lied magnificently. Told each of them exactly what they wanted to hear. But you knew the truth of it in your heart.

John has his lips pressed to yours, kissing you long and deep, when a relaxed baritone voice interrupts you.

"Mind if I cut in?"

John finishes your kiss slowly, gently, before looking at Gale, who stands but a few inches from the two of you, hands in his pockets, looking at the two of you with so much love and warmth.

John chuckles, eye sparkling. "Trying to steal my girl, Cleven?"

Gale shrugs, a sly grin coming across his face. "Every chance I get, Egan."

John presses one last quick kiss to your hair, before stepping aside, whispering something into Gale's ear, which causes him to laugh out loud, then head back up to the bar.

Once Gale has taken John's place, you look up to him, an amused look on your face. "What was that about?"

Gale shakes his head, looking back at the man in question, a toothy grin on his face. "Nothin', darlin'."

He looks down at you, then.

"Was it about me?" You ask with a raised brow.

He chuckles. "Wouldn't you like to know."

You 'accidentally' step on one of his feet, causing him only to smirk down at you.

You bat your eyes at him. "Oops."

He gives a small nod of his head. "Starting to think that John's pickin' on you for all those years when we were kids is starting to rub off."

You grin, shaking your head.

He then leans in toward you to claim a kiss.

You try to sear the feeling of his lips against your into your memory. How slowly and passionately he kisses you, the taste of him, how he flicks the tip of his tongue against your lips, asking for entry, which you quickly give him.

When he pulls away, your cheeks are flushed and lips swollen. You lie your cheek against his chest and he rests his chin atop your head.

You still when you notice two officers at the front of the room, looking at the two of you, chatting with each other, shocked and confused looks on their faces.

You look up at Gale and he reaches down, brushing a loose strand from your face.

"Those men are staring at us."

He shrugs, not even bothering with asking 'whom', before he replies "let 'em watch".

"You might be serving alongside them."

He gives you another kiss. "And?"

You sigh. "You know your fellow soldiers are going to talk about their girls, then ask about yours. About John's. What're you going to tell them?"

He's looking at you with mild amusement, like you should somehow already know the answer. "The truth, I guess."

You're surprised by his answer.

The two of them seemed to stop caring a long time ago about what others do, or even might think about them. You still find it difficult to at times. You want to reach the same level of surety about your marriage—it still feels so strange to even think about it as that now—that they both have.

"Oh."

He cups your cheek in his palm. "The only two people whose opinions I care about are yours and John's. Nobody else gets to have one, not when it comes to us." He brushes the pad of his thumb along your lower lip. "Alright?"

You nod.

He kisses you once more before you lie your head back against his chest, this time facing in John's direction.

"Promise me you'll both take care of each other. That you won't let any stupid fights or squabbles get between you."

He replies almost instantly. "With our lives, honey. You know that. Won't be time for fighting each other when we'll have enemies on all sides that we'll be doing that with."

You nod. "Are you scared?"

He's silent for a moment, and that silence alone gives you your answer.

"Think I'd be stupid not to be. I know a lot of these boys are hoping to go off to Europe and become heroes, not wanting to acknowledge that they may not make it back in one piece, if at all. I'm just trying to keep my head out of the clouds and my expectations reasonable."

He begins rubbing one of his palms soothingly against your back.

"And John?"

"We haven't spoken much about it."

Because they're both scared, you think. They both put up such brave faces in front of you—for you—but you can read each of them like the back of your hand.

You suddenly feel a second body pressing itself against your back, strong arms wrapping around you, and your eyes flutter closed as you smile softly, happily, as the two of them hold you between them.

You will this night to last—both your husbands holding you, loving you, making you feel utterly safe and secure—because the thought of coming back home to an empty house tomorrow once they've both gone...

You squeeze your eyes more tightly shut, fighting back tears.

You're grateful they'll have each other, but who will you have to lean on? Who will hold you when you wake up in a cold sweat, crying and trembling as you fear the worst? Who will reassure you, as you sit on the front porch, or by the window, waiting for the post—for any word from them—that everything is okay? That they are?

What will you have left if, when they return home, it's with flags draped over coffins?

"I love you," John whispers, breaking you from fearful thoughts of the absolute worst.

Gale leans down, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "We both do."

You don't see as their eyes meet, John's jaw flexing as he attempts to conserve his tears for when you won't be witness to them and Gale giving him a reassuring nod, telling him that it's okay to feel whatever he's feeling.

"I love you, too. Both of you. Just...come back to me."

"We will," they both reply in unison.

You all three pray for it to be true.

#fic: mota (gale cleven x reader x john egan)#mota x reader #mota x you #mota x y/n #mota fic #john egan x oc #john egan x reader #bucky egan x reader #gale cleven x reader #gale cleven x you #gale cleven x y/n #mota imagine

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1d1195 · 2 months

Text

Most II

Read Most here | ~8.6k words (whoops)

From me: So I was worried I wasn't going to have enough for this part. Especially from our MC's POV. I started with Harry first and then I wrote her POV and I think this got a little out of hand as I always manage to do--but hopefully you'll see what I was aiming for.

Warnings: angsty af, some fluff too; my hope is you'll cry when you least expect it

Summary: Leaving nearly killed her; but if Harry was happy, it would be worth it. Harry thought he would never get out of bed ever again after she left. But he did. He's really glad he did, too.

*Three years later*

“Thank you, Harry!”

“You’re welcome, Mrs. Peterson. Same time next week?” He winked. The woman was older, in her sixties, she smiled politely at Harry and waved from her doorway. It seemed Mrs. Peterson constantly had issues with her alarms and being that she was older and away from family, Harry was happy to help her.

It helped that he lived next door to her as well. A tiny little house, two bedrooms, one bathroom. But it had a nice yard and Harry thought that maybe in the future there would be a flower garden and maybe one day there would be two kids who would find a bird’s nest among the flowers. But more than likely if they had two kids they would need a bigger house, a new yard, with a different garden.

The first year was the worst.

It felt like she died. The grief was so overwhelming it was hard for him to get out of bed. His mum even said things like, “Harry, she wouldn’t want this,” and “honey bunny, you have to keep living,” and Harry was mean about it. He was grumpy, sour. He told his mum it wasn’t living if she wasn’t around. He was sure he sounded like a lovelorn teen who knew nothing about love and life, but he did. Because she was the love of his life; and she was gone.

Gemma was better at getting him out of bed. Mostly because she physically dragged him out, but he was up and out all the same. She took him to get lunch and made sure he attended his classes. She watched him mope and live this half existence. Gemma wanted to hate her. She really did. But she couldn’t. As connected as she and Harry were, it felt like Gemma had a connection with her as well—maybe it was only by proxy of her brother, but she felt it.

“I think she’ll be back,” Gemma had taken Harry to the park for fresh air. They watched people run through, dogs chase after squirrels, and kids swinging at the playground. Life kept moving even if Harry felt like he was at a standstill.

“Gem,” he sighed. His eyes were tired, devoid of tears any longer. “I don’t want...”

“What? To hope?” He didn’t answer her, kicked at the rock near the bench they were sitting on. “I’m not saying you have to get back out there or anything,” she rolled her eyes. Harry snorted. The thought was laughable. There was no one else for him, he was certain. “But some hope would be good,” she suggested.

“Why d’you have hope?” He grumbled not looking at his sister.

“Because I want to hate her guts,” Gemma said knowingly. “I want to claw her eyes out for making my baby brother cry and tear her hair out of her head.”

“Gem,” he grimaced. Even hearing her talk about injuring her made him nauseous.

“Yeah, exactly. The thought of it makes me sick too,” she turned to face Harry on the bench. “She broke you and your sweet heart, Harry,” she reminded him. He turned away from her, afraid he would cry. “Because she thought it was for the best and I believe she would never do anything to intentionally hurt you. I think she really believed this was for the best. Have you ever seen her do anything she didn’t believe in?” Gemma reminded him.

He hadn’t. Harry, for a brief period of time, really wanted to run a marathon and she helped him schedule and train as if he was going to win a marathon. She hated running but she was up at six in the morning, waiting with a tired, beautiful smile. “Ready?” She yawned. He smirked at the memory. Mostly because when he told her the marathon dream was over, she punched him in the arm for making her like running and getting out of bed so early.

“No,” he sighed, shook his head. Harry let the pause consume the two of them for a few moments. The sound of laughter from the swing set and chatter from the owners to their dogs was warm. Like Harry was there all the time and it was comforting. “I miss her,” he whispered. “I miss her for everything for a lot of reasons... but maybe mostly as m’best friend.”

Gemma smiled sadly, wrapped her arm around his shoulders, and nodded. Harry was her little baby brother, but he was a head taller than her, and he had to squish down to rest his head on hers. “I miss her too,” she sighed. “But don’t worry...” Gemma agreed. “She’s gonna be back,” she assured him. “I can feel it.”

So, the first year was without hope. Harry focused on EMS classes, the classes for his psychology degree, and applying to be a volunteer firefighter so that he could get some of what he wanted whether she was there or not.

The second year, he helped with fire safety and the local primary school. He told little boys and girls how to make safety plans and encouraged them to chat with their parents so they could be safe in the case of a fire.

“Have you ever fought a fire?” A little girl asked him.

He chuckled. “No, but m’friend and I made a campfire and it spread a little more on the yard than we’d like,” he explained with a smile. “Had t’put it out ourselves.”

“Weren’t you scared?” She whispered.

Harry thought about the two of them in his backyard, waiting to roast marshmallows and thinking they could do it without his mum around. They were pretty successful, but a gust of wind threw them for a loop. She was ready to call the fire department. Fortunately, Harry was prepared and had a bucket of water to stop the spread of the flames from licking all the grass away.

“Aw, my hero,” she cooed sweetly, and Harry smiled, feeling happy. He was only eleven or so at the time, but he loved the thought of being her hero. It was worth the grounding and worth the yard work to fix it after. All for that cute girl he already adored in his tween years so very much.

“No,” he shook his head, smiling as he answered the little girl. “No, I wasn’t scared. S’important t’remain calm,” he explained.

“But what if my stuffy gets stuck inside?” She looked at Harry, wide-eyed with horror. It was nearly identical to the same horror the sweet girl had when the backyard was close to burning.

“I bet your mum and dad would have a plan, love. M’sure they’ll be able t’tell you what y’need t’do t’get you and your stuffy out,” he winked at her.

She nodded knowingly. “My little brother too?”

“Oh, yeah,” he nodded firmly. “Little brothers gotta get out too.”

It was like the little girl could predict the future because year three was the year of Harry finishing his degree (early—since he had nothing better to do than study and study some more). He was a staple at the fire station. Helping the town the way he always dreamed of helping.

And fighting real fires.

One of the major restaurants in town had a greasy fire that had him and his department racing to put out the flames before the building next door followed the same fate. Even though he didn’t do a whole lot other than hold the hose (it was a pretty relaxed fire, all things considered) he felt a swell of pride, pure happiness in his chest.

