#he only acts like that to blur the lines and keep people away from his relationship with Phil | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vivysnights · 2 months

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

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

Click here for part 1

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

Yeah, I want it all (from you)

Bye, bye, baby

Bye, bye, bye~

⁀➴

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

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

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

(Yes, of course I will my darling)

⋆⭒˚｡⋆⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Blurring the lines between real and the fake

Dark and lonely, I need somebody to hold me

He will do very well

I can tell, I can tell

Keep me safe in his belltower hotel

He's loving my look

And I'm loving all his strategic ways

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

(Yes, of course I will, my darling)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"W-what are you doing?"

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

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

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

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

"My dearest, I wish you goodnight."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"My love..."

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

"My heart..."

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

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

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

" 'm tired" of you

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

"I know"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Eager, are we?"

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

"Mmph"

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

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

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

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

"So now tell me."

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

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

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

"Took of your bra."

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

"Keep them on, darling."

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

"My eyes are up here pretty."

He loved teasing you and making you a blushing mess.

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

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

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

"How about here?"

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

"N-never"

A hum vibrated through your ear.

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

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

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

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

"'M sorry."

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

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

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

"Then what about here, darling?"

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

"N-no Fyodor, never!"

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

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

"A-ahh"

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

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

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

"You taste divine, my dear."

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

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

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

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

He chuckles coldly.

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

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

"Mmph- Aah-ah—that—you know why."

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

"Well do I?"

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck Fedya, yes!"

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

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

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

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

"You gotta use your words, pretty."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Taglist: @sssarrrra @fyology @literatureloverx

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

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

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fatkish · 5 months

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JJK Boys x Mob Psycho Esper Reader

Since you’re an extremely powerful esper, you are classified as a special grade exorcist. You were originally discovered by Gojo when you used your powers to save a child from running into the street and getting hit by a car. Since you have always seen evil spirits and curses, you’ve never really questioned what you see, since it’s just natural to you. Gojo brought you to the academy and principal Yaga, after talking to the school’s directors, decided to have you live there. (because the clan elders are terrified and suspicious of your abilities)

Principal Yaga gave you a space for a garden since you explained how the emotional buildup from stress and extreme emotions can lead to a meltdown of your psychic powers. The garden acts as a sanctuary of sorts for you. When you aren’t answering calls or exorcising curses and spirits, you spend your time taking care of the plants. Eventually you meet the others and this is what they think of you.

Gojo:

Constantly asks you to show off your powers

Gets a kick out of seeing you use your power to exercise curses and spirits

Loves watching you explore what all your abilities can do

Thinks it’s perfectly fine that you choose when to and when not to use your powers

Tries to get you to show more emotion

When you accidentally bend spoons and other metal objects he offers to feed you like a child. “here comes the airplane” he’ll say that as he tries to feed you

When he saw you use your powers to grow plants he was interested in how the plants would taste only to be disappointed in the gross or bland flavor

Geto:

Thinks that you’re strong and that you should be his partner

Wants to see just how limitless your power is and what all you can do

Thinks that you are badass

Doesn’t understand why you don’t want to use your psychic abilities against people

Thinks it’s sad that you’ve locked away your emotions in order to keep from hurting people with your powers

He just gives you his spoon or unbends the one you bent

Loves seeing you grow plants especially flowers

Yuta:

Pure awe

Seeing your abilities is such an amazing experience for him

He thinks you’re incredibly talented and strong

Agrees that you shouldn’t use your psychic powers against people

He understands your fear of hurting people but is sad that you have difficulty showing emotion

Will offer to get you new cutlery if you bend them too bad

Thinks it’s amazing when he watches you bend the seeds to grow into plants

Inumaki:

Thinks your powers are pretty cool

Finds it interesting to see you use your abilities

He thinks your powers are strong and loves that you can somewhat read his mind or his emotions

Your powers make communication easier between you two

Understands your self imposed rule about not using your psychic powers against people

Understands and isn’t bothered by your seeming lack of emotions

Always carries wooden or plastic cutlery on him for you to eat with

Helps you with your personal garden and brings you new succulents and such to care for

Itadori:

What is this, is it magic, are you a wizard? Was his first reaction

Thinks it’s cool and loves when you use your powers to make him fly after he begs you to

Thinks there is no limit to what you can do and is always asking new questions and tries to make you do new things with them

Somewhat understands your rule about not using your powers on people but still what’s you to make him fly and such

Is somewhat bothered by the seemingly emotionless personality you developed by accident

Unbends the spoons and forks like it’s nothing

Is amazed at first and like Gojo, tries an apple he insisted you grow entirely by psychic power only to spit it out once he tasted how flavorless it was

Megumi:

Is probably the only person who understands why the line between the spirit world and living world is blurred for you since both are natural and normal to you

Is somewhat indifferent about your powers but is still amazed by your abilities

Thinks you’re very versatile in what you can do and admires your natural psychic and mental strength

Understands and agrees with your rule about not using your psychic powers on people

Doesn’t care about your seemingly emotionless personality because he knows why you developed it

When you accidentally bend spoons and such he’ll use his shadows to summon a new spoon for you

Also helps out in your garden at the school but mostly just wants to be in the peaceful atmosphere of the garden

#jjk x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #yuta x reader #yuta okkotsu #gojo satoru #geto suguru #toge inumaki #inumaki x reader #itadori x reader #yuji itadori #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

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Blurred Lines 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, power imbalance, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your relationship with your boss takes an unpredictable turn.

Characters: Nick Fowler

Note: double chapter day! Thank you to @alicedopey for the ask! I see you girl.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

Cotton drags over tinted skin, flecks it red catching along with the new blood trickling from the split. A hiss passes through clenched teeth despite your gentleness. The act reminds you of when your daughter was only six, crying over a scraped knee as you covered it with a Spongebob bandaid. You don't have any of the yellow strips now, just the roll of gauze and medical tape.

"Ah," Nick clenches his jaw again.

"Sorry," you murmur, "it needs pressure."

You push your thumb against the cotton and he winces, forcing a smile as he crackles out a chuckle.

"I can handle it, honey," he assures you as you hold the cotton above his brow, his other brilliant eye looking up at you. "Just like you handle me so well."

You don't respond. Your boss is a mercurial man. One moment, charming, the next rigid and ignitable. You've learned it's better to just go along with whatever mood he's chosen.

"Other guy looks worse," he remarks as you lift the cotton.

You nod, "I'm sure, sir."

He laughs again, closing his eyes with a sigh. He sits reclined in one of the leather armchair, his head tilted as you tend to him. It's after midnight. You're supposed to be at home sleeping. Your daughter's coming back from college for the weekend, you planned on brunch.

You sift out the box of slender steri-strips and bend over him, carefully sealing the gash above his brow. He's a handsome man. Objectively, you must admit it. Dangerous, too, but you don't wonder about the cuts and bruises. He has a shining badge that tells you more than enough.

"Hands of a goddess," he purrs as he opens his other eye again.

You stand and gather up the waste, packing away the medkit. You thank him plainly and fight the urge to look at the clock. You wad up the used gauze in your fist.

"Sir, is there anything else tonight?"

He lifts his head, both eyes on you now. He considers you as he sits straight and grips his knees. He stands and shrugs, spinning on his heel and striding to the mirror hung on the wall, just above the low table decorated with brass and oak.

"Did I interrupt you?" He asks as he checks his reflection. His left cheekbone is purpled and scraped.

"No, I was only sleeping," you say. You try not to let on that it doesn't come easy or often for you. It's not his concern.

"Mmm," he squints at himself and winces as it tugs at his wound. "Well, you can find an extra room here, drive back in the morning."

"That's kind, sir, but I'm okay," you back up, "I'll clean this up and go if there's nothing else."

"You'll just be back tomorrow," he turns and crosses his arms.

"Um, it's my day off, sir."

He clicks his tongue and nods, "forgot."

You force a small smile. No big deal.

"Got big plans then?"

You hesitate. He doesn't usually ask. You shake your head. You don't think he really cares.

"Would you like some scotch before I go then?"

He inhales, chest rising deeply before falling again. He drops his arms and slips his hands into his pockets. One tail of his shirt is untucked and his jacket is splotched with dark stains. He is sauvely unkempt.

"Sure," he grumbles as he paces before the artificial fireplace.

You dip your chin and leave him. You toss away the garbage and tuck away the kit. You wash your hands before you return to the den and take the thick-bodied decanter from the cabinet. He stands with one hand on the mantle as he stares at the floor.

You pour him a glass and bring it to him. He accepts it without looking up. You ask him if he wants the rest left out for him. He says it doesn't matter.

You bid him good night as he resumes his pensive trance. The adrenaline slakes away and now he's coming down. He'll be in for a good sleep, a lot better than your own. You'll be lucky to get a few hours before you're due to meet Josephine.

🥃

You smile across at your daughter. Every time you see her, she seems more grown up than the last. She has a pretty flower pin in her hair and her lips are glossed the perfect shade of rose. She reminds you of your age, both in a good way and a bad way.

You don't fail to notice the other looks in Josephine's direction. Joey, she corrected you when you picked her up. The changes in her make you feel stagnant. You suppose that comes with age too. You're done blossoming, you only have the wilting ahead of you.

"So, exciting," you say as you pinch the stem of your glass, a pair of mimosas between you as you await your entrees, "you got an internship."

"Um, yeah, it's not bad," she pushes her shoulders up, "my boss is okay, I guess."

"That's good, most bosses don't earn much more than 'eh' as a rating," you kid, "sorry, kiddo."

"Mom," she warns.

"I know, sorry," you correct yourself, "I'll try not to do it again."

