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dollgxtz · 7 months ago

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Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace #love and deepspace smut #sylus x reader #sylus #lads sylus #lads #lads smut #lads fic #sylus x reader smut #love and deep space x reader #l&ds smut #lads scenarios #love and deep space scenarios #sylus x reader fic

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fushitoru · 3 months ago

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chapter 6: the house party a bridgerton au

pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader

summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?

warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly

chapter summary ⸺ you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton (7.4k)

a/n thank you as always to the pooks @/sinn-clair for beta reading this <333 i'll see you after the chapter is over!

prev. the fall | next. the rebound

general masterlist | series masterlist

Gentle Reader,

One query occupies this Author's mind, be it ladies or mamas alike—what exactly are Miss Itadori and Lord Gojo up to in the countryside? Perhaps a trifling dalliance of hearts, or will the ton bear witness to a scandal uncovered when they arrive for the house party? After having arrived a week early—and positioned as the diamond of the season—one must guess that if all goes well and Miss Itadori plays her cards right, she will be showing off her new surely lavish diamond engagement ring. Yet, she must take great care, for to err in this delicate matter would be to jeopardize a most significant match with Lord Gojo. Only time shall tell the outcome of this intrigue.

⸻ LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS

Upon waking, the physician informed you that you had been unconscious for some days. Though no immediate danger threatened you, it had been long enough to send both families into a state of great disquiet. It seemed that even before you’d regained full awareness, a servant—who had gasped upon hearing your feeble request for water—had swiftly spread the news, for not a moment later Yuji burst into the room.

“SISTER!” he exclaims, hurtling his way towards you with heavy steps. You flinch in your position on the bed at the sound of his loud voice. “You are awake! Mama seemed like she would faint, Choso had almost popped a bloody vein, he looked like he was about to challenge Lord Gojo to a duel—”

“Yuji! My dear,” you had to shout, interrupting the boy’s ramblings, giving him an uneasy smile. “Lower your volume, please. I might faint back into unconsciousness due to the strain, and this time you will be the one dueling Choso.”

The pout Yuji adopts is akin to a chastened hound as he grabs a chair to sit next to you. You take this moment to surveil your surroundings, now with a clear headedness granted to you that hadn’t been granted before. There were fresh flowers adorning a vase on the table on your bedside, and you seemed to be wearing a shift, cleaned and changed out of your dirty and mud-ridden dress. There was a gauze surrounding your head, and you could feel some similar cloth on your ankle.

You turned to your brother. “Now then, what were you saying?”

He perks up. “Well, you’ve been in quite a state, dear sister! It’s not every day you’re injured before breaking fast. Choso practically spat his tea when he heard! And, of course, Duchess Gojo has been endlessly apologetic. Between Mama, Choso, and me, we’ve all been in quite a state. I daresay you’re hardly known for clumsiness—although you do have your moments on horseback.” At the memories seemingly pooling themselves in his mind, Yuji sniggers while you shoot him a look to not be testy. “And Gojo has been nothing short of attentive. No doubt the man’s come in to change your flowers more than the doctor’s visited you. He’s so caring, he even cares for a worm like you!”

You ignore Yuji’s jab, instead forcing yourself not to be gripped by the fact that Gojo had been so…attentive to you. Of course, it was as an indirect result of his sheer vexing nature that you were bedridden in such a manner, so it should not set your heart aflutter like a foolish girl. But your traitorous heart seems to hate listening to reason.

You begin to nod slowly. “And how many days have I been out? When is the house party?” Taking a gander at the windows in the room you were situated in, you could see the moon and star’s light filtering the curtains. You weren’t sure if it was the evening or night or completely early in the morning.

He looks up to the ceiling, as if calculating something, brows furrowed. “Today.”

Groaning, you put your head in your hands, playing with your hair as it falls through the gaps of your fingers. “Mother is going to kill me.”

“Oh, indeed,” Yuji replied with a hum, stretching his arms in a cat-like yawn. “Now, I must get back to my rest. The servants were gossiping near my door, so I thought I’d see for myself that you weren’t dead.” He kissed you on the cheek before heading to the door. “Sleep, sister, for I expect Mama will tire you endlessly come morning.”

Later, a gentle nudge at your arm and a few soft “Miss! Wake up!”’s roused you from sleep. You opened your eyes to find a maid hunched over you, relief clear in her expression as you met her gaze with a drowsy squint. “Miss, Lord Gojo requests your presence. May I allow him in?”

With a nod, you fought off your annoyance at having been disturbed. The maid, visibly flustered, hurried to admit Gojo, who soon approached with quiet footsteps. As you propped yourself up, arms crossed, you gave him a mildly reproachful look. “Gojo, you’ve roused me from my slumber. I trust this is a matter of utmost importance—-” you began, then trailed off as you took in his expression.