When he was at the local primary school again for a fire drill that same sweet little girl made her way to him, told him all about her plan and how Mummy and Daddy said they would save her stuffies if they could, but they weren’t nearly as important as her. He grinned. “I told you they’d have a plan,” he gave her a fist bump.

“This is my friend, he’s going to be a fireman too,” she pointed to the little boy beside her. He looked a little shy. But he smiled politely.

“S’cool, lad,” he gave him a fist bump as well. “Can’t wait t’have you on the team,” he winked. “Y’gonna train and take care of our little town here?”

He nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“He’s going to marry me,” the little girl said. It was casual. Like breathing. There wasn’t any fanfare about it, it wasn’t hope. It was pure fact. She sounded certain she was going to marry her little friend. “And he has a plan for all my stuffies too.”

Now Harry felt a pang of jealousy. Or nostalgia. Perhaps it was a combination of both. How on earth could a twenty-two-year-old man be jealous of a nine-year-old?

But nine was the year she was a pirate for Halloween. At the time, Harry thought his best friend was so pretty and he wasn’t supposed to think girls were pretty, but she was. Even though Harry didn’t know why he thought she was pretty, suddenly, he wanted her to be in his life. So that he could soak in all her beauty and make her happy as long as he possibly could. He cleared his throat. “S’good, love,” he agreed kindly and as silly as it was, he walked away from the little ones because if he stayed a moment longer, he would break down crying jealous of the little love that he used to have that bloomed into something so much more and then disappeared.

That first year was truly the worst.

Mitch had Mondays, Niall on Wednesdays. Louis took mornings, since he and Harry jogged together around town. Sarah took weekends, making sure he went to the coffee shop that played quiet music while college students studied just near the university. Eleanor was constantly on call and that usually meant she talked him through the loneliness when he got home from his classes or work—he chatted about his day and told her what he was going to have for dinner.

Anne was compassionate. Always. “Honey, don’t you think—”

“Mum,” he sighed, he didn’t want to hear the end of the sentence. He already knew what it was going to be anyway.

“Couldn’t we look for her?” Anne asked. He shook his head.

“She...left,” it felt like acid in his mouth to say it. But maybe if he had followed after her that first week things would have been different. But he didn’t. So, she was gone and if she wanted to be gone, then what was Harry supposed to do but listen to her? At the heart of it all, he wanted her to be happy. Even if it made him miserable and sad.

But maybe Gemma was right—of course he hoped she was right.

“She’ll come back,” he mumbled. It was still hard for him to say. Even harder for him to believe.

But he did. It took two of the three years she had been gone for him to feel that way, but he believed it. Believed that she would come back because she was his soulmate.

Even though he didn’t believe in those.

“Harry,” Anne sighed. “Don’t you think—”

“Mum, m’jus...something happened,” he sighed. “I don’t know why but...something scared her away. M’not gonna make her run further by looking for her. Begging is only going t’make it worse,” he had given the spiel a thousand times over. “You can’t hate her, Mum.”

“Honey, I love that girl almost as much as you do,” she assured him with a grin. “I just don’t want you to stop living because of her.”

He knew she was right. All of them were right. So, he went to class. He went to work. He saved money to buy his house (and got some help from his kind mum too). He did so many overtime shifts, his coworkers thought he was being a suck up. His mum and Gemma worried about him. His friends worried about him. Harry tried out a plethora of ridiculous hobbies to keep him entertained enough and “lived” even though he didn’t want to.

Because living without her didn’t really feel like living.

But that part of Gemma that felt she would be back made him hope, in the deepest parts of his heart. Made him want to live even when he didn’t think he could because if she came back, he did think she might be mad he tried to stop living.

So, he lived.

Harry got home from his overnight shift at seven in the morning. He was tired. Didn’t sleep well the day before so it felt like he was going to fall asleep the moment he closed his front door—he wasn’t going to make it to the couch.

“Harry?!”

It was the exhaustion playing with his mind. He wanted to just go inside, not fiddle with Mrs. Peterson’s smoke alarms or make small talk. “Hey, Mrs. Peterson, good morning,” he answered, making his way across the yard to hers. “Everything alright?”

“I’m so sorry to bother you, Harry,” she started.

Harry felt guilty for not wanting to help the older woman. Regardless of how tired he felt. “No bother, Mrs. Peterson, really.”

“I think this house is cursed! Remember when the water heater exploded?!”

Harry smiled politely but wanted nothing more than to just go to bed. But Harry pressed anyway. He knew she was lonely. Harry knew loneliness like nobody else. “I do; what is it this time?”

“The sink is backed up—I think something’s clogged in it. I’m so sorry to bug you. I know you just got home—"

“It’s fine Mrs. Peterson. I’ll take a look,” he made his way through her home to the kitchen. Harry knew where everything was because he had done so much maintenance for her over the last year. Harry glanced at the sink for just a minute and then headed to her supply closet to get a bucket and the tools he had set in there for the very likes of this situation.

Once he had his materials, he laid back on the floor and crawled below the cabinet to get a look at the pipe curving out from the sink. All he wanted was to go home and fall asleep. But every once in a while, his thoughts kicked into overdrive—perhaps it was tiredness wreaking havoc on his brain.

Out of nowhere, this wasn’t Mrs. Peterson’s house.

It was the house he was supposed to be sharing with the love of his life. She would be hovering over him, making a joke about plumbing and pipes that would bring a blush to his face. Something he never expected the sweet girl to say but was enamored with her comedic timing. He would fix the issue and hear her say “my hero,” again. She would kiss him and probably convince him (although he needed very little convincing when it came to her and any desire she had) to have sex with her on the kitchen counter.

It took a minute for Harry to notice the water stopped leaking into the bucket. Carefully, he stuck a screwdriver into the pipes to make sure everything was clear and ready to be put back. “Alright, then,” he cleared his throat and slid back from the cabinet and stood to test the sink.

“You know Harry,” Mrs. Peterson began. “A handsome, kind, intelligent young man like you,” Harry was back below the sink putting the pipe back together. “I have a granddaughter your age. She’s very smart. She wants to be an engineer and she’s going to work—”

Harry smiled kindly. “Thank you, Mrs. Peterson,” it wasn’t the first time she had brought it up. “But, y’know m’happily taken.”

The first year was the worst.

Fortunately, her mom didn’t put up too much of a fight when she went home and said she wanted to move away. The car accident she was in really did a number on her and her mind. In turn, it messed with her daughter as well.

Mom said she planned on moving when she went off to college anyway. In a moment of clarity, a good day she was having, she explained she wanted to be closer to her sister so that she could let her live her young life the way she was supposed to and not have to worry about her addled mind. At the time, she was devastated. The thought of not having a house near Harry seemed horrifying. Grounds for a tantrum she never threw when she was young. She was going to drag her feet and keep hold onto Harry like she was being told she had to leave a theme park.

At the time, Harry wiped her tears away, kissed her gently on the forehead and assured her she could live with him until they got a house of their own.

She never thought she would willingly ask her mom to leave their lovely town.

Fortunately, the day she asked to leave her eyes were bloodshot, but her moms were clear. “Are you sure, sweetie?” She combed her hair back and kissed her forehead the same way Harry had in the exact opposite reaction. “What happened?”

She inhaled sharply, shook her head, and turned away. “No,” she sniveled. “No.”

So, for a few moments, her mom was her mom. The one that was kind and lovely. The one who’s mind was fully intact and didn’t get angry for no reason. “Oh sweetie,” she frowned and held her while she cried.

When they arrived at her new place, a small little house her mom was renting just a few miles away from her aunt, they reminisced about the photos and trinkets she grew up with. They laughed and she felt like she was at home even though it was the furthest from home she ever could have imagined.

“You know, when I’m mad, it’s not about you, my love. You are the best thing that has ever happened to me,” her mom told her. “I’m sorry I’m not the mom you used to have.”

Her dad had ducked his responsibilities shortly before her mom’s water broke so it had always been the two of them. For a very long time, it was perfect. Her childhood was perfect. The best mom who never made her feel like she couldn’t do something.

Then, post-accident, it felt like just one and a half of them.

Sometimes, she didn’t know who the half was.

But one thing she could count on was that Harry would make her whole.

“I’m worried that I won’t live my life because of her,” she whispered to Harry. They were laying under the stars in his backyard. It was before they were together; but if you asked her, there was never a time they weren’t together. Being boyfriend and girlfriend in school was a label for everyone else, not for them. “It makes me feel selfish,” her voice creaked.

“You are the least selfish person I know, kitten,” Harry reached out and grabbed her hand. Squeezed it. “Your mum is still your mum,” he promised. “She doesn’t want you t’take care of her. S’not your job. You have t’live your life for her.”

Harry was a year older than her, but it often felt like he was ages older. He was wise beyond reason, and she was so grateful he was in her life. Not just because he was easy to look at and she adored him so unbelievably much, but because he was right. He was there. And he always made her feel better.

She was turned on her side, so she could properly stare at him. The car accident was years ago at that point, and it still felt fresh. Part of her lost a chunk of her mom that day and sometimes the aftermath was more painful than the day her aunt came to get her at school and bring her to the hospital. She and Harry usually walked home from school and the poor thing nearly had a panic attack not knowing where she was.

How no one, including themselves, figured out they were meant for one another long before they were together, seemed crazy to look back on.

When she realized her mom was different, Harry was there to balance the craziness. He helped her cope and assured her that everything would work itself out. He helped her through the screaming matches that ensued and all the frustration she felt from not being the same mom she once had. Things would be okay—he would make sure of it.

It was ridiculous that two teenagers could think in absolutes like that. But she believed him so completely; neither of them had money—well, no more than their retail jobs offered. Harry couldn’t support her anymore than she could support him. But given the chance she was certain he would. And she wanted nothing more than to be there for Harry the way he was for her.

But without Harry, she felt numb. Trivial stuff didn’t matter anymore: a broken dish, mom yelling at her, a car repair, or a cut on her finger from slicing veggies for dinner. Waitressing mishaps and stressing for finals felt completely different without Harry by her side.

Her mom forgot a lot of stuff. Where she put bills, where she left her glasses, or how to get to the grocery store. But she never forgot Harry.

“How’s Harry?” She asked.

“Good,” it was easier on her heart and her mom to just say he was fine. It wasn’t worth reliving the experience over and over. It killed her that she didn’t forget. Hearing his name made her stomach flutter. But they were closer to her aunt now. So she was able to help with the things her mom was forgetting more frequently and the chronic pain and anger that she suffered from due to the accident. It was why she was able to live in apartment with a friend from school.

How she was able to make a friend at all was a miracle.

Addie was a history major and but took so many dance classes she could have double-majored in it. She was graceful and beautiful. She was loud and fun—always knew people who threw the best parties and always managed to find a guy to help move their stuff in and out of their dorm and apartments.

Part of her wondered why Addie even liked being friends with her. She wasn’t anything like Addie: bright, vivacious, life-loving. All she did was go to class, go to work, and mourn the loss of the love of her life even though it was her own fault.