You remember being her age. Caught in between adulthood and childhood, not wanting to be reminded of the latter.

"It's fine," she sighs, "I just... I'm trying to be a grown-up, you know?"

"Oh, you've got lots of time for that, Miss Lawyer," you trill, "you are very grown up. You know that, don't you? I'm so proud of you."

"Still got a far way to go," she sips from her own glass. You couldn't have ever imagined your daughter with prosecco sparkling in her hand, but there she is. You almost can't believe she's yours. "Let's talk about you. That's a lot less stressful."

"Ha, but boring," you roll your eyes. "You know, same old."

"Oh, trust, I could tell by the dark circles."

"Oof, you did not," you cackle, "Josephine-- Joey."

"You should try some vitamin C cream--"

"Don't," you warn her with a point across the table.

She giggles and her eyes flit around. There's something else. Something she's not telling you. But she wants to.

"What's going on?" you prompt.

"This is such a nice place," she looks at the table and fidgets, "thanks for breakfast, mom..."

"But..." you add on.

"I... hate to ask but..."

"You need money," you utter, "that's okay. We can make it work. What's it for?"

"Books," she says, "I kinda ran out before I could buy them all, so..."

"That's okay. I'll see if I can't get a few extra hours at work then."

As if he could hear the very allusion to his existence, your phone flashes with a private caller. It's Nick. It's only ever him. You flip the phone down to hid the call.

"Take it," your daughter insists, "it's fine."

"No, it isn't. It's my day off. It's our day," you say, "it can wait."

She smiles. She's so pretty. You can't help but feel inadequate next to her; your own daughter. She's young and vibrant and you're wearing a blouse you bought a decade ago that squeezes your middle a bit too tight.

"Like I said, I'm boring," you sit forward, "tell me about the good stuff. The juicy stuff. Any boys-- or, men?"

"Mom," she snipes.

"What? I gotta live vicariously through you."

She rolls her eyes, "no."

You laugh. You always loved teasing her. She's hard-nosed and too focused to worry about the piddly troubles caused by boys. Or...

"Any girls?"

She looks at you with fire in her eyes. Ah, that's it.

"What's her name?" You goad.

"No, it's nothing. We're not even-- I mean, there's no one," she takes another gulp of her mimosa.

"Sureeee," you drag out the word teasingly, "how many more of those to spill?"

"Enough," she warns, "what about you, huh? You seeing anyone besides your soap operas?"

Now it's your turn to frown, "no," you answer evenly, "I... don't think that's in the cards for me, honey."

"Mom, it's okay," she softens her voice, "dad wouldn't... he would want you to be happy."

"Mm, he would, but he was my happy," you bat your lashes against the singeing heat. "I'm okay, really."

"You deserve someone," she says. "You don't have to be alone."

"I am alone, doesn't mean I'm lonely," you deflect. "Anyway, let's enjoy this. I don't get enough of you."

"Alright, twist my arm, I'll settle for free mimosas and a breakfast bowl," she gives a snarky grin.

You smile. She's the hope you have left. You hope that she never goes through the same pain again. One loss is enough for both of you.

🥃

Joey orders and Uber and you sidle in next to her. You clutch your phone over your purse as the haze of the mimosas fogs in your vision. You may have indulged a bit much.

Your phone shines and you look down. 'Private'.

"I see what you mean about bosses," Joey chides.

"It's not-- not a big deal," you dismiss the call.

"Mom, maybe it's an emergency," she sniffs, "he's been calling a lot."

"He's an adult, I just sweep up his crumbs," you wave her off.

Your phone lights up once more. You're starting to get paranoid. Still, you have to maintain boundaries. Today is your day off.

You exhale and sit back. You watch the city smear by and yawn. The restless night tingles on your eyelids.

Finally, you get to your apartment and slump out of the Uber. You stop as Joey helps you tip the driver with the app and you carry on into the lobby of your building. The feeling of the world passing you by lingers beyond the car ride.

Upstairs, you get Joey settled into the room you haven't changed since she left. She puts her bag on the bed and hangs out in the living room as you put on a pot of coffee. It's too early to be this tipsy. You yawn and your phone once more comes to life.

You swipe it up and tell Joey to help herself to the coffee as you sweep out of the room. You head down the hall and step into your bedroom as you answer, "Mr. Fowler."

"You're busy?" Nick asks.

"It's my day off," you say firmly.

"Yes, we talked about that."

You're quiet. Confused. You try to recall the last time he bothered you outside of work. When you're not being paid for it, you never really hear from him.

"Is something going--" you stop and suppress a hiccup. It's more dehydration than the alcohol. "On?"

"I have guests coming," he says, "thought you might like some overtime."

"Oh, sir, I'm sorry, but--"

"Clearly you're disposed," he says tersely. Is he mad?

"I wasn't expecting--"

"It's fine. It was an offer. I can manage on my own."

"Of course, sir, I wouldn't--"

You flinch as the line cuts and the call goes dead with a bloop. You pull the phone away from your face and furrow your brow. Really? He hung up on you.

You toss your phone on the bed. Whatever. Forget him. Even if you weren't three glasses deep, you wouldn't leave Joey just to kowtow to his pretentious friends.

#nick fowler #dark nick fowler #dark!nick fowler #nick fowler x reader #the 355 #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #blurred lines

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pookietv · 2 months

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jealousy, jealousy | arthur hill

okay i am very proud of this pls do not let her flop!!

you had decided that you and arthur were a riddle, wrapped in a mystery inside an enigma, or whatever the saying was.

you had liked him for the longest time, hiding it pretty well from your mutual friend group, trying your desperate best to keep it under wraps in an attempt to preserve your friendship.

that was, until, a night out where you had both had a little too much to drink, and the night had become a blur. at least, you pretended it had become a blur.

in reality, arthur was so sweet to you and you had savoured it and immortalised it in your own memory, aware that it may be the only time. his arm wrapped lazily on top of your stomach, a comfort in the weight, his head resting opposite yours. his other hand intertwined in your hair, fingers gently soothing strands of your hair down, moving in rhythmic strokes.

his aftershave a blend of a sweeter mix, something cedar like. the dim yellowed light that could weave it's way through his blinds. his breathing was slowed and steady, the gentle hum of traffic from the open window an afterthought.

you had allowed yourself to trace the smaller lines of his face with your eyes, the smaller marks you usually wouldn't see, focused on his parted lips, a slight smile playing on them, as all you could think about was how gentle he was when he placed kisses on you, like you would break, on your forehead, cheek, collarbone, and that you could feel his mustache tickle your skin wherever he pressed himself.

his slight habit of drawing on exposed skin, the pad of his finger running lazily up and down your neck, and you closed your eyes for a moment, made you silently will that if god was real that he would permit moments to be frozen.

so when arthur suggested that for the preservation of your friendship, you should probably both pretend it didn't happen, it was all you could do not to scream at him that he was all you wanted and it was cruel of him to show you such love and then deprive you of it.

but it was arthur, and you wanted him to be happy. so if ignoring anything happened made him happy, you swallowed down your feelings and nodded.

it had been two months since, and you had tried your best to just bury it, act how you always had around him - close friends, and ignore your feelings towards him like you always had.

you guys had agreed to go out to a bar, both arthurs, george, chris and bach, since it was a friday night and you hadn't done anything in a while.

so there you were, sat in a booth, sipping possibly your fourth vodka cocktail, yapping to chris incoherently about some bird documentary he had recently watched over the loud music.

"did you do something different with your hair?" you asked chris, cocking your head slightly as you looked at him.

he furrowed his eyebrows slightly and shook his head with a grin, "no, why?"

you shrugged, "just looks nice, thought it looked different or something. whatevers different suits you," you said, before turning to the conversation that arthurtv and bach had become engaged in. you had noticed arthur hadn't said much the whole night, had sat pretty quietly drinking his pints, then moved onto spirits and had been drinking them just as quickly.

you tapped george on the shoulder, squeezing him slightly to get his attention, and he turned to you with a slightly drunk smile.

you whispered slightly to him, gesturing to other arthur, "do you think arthur's been a little quiet tonight?" i said, and george nodded a little.

"yeah, he hasn't said too much, has he? wouldn't worry about it too much, he's probably just tired, i heard him plodding around the apartment late last night," george responded, also whispering, and i nodded in response, giggling a little.

i looked over to other arthur, giving him a small smile, almost like a non-verbal 'are you okay', but his eyebrows just furrowed slightly back at you, before he looked away.

people got drunker as the drinks kept flowing, and whilst the boys were engaging in their zestiest activity with each other, as they often did whilst drunk, you couldn't help but laugh at them as you swayed along, clearly not as energised as they were, with george singing lyrics in your face as a motivator to get involved with their buzzed dancing, so you did giggling and singing along, being able to smell the beer from him as you danced.

still, arthur was barely involved, swaying himself slightly to seem into it but you could tell something was wrong.

so when he excused himself to go to the bar, you not long followed behind him, finding him with his fresh drink, still just leaning against the bar, not in any hurry to return to the group.

you tapped him lightly on the shoulder, your face soft with concern as he turned to look at you, his face still stone like and stern looking.

"arthur? you've been quiet all night, everything okay?" you asked, speaking loud enough for him to hear you over the music but tone still soft with care.

"mhm. i'm fine," he responded dryly, taking another drink of the disaronno and coke, which you only knew he was drinking as you could smell the sweetened almond from him.

"you sure? 'cause you don't seem great, and i don't want you to be uncomfortable if you're not feeling it, i mean-" you said softly, on your tip toes now so you could speak without shouting to arthur, leveling to his height.