He was taut, as though his very sinews were wound tight. Standing rigidly, his jaw clenched, his gaze flitted everywhere but to you. Troubled, you tried, “Gojo?”

At the sound of his name, he looked sharply at you and seemed to gather himself. “Ah… forgive me.” He took a seat and smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes, artificial. “How is your recovery?” You eye him suspiciously. His leg is moving up and down anxiously, the action minute in a way that makes you think he’s not aware of doing it. The tight and strained smile on his face seems uncanny, his concern seeming out of place. “Well, as much as it can be for me bleeding out pints and pints of blood from my head,” at that, you note that he subtly flinches, “but all is well!” You spread out your arms and give him a dazzling smile, and his eyes follow. “I’m sure my mama and my maid are itching to rush in here to prepare me for the house party.” Giving him a playful glare, you continue, “And just for the pain you caused me, you ought to have two dances and a few pastries prepared tonight.”

At that, he looks at you for a quick glance before quickly turning away, seemingly collecting himself. In what you could observe in his previous expression, you were surprised to see yearning present in his blue eyes, filled with feelings that perplexed you. Gojo was acting very odd.

Then, he drew in a measured breath, his jaw clenched as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. He finally looked at you, a shadowed intensity in his gaze that made your heart beat faster—not in the way it used to when his eyes sparked with wit, but with a sense of foreboding.

"Miss Itadori," he began, his voice lower, lacking the familiar, teasing cadence. "I must apologize for the trouble I have brought upon you. I was… heedless, perhaps even reckless, and it seems I have caused you nothing but suffering."

You frowned, confusion beginning to bubble beneath the surface as he paused, clearly struggling to continue. He seemed almost pitiable, looking down at his hands, which were tightly woven together, his knuckles pale. But pity was not a feeling you had patience for. Not now. Not with Gojo of all people.

"Trouble?" you repeated, folding your arms. "I do believe that's an understatement, my lord. A mere misstep, surely?"

His eyes flicked back to yours, the corner of his mouth tugging in a grim semblance of a smile. "Understatement or not, it remains the truth," he replied, his voice nearly a murmur. "I cannot in good conscience continue this… attachment we have formed. The position of courtship our mamas have placed us in. For I fear it is you who stands to lose most dearly if I remain by your side."

You stiffened, his words crashing over you like a cold wave. "Attachment?" you said, bitterness coloring the word. "Do not dress it up with such kind words, Lord Gojo. An attachment is something formed with care, with respect—qualities you seem to find inconvenient."

He winced but did not break eye contact. "I will not argue with you," he said softly, voice steady in its regret. "Perhaps I am no master of attachments, nor have I ever claimed to be. But know that I had never wished to see you harmed—"

"Harmed?" you interrupted, your voice growing louder as anger swelled within you. "Is this some twisted apology, then? A show of remorse for the inconvenience of your whims?"

Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but you did not allow him the chance.

"How very noble of you, Lord Gojo," you continued, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all this time, to simply say, 'Forgive me; I shall now remove myself from your life,' as if that makes up for the chaos you’ve brought upon me? As if I am but a pawn to be moved at your discretion?"

His face softened slightly, as if he were seeing something in you he hadn't fully expected—a quiet resolve beneath your anger, a dignity that refused to be bruised. "No, Miss Itadori," he said quietly. "I do not wish to see you as a pawn. After all, from what I understand is that you do not know what you desire—and I would only be exploiting that. I only… I only wish to relieve you of the burdens I seem to bring."

You laughed, the sound bitter and laced with fury. "Know what I want? As if you do, dropping pretenses with commoners and putting on your mask for the ton. And relieve me? I don’t think you understand what it is you’ve done, Gojo."

This conversation was dangerous. The emotions you hid under the air of nonchalance were steadily bubbling up, and it seemed that now, your sentiments were threatening to boil over at the sheer audacity of Gojo breaking off this arrangement, of what the ton would think today if he were to be avoiding you like the plague.

He flinched at the sound of his name on your lips, spoken with such venom. A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he made no move to respond, simply watched as you gathered your thoughts, your gaze piercing.

"All this time," you said, each word sharper than the last, "I was led to believe there was something more to your attentions. And now, you simply wash your hands of it? You think yourself a gentleman for doing so?"

"Miss Itadori," he said, his voice strained. "I am—"

"You are a coward," you spat, and his eyes widened, the faintest hint of pain flashing in their depths. "Yes, that’s right. A coward, for trying to protect yourself under the guise of protecting me. All this talk of 'relieving me'—do not act as if your decision was made out of kindness." (a/n: OH NO SHE DIDNTTTTT)

"Do you not understand?" he interjected, a sudden fierceness in his voice, his composure beginning to slip. "This is not some petty whim, nor a game. My intentions… they were never meant to bring you harm, but they did. And I cannot bear to see it continue."

"Bear to see it continue?" you repeated incredulously. "Do you think I am some doll, some trifle to discard at your convenience?"