After some coaxing and friendship building (and a thunderstorm mid semester that took out the power in the middle of the night and simultaneously woke the pair of them) she told Addie all about her past life. “Sweetie,” Addie shook her head and spoke into the dark room as if she could see her. It felt like she was yanking directly on her heart. “You could have him again,” she promised. “There’s no way he’s not waiting for you.”

“But Addie... he deserves more.”

“Well, he probably doesn’t want more.”

“Addie,” she shook her head. “I’m not...”

“Not what? Everything you just said made it sound like you’re his soulmate.”

She felt like her vocal cords had been pinched together. She was glad the darkness hid the tears. “Harry didn’t believe in those,” she whispered.

“Well, respectfully, sweetie…he’s as dumb as you are, then.”

She laughed. It started quietly and built and built. Her giggle into unfiltered pure joy. It had been months since she laughed like that. It was warm and made Addie laugh alongside her. She didn’t know how much she missed laughing. It didn’t make it better because God, did she miss Harry and her old life, her old friends, and everything about that wonderful, beautiful town. But it made her think that maybe, if she could laugh, Harry would too. That’s what she wanted, right? At the end of the day, it was why she left. Give Harry the chance to have more when she felt like less.

Addie took a writing class with her in their second semester. An intro class—but it was one of those ones that was ridiculously hard for no reason at all. Luckily, she enjoyed writing, but if someone took this class as a hopeful, easy elective, they were in for a rude awakening.

Their professor had just finished reading one of the assignments from the previous week. It was riveting, a short story about a girl who felt this undeniable pull to jump off a bridge in the town she lived in. It wasn’t a tragic kind of jump. It was like a reset, something hard to explain. That there were a lot of things she felt it would help—if she just jumped once, it—no everything—would be okay. She described the bridge, the rocks, the water with so much rich vocabulary, it was like everyone in the class was there at the bridge. The protagonist hated heights though, and jumping was dangerous even if it wasn’t tragic. The back and forth of pros and cons as to why she should jump, why she shouldn’t. The humor, the warmth, the nostalgia hit the entire class like a tsunami.

The final paragraph read about the girl going to the bridge. She had just decided, finally she was going to jump. She set her belongings down and climbed the railing. She was alone and brave. No one was going to stop her, and she felt so good. She wasn’t going to stop herself. She breathed in the salty air, didn’t look down, and listened to the sound of waves crashing over the rocky shore. It was peaceful. No cars around, no people. Just her and the water. It was exciting, Addie felt for the character wanting the reset more than she wanted to breathe. It was going to work; she was going to feel better. Addie was proud of her for wanting to do it and getting what she wanted.

A reset. To fix everything. Their professor read.

Then, she climbed off the railing, picked up her stuff, and went home.

How was anyone supposed to remain in this writing class if that was what they were competing with?

“I hope she publishes that,” Addie whispered.

Their professor wrote the assignment on the board. Another short reading and then questions to go over it. The room was silent while people read, and then quiet chatter started as they worked in pairs on the assignment. At the same time, their professor shuffled the previous writing assignments and returned them to their authors.

The paper titled Jump slid onto the desk beside Addie. She stared at her friend like she was possessed. “Are you kidding?”

She quietly tucked the paper below her new assignment sheet and shrugged, cheeks blushing at the notion. Addie was in awe and unnerved that she didn’t seem to care. Over the next several classes, she kept an eye on her friend so she wouldn’t miss any more brilliance. She wrote answers to questions her professor asked in her notebook. “Why don’t you answer?” Addie whispered.

“Shh,” she hushed.

“Are you a genius? Like a prodigy or something?”

“Shut up,” she hissed, worried her professor would say something about their rude and ridiculous whispering to them.

After class, they headed back to their dorm for a nap. It was like they were toddlers, but they didn’t care. “So, Prodigy—”

“Addie,” she laughed. “Stop.”

“What’s your plan? A book?”

There was a small pause. Reflective almost. Then she nodded. “Yes.”

They were quiet. Addie waited for her to elaborate but it never came. “Sweetie, you’re brilliant.”

“Thank you,” she said sincerely, still not elaborating. That was the first time she felt like her old self in her writing. It was the first piece of something that was sentimental and her that she had written since she left. It had been 231 days since she saw Harry. Last week when they had been assigned the homework to write something like Jump, she finally felt like it was worth writing.

“Hey,” Addie stopped her, a hand on her arm as they approached their dorm. “Can we just...take a second? You wrote something so brilliant and beautiful. Maybe you and Harry were used to that kind of brilliance, but I’m only just learning about it,” Addie said Harry’s name so casually. Like she had known him just as long as she had. Harry would love Addie, she was sure. “You should enter that in a contest,” she told her. She snorted and shook her head. “I’m serious! It should be published. You hooked me in, and it was what, five thousand words?”

She nodded; shrugged nonchalantly. “More like four thousand, actually.”

Well, it felt like ten thousand to Addie and she still loved it. “Why did you write it?” Addie asked. Biting the inside of her lip she shrugged again. But she knew. They both knew. “Sweetie, you can go back to him. You can jump,” she said reassuringly. Tears filled her eyes and she looked away. “Harry would under—”

“I know,” she croaked. “I know,” she sniffled. The chill in the air wasn’t helping. Harry’s birthday was only a few days ago and it was the first one in years where she didn’t send him a message at midnight. She had been the first one to wish him a happy birthday for the last ten years—since she was old enough to text him. But Addie was right. Harry would understand. It was ridiculous that he would. He would forgive her instantly. But it was barely half a year. It was too soon...it wasn’t enough time to let him... breathe without her.

Even if it felt like she was suffocating without him.

“Aw, babe,” Addie sighed and wrapped her arm around her friend’s shoulder. It took her a second to notice she was crying, sniveling more than was necessary as she remembered his birthday wishes. “I’m sorry,” she said and ushered her the rest of the way into their dorm. “We can talk about it another time.”

She sniveled and wiped her eyes. “S’okay. Thank you for being so nice, Addie,” she said truthfully. A different friend might have told her to quit crying and it was her own choice. But Addie was different. Because as brilliant as she was, Addie had a knack for this kind of emotion, this kind of understanding that someone as graceful as her could only understand.

“Of course,” she held the door open for the lobby. “That’s what best friends are for.”

She worked a lot from the moment she set foot on campus. She waitressed at a restaurant that was flooded with locals and plenty of college students. For years the only one that flirted with her was Harry. She was surprised when guys asked her out while she was working. It was a little uncomfortable at first. “I’m actually—”

“Of course she’s taken,” one of the guys at her table said to his friend.

And honestly, she hadn’t thought of that. Fortunately, she still felt taken. Very much so. She wasn’t sure she would ever be able to move on from Harry. “You are?” he asked with a frown.

“Happily,” she sighed softly. Because it was true—partly. She was smitten; completely taken by and with Harry. Whether he was physically around her or not. There wouldn’t be anyone else. Couldn’t be.

It didn’t stop the flirtations, but it made it easier to take them on because she could say her heart was taken. Happily, taken.

So, the first year was the worst. Figuring out how to live without her best friend and so she focused on school. She focused on work. But Harry invaded her every thought. In fact, she started writing down things that happened to her. Like a list because maybe, in the depths of her subconscious, she wanted to go back. That’s what Jump was about. She had to go back. Even if it was to see that he had moved on and if he did, that was good. He deserved it.

Harry was in her blood. He was written in her notebooks as if she had it tattooed on her skin.

“Do you want to get an apartment?” Addie asked. “You’re staying the summer, yeah? What was your plan for that?”

She wasn’t sure, honestly. It was April and the semester was coming to close in just a few weeks. She thought she would just sleep in her car or something and shower at the gym. Visit her mom for a bit of time about an hour away. Or maybe even commute from there. But she hadn’t thought about it, because it honestly didn’t matter. She would continue working and moving. Trying her hand at silly hobbies to entertain her mind and keep her from spiraling and being sad all the time.

“Yeah...um...no...no plan. An apartment?” the sale of her mom’s house gave her a pretty penny. It was kind of her mom to give her anything. Well...you know. Her mom shrugged. An unspoken sentence about inheritance and the like.

“Wouldn’t it be nice to have air conditioner that worked when we wanted it to?” Addie sighed dreamily. “Or heat? Like why are these dorms even allowed to run without heat in the middle of a snowstorm?”

The chilly night they spent snuggled in bed beneath every blanket they owned and every sweatshirt they could possibly put on was now a fond memory that made them smile. Although it was anything but fond at the time. “And if the smoke detector goes off, we don’t have to run out necessarily,” Addie continued. “You can feel not guilty about writing into the night in your own room.”

“Are you trying to sell apartment living or are you flirting with me?”

“Whatever gets you to move in. My parents know someone so the rent will be cheap—just have to pay the utilities and a little monthly fee. The only thing is we’d have to move twice. They have this place for the summer but we’d have to go to a different one of their places at the end of August.”

With the tips she was making, plus the tutoring she did at the writing center, it seemed completely doable. But a huge part of her hesitated because she always dreamed her first apartment would be with Harry. He would help her move furniture and let her decorate it however she wanted even though she asked every time if he liked it. What if I want pink walls with yellow polka dots? She asked him. Then I’ll get m’paintbrush. What if I only want blow-up furniture? She wondered. Then I’ll buy an air pump.

“We’ll have to go furniture shopping,” she said instead.

Addie squealed.

She was sitting in the auditorium watching Addie’s dance recital. A guy sat beside her. “Hey,” he said sweetly. “I’m Carter,” he stuck his hand out. She offered her name quietly.

Harry would love Carter. Clearly a bright personality—outgoing and sweet. “I saw you sitting alone and figured I’m alone too. Are you waiting for someone?” He asked. She shook her head. “I think we have a class together,” she didn’t immediately recognize him. Harry would love him. Would love how sweet he was to get ready to just chat and make her feel comfortable without being creepy. Even though she did not want to talk to him. Not because he made her feel weird but because she was grumpy, sullen and sad. “Do you know someone in the show?”

She cleared her throat. “My best friend; my roommate. Addie,” she pointed in the brochure showing a picture of her that she had to submit a week ago and they spent hours going over photos of her.

She watched him look at her picture. For a moment it was like looking in a mirror. She knew what Carter saw because she experienced it every time that she looked at Harry. Unwittingly, she had just shown Carter the first image of his soulmate.

“Oh... oh wow... she’s... she’s like... really pretty,” he swallowed his eyes widening, drinking in her portrait like she was the only thing that mattered. “Sorry,” he shook his head and turned away briefly. When he turned back to continue the conversation, he had a bright smile on his face. But she was already mentally gushing about the way he had fallen for her friend just from a mere headshot in a program. “My sister did dance for years and I’m really far away from home so I thought I would come check it out. I used to complain about all the recitals, but now I miss them. Isn’t that weird, how you take it for granted?”