"surprised you even noticed anything was up." he murmured, tone slightly bitter.

you furrowed your eyebrow slightly, quirking your head as you rested back on your heels, "what'd'you mean?" you asked, still calm toned but curious now at the snarky comment he had just made.

"just forget about it, don't wanna do this right now in the middle of a busy bar," he practically hissed out, and you had to pause for a moment.

"do what? what, sorry, arthur? i-i don't understand?" you said, clear confusion written across your face.

"oh of course you don't understand, cause you've done nothing, right?" he bit back, almost sounding vicious.

you were taken aback by his bluntness, the way his eyes had hardened when they fixated on you. your mind was racing as you tried to think of what to say, or decipher what he meant.

she hadn't seen arthur like this, ever. kind, easygoing arthur who was always the first to make her smile if she was upset, had suddenly become some stranger.

"arthur... what are you talking about?" you managed to murmur out, bewildered by his sudden anger at me.

he took a deep breath, his eyes still hardened, "you know exactly what i'm talking about," he spat out, looking down at you for a moment, "the way you flirt with everyone, like it's some twisted game or joke. it's fucking annoying."

"i... are you serious? i haven't been flirting with anyone, i've been friendly." you said, feeling a slight surge of anger but trying your best to keep yourself level, more feeling confusion and hurt.

"friendly, really? so complimenting chris all night, dancing and telling secrets with george and letting arthur buy you drinks all night is friendly?" he snapped back, taking another swig of his drink.

"yes, it's fucking friendly! you usually act the exact same around me, it's nothing! arthur bought me a couple of drinks to be nice, i was dancing with george because he noticed i wasn't joining in," you retorted back, your breathing slightly heavier, "i haven't done anything wrong and you're being mean to me for no reason," you murmured under your breath.

"god, you're infuriating, do you know that? y-you're a complete headfuck!" he snapped back.

you felt stunned. he was angry at you, over what exactly? the air felt thick, heavy and charged, and you could feel the beat of the music on the floor of the bar, feeling your eyes welling up slightly, blinking as quick as you could in an effort to hold tears back. "you're being ridiculous, arthur," you finally managed to say, your voice slightly trembling.

"i'm being ridiculous? you know what i'm talking about, it's like you're trying to provoke something," he scoffed, his voice ever so slightly softened, possibly due to the obvious distress on your face.

you sighed, and stopped yourself from looking up at him, instead looking at the floor for a moment, before turning around and letting yourself leave.

the bar only felt smaller and smaller, and you desperately needed air, as soon as you got outside, you let yourself lean against the wall, breathing deeply in hopes to stop tears rolling down your face.

arthur had watched you walk away, seeing your small frame slightly hunched and your head low, feeling a sharp pang of guilt. he finished his drink in a large gulp, taking a deep breath, he knew he had to go out, face the music and make things right.

he weaved through the crowd, focused on getting outside to find wherever you had headed, as soon as he turned the corner and out the door, he saw you leaned against the wall, fingers threaded through your own hair, and felt his chest ache at the sight of you so worked up.

"i'm sorry. i know i was being a dick." arthur's eyes softened, voice barely above a whisper as she looked up to him, her eyes still wide and welled with tears.

"you were." you said softly, your own voice small and simple.

his head hung low, "i-i just felt jealous."

"jealous?" you murmured, barely able to make eye contact with him, eyes instead scanning the street.

his face flushed slightly in embarrassment, "i-i know its stupid, i couldn't help it. since, uh, when we got together, every time i see you just being sweet and funny around everyone i get like, a stupid jealous feeling. and i know that's no ones fault but my own, cause i was the one who told you to act like nothing happened, so i know i had no right to be angry even if you were flirting with anyone, but i just... suppose i was worried about messing anything up," he paused, almost bating his breath, "thought i would just forget about it and it would pass by but... yeah, i couldn't really forget about it."

"oh." you paused for a moment, letting your eyes wander from the street to him, his apology hanging in the air. "i liked you before we got together, you know? sounds silly, but the morning we woke up together, i had really thought we would be... something. i don't know, it was the first time i felt like someone showed me affection, real affection. then you said we should probably just forget about it and it took every muscle in my body to smile and pretend to agree that that was for the best." you said quietly, slightly embarrassed by the admission, but you felt like it was just something you had to get off your chest.

"i don't know why i ever said that." arthur admitted, his voice slightly deeper and quieter, swallowing a thick lump in his throat, "do you want to know something? i don't like waking up next to people, or sleeping in beds with people. not usually, anyway. but i don't know, you were just there and it felt like all i wanted to do was look at you or play with your hair and trace outlines on your skin. i know i sound silly right now."

"you don't sound silly." you reassured. "it's nice to hear. i figured you didn't like it, and that's why we pretended it didn't happen."

"please, can we.. you know, forget that we ever tried to forget it happened? i don't want to pretend it didn't happen. i'd like to take you out, and be domestic with you again."

"i'd like that a lot."

#arthurhill #arthur hill #arthurhill x reader #arthur hill x reader #arthur hill imagine

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darkestspring · 2 months

Note

Can you do Yanmom + Rhaenyra + Yandad Daemon with dragon seed reader daughter of daemon who rides the cannibal with Yandere Lucerys + Yandere Rhaena as fiancée?

you were rhaenyra's first child, her beloved daughter who she loved above everything else. she loved all her children equally but you were special, a lovely child who she wanted to protect. you reminded her of her mother so much, so she had to protect you from wicked vultures and unkind people.

she kept you close to her, instructing jace and luke to protect you despite being three years older than luke and a year older than jace. they acted as rabid guard dogs, always keeping people away from you.

both of your brother's were very fond of you, the same way your mother way, you didn't get along with any nobles, so this was normal in your eyes. If jace and luke ended up maiming someone in their pursuit of protecting you, then that person probably deserved it in your eyes.

You remained dragonless, your dragon egg never hatching which had saddened you, that was until dragonstone. You were sad to see Ser Harwin go, you liked him a lot, he always spent time with the three of you when your mother wasn't there. But dragonstone was beautiful.

It was long after you moved there that you encountered the cannibal while exploring. You were curious as you approached him. He raises his head and let out a snorting sound as he looked back down.

"Good boy." You murmured in valyrian, your hand rubbing against his scales softly. He didn't protest, a purring sound leaving his chest. You beamed up at him.

He let you mount him and ride him, everyone was amazed and terrified by it, luke eagerly approached you, hands clinging to your clothes, making cannibal stare at him before letting out a growled sound that smoothed into a purr as you pet him.

Cannibal might not have been the oldest but he was your lovely boy.

Daemon couldn't stop staring at you, even throughout all of the funeral as luke held your hand, you were looking after jace and luke. You looked so much like rhaenyra, but you looked like him too. it was hard to miss but rhaenyra looked away from him, he watched her murmur something to you and you guided luke and jace towards his daughters.

Luke wasn't sure when it started, the incessant need for you approval, the thought that he'd even kill someone if only you'd smile at him and always be by his side. He loved you, he didn't want you to be with anyone else.

Aemond had become interested in you, so he followed along with the prank of him with the pig just to make sure aemond's interest stopped. he would never be worthy of you, no one was but him. His mother had already said he could marry you. You were his sister, he would always protect you, and he'd marry you and live a happy life. if he had to deal with aemond, so be it.

the next time line of events confused you. You were sleeping with luke when you were woken up by jace, baela, and rhaena. your mother had told you to help them, to comfort them as they were your cousins so when they said there was trouble, you got out of your bed and followed after them.

after the first hit you took for baela, everything was blurry, your head hit on a rock, you barely made out luke's rage and him injuring aemond.

a maester was looking over your bleeding head as your vision blurred when your mother rushed in, daemon coming in after her, not that you noticed.

She gasped, calling out your name as she noticed you were bleeding more than your younger brothers. "Let me see," She urged, eyeing the blood trailing down your forehead.

It was a blur of events, you later learned that alicent tried to hurt your mother and then have you betrothed to aemond, which she deflected by engaging you to luke.

It wasn't a bad series of events. your brothers and cousins clung to you a little tighter now.

"You got hurt for me." Baela muttered, looking guilty as bandages were wrapped around your head.

"I'll be fine. as long as everyone's fine, then it was worth it." You assured her, glancing towards Rhaena as she held on to your hand.

Rhaena got the feeling of wanting to kill aemond. he hurt you, you who protected them and comforted them. How dare he?

Rhaena would kill him one day, she swore it.

#yandere concepts #yanmom rhaenyra #yandad daemon #i also love writing yanparents and yansiblings its so fun

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kumabeom · 2 months

Text

saudade love 🫧

episode six : we’ll make it through, just like we always do.

synopsis : actress!yn and actor!soobin are forced by their companies to date as a publicity stunt to promote their latest releases. however what’s to happen when yn and soobin spend more and more time together even though yn’s closest friend is keeping secrets.

soobin’s lips stayed on yours, your back finding the wall. mind completely focused on the boy in front of you, forgetting that this was all an act. no longer caring for the camera that was filming the two of you.

this.

this is what you’ve wanted.

you’ve just wanted attention from none other than choi soobin. something about working with him was different. something about him made your heart flutter at the pure thought of doing the things that the script required you to do.

at one point, you began to blur the lines between acting and your true feelings. so what if your character had feelings towards soobin’s character, it didn’t mean that you were forbidden to feel the same way.

your hand came down to linger underneath his chin, nearly as an expression to invite him in. somehow pulling him closer than he already was. his teeth tugging on your bottom lip. your ears finally hearing your director’s voice. pulling away from soobin, only to catch sight of his exasperated facial expression. your confused face didn’t help you in the slightest but apparently worked for the film as a ‘great reaction’.

in all honesty, you wanted to get out of the situation as quick as possible, feeling nearly embarrassed from the whole thing. cheeks feeling hot, throat beginning to feel a little tight. you went over to monitor your performance. even though you were completely flushed, you managed to stay professional. however, a bit stammered when you were confronted by soobin.