"That was never my intent!" he exclaimed, voice rising in frustration. "If you would but see reason—"

"Reason? From you?" you laughed bitterly, barely able to contain the fury welling up inside you. "Your idea of reason is nothing more than self-preservation, Lord Gojo. How convenient it must be to absolve yourself of guilt by deciding I am better off without you."

He fell silent, the anger in his face ebbing, replaced by a kind of desperation. "You do not understand," he said, quieter, almost pleading. "If I were to stay… if I were to court you in earnest, it would not be the life you think it to be."

"Then let that be my choice to make," you shot back, crossing your arms. "But no—this is not about my well-being, not truly. It is about you, Gojo. It has always been about you."

A tense silence stretched between you, filled only by the soft, uneven breaths that escaped both of you. For a moment, neither dared to speak, both caught in the tangled emotions that hung thick in the air.

Finally, Gojo looked down, his eyes shuttered, his voice weary. "Then hate me, if you must. But I am done with this charade."

"Hate you?" you repeated, the word tasting strange on your tongue. "No, Lord Gojo. Hatred would imply I care enough to feel anything toward you."

Your entire body seethed with fury, every muscle trembling with the strain of keeping yourself upright, sitting on your bed. You couldn't storm out—not with your wounded leg refusing to bear even a fraction of the anger swelling within you. Instead, you pushed yourself up on shaking arms, glaring at him with such venom that he instinctively stepped back.

"Get out," you spat, the words laced with ice, your voice rising as if to fill the entire room. "Out! Now, Gojo—leave me this instant!"

He froze, his shoulders tense as he looked at you with something unreadable, but he made no move toward the door.

"I said leave!" you shrieked—your voice shrill—the strain of it making you nearly lose balance, but you didn't care. Hot tears stung your eyes, and you bit them back, forcing yourself to breathe through the betrayal clawing at your chest. "Take your false apologies, your noble pretensions, and get out of my sight. Go, and never, ever darken my door again."

His mouth opened, as if he might say something—perhaps even something that might soothe the jagged edges of your heart. But your furious gaze dared him to try.

With a pained expression, he finally gave a nod, stepping back toward the door. He lingered for a moment, one last helpless look crossing his face before he turned away, leaving without another word.

The door clicked shut, and you were left alone, shaking with fury, your breath ragged. Your eyes were still on that door, your heart racing, as though expecting him to come back, to take it all back, to be the man you'd witnessed yesterday. But deep down, you knew he would not return.

The first glimmers of morning filtered through the heavy drapes as you stirred awake, still dazed from the events that had left you bedridden. The memories of Gojo’s departure settled heavily on your chest, like a stone dropped in a lake, rippling outward and disturbing any possibility of calm. Your mind drifted over the previous night’s argument, replaying words, and then, with a cringe, the heated moments where you felt every last ounce of self-restraint slip from your grasp.

A small part of you reasoned that you may have been rash—that your anger and hurt had overtaken good sense. After all, it was you who deemed your and Gojo’s match impossible. So why were you so hurt?

Before you could linger on these thoughts, there was a soft knock at your door.

"Come in," you murmured, propping yourself up gingerly.

What followed soft footsteps was Choso, his gaze warm and steady as he entered, carrying the ease of familiarity that only he could. As he approached, he pulled a chair beside your bed and gave a faint smile.

Choso stepped in quietly, his face softened by a rare smile as he approached. “Awake at last,” he said gently, taking a seat beside you with the care one might afford a delicate flower. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the entire house party."

He reached out, his hand resting on the crown of your head, fingers slipping through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The fondness in his touch eased the last of the stiffness in your frame, a balm against the soreness both physical and emotional.

“You worry too much,” you muttered, allowing yourself to lean into the comfort he offered, your voice softening as his hand continued to gently scratch at your scalp.

“You look better today,” he said softly, continuing his familiar, soothing rhythm with his fingers. “Though, I’ll admit, you gave us all quite a scare.”

You managed a small smile, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly under his touch. “I suppose I was overdue for a bit of excitement,” you murmured, though the attempt at levity felt thin, even to your own ears.

Choso’s hand stilled momentarily, and his gaze grew searching as he looked at you. “What truly happened yesterday?” he asked, his voice low with concern. “There’s more here than an unfortunate fall, isn’t there?”

You stiffened slightly, glancing away from him. “It was nothing,” you replied, willing your tone to sound convincing. “Just… an ill-timed accident. Nothing to concern yourself with.”

But Choso was not so easily deterred. He watched you closely, his brow furrowing with worry. “You’ve always been a poor liar, sister,” he murmured. “If something happened, you know you can tell me. I only want to understand.”

The quiet earnestness in his tone gnawed at you, and for a moment, you considered confiding in him. But the idea of revisiting last night’s turmoil felt too raw, too immediate. “I’m fine, truly,” you insisted, meeting his gaze with as much steadiness as you could muster. “It was… nothing that can’t be mended with rest.”