She didn’t feel like talking. Especially about things that were taken for granted. She had spent most of the day packing up her dorm room and scouring Facebook Marketplace for cheap furniture. She and Addie were going to as many thrift stores and yard sales this weekend as it took to furnish their two-bedroom place. She was tired and overwhelmed.

Maybe I should suggest blow-up furniture.

But Carter clearly wanted to chat, and they still had a few minutes until the show started. Obviously, he liked her friend already, so she needed him to like her because she couldn’t stand to lose another person in her life. Even of her own doing. “Yeah,” she sighed. “It’s like you... you forget all the little things,” she murmured. “Like I remember the big things, like the hugs and the vacation memories, all the popcorn we shared at the movies...” She smiled fondly. “You don’t remember like the way they left the kitchen a mess or shoes by the door covered with snow.”

“Yeah... yeah, exactly,” he smiled sadly. “Do you have a sister?”

“No,” she shook her head. “I... I had some really close friends though. We... I,” she swallowed. Admitting it was all her fault, out loud, was an entirely different thing. “I left them behind... because...” she shrugged. “Y’know.”

Carter watched her curiously for a moment. It was clear he didn't know. “The writing class—we’re in that writing class together,” he recognized.

Then she knew, he sat by the window. His partner incorrectly answered a lot of questions. “Oh, that’s right,” she nodded.

“Do you have any theories on who wrote that Jump thing? My partner in class and I have been trying to figure it out for months. It’s been published you know.”

She did know. She had been paid fifteen hundred dollars for its publication after Addie insisted that she submit it to a magazine two months ago. But she didn’t pay much mind to it. It hurt a lot. She thought about lying though. Maybe even saying it was Addie. She had two siblings at home and Carter was very cute. She would probably fall in love with him without even trying. She couldn’t wait to introduce them after the show. “Yeah, um... I actually... I wrote it.”

His eyebrows rose to the middle of his forehead. “Wow... wow,” he was staring at her like she did jump off the bridge she wrote about. “You know...that makes sense. I’ve never heard you talk, but... now, I’m not surprised... You speak the way you write.”

“How’s that?” She wondered curiously.

“It’s just... gentle, I guess,” he shrugged. “Like I feel like I want to tell you everything; I wanted to tell you everything after our professor read your story and I didn't know you,” he chuckled. “I met you what, three minutes ago? That's not normal.”

She smiled fondly. “I get that a lot.”

Harry told her all the time she was too nice—but not in a bad way. It was more so that she had an open, adorable face and just had the sweetest demeanor. You could talk a man into bed if y’wanted, kitten. He winked. Y’wouldn’t even have t’say anything; he would do all the talking.

Gently, he put his hand on her arm. “I hope you jump,” he said quietly, with a little squeeze as the curtain fell closed, and the lights dimmed. Her heart fluttered. He was meant for Addie.

“Can I introduce you to Addie after the show?” She whispered right as the emcee stood center stage with the microphone ready to get the show started.

“Good evening,” she said. "Our dancers--"

“Yeah?” He smiled so brightly she could see it in the dim light, whispering back to her. “That would be nice, thank you.”

Someone deserved a happily ever after anyway.

They were so destined for a happily ever after.

Carter wouldn’t leave her side. Brought her flowers every week and made sure she always had a jacket that he would carry in case it was cold. When she was studying, he would literally feed her dinner to make sure she had food in her stomach.

Their love was so pure she was jealous. She could only imagine how Harry would have taken care of her on nights she had to stay up all night. He probably would have turned the pages of her books or read to her out loud when her eyes were tired. Hell, he would have written essays for her only for her to rewrite them and correct them just for fun.

Carter helped them move their stuff from their dorm to the apartment, and then to the second apartment. Then when Addie’s parents’ friends asked if they would be willing to move to a different apartment so they could have an elderly couple move into the lower floor place he helped move them again.

“Hey gorgeous. How's my favorite matchmaker,” Carter winked at her as he walked into the apartment. He was a staple. So very much in love with Addie he walked in whenever he wanted and truly, she didn’t care. “Addie’s on her way home, I was going to make her mac and cheese, do you want some?”

God, Harry would love him.

“No thanks, I’ve got a shift in a bit. Just finishing my rough draft.”

“Awesome, well, let me know if I’m making too much noise.”

God, she loved him.

“Do you want... to hear it?” She asked. Harry used to read and listen to her poems and her prose. Her writing was like doodles on the edge of her notebooks but it felt like she was reading Harry a bedtime story. He would beg to hear something, anything. Sometimes she would just reread old stuff when she hadn’t written anything new, but he listened to it in awe like it was the first time he heard it anyway.

“Do you want to share?” He asked. Surprise coated his tone. He pulled the dishes out he was going to use and looked at her over the half wall between the kitchen and living room. “I’m game if you are. I just figured it was private.”

She ignored him and began to read. Recently she had been inspired to write about love that was hidden but love all the same. Something that Carter said back in the auditorium really resonated, made her want to write the way she used to. The way she wrote Jump. She talked about dance recitals that she hated and the way the people left muddy shoes on the floor. She wrote about how sometimes when she least expected it, she thought of the love that resided in the bathroom, a sticky note on the mirror telling her to have a good day. Putting a glass of water on the bedside table because she had a late night. Giggling at a message that was sent two days ago but made her smile as if it was sent a minute ago. How love was green eyes and dimples that always knew what to say even when she was down. She talked about love that was quiet and perfect because love didn’t need to be loud.

It took a moment to notice that it was silent in their apartment. She looked up and realized she couldn’t see Carter because her eyes were filled with tears. “Wow,” he murmured. “You’re uh...” he shook his head. “You’re going to write the world’s greatest love story,” he smiled.

She snorted, laughed, crying still. "Yeah...yeah, no..." she wiped below her eyes unable to say anything else.

Carter walked over to the couch, set her precious notebook on the coffee table that had a heart on the inside cover with someone's name she shouldn't have written any longer. Then she sat beside his favorite matchmaker. He rubbed her back and told her it would all be okay.

She thought about how she hadn’t seen the love of her life in 382 days but she felt it as if she had fallen in love for the first time yesteday.

The first year was the hardest. But at least she could write again.

It made the second and third years pass in the blink of an eye. Aching for a love that was in her notebooks and in her head.

Harry’s coworker was waiting for him outside the coffee shop. His shift was over, but he had plans to finish his latest creation that morning. A caffeine jolt would be just what he needed before he headed home.

“Hey Lauren,” he smiled sweetly.

“Hi Harry,” she answered with a bright smile. Her voice was cheerful, and it reminded Harry of the girl he wanted to hear from more than anything.

“Any word?”

There were plenty of coffee shops in town. But Lauren was extremely helpful in his need for information—or at least she tried. He just wanted to know she was okay. Lauren had worked there for as long as they were old enough to have jobs. While she was always just on the other side of Harry’s circle of friends, he thought that she could get away with seeing Lauren and Harry might not ever know. He chose this one coffee shop, slightly out of his way, because he thought maybe if she was passing through, it might be the one place she chose—just to see an old friend.

Lauren was extremely helpful at first. Harry had stopped by the shop shortly after Gemma had talked to him in the park. It seemed like fate that he would run into her. Tried reaching out to her, trying to help Harry figure out why. In the end, it amounted to nothing. Not a word came back.

“No word,” her voice was quieter. Like she felt bad that she hadn’t heard anything.

So, he stopped asking. But the habit of visiting Lauren, it made him feel closer to her. In some small way.

He had two trays of drinks that he brought to Louis and Eleanor’s place. They were situated around the coffee table, waiting for a football game to start on TV. It was quiet while they listened to the pregame show and Harry found Sarah staring at him. “What?” He asked.

“You can’t fall in love with Lauren,” Sarah said.

Everyone groaned and agreed with the sentiment.

“Jesus Christ,” Harry muttered as he took a sip of his drink.

“I would castrate you myself,” Eleanor assured him.

“M’not—”

“Harry wouldn’t do that,” Niall said defensively.

“Yeah, that was one of her best friends,” Mitch chimed in as well.

“I don’t—”

“I’m just saying,” Sarah said defensively. “I don’t want you to fall for Lauren just because she’s like her.”

Harry looked at his lap and shook his head. “M’not falling in love again,” he assured them. “As far as m’concerned... m’heart is taken.”

It was a stop light. The music beside him was loud. He scrolled through his phone aimlessly. Something he never did before she left. Why would he need to scroll when she was there? They created their own fun and entertainment. Now, it was the only thing that kept his tired mind occupied. Everything was to pass the time. He laughed when he was supposed to, smiled when he was supposed to. When he needed to move or help someone, he did.

But Harry was undecidedly different. He didn’t laugh the same way. He didn’t love the same anymore. How could he?

The music playing was a hit from ages ago—a song his mum loved and played a lot while he was growing up. If it wasn’t one of his favorites of his mum’s, he might not have looked up from his phone screen. But he did. Thank God, he did.

He dropped his phone. It clanked between his boots against the floor of the truck. His jaw fell slack. “Kitten?” He called instinctively. Her music was too loud, though. Plus, she was singing along. Tapping the steering wheel to the rhythm of the instruments behind the lyrics. Harry’s heart started to race. Like he was in a five-alarm fire. He opened the door without thinking and stepped into the stoplight traffic.

“Harry!” The light was still red, but it wouldn’t be for long. He knocked on her window causing her to jump and double-take as she looked toward him. It felt like Harry had sprinted a marathon in his gear. He was sweating, his breathing erratic.

How long had she been home? Was she home?

God, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his life.

It was like the Earth flipped back to the correct magnetic field. All the pieces of his splintered heart slammed back together. He was overwhelmed with love for her. The 1,127 days that he had counted without her hadn’t passed since he last saw her—it was just yesterday that he saw her, right? She looked the same, beautiful as ever. She smiled; it was small. Almost like she didn’t mean to smile but it was a reflex. Harry smiled back—a reflex of his own at the sight of her. She never failed to make him smile. Even in his memories, the good, the bad, the awful day she left, Harry couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her. His knuckles were still pressed to the window, refusing to move away from the piece of her that was finally physical and real in front of him. It felt like no time had passed. As if it was the very same day that she broke his heart, and they were just lucky to happen to bump into one another while running errands later that day.

“STYLES!” Shouted from behind him.

He blinked, the sound of horns honking returned. Her small smile disappeared, and she waved ever so slightly and started through the intersection. The line of cars beeping behind her. The line of cars behind the truck agitated and beeping as well behind his waiting partner.

Harry hopped back into the truck and watched her turn right at the next streetlight. As they passed the street, his eyes stayed glued to her turn, long after they passed the street. His coworker cleared his throat. “Was that...?”