“i think we did a really good job on that! you really helped me so much during that scene..” soobin exclaims, a gummy grin being sent your way.

“i did ? i thought i was going too far, sorry.” you apologized, which warmed soobin’s heart, he’d never received an apology from anyone who he’s worked with. everyone just assumed that actors were okay with the things that they went through during filming. it never really mattered if you felt like your boundaries were being ignored, afterall you did ‘sign up for it.’

“it’s all okay, you really did help, i didn’t know how to lead the scene even though i was supposed to and i feel like you just helped me so much. you made me seem like i was in full control even if i wasn’t.”

saudade love was nothing out of the ordinary, it was a romantic movie with an angsty ending. however, it felt completely new to you. the amount of intimacy was not that overwhelming, but you certainly did feel like it was. the most intimate the movie got was as far as a casual little make out session. but it just felt like a little bit too much for you. and you would’ve complained, but soobin was a rather kind person to work with. he never made you feel uncomfortable… and maybe that’s where your feelings for him began to root from.

your head turned as you heard a knock at your door. looking around to make sure that your room looked decently clean, which it did. there wasn’t much of a mess to make since it wasn’t your literal home. you got up from your bed, going over to the door to see soobin waiting right outside.

“oh, hey.” you greet, sharing a warm smile.

“hey, i just wanted to make sure you were okay.. y’know, after the rumor and all.. i know it was not true and all.. but y’know a lot of people are leaving comments and i know it’s not the most comfortable situation.” soobin says, trying to read your face even though there was nothing to really read.

to be fair, you were one who cared about what other people think. you knew your job came with a lot of criticism but it wasn’t something that you could get used to. even when there were a lot of people who didn’t like you, due to the simple idea of your success, it still bothered you. what had you ever done to deserve all the cruel words thrown your way. “i mean, im probably one of the few people who would know if it’s true or not..”

“im doing fine, soobin.” however, said boy knew very well that you weren’t fine. especially after you had explained to him that you so clearly cared about what others thought of you. but he also didn’t know what to do, how to comfort you without crossing your boundaries. even with the way you spoke it made him feel like he wasn’t really invited in. which you really didn’t mean to make him feel like, but each time you went through something like this, it was bound to happen.

“are you free ?” he asked, only receiving a small nod in return. he pulled his hand out, silently asking for your hand to wrap around his own. which you did, trusting him. your cheeks began to flush, having no idea why he necessarily had to hold your hands. “would you like to watch 10 things i hate about you with me ?”

“umm.. yeah, of course.” you smiled, attempting to prevent any kind of stuttering that was trying to occur. soobin was blinded. so blinded to the point that even if he tried to read you, it wasn’t working. his own heart pattering against his chest. oh would taehyun have a good laugh at seeing the boy so down bad for jung yn, his own costar.

soobin was typically professional. but at one point, it was an impossible situation. from lovers in saudade love, to pretend lovers in real life. the world was your set, and the two of you were doing an over the top job at your task at hand. there was no way the two of you weren’t going to eventually catch feelings, it just happened much quicker than expected.

and you, well everyone knew you were down bad. especially after you claimed that you wanted to marry soobin someday in the future. even if it was an accident, it was your true feelings.

soobin really didn’t have a reason to hold your hand, he just wanted to, so he went for it. and if you knew the thoughts going on in his head, you couldn’t blame him for shooting his shot.

and maybe with soobin’s words that defended you last night, it only made you fall harder, feel weaker against your beating heart. he was there to protect you. and you believed so hard that it was just words for your promotion project, but you didn’t know it was soobin’s true feelings.

he wouldn’t be here standing in front of you if he didn’t mean it. of course like an absolute lovesick fool, the idea of soobin caring for you never really crossed your mind.

“great! i can set it up in the living room, if you’d like to bring any blankets or snacks..” soobin loosened his grip on your hand before moving his hand back to his side. going to your shared living room, and setting up the movie. you tried to move as quick as your brain could let you, grabbing two of the softest throw blankets you had access to and making your way to the living room. placing them down on the couch, and moving to the kitchen to heat up popcorn.

your head rested upon soobin’s shoulder. a flustered blush resting on his cheeks, noticing the way your eyes were closed. mouth slightly ajar, unknowingly snuggling closer to him. soobin knew how much you had gone through throughout the past few days and he was happy to see you sleeping so well. sometimes during the night, he was awake, only to hear you moving around the apartment. he would hear the refrigerator door open and close.

soobin paused the movie, not really caring about it. he never did, but he just wanted a good excuse to spend time with you. and watching your favorite movie was the perfect excuse. soobin fought the constant urge to just press a small kiss onto your cheek, knowing that it was weird to kiss someone, who he wasn’t even dating, while they were asleep.

soobin got up, placing a gentle hand onto your cheek, before letting your head slump down a little. carrying your body into your bedroom. and as much as he didn’t want to burst into your room, he also didn’t want you to sleep in such a compromising position for your neck. he wouldn’t be able to sleep if he knew that he left you in such an aching position. your eyes fluttering open only to shut themselves once again. soobin gently placed your body onto your bed. your hands reaching out for his once you were in the bed, successfully grabbing onto his finger.

soobin couldn’t help but let out a small giggle. finding your habit of clutching onto something so very cute. soobin couldn’t leave, no.. he couldn’t leave not with you holding his finger so preciously. he took a seat on your bed. admiring the way that you were so pretty while you slept. he had never felt this way. from a young age, soobin knew to not develop any feelings towards his co stars..

and it typically worked, so why were you so different from the others. he’s worked in the romantic genre quite a handful of times and he’s never felt so pressured from his heart. he recalls the time that the two of you were practicing a scene together.

you looked over to soobin’s side of the room, his heart racing the more you gave him your attention. you walked over to him, sharing your nicest smile.

“hey.” you greeted, everything was still so new, the first few days of filming. barely having read the script until the other day. you hadn’t realized what you had signed up for. even receiving a call in the middle of the night from your manager, telling you about the pr stunt that you would have to eventually partake in.

“hello.” soobin shared the same kind smile, the two of you watching as a few things on the set were being tweaked and messed around with. “oh also, can you help me with a scene ? i don’t know how i’ll be able to do it..”

and with his simple request, you ended up in his trailer, in his lap.. with your lips against his.

his hands wrapped tightly against yours as you tried your best to manage yourself. soobin letting go of your hands only to wrap them around your waist, as you let your fingers go down to his chin, lifting his lips up towards yours. heavy breathing, but the two of you refused to let each other go.

however all you heard was the sound of the doorknob twisting and you were off of soobin, sitting right next to him. watching as yeji walked right inside of his trailer. nearly confused about your presence just as she was about yours.

“oh yn !! did you hear ?” she exclaimed taking a seat right next to you, stealing your attention from soobin. “i’m doing the ost for saudade love !!”

“you are !?” you asked, happily exclaimed. you held on to yeji’s hands, “that’s great !!”

“yes it is !! i thought i would come tell you in person since we’re kinda like co workers.” yeji stated, still giving no explanation as to why she walked into soobin’s trailer first.

©️kumabeom

an: so soobin has reciprocating feelings 😁 and what’s up with yeji ? 🤨 omg and song kang in sweet home 3 ?? he looks so pretty like 🤭😞

taglist (send asks !) : @run2seob @soobadooba @mrsyawnzzn @matcha-binz @taehyhunnzly @20crowsinahoodie @lun4kazumii @lunathewritingcat @wonjws @enzos-shit @missychief1404 @304blur @coconutjjun @theycallmelolla @girlz4jaem @everythingvirgoes @pinkhor1zon @nshitae @damn-u-min-yoongi @jiweok @wonderstrucktae @thing89

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hongcherry · 14 days

Note

Saw this and I could NOT pass this up🤌🏼, writing toooo good to not send in a request still haven't got over the Christmas gift fic you wrote me with YunGi🤪

So can I get this based around Woozi please😔🙏🏼, the lack of Woozi fics is CRIMINAL! With the dialogue being #2, emotion I, and the setting the alleyway being a dive bar.

I will take anythingggggg, angsty, happy, sad, truly ANYTHING. I’m thirsty for any Woozi crumbs I can get😔😔 please and thank you bestie😚😚xoxo

omg DDD: LOOK AT YOU BEING ACTIVE AGAIN 💖 hello hello bae! AND DON'T BE NICE TO ME. IDK HOW TO ACT *throws hearts aggressively* but tysm for supporting me huhuhuhuuh 😫 and ty for sending in a request! i hope u like it, my cheese lover 3000 🧀

Pairing: musician!Jihoon/Woozi x Reader G/AUs: Angst, friends to lovers, non-idol au TWs: None but ofc lmk <3 WC: 1.2k A/N: Barely proofread so no judgment plzzzzz ;c

Prompt: “what they said back there. is it true?” + confusion + an alleyway behind a dive bar

Build a fic! ✨

seventeen masterlist | main masterlist

this blog is 18+. minors do not interact. plz & ty! (ageless/minors/blanks blogs will be blocked)

The winter air bites into you as soon as you push past the dive bar’s door. The chilliness makes you want to take a U-turn back into the building, but you know the heat from indoors won’t help. Not when your source of warmth still sits inside.

People mill about the sidewalks, some dressed casually and others dolled up. No one gives you a second glance as they walk by. It makes it easy to slip into the alleyway unnoticed—hoping for some privacy as you gather your thoughts.

He’s leaving.