Choso’s gaze lingered on you, his fingers resuming their gentle tracing along your scalp as if that alone could soothe whatever burden you were carrying. “Well,” he finally said, his tone filled with fond exasperation, “I won’t press you. But I trust you’ll speak of it when you feel you are ready.”

You gave a slight nod, grateful for his restraint. The quiet between you was comforting, grounding, as he continued his rhythmic motions, easing your thoughts in a way that words could not.

After a long moment, he broke the silence again, his tone lighter this time. “On a more cheerful note,” he began, a faint smile playing on his lips, “you’ll have another visitor tomorrow.”

“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a part of you already guessed who he meant.

“Yes,” he confirmed, a knowing glint in his eye. “Sukuna received word of your injury and set off at once. He’ll be here by morning.”

You let out a small breath, a mixture of relief and trepidation filling you. “Tomorrow, then,” you repeated, feeling a hint of warmth at the thought. “It seems my brothers cannot resist making a fuss.”

Choso chuckled, squeezing your hand gently. “It’s what we’re here for. And perhaps Sukuna’s presence will help you feel a bit more at ease during the house party. He’ll see to it that no one bothers you unduly.”

You couldn’t help but smile at that, the thought of Sukuna’s reassuring, if overbearing, presence lifting your spirits slightly. “Well, at least there’s that to look forward to,” you murmured, and, with a soft sigh, leaned back against your pillows, letting Choso’s calming presence ease the lingering shadows of last night’s ordeal, even if temporary.

For you had a beast of a social gathering to deal with today, the same one where the ton would descend upon the outcome of your match, ready to laugh at you: the house party.

“He what?”

You flinched, scowling as you clutched your ears. Nobara’s shrill voice was not helping your recovery, nor were her rough combs through your hair; but alas, beauty has a price, and it’s one you’re reluctantly willing to pay. You oh-so terribly wanted to politely decline the formal invitation, but it seemed that the moment you woke, your mother was dead set on getting you ready for what she thought was your engagement party. Little did she know that her not so future in law had gotten rid of you as if you were a stray animal latched onto him, but who were you to burst her bubble?

Perhaps you ought to dread the inevitable fallout from your mother when the truth emerged, but you consoled yourself with the thought of drowning your sorrows in champagne tonight, delaying her wrath for at least a little while. Besides, the prospect of Sukuna’s impending arrival tomorrow brought you some comfort; his unruly nature often served as a distraction from your own troubles.

You sighed heavily, meeting Nobara’s furious gaze in the mirror. “He merely said he wished to absolve me of any trouble he had caused.”

“Good riddance!” Nobara shrieked, her hand furiously waving around the hair brush in a way that made you wary, for it would not be pleasant for it to make contact with your already tender head. “He was never the one for you to pursue, for he lacks the honor of a true gentleman! And yet—oh, heavens!” She gestured at you accusingly with the brush, her tone turning sharp. “Why, pray, do you appear so disheartened?”

You open your mouth immediately, indignant and expecting your wit, your usual ally, to conjure a response for you, only to be left open-mouthed when it came up short. Nobara seemed to sense your hesitance, opening her mouth to unleash yet another accusatory and reprimanding remark, but you quickly moved to fill your silence. “I suppose I am just…offended that he dare reject me, the diamond. The ton will seize upon this dissolution with glee. They shall revel in my supposed failure, for it will be indicative of my failure to the Queen.”

Nobara arched a brow, her skeptical silence speaking volumes. She clearly wasn’t convinced, and before she could level another charge against you, a knock sounded at the door.

“Sister, are you decent?”

“Enter, Choso,” you called out, hastily adjusting the neckline of your pale pink gown and straightening the strand of pearls around your neck.

Nobara opened the door, though she made no attempt to soften her posture. The hairbrush remained firmly in her grasp, poised like a weapon, and Choso cast it a wary glance as he stepped inside. His presence brought a sense of calm, even as his expression betrayed some inner turmoil. He hesitated for a moment before moving to sit at the edge of your vanity, his gaze flickering between you and Nobara.

You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of his silence. “Well, brother? Out with it,” you urged, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.

He sighed, clearly reluctant. “Very well,” he began. “Pray, hear me out. You know I have never hidden my disapproval of Lord Gojo.” At the sound of that name, you flinched, though you quickly masked it with a curt nod. Choso continued nonetheless, his tone steady but earnest. “In light of recent events, I have taken it upon myself to form…a contingency plan of sorts.”

Your curiosity was piqued, though Nobara snapped at you to sit still as she continued combing through your hair. “Go on,” you said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Choso leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as though to ensure Nobara wouldn’t interrupt. “I have had the pleasure of conversing at length with Duke Nanami.”

You arched a brow, intrigued despite yourself. “The Duke Nanami?”