“Yeah,” he breathed. The breath felt new; like he hadn’t really ever taken a deep breath in a really long time. As if he had been holding it for the last three years and he forgot what oxygen really felt like as it entered his lungs. “Yeah,” he repeated to himself.

general taglist: @justlemmeadoreyou @daydreamingofmatilda @sunshinemoonsposts @loving-hazz @likeapplejuicenpeach

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@angel-upon @lilfreakjez @mleestiles @ameliaalvarez06 @canyonmoondreams

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@lovrave @st-ev-ie @pandeebearstyles @toosarcastic03 @luvonstyles

@tenaciousperfectionunknown @classychalamet @love-letters-to-uranus @emmaawbr @crossyourpeter

@kissinthekitchen @kittenhere @stylesfever @indierockgirrl @michellekstyles

@just-another-reader1098 @hermionelove @tiredinwinter @whimsy-willows @hannah9921

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I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

#harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #harry styles #most #best friend!harry #second chance romance!harry

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werecreature-addicted · 1 year

Note

May I submit this thought for consideration:

Werewolf lover digging out a "den" in the yard because this upcoming rut is about to hit him like a freight train and he can't deny his instincts. The kids are helping him dig, enthusiastic to finally break a rule under dad's careful watch. (He already brought a kill into the living room, so he's in the proverbial doghouse...)

When they go to their human grandparents' for the week to give y'all some room, they might be getting a whole new sibling later. Dad will try his best for another, even though he has to make it all up to you through his hormone-driven haze.

you could kill your husband. He always got a little bit weird around this time of year- always breathing down your neck and rearranging the furniture. He'd spend an extra long time out on his runs and worst of all bring home his "kills". It's the 21st century. you'd grown up your whole life with restaurants and grocery stores Now all of a sudden you're supposed to know how to skin and clean a whole deer?

your eye twitches as you stare at the fresh body on your living room floor. he must have had to take the back door off its hinges to get it this deep in the house. now what? you can't keep calling animal control. and if you dump it in the woods behind your house it'll only attract wild animals. Just what you need, more things for your Mate to hunt.

"Ten minutes," you say, glaring at him. "You have ten minutes to get this thing out of my house," He does. you don't ask what he does with the thing, as long as it's gone. leaving you with a deep bloodstain to scrub out of your floors and carpets. You mutter darkly to yourself as you clean and your husband takes this as a sign that he should not be in the house right now.

He never wants to upset you- and it's not like he regrets being with a human, he loves you more than life itself but it stings a little how these romantic gestures just make you mad. Still, he can't deny his instincts. He needs to feed you, and keep you strong so you can carry his brood again. He hopes he can knock you up with twins this time.

The children are more than happy to help him work on the den, They are wild wolf pups after all, and they need to do stuff like dig and collect branches. The den is nice. private and sheltered. deep in nature but still comfortable enough for a human to sleep in. The kids help him decorate the den with wildflowers before they pack up to spend a week with Grandma and Grandpa.

"You better have one hell of an apology," you grumble, although you've mostly forgiven him. He takes you into his arms and tugs your shirt collar to the side kissing and licking your neck.

"I'll make it up to you all night long if you let me," he murmurs. and he means it too. If you want you can ride his face for as long as it takes for you to forgive him. "I'll even give you a gift tonight if that will make you feel better," he offers.

"A gift?" you ask.

"Yes, but you'll have to wait nine months for the "gift" to get here,"

#werewolf #monster imagine #monster fucker #werewolves #teratophillia #monster #werewolf boyfriend #monster boyfriend #werewolf x reader

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kittykattropicanna · 8 months

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it's 2 am and i should sleep but i just read your prison penpal!ghost now it's rotting my brain!!!! ><

reader would so try to send him gifts if they're allowed. special holidays aren't miserable for him anymore as he would be accompanied by reader's sweet little presents!!!

Sleeps for the weak baby, sleep when you’re dead ;)

Of course you're going to look after your man, he does so much for you, the least you can do is send him some money to treat himself!!! maybe a gift or two you dirty girl :3

I know I promised to upload this last night after work but I was sleepy. IM SORRY PLEASE FORGIVE ME

TW: edging, Si fucks himself with your dirty panties, smut, masterbation (Reader and Simon) its just fucking disgusting and dirty, but also kinda sweet <3

PrisonPenPal!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Absolutely, holy shit. After your first phone call, you’re his, he makes that so unbelievably clear through his next letters. :)))

Telling you how much he craves you, how you’re the only thing on his mind, describing in intimate detail how his gonna touch you, kiss you, fuck you :((((

His so fucking desperate for you, to the point he actually gets enraged knowing he can’t touch you. Just the thought of you being on the other side of the wall makes his skin crawl, you’re right there, only thick cement dividing him from you :((

Its even worse knowing that he can’t do anything about it >:(

Si’s a problem solver, he prides himself on being able to weasel his way out of practically any situation without a problem, if that’s reducing his sentence down to basically nothing or getting away with his little late night phone calls with you. He always finds a way to make it work, but for the first time ever, he can’t fix this, his stuck here. No exceptions, no sweet talking to get what he wants, no amount of calculated manipulation could get him out of this situation, and it makes him go absolutely mad.

At this point he has a year left of his sentence, his so fucking close to being let back into society, so close to finally being with you :(((

Letting his emotions (and dick) cloud his judgment, driving him to think about making stupid decisions such as an attempted jail break would be absolutely the worst idea of his entire life.

Ohhhhh, but its so tempting :(

But it would just put more time between you and him, as much as he wanted you now, he knew it was only going to rip him away from you again in the long run :/

And that’s if his even successful, one night with you would mean the world to him, but it wasn't worth being thrown back in jail, only separating the two of you for longer :(

He just needed to sit tight, let the days roll on and try not to think about your soft moans through the shitty speaker of the prison phone. :(((

He absolutely asked you to be official after speaking to you for the first time. It drives him crazy knowing when guys try and hit on you at the bar, you smile brightly and tell them that you're his, his to keep.

One of the guards asked him what’s the first thing his going to do when he gets out, with a dopey smile he chuckles a little

“See ma’ missus mate” his so fucking cute, his actually so obsessed with you, so proud that you’re his ;))))

Of course the other inmates wouldn’t know, and technically he most definitely shouldn’t of told a guard, news spreads, but he couldn’t help it, it slipped out, and you know what, he was fucking proud of it :)))

You 100% would send him money and gifts, Si makes a little money, about £35 a week either cleaning, laundry duties, basic maintenance, basically anything the job program can offer him.

The only issue being when he first signed up, he made sure that all his money was payed into Price’s bank account. He didn’t want to risk using it, the whole reason he started the work program was because he wanted to try and set himself up once he got out, at least have some type of savings waiting for him on the other side. Every now and then he regrets it, but he knows its for the best :/

Learning that Si was so strict with his money that he didn’t treat himself to anything didn’t sit well with you….and its not like you’re struggling financially, you work a good job and your daddy is always willing to send money if you ever needed it!!!!

A hundred odd pounds a month isn’t going to leave any sort of dint in your bank account, so of course your going to send Si some money to treat himself!!! You’re such a sweet, sweet girl :(((, his sweet, sweet girl.

You start sending the maximum amount each month which comes out to about £150, its the least you can do!! His your boyfriend! he might be a felon, a little perverted and rough around the edges, but to you, his perfect :)))

His so grateful as well :(( treating himself to snacks :((( chocolate bars, skittles and gummy’s, buying himself a book or two, replacing his flat, stained pillow and ratted blankets, getting himself some actually nice soap and a new toothbrush, buying clothes that actually fit him!!

His muscles have grown so much since being locked up :3 there’s nothing else to do besides lift weights, work and sit around :((((

“Sweetheart, I want ya’ to know, the second I get out of here, imma treat you real nice, give ya’ everything I can, look after ya’, protect ya’”

and

“The minute I get ya’ home, its all about you, yeah? Imma lay ya’ down and eat ya’ like a starved man, overstimulate that little cunt till ya’ beggin’ me to stop, fuck ya’ so deep and hard that you’ll forget ya’ fuckin’ name, whatever ya’ want darlin’ its all yours, been lookin’ after me so well….. imma show ya’ how much I appreciate it, as ya’ can probably tell, i’m more a man of action, poetry an’t ma style baby ;)”

Definitely learns origami from other inmates, makes little paper swans and hearts for you, the paper always being a little stained from his dirty fingers, obvious crease marks showing his folded it the wrong way and had to reattempt :))))

God he knows how to treat a women :33333

But what I really want to get into are the gifts you send him…..;)

As I established in my last fics about you sending things to Si, you absolutely send him innocent gifts.

Photos, one of your favourite gold necklaces, an oversized tee that smells like your perfume…. Cute little personal things so he can have a piece of you, nothing crazy :3

I feel like you were reading a spicy romance book. It mentioned the main character stealing his lovers used panties out of her dirty laundry basket, very quickly and idea clicked in your brain :((((

You wanted it to be a surprise for him :(((( you didn’t mention it to him in your letters, only telling him your working on a little something that’s crafted just for him ;))

Waking up in the morning you make sure to fuck yourself with your fingers :((

Covering your panties with your juices, making sure their absolutely soaked in your cum :((

Rubbing your thighs together while you’re at work, soaking through your panties with your arousal :((( thinking about Si eating your pussy just like he promised while in important meetings, loosing focus…. your boss pulling you aside and asking if you’re okay :((

Scrambling to find an answer to explain your distracted behaviour and flushed cheeks >:(

He ends up sending you home because you’re distracting everyone with your aloofness :(( putting the rest of your team behind because you're a selfish girl with a dirty mind >:( can’t even focus in your workplace because Si’s dirty words have taken over every aspect of your thoughts >:(

At the end of the day your panties are ruined with your slick, soaked all the way through and smelling of your orgasm just like you planned ;))

And when Si received your thong obviously used??? :000000 he let out a low grunt....

Just the idea that you did this for him, fully confirming in his mind that you wanted him, craved him just as much as he craved you made something animalistic set off in his mind….