In one week, Jihoon will be across the country, chasing his dreams that don’t include you.

There’s a gallon of guilt sloshing in your chest from not being over the moon for his opportunity. However, it doesn’t compare to the sea you’re treading in from knowing this is it for you both.

You won’t get the chance to love and be loved by him.

Not in the way you want.

You slump against the brick wall, arms wrapped around yourself to fight the cold.

You know there are still opportunities to keep in contact, but it won’t be the same. You won’t be able to feel his arms around you or his lips on yours. Maybe if traveling wasn’t so expensive, you could find the silver lining.

“Hey.”

The familiar voice makes your head snap up; your hold on your jacket tightens in surprise.

Jihoon stands at the entrance of the alleyway with his hands stuffed in his pockets. He looks hesitant.

Emotions try to clog your throat, but you force them down so you can speak.

“What they said back there. Is it true?” you ask, voice strained.

Jihoon glances to the side briefly while he answers, “Yes.”

He slowly makes his way closer. Each step brings forth an equal weight of pain and happiness. Being around Jihoon used to bring a smile to your face instantly, but now, your heart just aches.

“You didn’t tell me,” you state.

“I did,” he answers slowly. He stops a few feet away, hands still in his pockets.

“You said you’d be gone for two weeks, not two years,” you scoff.

He exhales a deep breath. You watch it swirl in the air from the cold weather instead of seeing the mix of excitement and guilt on his face.

“It was only going to be two weeks, but they really like my works and wanted me to sign a contract,” he explains.

You turn away when you see your vision blurring. Staring at him reminds you of what you’re about to lose.

“I was going to tell you in private tonight,” he adds.

“What else were you going to tell me?” You force the question out.

“What do you mean?”

You glance at him finally. He’s standing an arm’s length away now.

“Were you going to tell me I meant nothing to you? That you’re sorry for leaving me, but I should be happy about it?”

“Fuck, Yn, you have no idea how hard this decision was for me,” he sighs out, slight frustration laced in his words.

“Enlighten me, Jihoon, because right now, it feels like you knew there was never going to be an ‘us’.”

He winces at your words, hands digging deeper in his pockets like he’s trying to find the right words to make you feel better. You already know he’ll come up empty.

“That’s not true,” he says belatedly.

“No? How long did you know about this new contract of yours? How long were you waiting to tell me ‘privately’? A week? Two?” you ask, voice raising in anger.

The more you talk, the more conflicted he looks. You know you’re not making this easy on him, but the devil on your shoulder wants him to feel the heartache you’re feeling.

“Do you not remember how two weeks ago we were on your couch and I told you I love you? I love you, Jihoon, and you’re just going to lea—”

Jihoon kisses you hard.

He holds your face in his hands, grip tight enough to keep you steady but not enough to hurt. Your heart hammers in your chest.

He puts all the emotions and messages he can’t convey into the kiss. It’s so overwhelming that you want to pull away, but you persist because it means you can have him a little longer.

The second you feel him begin to pull away, your hands reach up to grip his wrists.

He stares down, so you can’t see his face.

“I’d ask for you to wait for me, but that’s not fair,” he says. You can hear the sorrow in his voice. Although you wanted him to feel it too, you also can’t help but hurt more knowing he’s not happy. “Maybe once I get a few paychecks I can fly you out. Maybe… Maybe if you still love me when I come back, we can make it work.”

“Why can’t we make it work now?” You nearly plead.

He sighs and shakes his head. His hair tickles your forehead.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You will your knees not to give out in realization. There’s no changing his mind.

Your hands on his wrists ease.

Jihoon looks up, eyes filled with desperation for you not to go.

“Let’s head back inside. You’re cold,” he murmurs, hands slipping from your face to hold your hands.

Before you can try to protest, he’s leading you back inside toward your friends.

Your body instantly feels grateful for the warmer temperature, but what’s really heating your body is Jihoon’s hand in yours.

His comforting touch spreads from your joint hands and spreads throughout your body. It’s a feeling you want to shove away, but you force yourself to not. You only have a few days left of his presence, and you should enjoy it.

Jihoon’s not a fan of PDA, but tonight he pushes his own boundaries. He drapes an arm around your shoulders, hand lazily gliding up and down your arm as he interacts with your friends.

You can’t help but lean into his firm body, allowing yourself these few hours to pretend everything’s okay.

It’s self-torture to have his notifications on. It’s been almost four months since he’s left and all you can do is check his socials. He’s not too active so when he is, you cherish it.

Although you’ve tried to keep in contact, hectic schedules and time zones make it difficult. You wonder if he still thinks of you as much as you think of him.

Then as if to answer your question, your phone dings.

woozi_universefactory made a new post. Check it out!

His first official song, “Loved You First,” has been released.

While tears stain your cheeks as you listen, another ding emits from your phone.

Jihoon: 🖤

You chuckle at the simple message, wiping away your tears as your heart replaces forlorn with hope.

He said he wouldn’t ask you to wait for him, but you should fight for what you want—for who you want.

You push down the doubt and channel the hope you felt while listening to his song. Nothing will stop you from trying to make this work.

Not the distance, the time zones, or the schedules.

After all, who said love is easy?

Taglist: @musingsofananxiouspotato, @christinewithluv, @lockburn-castle, @iammisstora, @maknae00, @morklee02, @kittyhui, @aeerio, @cherrylovescheol

©️hongcherry // DO NOT REPOST OR MODIFY Please consider reblogging if you liked this work to show your support. Feedback/commentary is always welcomed.

#svt fanfic #svt angst #woozi fanfic #woozi angst #svt woozi #svt jihoon #jihoon angst #jihoon fanfic #svt x reader #seventeen fanfic #seventeen angst #woozi x reader #requests #flowers for bambi 💐

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zvdvdlvr · 10 months

Text

— Are You Gonna Kiss Me, or What?

🎵 synopsis. Mike’s normal, utterly boring day is pleasantly interrupted by a diabetic whirlwind.

🎵 warnings. Finger pricking. Foul language.

🎵 author’s note. Shoutout to @paxamillius for writing this with me and for helping me write a realistic diabetic character.

🎵 tracklist. <Track One.> <Track Two.> <Track Three.>

—— 👾

mike shook his head, re-reading the sequence of numbers written in small, practised handwriting. a small smile pulled at his lips. despite having already memorized the number and how to spell your name, he kept glancing down at the slip of paper and running his thumb over the now-smudging pen ink.

with abby already asleep, mike debates if he should call or not. he doesn’t want to wake abby, but he really wants nothing more than to keep talking with the woman that (quite literally) fell into his arms.

mike exhaled. as long as he was quiet he supposed he could stay up and talk to her- y/n. y/n l/n.

slowly mike dialed her phone number; already imagining her voice from the other line.

the line didn’t ring twice before she picked up. “hello?” she answered, her voice having that smile that mike swears made the sun shine a little brighter.

“uh, hi. this- this is y/n, right? it’s-“ mike started, tripping over his words.

“mike! mike schmidt from the mall, yeah?”

another smile: wider this time though. mike beamed. “yeah, that’s me. mike from the mall.”

——👾; 6 hours earlier

the world was spinning, blurring. y/n cursed herself once again for her forgetfulness- she had a tendency to completely ignore her health until something like this happens.

y/n’s blood sugar was extremely low. she knew she needed something fast acting: juice, fruit snacks, soda… a slushie even. but with the way y/n could function, ordering something for herself would be out of the question.

maybe walking blindly into someone will help, was y/n’s rationale. so she carefully walked the best she could to someone, occasionally slamming into a bench or counter.

y/n’s head was spinning. she cursed her pancreas for failing to do it’s one and only job.

"oh dear lord," y/n mumbled. her legs struggled to keep her upright, let alone get her anywhere. her vision was fuzzy and the edges faded in and out, black dots swimming in her line of sight. y/n cursed herself- yet again- for being as careless as she was.

getting a few weird stares and several people backing away from y/n, someone finally approached her.

"are you drunk?" a blob- man?- asked . "ma'am, consumption of alcohol and being under the influence is not permitted inside of the mall, so i'm going to have to-"

"nononono, ‘m notdrunk…" y/n's words were sloppy and rushed. Hoping and praying he believed her, she wobbled a little bit on her feet.

Her body was trembling from the adrenaline and her legs desperately threatened to come out from underneath her. "im… diabetic," she paused, swallowing. "imhaving a hypoglycemia episode." sweat trickled down the back of her neck, making her wince at the feeling. "i need… i need food, like, now, beforeipassout, andgo intoa coma" y/n took a deep breath.

the man looked around. y/n was getting weaker by the second. her legs still felt like toothpicks and jello, with nothing left to support her. "i need… i need to sit…” y/n tried to stay on her feet, but her legs went slack and she was suddenly falling.

An arm wrapped around her waist. “No,” he mumbled quietly. “You gotta show me what to get you.” The man asked. He hoisted y/n in the air, shifting her weight and carrying her bridal style to the food court. “Alright… we got… pretzels, pizza, slushies, popcor-“

"slushies." y/n answered, a barely audible sound.

he nodded.

the man cut in front of the small line at a vendor and carefully set her in a chair. "i need two red slushies, the biggest size you have. please." he pulls out his wallet and slams a few crumpled dollar bills on the counter.

the worker stared at him for a second. "mike, you work here but you have to go to the back of the li-" the woman started.

"I’m sorry, Wendy but it's a medical emergency, she's diabetic and is really close to going into a coma, so im gonna need you to hurry,” mike rushed out, sneaking a glance back at y/n. She was pale and very clammy. It was obvious that she’d pass out soon.