“Yes,” Choso confirmed. “He is an esteemed gentleman of considerable character, and, as fortune would have it, he is not currently pursuing anyone this season.”

Your lips parted, but no words came. Choso’s intent was clear, and the weight of his proposition settled over you like an unexpected storm. Nobara, meanwhile, had stilled entirely, her hairbrush forgotten in her hand as she turned to gawk at your brother.

“Is this,” she began, her voice disbelieving, “your solution to Gojo’s appalling behavior? To thrust her into the path of another?”

Choso shrugged, unbothered by her skepticism. “A better match by far, I would argue. The Duke has no such inclinations to trifling or dishonor.”

You sighed, leaning back as the tension in the room thickened. “And what makes you so certain the Duke would even entertain such an arrangement?” you asked, your voice tinged with a weariness you hadn’t intended to show.

Choso gave you a small smile, his hand reaching out to pat your shoulder. “Leave that to me, dear sister. For now, focus on enduring tonight’s ordeal. Tomorrow, you may take comfort in Sukuna’s arrival—and in the knowledge that your prospects are not as grim as they seem.”

You exhaled, unsure whether to feel gratitude or exasperation, as Choso rose from his seat. Whatever plans he had in motion, they would unfold in time. For now, you could only prepare yourself for the chaos that awaited.

Gojo had outdone himself. Truly, magnificently outdone himself.

From the moment you entered the house, your hand resting lightly on Choso’s arm, the stares began. They weren’t the polite glances reserved for new arrivals at such gatherings—these were sharp, lingering, and accompanied by a cacophony of whispers that only heightened your unease.

You straightened your back, chin held high, determined not to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing your discomfort. But it was impossible to ignore the way every eye seemed to follow you, every head turned to observe as you passed. Whatever it was that had stirred this interest, you were certain Gojo was at the heart of it.

Feeling the oppressive smog of stares, you knew where you could find solace: the drinks table, where you could down a flute of champagne alongside your stress. And right as you excuse yourself from Choso’s hold, who is now looking in the general direction of some men—particularly a gaggle of men that included Lord Geto and Duke Nanami, who were looking at something in the direction of the dance floor with interest. As you walk, you take in the scene: a beautiful chandelier, and red drapings and coverings embellished with gold, a bloody alternative to the Gojo icy blue. You’re not sure why today’s ensemble of colors didn’t include blue, but you believe it is fitting for what’s going to happen to you after this party is over and your mother finds out about the elephant in the room.

And as you glance longingly at the couples gliding across the floor, their movements synchronized with the lilting strains of the orchestra, your breath catches.

It is then that you see him.

Gojo Satoru is spinning a girl across the dance floor, his coat tails trailing like ribbons in the air. His lips move as he speaks, the tilt of his head paired with that too-familiar smirk. His partner laughs at something he’s said, a soft sound that reaches you even from this distance. You could almost identify her—there is no debutante in the ton you have not cataloged, no rival whose dossier you do not possess—but tonight, it does not matter. She is just a blur of chiffon and curls, another face in a sea of women enthralled by him.

Your chest tightens as you take in the scene, a memory unspooling unbidden.

Is this what your first dance with Gojo had looked like to others? Did you appear as enraptured as this girl, your steps as confident and sure beneath his lead? You remember his light touch at your back, his questions whispered so quietly you doubted even the orchestra could eavesdrop, his eyes full of a charm so practiced it felt like a spell cast just for you.

And yet now, the spell is broken.

He is steering her—steering everything—with such ease that it almost makes you laugh. Were he not so infuriating, you might have admired his grace, the way he seamlessly dominates both the conversation and the dance. His amusement is evident in the quirk of his brow, the corners of his mouth curling with every word she utters, no doubt answering his questions with meek enthusiasm.

She is simple. You can tell from the way he looks at her, the way he pauses before replying as if translating his own thoughts into something digestible for her. The way she beams at him—unaware of how deeply he calculates every move—is almost endearing. Almost.

He is drawing the same conclusions he did of you. Simple, lacking substance.

The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth.

But then the girl laughs again, a little too loud, and Gojo’s expression flickers for just a second—long enough for you to notice. His smile tightens, his gaze sliding briefly across the room as though searching for something more stimulating. It is instinctual, this glance, and his head tilts in such a way that you know it will land on you if you linger a moment longer.

Your heart stutters in protest, your legs already moving.

Punch table. Right.

As you near it, you grab the closest drink and down it one sip, desperate for the cool of the liquid to calm both your throat and your heated mind, furious with thoughts and anxiety of those around you. And it was just as you begin to set down the cool glass that in your periphery comes the man who soon tests your resolve.

“Miss Itadori,” a voice drawled behind you, the unmistakable lilt of smugness weaving through it.

You turned, and there stood Naoya Zen’in, his grin as unctuous as ever. He bowed slightly, though the gesture felt more like mockery than courtesy. “I must say, you are positively radiant tonight.”