Because he received your package in the middle of the day, he couldn’t hide and tend to himself like normal >:((((((

He needed you now, he needed to fuck his cock NOW, not wait till his cell mates were asleep, his heavy balls ached and he knew if he didn’t relieve himself soon, his blue balls would become unbearable >:(((( aching and hurting with each step, uncomfortable and frustrated :(

Purposely being a dick and coursing havoc with his inmates so he can be locked up for his disruptive and disrespectful behaviour ;)))))

A shit eating grin when his in handcuffs being walked to his cell, knowing your panties are tucked into his boxers ;))))) his won yet again ;)

Like I’ve said before, and I’ll say it again, he ALWAYS gets what he wants :)))

The second his cell locks his ripping his hard, leaky cock out and wrapping your used panties around himself :((((

Pumping his fat dick, the friction of the fabric making it that much more satisfying :((((

Closing his eyes and imagining you walking around all day, turned on and flustered for him >:((((( the idea of you restricting yourself from fucking other men because you're his, knowing all you want is to be filled with dick, have the feeling of a real cock fucking you, not your cold, rubber dildo >:(

His precum mixing with your juices only turns him on more, knowing that this is the closest he’ll get to fucking your cunt for now :((

As his big hands slowly pump his dick, wanting to savour the moment, he lets out animalistic grunts, slowly speeding up and then slowing his pace, he edges himself almost whimpering when he refrains from his release yet again :(((

Something about holding back satisfies him, his training himself for you, getting ready for when he fucks you for the first time, wanting to hold out long enough that he can rip orgasm after orgasm out of you, forming a white rim of your cum around the base of his cock :(((

Grunted whispers of your name falling from his lips as he tries to hold back yet again, legs twitching and face getting hot as uncontrollable ropes of cum finally release from his vainy cock :(((

His never cum that much in his life, your panties damp with his semen, dick so sensitive that even the feeling of the fabric from his boxes makes him flinch >:(((

You’re such a good girl, always knowing how to please him, feels like you know him inside and out already ;)

You just wait until he gets his hands on you sweet girl ;)))

Y'all are so fucking obsessed with each other I CAN'T

PrisonPenPal!Simon is open for requests so feel free to send them throughhhhh, add to the AU, ask me expand on certain topics, whatever floats your boat >:)

!Disclaimer! - Above is NSFW content - MDNI - If you follow my blog without your age in your bio, you will be blocked - If you are under the age of 18, you are not welcome here, otherwise, enjoy :)

Cat divider sourced by @positively-mine from Pinterest - Pink line divider by @eloquentreverie - MDNI divider by @cafekitsune

Basic blog housekeeping - fic requests guidelines, boundaries and my rules for minors

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theemporium · 8 months

Note

may i request a quinn hughes fic, about them being neighbours (reader is a good 4 years younger than him) in the same apartment building (and think the others cute), see eachother in the elevators all the time, but eventually they talk and boom bam you picture the rest

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

After one of the worst days of your life, it shouldn’t have surprised you that the universe would pick today of all days for your cute neighbour to catch you outside your apartment.

If it had been any other day, it would have been a funny situation you could have laughed at and maybe joked about. But it wasn’t any other day, it was today and today fucking sucked. From your alarm not working in the morning to missing the bus, to spilling coffee all over your notes in a lecture to getting yelled at during your shift at a local cafe.

From the moment you woke up, everything seemed to be going wrong and you just wanted to crawl into bed, maybe indulge in a takeout and cry in bed with the hope that tomorrow would be better. Except, you had climbed the flights of stairs to your apartment (because of course the elevator was broken) only to find out you left your keys inside when you were rushing around that morning. And, according to the message from your landlord, the blacksmith wouldn’t be able to come out for another few hours.

Which left you sitting against your apartment door, soaked to the bone because Vancouver weather was no joke, sniffling to yourself because an attempt to call your mother and cry to her failed when it rang into voicemail.

So of course that was exactly how Quinn Hughes had to find you.

“Are…are you okay?”

Your head snapped up to find the boy standing a few feet away from you, dressed in sweatpants and a hoodie with a gym bag over his shoulder. He looked ridiculously cute in the blue Canucks beanie on his head and the soft expression on his face as he took in your current state.

“I got locked out,” you answered with a pathetic laugh because if you didn’t laugh, you would have cried. Again.

“That isn’t what I asked,” he said, a teasing glint in his eyes. “I asked if you were okay.”

“Yeah, totally,” you scoffed, waving him off. “I’m so fine.”

You waited for him to nod, accept your answer and make his way to his apartment a few doors down. Instead, you were surprised to find him dumping his bag on the floor and settling against the wall across from you as he sat on the floor.

“You look like you’ve had a rough day,” he admitted with a sheepish expression.

“Just what every girl wants to hear,” you snorted.

His cheeks burned a little. “No, I didn’t mean like that—” But he stopped when you snickered a little, something in his chest easing at the sound. “I just meant you aren’t smiling properly.”

You raised your brows. “Smiling properly?”

“Yeah, your smile seems fake. Usually you have these big smiles on your face whenever I see you,” Quinn confessed.

“Maybe those are reserved just for you,” you said the words before you could stop them, your face burning even hotter.

“I would hope so,” Quinn retorted.

You pressed your lips together, trying to resist the urge to let one of those massive smiles take over your face. However, the boy caught your attention again as he lightly nudged your leg with his foot.

“How about you wait at my place until the blacksmith comes?” Quinn asked, and despite the bravado a captain should have, he looked a bit nervous. “I’ll give you some clothes to change into before you catch a cold.”

You started shaking your head. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” he answered quickly. “I want to help.”

Your gaze softened. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” he said as he moved to stand up again, grabbing his bag and swinging it over his shoulder before stretching his hand out to help you up. “And in return, maybe you can tell me what happened to make it look like you went through a war zone.”

“Way to charm a girl, Hughes,” you snorted.

“It seems to be working alright so far,” he countered, a cheesy grin on his face as he pulled you towards his apartment, not quite ready to let go of your hand just yet. But neither were you.

#quinn hughes #nhl #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

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amourtoken · 2 months

Text

I will be the brave soldier that tackles this concept that others may be too afraid to tackle 🫡

I was gonna do one big post for the whole group but the Noah part took over so I'll split it into individual parts for you. Here's some stepbro Noah for you 💀

Anyway let's get into it I feel like im virtually stalling lol. Apologies if this is insanely long it may or may not be the longest thing I've ever written so forgive me if it's rambley or not that great.

CW: stepcest, mean/annoying ass Noah, oral (M receiving), dacryphilia, choking, spit, belly bulge, raw sex, facials, squirting, fingering, nipple play, mentions of breeding, Dom Noah ftw always, oral fixation, slapping (just in general, face and pussy yk), and if I missed any others pls let me know

*NSFW below the cut, MDNI*

♡ The day Noah moved in to your dad's house was the worst day of your life unbeknownst to you at the time. He seemed tolerable at first but it took zero time for him to become a raging asshole that lived to torment you it seemed. He always blasts music late at night, is constantly yelling while playing video games with those obnoxious ass friends of his that like to come over and somehow act even more unbearable and he has the audacity to walk around YOUR house like he owns the place when he's only been here for a few months. What a cunt.

♡ Noah loves teasing you as well. He's got a couple years on you and is SUBSTANTIALLY larger than you so somewhere in the back of his mind he feels like you're easy to manipulate and manhandle the shit out of cause he's older, bigger, stronger, ect. He likes the way your voice pitches up in a yelp when he walks by and smacks your ass hard enough to bruise, he couldn't resist, not while you had those little shorts on. He also doesn't think twice abt it being "weird" or anything, he really doesn't even see you as a relative at this point, you're both grown and you've known eachother for like 6 months at the most. The fact his mom wanted to bang your dad has no effect on his life aside from the fact he had to up and move to your city.

♡ every time your parents give you two the house alone, it usually goes one of two ways. Either Noah invites those previously mentioned friends over and you get to listen to them practicing new songs in your living room until your head throbs from the volume or Noah invites some random tinder girl over to fuck half to death while you get the pleasure of listening to it through the thin wall that seperates your rooms. You've done everything to muffle the noise, but the incessant rhythmic slamming of his headboard right against the wall is similar to water torture. If you didn't care about privacy (unlike him, he frequently throws your bedroom door open while you're changing or walks in on you fresh out of the shower) you'd storm into his room and tell him to shut the fuck up but unfortunately you're a nicer person than he is so you suffer for a while longer.

♡ you end up confronting him the next night while he's on a game with his friends (again being eye twitching levels of loud and annoying). You had the decency to knock but when he opens the door he's got his hair tied up halfway, shirtless, and shorts sitting so fucking low on his hips you can see the light trail of hair that runs up his lower stomach to his navel. You hate that he's your type because shouldn't that be weird? He's your step brother, that has to be weird right?

"Yknow if you take a picture it'll last longer, right? My eyes are up here."

♡ Noah apparently clocked your staring and he has this stupid smug grin on his face that you hate. Ultimately how can he be upset for you staring at him when his eyes are always glued to your tits or ass whenever he has the chance?? He has no shame. It's not that he's upset at you, but he knows deep down you're fighting something he gave into ages ago, and he's got you wrapped around his finger whether you like it or not. You can't stand him, or is it that you want to hate him so you don't have to admit your other feelings?

"Can I help you or are you just gonna keep staring at my cock? I'm kinda fucking busy."

♡ he's always been this brash and it still somehow shocks you every time. You hate he's not really wrong, you wouldn't have been looking if his dick didn't leave a scarily large print in those shorts he was wearing. No wonder all those girls he brings over are so fucking loud. You didn't realize you still hadn't said what you came over to say, it felt like your voice was trapped in your throat especially when you looked up at him and those pretty brown eyes of his. God you fucking hate him, you hate that you're jealous of everyone that gets to spend time with him and all of those girls he's brought over to fuck and never say a word to again. He's an asshole but fuck if he isn't a pretty one. You feel like this is wrong but everything about him is wrong so what's new.

"If you want a taste you can just ask."

"Come on baby don't act like you don't think about me how I think about you. I've heard you playing with that little pussy and whining my name before, so you can't really fake hating me now, huh?"

♡ you're literally standing in his doorway dumbfounded at this point. He knew? Oh.

"Bet I could fuck that uptight attitude out of you. Maybe that's all you need, some good dick."

oh!

He shifts from where he's leaning against the doorframe to palm himself through his shorts and your heart feels like it's actually trying to escape your ribcage. Is this even real??? You came over here to bitch at him for being a loud inconsiderate asshole and he's trying to fuck you? Why doesn't he feel like this is wrong, why don't you feel like this is wrong? Why do you have this childish crush on your literal stepbrother? You feel dizzy. Noah has you right where he wants you though, he's been onto you the whole time and he could've just been nicer to you but who doesn't love a good hatefuck? He figured if he broke you down enough he could build you back up into the perfect little in home cock sleeve he knew you really wanted to be. He's fucking gross I need him but he's not wrong, is he?

♡ your eyes flit down from his eyes to his hand that's wrapped around his clothed cock again and you thought your knees would give out. How does that even fit inside anyone?? No wonder his dates sound like they're in a slasher film, they probably feel like they're getting split down the middle. You don't have much more time to think cause he's pulling you into his room and forcing you onto your knees in front of him.

"You're so much nicer when you're not bitching at me for fucking everything. Always wanted to fuck that pretty mouth of yours anyway, can't talk with your mouth full can you?"

Noah laces a large tattooed hand through the hair at the back of your head and you wince at the sting. You feel like your brain is just empty now, honestly this whole thing feels so much like a dream you're not fully convinced it's real, that you're actually letting your stepbrother smear precum on your lips with the tip of his big cock. It's even more threatening when it's not straining against his shorts, the tip is a pretty pink and there's a big thick vein running up the underside. You can't even fit your hand around it entirely, and you're so wet over it you're sure you can see through your pajama pants.

"Open."

♡ you do as you're told and Noah tugs your hair a little more to angle your head back. He's clouded up your brain so much you barely react when he spits directly onto your tongue, reaching to smear the mess around with 2 of his long fingers. You're looking up at him with big puppy eyes that water pathetically when he slides those two fingers down your throat, thrusting them in and out deeper each time to see how well you take him. He laughs when you gag and your eyes water as he sinks his fingers as deep as he can get them, you're such a fucking mess it's pathetic but that's exactly what's making his cock twitch. You're exactly how he needs you.