Wendy followed Mike’s gaze and swallowed nervously. Then she turned on her heels and got to work.

y/n had her head in her arms, resting it on the table. she felt like shit. I wish i knew his name, she thought to herself. heat flashed through her body and her hands shook furiously, she felt like she had just run a marathon but hadn't moved an inch. she tried to distract herself from how horrible she felt, what had she done to get this low? Ah that's right. she had overcorrected for a stubborn high, then guess the amount of insulin for a giant drink, which she then proceeded to spill. Shit! she hadn't eaten anything to make up for the insulin she had given.

the man came back with two huge red slushies and says: “please drink this." he sets one down in front of her, and y/n pulls it towards herself and takes a sip.

mike- focused on making sure that the woman was alright- finally registered the whispers and snickers of passerby.

“Come with me," he murmurs. Mike gently grasps her again, handing her the second slushie. "Hold on to those for me, please.” Mike carries her into a small, office-looking room. He carefully sets y/n down against a wall, and he sinks down the wall beside her. Mike holds his hand out for his slushie and waits until y/n hands it to him.

"Uh… wait, i think that's the one i drank out of." She took the drink out of his hands and placed the other one in it. "No, actually this is the one i didn't drink out of. Here switch me again."

"Please just drink the slushie," he sighed.

After about 10 minuets y/n’s blood sugar started to come back up. it was hovering in the 40-50 range which was better than what it had been but still way too low for y/n to drive home. “Hey can you check something for me?" she asked, her vision still a little swirly and her hands still shaking.

Now y/n was able to read Mike’s nametag- which thankfully had a large font. “Hi Mike,” she added with a smile.

Mike smiled back at her, eyes softening slightly at her smile- it lit up her face. “What do you need me to do? Oh and, uh, what’s your name?”

"My name is y/n, but I need you to check something on my insulin pump, my vision is still a little...weird." She motioned towards her eyes. Unable to see small things with her current impaired eyesight, it would be quite a struggle to do it herself. She pulled out the small device. Turning it on she opened it up and turned the screen towards him. "That really little number down at the bottom."

Mike takes the device and squints at the tiny numbers. "It says... 10.7 u. Is that good or bad?" he blinks.

"Oh my god,” y/n groaned. “The one time i decide to pre-bolus, this happens. 10.7 units of unnecessary insulin. Sorry for interrupting and everything. I really should've been better about it." y/n shook her head.

"Hey as long as you're okay then it's totally fine. We can spend as long as you need to in here. I don't really have anywhere i need to be and this is a lot more eventful than what I normally do anyway… I’m not really complaining." Mike glances at his watch.

After a while of waiting and periodic finger pokes y/n's blood sugar returned to a safe enough number to drive home. They had sat talking to each other the entire time. y/n learned about Abby and about Garrett, and how his mom died and dad left.

"Well, I should get going. Thank you so much for everything, Mike." y/n smiles and smiles at him. A smile that just… lights up her face. Her eyes crinkle and a dimple appeared on her right cheek. Mike swears he almost swoons- he’s never had a (pretty) girl look at him like that.

Before she gets up, y/n tilts Mike’s head towards her and she places a delicate kiss on his cheek.

Mike swallows. He knows he’s probably overthinking it, just a simple thank you he reasons. So why did y/n’s eyes dart to his lips before getting up and heading for the door?

y/n has her stuff packed up before Mike realizes it. He watches her pick up her empty cup and toss it into the trash can. But before she leaves-

"Can I- uh," Mike stops y/n, voice breathless. "Is there any chance i can get your phone number? Just, uhm, in case you....y-know... need something again."

So Mike watches y/n write down her name and telephone number on a piece of paper. He watches the way a flush appeared on the apples of her cheeks. Mike watches her offer the paper to him and delights in the way she smiles again. But this time her smile is more bashful, more shy. Mike thinks it’s adorable.

“Thank you,” Mike murmurs, taking the paper. Her fingers brushed his and the flush darkens.

“I should be thanking you, Mike,” y/n says.

Mike can’t think of what to say next. He just stands there, falling further and further into y/n’s eyes. Slowly, cautiously, Mike reaches a hand out to y/n’s waist. She closes the space between them, letting herself be pulled into Mike’s arms.

Her hands wrap around Mike’s back in an embrace, but still looking at him, waiting for his next move.

“Mike?”

“Hm?”

“Are you gonna kiss me, or what?”

Mike leans down and presses his lips to y/n’s, tasting the flavor of the slushie on her lips. He feels y/n sigh against his lips, like she wanted him as much as he wanted her.

All too soon, y/n pulled away. “You should get back to work,” she whispers.

“Yeah,” Mike whisperes back.

“Call me, Mike.”

“I will,” he murmurs, lips still tender from their kiss.

——👾; present time

“I’m free this weekend- if, y’know, you want to go get dinner or something. Abby can come too if you want,” y/n says over the phone.

In all honesty, Mike’s surprised y/n remembers Abby, even though they only talked about six hours ago. “Sure! Where do you-“ Mike swallows, “where do you want to go?” He doesn’t want to go anywhere too expensive even though he wish he could. He just couldn’t afford that.

“I’m okay with anything, homestly. Abby can pick if she comes.”

Mike smiles. “I’ll talk to her about it.” He knows Abby would say yes.

The phone crackles as the two fall into momentary silence.

“I’m glad you called,” y/n admits.

”I’m glad I called, too,” Mike replies.

He doesn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy. In fact, Mike doesn’t think he’s ever been this happy. Ever. So as he sat there, talking to y/n, Mike told himself that she was good. Good for him, for Abby. This had to be the start of something better; a change in his life, perhaps.

Even later, when Mike was getting ready to sleep, he fell asleep thinking of her.

#x reader #female reader #x female reader #jules writes 📓🖊️#mike schmidt fluff #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt x reader #diabetic #x diabetic reader #mike schimdt x reader #mike schmidt #fnaf movie #fnaf x reader #fnaf fluff #diabetic reader #fnaf mike #jules writes 📓🖊#fluff

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lorkai · 2 months

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: I, uh, don't even know how to explain this. My fingers just started typing the more I was thinking about Cater and his trauma.

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Angst, hurt / no comfort, gn!reader.

Cater Diamond wore his smile like a knight wears his armor. To the world, he was always cheerful, always ready with a joke or a charming comment, he was the start in the spotilight. It was what people expected from him, after all - someone always expected something from him, first was his sisters, then his friends that he long forgot the names and faces, later his followers.

He was the carefree Cater who could lighten any room, the perfect friend, the flawless entertainer. But beneath that practiced smile and lines, a gnawing emptiness grew, a void he couldn't escape.

He had tried to fill it with countless things — hobbies and pleasant conversations, and most of all: social media. For a while, it worked. It made sense, made him feel like he belonged somewhere. The likes, the comments, the adoration from fans gave him a momentary high, a brief illusion of being seen and valued.

But the rush never lasted. Nothing ever lasted. Day blend together, minutes turn into hours and he is still stagnated on the same spot, unmoving, an actor left behind on the stage.

The second the screen went dark, the emptiness crept back in, colder and more consuming than before. So suffocating.

You were different, though. When you looked at him, you really looked at him, it was like you saw through all the layers he had built up around himself, saw the mask's strings that attached itself on his flesh. Your eyes searched for something real, something beyond the mask. It scared him, that look. It made him feel exposed, vulnerable in a way he hadn't been in a long time. He tried to push that feeling away, bury it beneath more jokes and casual touches, but it lingered, always there, just beneath the surface.

And he didn't know what to do. What to say. He was so used to indifference, he was used to the void on his chest.

And so, he ran away from that problem. From you.

"Cater, you can talk to me," You had said one night, your voice soft, filled with a genuine concern that twisted something deep inside him. He wanted to believe you, to open up and let you in. But the thought of it terrified him. What if you saw the real him and decided he wasn't worth it? What if you turned away, disgusted by the broken, hollow person beneath the mask?

So he kept up the act, even when it hurt. He told you it was nothing, that he was just tired, busy, whatever excuse he could think of to keep you from prying too deep. Each lie felt like a shard of glass lodged in his throat, but he swallowed them down, smiling all the while.

The more you tried to reach him, the more he pulled away. He couldn't bear the thought of you seeing through the cracks, of you realizing that everything he was, everything he did, was just a performance. He started responding to your messages less, making excuses to avoid seeing you. It was easier that way, to distance himself, to keep you from getting too close, even when his vision was blurry and he didn't know why.

But the void didn't go away. It only grew, gnawing at him from the inside, leaving him feeling emptier with each passing day. He hated himself for it, for pushing you away, for not being able to be the person you thought he was. The guilt and shame ate at him, making the void even deeper and dangerous.

When he finally sent that message — "Sorry, been busy. Let's take a break, okay?"— it felt like the final nail in the coffin. He knew he was hurting you and your feelings profoundly, that you deserved so much better than the hollow shell he had become. But he couldn't stop himself.

He couldn't bear the thought of dragging you down into his darkness, of letting you see just how broken he really was.

As he stared at his phone, the words blurring together, he felt the weight of his own facade crashing down around him. The truth was, he didn't know how to be real anymore. He had worn the mask for so long that he had forgotten what it felt like to be genuine, to let someone in.

Cater Diamond was a performer, and in the end, even he couldn't tell where the performance ended and the real him began. So he let you go, knowing it was the only way to protect you from the void that had consumed him. As the silence settled in, the emptiness felt more suffocating than ever, but he told himself it was for the best.

And yet, even as he tried to convince himself, the ache in his chest grew, a constant reminder of what he had lost. He had pushed away the one person who had seen him, truly seen him, and now all he had left was the cold, unyielding void. In the end, Cater Diamond was left with nothing but the echoes of his own hollow laughter and the bitter taste of regret.