You inclined your head ever so slightly, each movement deliberate. “Mr. Zen’in. How kind of you to say.”

He grinned, and the sight was unsettling, a serpent preparing to strike. “Radiant, yes. A pity Lord Gojo has finally come to his senses and moved on. I thought the two of you might actually prove interesting.”

Your stomach churned, but you kept your expression serene. “I fail to see how my affairs are of interest to you, Mr. Zen’in.”

“Oh, but they are,” he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering as though he were sharing a confidant’s secret. “Everyone is watching, you know. Wondering why Lord Gojo is…otherwise occupied tonight.” He tilted his head, motioning discreetly toward the mantle, a few meters away, where Gojo stood, entertaining and welcoming another lady.

Your eyes betrayed you, flicking briefly in that direction. Gojo’s figure remained in your periphery, still close enough to notice but far enough to be unattainable. You tore your gaze away, unwilling to feed Naoya’s glee.

Naoya leaned in, his tone growing more audacious. “Quite the spectacle, wouldn’t you agree? Though perhaps it’s for the best. You have much to offer, Miss Itadori—breeding hips, for one.”

The words hit you like a slap, your mind reeling in fury and disbelief. Your breath hitched, but before you could muster a scathing retort, something else caught your attention.

Gojo’s hand, resting casually against the column, tightened into a fist. The movement was subtle, but unmistakable—a barely contained tension that you might have missed if you weren’t already attuned to his every breath, his every twitch.

Still, you refused to look directly at him. Whatever he felt, it mattered not.

“Mr. Zen’in,” you began, voice icy and measured, though the rage burned beneath the surface, “your comments are as inappropriate as they are unwelcome. I suggest—”

“Sister.”

Choso’s voice interrupted like a lifeline thrown to a drowning sailor. You turned to see your older brother approaching, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as they darted between you and Naoya. He came to your side, his imposing presence creating an impenetrable wall between you and the unwelcome intruder.

“Mr. Zen’in,” Choso greeted with a curt nod, his tone laced with a warning. “I trust you’ll excuse my sister. She and I were just about to take a turn about the room.”

Naoya’s grin faltered, but he recovered quickly, stepping back with a mocking bow. “Of course. Do enjoy your evening.”

Choso wasted no time, offering his arm to you. You took it gratefully, your legs unsteady as he guided you away from the scene and toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.

“Are you all right?” he asked softly, his voice gentle but firm, as though bracing himself for a truth he might not like.

You nodded, though the words escaped you. Your hands trembled slightly, and Choso placed his over yours, steadying you. “I saw the way you looked,” he murmured, his voice quieter now. “At Lord Gojo.”

Your breath caught, but you said nothing, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of your brother’s steps.

“Whatever he’s done—or hasn’t done—you are worth far more than his regard,” Choso continued, his tone resolute. “Do not forget that.” A pause. “Are you all right, Sister?”

“I am fine,” you lied, though your trembling hands betrayed you.

The evening only worsened from there.

More and more, you felt the weight of curious glances, the whispers growing louder as the night wore on. The absence of Gojo’s attention did not go unnoticed—least of all by your mother, who approached you and Choso with a determined expression, her fan snapping shut with a sharp flick of her wrist.

The warmth of the ballroom’s lights could not thaw the ice that slipped down your spine as your mother approached. Her movements were poised as ever, but the tightness in her lips and the fury barely hidden in her eyes told you everything. She stopped just short of you, her fan snapping shut with a sharp click that made you flinch.

“Explain,” she hissed, her voice low enough to avoid drawing the attention of onlookers but sharp enough to carve into you.

Your breath caught in your throat. You glanced towards Choso for reinforcement, but his furrowed brow and subtle shake of his head told you he would not intervene—not yet.

“I… don’t understand, Mother,” you murmured, though the words tasted hollow even as you said them.

“Do not toy with me, child,” she snapped, her tone still hushed but more cutting. “The entire room is whispering. Where is Lord Gojo? Why has he not so much as glanced in your direction tonight? Why is he—” Her eyes darted to the waltz floor, where Gojo had just excused himself from yet another partner. “Why is he dancing with others while you stand here like a forgotten debutante?”

The words hit like a slap, and you flinched again, your gaze falling to your gloved hands. You wanted to speak, to explain, but the lump in your throat grew larger with every second.

Her voice softened but grew no less fierce. “What have you done?”

Your chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, you considered telling her everything—about the garden, about Gojo’s words, about how utterly humiliated you had felt. But then the heat of the ballroom pressed down on you, the glances from curious onlookers prickling your skin like needles.

You couldn’t. Not here.

So, you said nothing.

The silence between you stretched thin, your mother’s patience fraying with every passing moment. Finally, she straightened, her lips pressed into a pale line. “This is how you repay all that has been done for you?” she whispered, her voice trembling with restrained fury. “Do you even comprehend what this will do to your prospects? To this family? You have disgraced yourself, and worse—you have disgraced me.”