"gonna be a good girl for me? Let me fuck your throat and maybe I'll make you cum after if you're good."

you squeeze your thighs together to try and get some friction when he slaps his cock on your tongue, he's so fucking heavy and thick you really don't know how he expects to fit anywhere in your body let alone your mouth. Regardless, you try. You reach up to brace your hands on his tattooed thighs and focus on kissing and licking all over the tip, looking up at him when you wrap your lips around it to see his head fall back in a deep sigh. Sure he's gotten head before but something about this situation just makes him so much harder. The hand in your hair tightens and he slowly starts thrusting into your mouth, shallow at first but as you start taking more of him and it gets messy, he starts going much harder.

♡ Noah's fucking your throat so hard you have fat tears spilling down your cheeks, you're trying so hard to take him well but when he sinks in to the hilt and holds you there until you're clawing at this thighs and whimpering around his cock cause you can't breathe you can't help but pull away to catch it.

"God you're such a fucking slut."

He punctuates the phrase by landing a slap on your cheek. Not hard enough to really hurt you but definitely enough to sting. Normally you'd be upset but right now? Fuck you're almost begging him to do it again.

Once you catch your breath you open your mouth expectantly and he's right back to it. This time he has both hands tangled up in your hair while he's fucking your throat. Thank God no one's home cause he's not even trying to be a little quiet, deep moans and growls freely flowing from his mouth. You can't help but feel a little proud of yourself, normally you don't hear him make much noise when he's fucking whoever he's brought over but he's being pretty damn vocal right now. You can tell he's close by the way his thrusts falter and right before he cums he pulls out to paint your face. Whatever doesn't land on your tongue he gathers with his fingers and makes you suck them clean.

♡ you'd think he'd need a while to get hard again but no, he honestly didn't ever stop in the first place. Noah's dragging you up off the floor and nearly ripping your shorts down your legs and shirt off your torso immediately, he's seen you naked on "accident" but now that he really gets to look at you and feel you, fuck it's so much nicer. He steps back to admire your bare form but he can't go 3 seconds without teasing you. He runs his hands up your body to massage your tits and tease your nipples, pinching and playing with them until you're whimpering and teary eyed again.

He "apologizes" by leaning down and laving his tongue over the sensitive skin, making you arch against him and you can literally feel him smiling against your skin. He doesn't pull away before leaving a few dark hickeys on the underside of your tits, admiring his work after.

You don't get much of a break for long before he's picking you up and tossing you onto his bed. You can't help but notice it's neatly made (or was) before he drags your attention back to him by slapping his tip right against your clit, making you yelp. Apparently he liked your reaction cause he did it again, this time with his hand instead and with a little more force. Your voice broke into a whimper as he started rubbing circles on your clit with his fingers to ease the sting from the slap. He's mean but he still wants you to feel good.

"Can you say please? I wanna hear you beg for my cock before I give it to you, gotta know you really want it."

that smug look returns when his name and various pleads spill from your lips while he's sliding his fingers through the slick mess at your entrance, spreading the wetness around and dipping into you just enough to feel how tight you are around his fingers. He's reeling over the thought of how tight you'll be around his cock.

♡ like I said he's mean but he still wants you to feel good, he knows you need some kind of prep before he gets to fuck you. His free hand is slowly stroking his cock while the other is teasing your entrance, gauging your reaction. He starts with just one finger but quickly ends up fucking 3 into you, watching your back arch pathetically off the bed while he curls his fingers right up against that spot inside you that makes black spots flood your vision. You're squeezing his fingers so tight he knows you're close. The hand on his cock comes up to play with your clit and you feel like there's a literal fire lit in your belly.

"Gonna cum for me baby? It's okay, you can. Just let me make you feel good, need you see you fall apart for me."

Your legs are shaking, you're panting and squirming. It really feels like too much and right before you cum you're begging and pleading Noah to slow down cause it's just too much but he doesn't, if anything he's picking up the pace. The sound of your wetness is almost as loud as your moans for him and it only gets worse when that coil in your belly snaps and you nearly scream. You're arching off the bed and clawing at anything you can grab, you've cum before on your own but you've never felt anything this intense and sure as hell never made yourself squirt so this is a first. Noah is elated, his forearm and sheets are fucking drenched but he couldn't care less about the mess he's achingly hard at the fact he got you to squirt at all.

Noah reaches up and makes you clean your mess off his fingers, sliding them down your throat again just to feel you gag around them.

You're so sensitive and your brain is so fuzzy you can barely hold your head up, your chest rising and falling quickly while Noah sizes his length up against your tummy and groans at your size difference. His tip lands right below your navel, fuck, he's gonna demolish you. He's practically dripping like a faucet at this point and can't wait to be inside you, he's wanted this since you two fucking met. Noah leans over you to spit directly on your pussy before spreading it around with his tip and prodding at your slit, he's not even inside and you're whimpering about the stretch just from him resting against you.

"Can I hear you say please one more time, baby?"

♡ you enthusiastically answer, pleading for him to just fuck you and he takes the chance gladly. You knew the stretch was gonna be a lot but fuck when he actually sank balls deep your whole body ached. You were so fucking full it was unreal. You thought he couldn't get deeper but he crawled over you to push your knees up next to your ears and the moan you produced was pornographic. His tip was pressed right against your cervix and every time he thrust into you he knocked against it, it was painful at first but once the initial sting of the stretch wore off you've never felt better.

You swore you could feel him in your stomach he was so deep, and the sound of his hips smacking against yours was filthy. There was that familiar sound of his headboard hitting your shared wall but thankfully this time you weren't annoyed by it, if anything it drove you further.

Noah's moans started out deep in his chest but as he got closer they pitched up almost into whines, he was bucking his hips into yours like an animal in heat and his nails were sinking into your hips hard enough to bruise. He only leaned back a bit to wrap a hand around your throat and squeeze, cutting your moans and whimpers into pathetic strangled sounds.

"F-fuck- fuck fuck- 'm gonna cum- so fucking hard- tell me you want it- fuck, tell me you want me to fill this pretty pussy up-"

Youd never seen or heard him so disheveled but fuck if it wasn't hot. You didn't hesitate to beg for him to cum inside you, it made his head spin at the thought. God this was wrong but he couldn't help but imagine how pretty you'd look carrying his kid either. Noah pulled back just enough to have you in normal missionary, you wondered why but when he pressed his hand on your lower stomach you figured it out pretty quick. He could feel exactly where he was inside you and was rutting against his hand through you like you were nothing more than a toy. He only stopped so he could grab your hand and have you feel as well. His dick made a noticeable bulge in your belly every time he thrust into you, and it only made you ache at the thought. He really was ruining you for anyone else.

♡ Noah slid a hand between your bodies to tease your clit while he picked up the pace of his own sloppy thrusts. He was gonna cum but he needed you to cum with him. The hand on your throat absentmindedly tightened and you were seeing black spots flood your vision already but when he sank as deep as he could possibly get and whimpered as he came you couldn't stop yourself from toppling over the same edge. You thought you'd never cum so hard in your life earlier but now? This was really it. You sank your nails into his arm hard enough to draw blood while you convulsed under him, breaking into sobs of his name while he ground his hips into yours.

Noah pulling out left you with a horrible emptiness and you almost begged him to stay for just a bit longer. He was considering it himself but his thoughts were cut short when you both heard the front door downstairs open.

Shit.

Noah nearly threw you out of bed, scrambling to pull his shorts back on. Your clothes were strewn everywhere and you didn't have time to hunt for them so you picked up the first shirt you could find off his floor and put it on before racing back to your own room. Thank God you made it quick cause Noah's cum was still dripping down your thighs.

*also just saw the rb but tagging @somebodyllelse cause I almost forgot 😭

#Nowah #noah sebastian smut #Stepbro Noah

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peterman-spideyparker · 9 months

Text

Half-Wrong (College!Matt Murdock x college!fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Howdy folks, ya girl somehow caught Covid during the worst week possible! I have a 102 fever and I don't really remember writing this cuz I've been taking a lot of naps, so if it doesn't make sense and has errors I'm sorry. I saw that Owen Sleater gifset (iykyk) and rolled with it. Enjoy :)

Summary: You have been attracted to Matt Murdock ever since the pair of you met at the coffee shop on campus on move-in day, but you knew he'd never feel the same way about you - this became especially true once you got insight on his romantic life. So when you find him waiting for you after you come back from a date, you take a chance.

Warnings: Sweet platonic fluff, close friendship vibes, kissing, smut (oral - f!receiving, sexy oral m!condom put on, protected sex, p in v sex), swearing

Other Characters: Foggy Nelson, ofc (Cassie)

Word Count: 2,844

“C’mon, just a little more,” you huff as you move your run to a jog on the sidewalk. “A little bit more, and then we’ll be back at the dorms.”

“I don’t get why you think this is the best way to exercise,” Matt huffs as he puts his hands up in a T shape.

“You like boxing, I like a good run. Potato, potahto. The thing you should be thinking about is why you repeatedly agree and continue to go on runs with me,” you pant as you untie the tether that you use while you run—with Matt being unable to see and just how hard you imagine running with a cane would be, a tether to your waist to guide him and gently keep him out of the path of obstacles seemed like a good option.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve figured that part out yet, either. I mean, you do agree to box with me which is nice. But I think I just like spending time with you. Although, being tied with you does kind of make me feel like a dog.”

“Ah, but you’re such a kind, pretty dog with soft hair,” you smirk, ruffling his sweaty hair. “Such a good boy.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckles, his cheeks flushing beyond the rosiness from the run. “Help me get to the cafe in the student union and I’ll buy us some waters.”

You press a kiss to his warm cheek and place his hand on your forearm.

“Hey, are you still gonna join Foggy and I at Josie’s tonight?” he asks, his breathing sounding like it’s starting to return to normal as you both enter the nearby building.

“I thought that was tomorrow?” you return, navigating the pair of you through a small little self-serve concession area.

“No, tonight. You have plans?”

“Don’t sound too shocked.”

“I don’t mean it like that.”

“Okay. Then how did you mean it?”

“Well, just that you haven’t had plans in almost a year,” he exaggerates as he takes the waters you hand him.

“Excuse me, I have plans,” you say as you take the waters back and scan them, Matt rooting around in his shorts for his student ID.

“No, you have plans with your other friends semi-regularly. You never have date plans,” he clarifies as he swipes his ID to pay.

“I’m sorry all of us can’t be you with a new companion every few weeks.”

“I don’t have a ‘new companion’ every few weeks.”

“Oh, come on, Matt, don’t deny it,” you say as you drink your water. “Right now, it’s that girl from that IP law class, before that it was a dental student, then I think an international relations major? But let’s not forget about contract law girl, estate planning—.”

“Okay, fine, I’ve had a lot of short-term relationships.”

“Well, that’s great for you, but that’s not what I’m looking for,” you tell him. “I mean, I don’t expect anything right now to last forever, but, I don’t want it to be a four-week thing and then be done with it. If I’m gonna make plans with someone, it’s because I think I still might be making plans with them in five months.”