#twst #twisted wonderland #cater x reader #cater x mc #cater x yuu #cater diamond #cater diamond x reader #cater diamond x yuu #cater diamond x mc #twst cater #twst cater diamond #twisted wonderland cater #twisted wonderland cater diamond #cater x y/n #cater x you #cater diamond x y/n #cater diamond x you #lorkai imagine

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a-heart-attack-ow · 6 months

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The Arrangement. Part Eight

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight: Smut/unedited

The cameras flashed like lightning snaking across a dark sky. Blinding and magical all at the same time. I held the soup ladle with my left hand as I’d been instructed to, my massive black diamond ring on display to my audience. I smile widely, making sure to remember that the smile needs to reach my eyes to be believable. Before me was a line of homeless individuals waiting for me to serve them. I’d done work with the soup kitchens before, but this was the first time that I had photographers watching my every move. I try to focus on the people I’m serving, the camera flashing as daunting for them as it is for me. I recognize some of the faces of the people in line and I greet them accordingly, an action that makes the cameras flash in another quick frenzy. I serve the food and try to remain focused on the people I want to bring awareness to. I mentally remind myself that this is why I’m doing this.

Well, one of the reasons why I’m doing this. Aside from keeping my in-laws happy and aiding their goal of making Colby Brock’s image better to the public. Aside from the fact that if I don’t do this my father could pay the price for my insubordination.

Worse than he already had.

I try to shake the thought from my head, my focus returning to my work. I try to remember all of the points that Sam had walked me through this morning. The angles I needed to stand at and the facial expressions I needed to maintain appearances.

Appearances that couldn’t indicate the agony bubbling beneath the surface of my skin.

The true nature of the family I married into. The true nature of what my husband got up to on behalf of his family. My smile grows as I serve the last person in line, my eyes locking with the cameras.

As if on command, I feel Colby’s hand on the small of my back as he joins me at my side, the sensation uncomfortable and alien after the past seven months since that night. Months that had made us strangers once more. Except when there was a camera pointed in our direction, then we had a show to put on. He kisses the side of my head, my eyes fluttering closed. My heart skips a beat when he does this, the spark still evident between the two of us.

God I loved him. Despite everything I loved him. Despite the distance that had grown between us.

He feels it too. The spark. I can tell by the way that his fingertips lightly rub where his hand is resting on the small of my back. A small reassuring gesture. I open my eyes and look over at him, our gazes meeting.

Suddenly, it feels like it’s just the two of us. The way that it should be.

I want to tell him I love him, but I don’t. Instead, I simply smile up at him and he smiles back. The rest of the event passes by in a blur and before I know it, he’s holding my hand and guiding me to the car. Making sure the cameras see that we’re holding hands. It’s not until we are in the car and he pulls away that we drop the act. His hands grip the wheel tightly as he drives, his eyes on the road ahead.

I can feel he wants to say something, but he doesn’t. He’s quiet.

The way that he had been for the past seven months. Since that night.

Sure, we still fucked, but he seemed more reserved around me. More determined to only truly interact when he had to. He slept next to me every night and brought me along with him to his meetings with his associates, but I couldn’t place why he was so distant. I kept repeating that night in my head and I couldn’t figure out what I’d done wrong. He was just hot and cold and hard to read.

Without realizing it, I’d been watching him for too long and he noticed. His jaw clenches and his eyes remain focused on the road ahead.

“There isn’t anyone watching us, you don’t have to pretend you care.”

His words hurt and I can’t stop my eyes from watering. I couldn’t understand why he was so mad at me. I hadn’t done anything to warrant this response. I’d done what I was told the entire time we’d been together. This entire arranged marriage, I’d been good and now he was punishing me for something I wasn’t aware of.

I just couldn’t figure out what that something was.

I hadn’t been unfaithful or strayed. All that had happened was my father got hurt by his parents and ever since then he was distant. The tears sting my eyes as I look down at my dress covered stomach. Down at the secret I’d been keeping from everyone for the last three weeks.

I’m pregnant.

The removal of the I.U.D. had been a success and now I was carrying the heir to the Brock Family Estate.

Just like I’d been told to.

The tears slip out silently as the weight of my situation hits me. I know that I needed to tell Colby, but I didn’t want to. Not when he’d been acting like this. I wasn’t even sure he’d be happy about the baby.

Would he be upset that things were going to change? Would things get worse when they did?

I tuck my hair behind my ear and remain silent as I break down in the passenger seat. I don’t know if he’s noticed, but I decide that I don’t care if he has. All I do is try to control my breathing as he pulls up to the gate outside of our house, buzzing security to let us inside. He parks the car in our driveway loop and I don’t wait for him to turn off the car before unbuckling and getting out of the vehicle.

My feet move along the gravel of the driveway and up the thirteen marble stairs that lead up to our front door. I hear him turn off the car and get out. The sound of the car door slamming behind him the moment I reach the front door. I leave the door wide open for him, but I don’t make it too far into the house before I’m met by Sam’s sympathetic blue eyes. He sat on the steps of the grand staircase, waiting for an update on today’s events. A look of confusion flashes over his face as he studies the tears escaping me. He glances behind me at Colby when the front door closes.

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

He growls at Colby, standing up from the steps. The blonde brushes past me, his hands going for Colby’s black button up as he pulls his friend in close. I turn to face the two of them, my tear soaked face now evident to Colby. From the look on his face, he didn’t know I was crying, but now that he does an undetectable look flickers over his face.

“Sam, please. He didn’t do anything to me. He just said something rude in the car. I’m sorry for getting upset.”

The words fall from my lips in a sad desperate tone. A tone that causes Sam to look over at me. His grip is still firm on Colby, who doesn’t move out of Sam’s grasp.

“Don’t say sorry Emilia. This entire time that you’ve been here it’s always you apologizing for his behavior towards you. It’s fucked up and I’m tired of it…”

He pauses looking from me to his friend and adopted brother.

“... You’ve been treating her like shit since our parents hurt her father. As if it’s her fault or something, but if it's anyone’s fault it's yours. You’re supposed to protect her and you should’ve been the one to talk to mom and dad before anything happened to her dad in the first place. Instead, you ran away and did a delivery that any one of the guys could’ve done. You just didn’t want to step up.”

Sam’s words hit hard to my husband and I can tell. It's in the way that he looks at Sam, the bitter look of disgust that overtakes his handsome face. My tears worsen at the words, my hand moving to my nonexistent baby bump. I can’t help but the feeling of heartbreak that I’m experiencing will kill me. Surely, I would shatter underneath all of this weight.

“I’m pregnant.”

The words fall from my mouth in a gasp. Like a breath that had been held for too long. The desire to keep it a secret seemed to vanish under the tension I hadn’t been expected to feel today. The moment I speak, it’s like the air has been sucked out of the room.

Two sets of eyes stare back at me in shock. Two mouths agape at the newest development. A sob escapes me as I look at Sam, my heart breaking at the look of kindness that he directs to me. Over the past seven months, Kris, Celina, and Sam had been my only friends at the house while my husband had chosen to ignore me.

Until he wanted a fuck.

Even the other guys that worked with Colby had come by to visit. I’d become friends with Corey, Johnnie, Jake, and Nate. What would they all think when they found out? Would they look at me like Sam is right now? I hate to imagine how disabling that would be to experience. How their looks of sympathy might be the straw that breaks me completely.

“When were you going to tell me?” Colby’s voice rasps in a mixture of frustration and disbelief. The tone of his voice is enough to make me want to snap and instantly I’m defensive.

“I don’t know Colbs, considering you only truly talk to me now when there’s a camera stuck in our faces I wasn’t sure.”

His eyes narrow at my words.

“What about last night when I was balls deep in you? Or this morning? You didn’t think to tell me then?”

There’s a smirk that finds the corner of his lips. The same smirk he wore whenever he talked about fucking me. A smirk that normally got me hot and bothered, but now made me want to slap him. This time I look at him with a clenched jaw, anger radiating through me.

“Fuck you…”

The words come out in a broken sob. It had been years since I’d let myself get so angry that I cried.

“... All I’ve done is love you. Despite everything and every gut feeling that told me not to. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to be the bright spot in this fucked up situation and for months you were. I thought maybe everything would be okay, but you took that from me the same night your parents chose to threaten me…”

Sam lets go of Colby and moves to my side, holding me against him as I break down, my knees wobbling.

“... And the worst part is I’m still in love with you. Even though it’s clear you aren’t anymore. I don’t know what happened that night, but I’ve missed you so much. I’ve been mourning you and you didn’t even notice. I’ve been so alone even when you’re next to me and it's been agony.”

I stop speaking because I can’t say another word. I just crumble against Sam and his arms wrap around me as I sob against his chest.

I hear him mutter something to Colby about ‘getting the fuck out of here’.

But I can’t bring myself to care.

I’m so tired of caring.

—

I fell asleep on the couch after spending hours crying into Sam’s lap, his fingers playing with my hair to soothe me. I don’t know how long I’d been out before I felt someone lift me from the couch, their arms strong as they held me tightly against them. The smell of his cologne is all that gives me the hint that it's Colby’s arms I’m in. Despite our arguing earlier, he gives my head a soft tender kiss. His grip on me tighter when he starts to take me up the stairs. It’s this softness that had made me fall in love with him in the first place, a softness that I’d been missing recently.

“I got you darling.”