Her words left you hollow, the guilt settling into the spaces where indignation might have taken root. Still, you could not look up, nor could you summon any defense.

Your mother’s fan snapped open again with a sharp flick, the motion more violent than graceful. “We are leaving,” she declared, turning abruptly on her heel. “Now.”

Choso stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your elbow as if to steady you. You dared a glance at him, finding his gaze steady and quietly supportive. It was only his presence that kept your legs moving as you followed your mother toward the grand doors.

The weight of the room’s collective gaze bore down on you with every step. The music swelled in the background, mocking you with its cheerfulness. As you neared the exit, your feet faltered.

And then you saw him.

Gojo.

He stood near the edge of the dance floor, his posture uncharacteristically tense, his jaw clenched tightly, his usual easy confidence dimmed. His head tilted slightly, his eyes cutting through the crowd to meet yours.

Your breath hitched. In his gaze, you saw regret—yearning, even—and something else you couldn’t quite name.

But it didn’t matter.

You tore your eyes away, your jaw tightening as a steely resolve settled over you.

You would not break.

Not here. Not now. Not for him.

As you stepped into the cool night air, you drew in a deep breath, willing the ache in your chest to dissipate. Gojo Satoru had taken enough from you. Your heart, your dignity—no more.

If he thought you would crumble, he was mistaken.

He would regret this, you vowed silently.

And you would make certain of it.

The morning that came in a few days was no less disheartening than the night of the house party. The morning sun filtered weakly through the gauzy curtains of the drawing room, casting pale, lackluster patterns on the carpet. Even the sunlight seemed hesitant, as if it knew it had no place in the solemn atmosphere that hung over your family.

Even Yuji was solemn as you all sipped on your tea, the drawing room oddly quiet as you reflected in the aftermath of the past few days. The events of the house party still loomed over you. Your family’s hasty departure had been punctuated by the sight of your mother in whispered conversation with Duchess Gojo, their faces tight with the bitterness of dashed expectations. You had no doubt they had commiserated over your perceived recklessness and Gojo’s insolence, lamenting how the perfect match they had orchestrated had unraveled before their very eyes.

You had borne it all in silence.

But now, in the cold light of morning, your resolve felt brittle.

Your hands tightened around your teacup as you stared into the amber liquid, your reflection rippling with each shallow breath you took. Independence? That word felt hollow. You had fought for it, yes, but at what cost? The ton’s whispers had already begun. You could feel their weight pressing on you, suffocating in their judgment. The laughter and speculation at your expense would echo through parlors and ballrooms for weeks, if not months.

And yet, deep down, there was a spark of defiance. They thought this was your undoing. They thought you would crumble. But they had no idea.

"Why does it feel like we’re mourning?" Yuji muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, but the sarcasm was unmistakable. "It’s not as though anyone has died."

Your mother’s sigh this time was louder, sharper, and followed by a pointed glance in his direction. “Yuji, do not jest,” she snapped. "This is no laughing matter."

Choso, who had been reclining with one arm draped lazily over the armrest of his chair, sat up straighter. “Mother,” he said cautiously, his voice soft but steady, “I think it’s time we address what’s truly troubling you.”

Her handkerchief stilled in her lap. For a moment, the room was silent again, the tension thick enough to choke on.

“Troubling me?” she repeated, her tone icy. “You think I am troubled, Choso?”

“Everyone is troubled,” Choso replied, his gaze flicking briefly to you. "But perhaps if you said what’s on your mind, we could all breathe a little easier."

Your mother’s lips thinned as she sat up straighter, her shoulders stiff. “Very well,” she said sharply, “if you must know, I am ashamed.”

The word hit you like a slap, even though you had expected it. You gritted your teeth, staring down at your tea to hide the flush of anger and embarrassment creeping up your neck.

“Ashamed of what?” you asked quietly, your voice tighter than you intended.

“Of you,” she replied without hesitation. “Of the scandal you have brought upon this family. Do you think your actions have no consequences? Do you think the ton will simply overlook your…” She hesitated, clearly searching for the most cutting word. “Your antics with Lord Gojo?”

You felt Choso stiffen beside you, his protective instincts clearly flaring, but you held up a hand to stop him. You wouldn’t hide behind your brothers—not this time.

“I have done nothing wrong,” you said, your voice low but firm. “Gojo and I made a mutual decision that we were incompatible. We—”

“You humiliated yourself!” she interrupted, her voice rising. “And by extension, this family. Do you think people are speaking of him? No! It is you they ridicule. It is your name they sully.”