Matt nods and drinks some of his own water as you move back outside and in the direction of our dorms. “So, what’s this guy like? Where’d you meet?”

“Cassie actually set us up,” you say. “She said that he seemed like my type, like a really good guy.”

“Well, then, I’m happy you have plans tonight. I hope it goes well.”

“Thanks, Matt. I do, too. I mean, I have no reason to think they won’t. Just tell Foggy I’m sorry I’m gonna miss him tonight.”

“Of course.”

“Do I see a wild (Y/N) in one of her natural habitats?” you hear Foggy call from across the quad.

“Speak of the Nelson, and he shall appear!” you smile as he comes to wrap you in a hug.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“(Y/N) has a date tonight,” Matt says with a devilish grin.

“Matthew!” you say, giving him a swift whack. “This is exactly why I don’t tell you things.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’m happy for you, really.”

“I am, too!” Foggy chimes in. “I’m bummed that it means you’ll miss drinks at Josie’s, but, it’s about time you get dicked down.”

“I need to hang out with more friends that are girls,” you sigh, taking a look at your watch. “I gotta go now if I want to take an everything shower.” Kissing each of their cheeks, you wave goodbye and run off to your dorm to get ready.

“I just don’t see it going anywhere,” you sigh as you enter the main lobby of your dorm building.

“Really?” Cassie asks over the phone.

“We work on paper, but there wasn’t any spark.”

“Maybe the spark is gonna take some time.”

“A spark shouldn’t take time, Cass. It should be right there I didn’t feel anything.”

“You can’t pin every guy against Matt, you know.”

“I’m not comparing everyone against Matt,” you scoff incredulously.

“Yes, you are. Ever since you met. I bet you felt a spark with him.”

“So what if I did? It’s clear he didn’t with me, but . . .” You sigh and shake the thought out of your head. “I’m not an option for him. He’s a good person, but more importantly, he’s my friend. I’m not gonna spend my time fantasizing about something that’s never gonna happen.”

“HA.”

“You are so mean.”

“I’m sorry, it’s just a funny concept—you, not fantasizing.”

“Rude.”

“I’m your oldest friend, it’s my job.”

“I appreciate it. Listen, I just got to my door, I’m gonna call it a night.”

“Okay, (Y/N). Sleep well.”

“You too.”

Hanging up, you sigh as you put your phone back into your bag, hiking the strap up over your shoulder, slipping out your keys and undoing the old locks. You toss your purse on the nearby table, but freeze in your tracks when you see someone sitting on your bed. Not any someone. Matt.

“You shouldn’t be in here this late,” you breathe.

“I shouldn’t be in here at all,” he says softly, folding his glasses and putting them on your nightstand. “But why do something half-wrong?”

You slowly start to close the gap between where he sits and where you stand. “Matt . . .”

“If you want me to go, I will. Just say the word.”

“. . . Why now?”

“I don’t know. I just . . . I realized tonight when I was at Josie’s with Foggy that if you’re going to be kissing anyone, I want it to be me.”

You don’t care what you just told Cassie. Honestly, you don’t care about anything or how this could complicate your friendship or any of the consequences. Instead, you move to your bed, climb into his lap, and kiss him. That spark you first felt with Matt when you met is a full-blown lightning bolt now, every last bit of you tingling with electricity; you know Matt feels it too from the way his hands slide up your back and how his fingers card through your hair. Matt leans back on the mattress, letting you take the lead as you make out. His kisses gradually grow more aggressive—the clashing of teeth, nipping, squeezing, and grinding. Matt rolls your bodies over on the bed, eagerly but carefully pulling off your shirt.

“Please tell me you were anticipating this and have condoms on you,” you pant as he peppers kisses all over your torso.

“Mmm,” he hums into my body. Oh my God, I think I just came. “Four.”

“We’re using all of them.” You feel how his lips curl into a smile against your body, making you writhe before you scream out when he starts to suck on the sweet spot on your neck.

“Ambitious,” he hums, licking and kissing at the stinging spot on my neck.

“Oh, well, you know me,” you grunt, your fingertips scratching his scalp. “I love to go above and beyond.”

“Let’s shoot for two,” he says into your collarbone.

“Don’t think I can handle using them all?”

He lifts his face up to be level with yours. “I’m saying that you won’t be walking straight after one. If we use more than two, I’ll be carrying you around campus for a week.”

“Sound like a challenge.”

“It’s a guarantee.”

You both smile brightly before you kiss, and you bunch up the cotton of his shirt exposing his soft skin and toned muscles something out of a romance novel.

“Like what you see?” he smirks.

“You’re too cocky for your own good,” you sigh as you run a hand down his exposed body. “But as a matter of fact, I really, really do.”

“Well, if you’re thinking of doing what I think you are, angel . . . Tonight is about you, and treating you right. How I should’ve treated you a long time ago.” He leans down and kisses your lips before moving the embraces along your cheek to just below your ear. “Sit back and relax, sweetheart. I’m gonna take good care of you.”

You sigh as he presses kisses down your chest, nipping at your cleavage and soothing the sting of any bite with his lips. You pant in excitement under his touch as his hands wrap around my back, unclasping your bra and sliding it painfully slow off of your body. You let out a sigh and toss your head to the side as his lips wrap around your nipple, one of his hands on your free breast while the other hand holds onto yours. Matt takes his time as if he’s trying to map out your body in his mind with his lips. Gazing down, you catch a glimpse of how happy Matt looks as he drags his lips further down your torso, pressing a long kiss on your belly button before unbuttoning your pants to shimmy them off your legs. Tossing them to the floor, he kisses all the way up your legs before spreading them apart to nestle his face against your covered core. You whine at his careful and deliberate movements, lifting your hips to help him slide the fabric off. Matt’s fingers gently spread you open, exposing yourself completely to him.

“Oh, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me,” he breathes. “So perfect for me.”

Carefully, he lets out a soft breath on your pussy before leaning forward and wrapping his lips around your clit.

“Oh!” you cry out. “Fuck . . .”

Your toes curl as Matt works his magic, and your eyes flutter shut as you let your mind get caught up in all the things that Matt is making you feel. If you had known he could make you feel like this—if you knew he even felt an inkling of the same way toward your, you would’ve done something to let him know that you care about him more more than a friend.

“Matty,” you breathe, running your fingers through his hair. “Oh, Matt, just like that. So good.”

You watch as Matt tries to lift his gaze upward to meet yours, his beautiful hazel eyes sparkling with delight as he eats you out. You swallow hard, throwing your head back as you feel your orgasm quickly approach. You cry out when you feel him slide two fingers into you, curling them just right to throw you over the edge. Your body arches off of the mattress as you cry out, your thighs clenching around his head. Matt’s tongue cleans up every last drop of your arousal before kissing all the way back up your body.

“You taste so good, angel,” he murmurs into your lips. “You ready for me?”

“Please,” you breathe, kissing him deeply. “I need you.”

He grins, kissing you again before leaning back and undoing his pants, shimmying them down enough to free his cock from the fabric before he reaches in his pocket to grab a condom. He is absolutely huge—delightfully so, and I feel the space between my legs instantly flood at the sight of him. Now what he said about not walking straight makes total sense, and not Matt just being cocky.

“All the way off,” you demand with a smile.

“Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip in excitement as he gets completely naked while you tear open the little foil package.

“C’mere,” you grin as you drink him in as he kneels on your bed, completely and utterly bare.

Matt licks his lips, doing as you ask, folding his arms behind his head. Fuck, he has to know what he’s doing when he rests like that. Carefully, you crawl over to him, putting the tip of the condom in your mouth before you wrap your hand around his base and bring your head down his length. Your jaw hurts as you go down his thick cock, but you manage to get it all the way down. When you get back up, you see how lust-blown Matt’s expression is, how flushed his cheeks and chest are.

“That was so fucking hot,” he hums. “Get over here, angel.”

With a smile, you move to meet him in a kiss, a new passion in the embrace that hand’t been there before.

“You ready for me?” he breathes.

“Yeah,” you nod eagerly as you dip down for a kiss.

With firm hands on your hips, he guides you down on his cock. You moan in harmony as he gets deeper and deeper in you, and it feels like you’re going to get split in two the further he goes. When you’re all the way down, he pulls you in for a deep kiss.

“Are you okay?” he breathes when your lips part.

“I’m okay,” you assure him. “You’re big."

“And you’re tight,” he smirks. “You good for me to move?”

“Oh, fuck, please.”

“Such good manners.”

With another kiss and a smile, Matt wraps his arms around you so your back is on the mattress and he’s hovering above you. You feel the sweet sting from the drag of his cock as he pulls out before pushing back in, testing and stretching you slowly as he starts to establish a rhythm. Your lips part as you feel more pleasure with each of Matt’s thrusts, one of your hands moving to his bicep and creating little crescent moons in his soft skin as he moves faster and faster.

“Right there,” you breathe. “Shit . . . Matt, yes, right there.”

“Good girl,” he hums. “So good taking my cock like that.”

“K-Kiss me,” you stutter, feeling your second orgasm approaching.

Looking at you tenderly, he leans down and kisses you long and slow, staying lower to keep little space between our bodies.

“You’re perfect,” he breathes, kissing your cheek. “So perfect.”

“Matt, ‘m close,” you whimper.

“Whenever you’re ready.” His hand cradles the side of your face, kissing you once more.

You bite your lip, stifling your moan as you come around Matt, your body clinging to his as he continues to move his hips, his skin flushing as he grunts, approaching his own release, spilling into the condom. He kisses you all over as your breathing steadies, pulling out and tossing the condom into the trash before wrapping you in his arms and kissing your wherever his lips can find skin.

“Matt,” you chuckle softly as he sucks marks into your collarbone.

“Shh,” he hums, kissing the marks to soothe them.

“Matt, it tickles!”

You feel his lips curl into a smile as he presses kisses up your neck. “I’ve always loved your laugh. This is just another way I can hear it.”

“And it’s another way I can see your smile.” You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You know, I bet if you give me enough time in between, we can use up all the condoms.”

“You think?”

“Nothing saying we can’t try.”

“Ambitious girl,” he smiles.

“It’s part of my charm. Why you like me. Why we work well together.”

“One of the reasons, yeah. There’s plenty of others, though.”

“Oh?”

“Mm.” He kisses your forehead. “I’ve got a whole list.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You giggle at the silence and look at him. “Are you gonna tell me any?”

Matt’s fingers trace aimless patterns on your skin. “I think you already know them, angel. But I’ll tell you one every day. Today, it’s your ambition. Tomorrow . . .” He lets out a breath. “It’ll be whatever feels right for me to point out.”

“Well, I’ve got a list, too. And right at the top is how safe you make me feel. How special you make me feel. How loved." You kiss his chest. "Tomorrow’s something might have to do with your nose.”

Matt’s expression is filled with tenderness, closing the gap between you once more, holding onto you and letting you rest right above his heart.

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