He whispers once he reaches the top of the stairs. I’m still out of it enough to be sleeping, but awake enough to know that he’s bringing me to our bedroom. Once we are inside, he lays me down on the bed and makes sure to pull the comforter up over me. I feel him brush the hair out of my face as he sighs.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, but I have to say this now or I won’t say it at all. The dinner with my parents was harder than I let on. Yeah I cried like a little bitch and you saw that, but it's the way my parents view me that really got under my skin. I have a history of messing up or not being enough of what my parents wanted me to be. I never worked hard enough, I never kept secrets well enough, and then I messed up with you. The thing that happened with your father should’ve been avoided, I should’ve done the talking that night we had dinner with my parents. They saw that you’d become someone I cared for, that I didn’t have you under control and in line with what they wanted you to be with me. So they hurt you to punish me. I am so sorry about that...”

He pauses to take another deep breath.

“... That’s why I’ve been so distant. If they knew that I was keeping you in line and not letting my feelings for you cloud my judgment they wouldn’t hurt you again. But in doing that, I’ve hurt you and I honestly didn’t mean to do that. I am still in love with you Emilia. I’m so proud of you and your ability to keep your head up in all of this. I promise to be better about communicating and I promise to be a better husband. I promise to be the best dad I can be. I want a future with you, not just an image in front of a camera. I hope that you’ll let me do that. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me.”

He finishes speaking without realizing I’ve opened my eyes. He’d been looking forward the entire time that he didn’t notice until he felt my gaze. A small smile finds his lips when our eyes meet.

A smile I don’t return. Instead I look at him blankly, my body still tired from the hysterics brought on by today. I’ve never cried as hard as I cried today. My heart hadn’t ever shattered as badly as it had today. A simple sorry wasn’t going to do it and I needed to stick to that. Even though the sight of him in only his black sweats causes my mind to wander for a second, desire laced deep within me despite it all.

“This cycle needs to stop. The hot and cold bullshit has to stop. We are having a baby and I’m not going to allow this type of atmosphere for them. You’re either all in now or I’m not doing this anymore. I’ll have our child, but I’ll stay in my own room and keep up appearances for the sake of my father’s life. But if you don’t want us then I’m done.”

He listens to what I have to say, truly listens to every word and contemplates. Not even when I sit up in our bed and look at him does he speak. He really mulls it over and I do appreciate that. We’d both spoken more words to each other in the last few minutes than we had in months.

I missed hearing him speak.

I shake the thought out of my head as he reaches for me, his hands pulling me onto his lap. I try not to meet his gaze as he does this, but it’s no use. He places a hand under my chin and focuses his attention on me.

“I want us.”

He speaks so softly that I almost can’t hear him. Like he’s afraid that he’s going to upset me again if he speaks any louder. I place my hands on his bare chest and breathe out a deep sigh as I trace the tattoo above his heart. He’d explained what it was to me once, a symbol that meant ‘protect your heart’ , something I thought was cute, but now I look at it and I wish that I’d done the same. My heart had been through the ringer for the last year.

Year.

The thought enters my head as I recall the date. One year ago today we’d been married. An anniversary that snuck up on us both with cruel irony.

“We’ve been married an entire year Mr. Brock.”

I state lifelessly as I swallow hard. He nods as if he already knew it, something that makes today worse. He had to choose today of all days to be an ass.

“Has it all been bad, my darling wife?”

He asks. Eyes trained on me.

“No, some of it has been good. But my husbands a real dick sometimes.”

I respond quickly, unable to stop myself from smiling when he feigns offense. He places his hands on either side of my waist and I can feel what direction we’re heading in. He bites down on his bottom lip and focuses on how my breathing hitches. Slight annoyance with my own body’s inability to chill the fuck out overtakes me briefly, before he places his lips to mine in caution.

I don’t bother trying to fight how good he feels as he kisses me. Nor do I bother with the fact that he’s lifting up my dress, his hands finding my thighs. Instead, I lean into it, my hands on top of his as I help him unwrap me. He groans at the action, satisfied that I want him as badly as he wants me. But wanting Colby has never been an issue for me, which is how I’d ended up in this mess in the first place. I can feel him getting hard beneath me, harder as I grind myself against him. An action that practically causes him to growl in sexual frustration. He moves me off of his lap and into our bed, his body straddling mine. He keeps his attention on me as he slides my underwear down my legs and lifts my dress up.

“I’m sorry I made you cry.”

He rasps, placing light kisses on the inside of my thighs. I lay there with my eyes fluttering closed as the sensation of him kissing further and further up my thigh fills me with anticipation. Anticipation that feels worth it the moment I feel his mouth against my aching core, his tongue dipping inside of my slick sex. The feeling of his mouth was always incredible, but today it felt even better. Today I could feel the extra care he was spending on me as if his tongue was trying to atone for his actions earlier. My back arches into the bed beneath me as his tongue works on me, soft whimpers escaping me with each flick of his mouth. He works on me for several minutes of indescribable pleasure, my head spinning the entire time. I hear him chuckle darkly to himself as he can feel me getting closer to the edge.

“Come on baby, cum all over daddy’s tongue.”

He speaks in a lower register as he whispers the words against my needy sex. The invitation is all that I need to release, his tongue lapping up my orgasm with feverish need. A moan escapes my lips as I come down from my high. My hands grip the comforter I’m laying on top of as my chest heaves up and down.

“Fuck, Colbs.”

I whimper as his mouth moves from me, his body suddenly straddling mine. In the darkness his pale blue eyes find me, his face serious as he studies me closely. I can tell he wants to say something, but that he’s unsure of what exactly to say. He knew words wouldn’t change my frustration. He needed his actions to reflect a change, but he wasn’t sure where to start.

I didn’t know either.

But at this moment I make the executive decision to deal with all of that later. Instead I move my left hand to the back of his head, guiding his lips to mine. His breathing gets heavy, when I deepen the kiss and my fingers lace in his hair. Moments like this made me thankful for the electricity burning between the both of us. It was undeniable and magnetic.

It had always been. Regardless of whatever else was happening at the time.

A groan escapes him as my hips lift slightly, enough to cause friction between the two of us. I may have just came, but I was more than ready to feel him inside of me.

It didn’t matter how many times we’d done this. Everytime felt like the first.

The air around us is heated, our bodies needy for each other. I slowly move my hands from his hair, my fingertips ghosting along his toned body and down his chest. I reach his sweatpants, the pads of my fingers lightly toying with the fabric. I drag them down an action that causes him to chuckle.

“You seem to know exactly what you want Mrs. Brock.”

He lets me drag the sweats down and to expose himself to me. A sight that I knew I wouldn’t ever get tired of seeing. For a moment he stares down at me in wonder, at the mess he’s made of me. The heap of uneven breaths and a look of desire in my eyes. I smile up at him, a smile he returns.

“I’ll always want you, Colbs.”

My voice sounds more sentimental than I intended it to, but I meant every word. He knows I mean it as he looks down at me, his face sweet as he presses his lips back to mine. This kiss is slower, more cautious as if he’s trying to savor the moment. As we kiss, he aligns himself with me, the tip of his cock sliding in slowly. Another groan from him sounds against my lips as he allows himself to savor how tight I am around him. He breaks the kiss as he slowly starts to thrust inside of me, our eyes meeting once more. He’s so gentle as he fucks me, a slow satisfaction that I didn’t want to stop.

We remain entwined in each other, his head leaning down to rest in the crook of my neck. Light kisses a trail along my collarbone as he continues moving in and out of me, my body moving with his in perfect rhythm. He marks me carefully, aware of where he’s leaving the marks. The gentle sucking of his lips sent shivers up my spine. He thrusts deeper and deeper inside of me and with each movement I feel the nerves of my stomach building up. I can feel him getting closer to the edge as he thrusts.

“I’m going to cum Emilia, but I want you to cum with me too.”

He rasps against my skin, breath heated. I moan in response, unable to form a coherent word. As he thrusts once more, I feel myself spill over the edge at the same time he does. Filling me with his cum.

We lay in heated silence as we try to catch our breaths, our bodies slowly coming down from their high. We remain entangled together as I feel his cock twitch inside of me one more time before he pulls out of me to lay at my side in our bed. His blue eyes remain on me as he studies me closely.

“I really am sorry.”

Softly he speaks, his hand reaching out to tuck some of my hair behind my ear. I can hear how sorry he is, but again I need to see a change before I’ll fully believe him.

“How do you feel about me being pregnant?”

I ask instead of responding to his ‘sorry’. I knew that we had to get pregnant because that’s what his parents wanted, but now that it was happening I didn’t know how he actually felt about it. We’d only briefly spoken about it prior to this moment. He sees the insecurity in my eyes and the uncertainty of this new chapter of our lives.

“I’m excited. There’s no one else I would want to have children with, but…”

He hesitates, his brows furrowing as he chooses his words carefully.

“...I’ve got to figure something out about my parents. I don’t want my parents to get their grubby hands on our child. They’re not going to do what they did to me to them. I have to figure out a way of standing up for us and what we need without them retaliating in some way.”

His fingertips run through my hair, his face full of thought. I’d be lying if I said that I hadn’t worried about the same thing. If I hadn’t worried that somehow they’d retaliate if we did one thing they didn’t approve of with our child.

How else would they hurt my father?

The thought dances in my head, spinning out of control for a second before Colby’s hand moves to my face, his thumb lightly tracing over my cheekbone. The worry must’ve been evident on my face.

“I’ll take care of my parents. In the meantime, you are literally growing a human inside of you so I want you to just focus on that. I’ll do the heavy stuff with my family.”

He draws me in against him, my head resting against his chest as he kisses my forehead. After what had happened with my father I wasn’t sure if I could fully relax.

I trusted that Colby wanted to do the right thing, but could we out smart his family when they always seemed to be two steps ahead?

I wasn’t sure if we would be able to.

But God, did I hope I was wrong.

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