Your chest burned with anger and hurt, but before you could retort, Yuji shifted uncomfortably, muttering, “This is getting out of hand…”

“You think I care about their opinions?” you snapped, finally lifting your gaze to meet your mother’s. “The ton has always been cruel. They would find a reason to gossip no matter what I did. I refuse to live my life pandering to their expectations—”

“And look where that refusal has left you,” your mother interrupted, her voice shaking with fury. “Unmarried. Ruined. Who will have you now?”

You flinched, the words cutting deeper than you thought possible. Your lips parted, but no words came out. What could you possibly say to that?

The silence that followed was deafening.

Until a voice, smooth and amused, broke it.

“Now, now, Mother. I know you’ve always had a flair for the dramatic, but let us not turn your theatrics onto our dearest sister.”

All heads turned toward the entrance, where a figure lounged against the doorway, his presence commanding without even trying. There he stood—Sukuna, your brother, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who had kept you waiting for days. Both you and Yuji involuntarily gasped in excitement, while Choso only shook his head in amusement and crossed his arms.

He strode into the room with an air of nonchalance, his tailored attire immaculate, his smile one of mocking amusement. His gaze flicked to your mother, then to you, lingering for a moment as if to appraise the damage left in her wake.

“Good morning,” he said smoothly, the corners of his mouth curling. “I trust I’ve arrived in time to save you from a most tiresome sermon.”

Your mother bristled, but her voice faltered, her ire now redirected. “Sukuna, this is hardly the time for your irreverence—”

“And yet here I am,” he interrupted, dropping into a chair with the kind of ease that only Sukuna could muster. He leaned back, his sharp gaze softening just slightly as it fell on you. “I thought you might appreciate a reprieve. You seem to have had enough lectures for a lifetime.”

You could feel tears welling in your eyes. You had severely underestimated how much you missed your elder brother, seeing his presence stir a fondness and comfort you hadn’t felt ever since he left for Europe. And it seemed that your brothers shared your sentiment; Yuji was basically on his haunches, doing everything he could not to leave his chair to tackle Sukuna, and Choso barely holding in an amused smile.

“Still causing chaos wherever you go, I see,” Choso said dryly, though there was no malice in his tone.

Sukuna smirked. “Someone has to keep things interesting.”

Your mother huffed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she rose from her seat. “I refuse to be made a fool in my own home. Sukuna, do try not to corrupt your siblings further while I attend to matters of actual importance.” She swept out of the room with her usual imperious grace, leaving a silence in her wake.

As soon as she left, you left your chair to basically jumping on him, hugging him tightly as he reciprocated your hug with wrapping his big arms around yours with equal fervor. “Kuna,” you whispered, burying your face into his chest as the tears started flowing. His presence surrounded you, offering you a comfort and familiarity that the eventful weeks, ever since your debut, hadn’t offered

Sukuna looked down to you with a raised brow as he patted your head affectionately. “Well, that was entertaining. Now, who’s going to tell me what truly happened while I was gone?”

prev. the fall | next. the rebound

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a/n hi everyone!!! so i lied and said the update wasn't gonna take as long #womaninmalefields BUT thank you for your patience <3

so uh....we are now gonna enter the arc with DRAMAA. there will be yearning, there will be angst, and soon after, there will be fluff. idk if anyone needs to hear this, but, again, this series will have a happy ending. if anyone is sad, don't worry. i'm going to make gojo grovel <3

SUKUNA IS BACK SUKUNA IS BACK what do we think?! spoiler alert this is what sukuna will wanna do to gojo after reader spills the tea

THANK U FOR READING!!! rest assured reader a BADDIE there will be some showing ankles and lowering bustlines to start our reputation era and infuriate gojo but u didnt hear that from me !!!

comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3

TAGLIST:

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@extremelyexh4usted @yoshisaurmuchakoopas @nixiepixee @generalstephkenobi @vernasce-blogs

@byhuenii @geniejunn @a-girl-with-thoughts @dazedin2d @chuuqxs

@megumiivs @anthastudios @arranacosmist @arishaxml @jingyuun

@undercooked-chaos-noodle @jaegersity @camzzn @bluelai @1sweetheart1

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penascigarette · 2 months ago

Text

smooth operator ch 2. this bitch bites

Joel Miller x f!phone sex worker

➴wc: 7k | summary: you accidentally send a picture of yourself to joel which results in a video call

➴warnings: mdni, fxm phone sex, m&f masturbation, dirty talk

➴an: hi! tysm to everyone for all the love on the first part of this silly little series. I've been having so much fun writing and interacting with everyone. y'all are the best. feel free to come scream with me about this or anything <333

masterlist | series masterlist

For the rest of the night, your mind plays your conversation with Joel on repeat.

Elliot is asleep when you barge into his room, itching to share your dirty little secret. His limbs are sprawled like a starfish, his mouth hanging open, a light snore escaping him. He looks so peaceful that you decide against waking him. Instead, you sneak back to your room, feeling as if you'll explode if you don't tell someone soon. You’re a talker, and keeping this bottled up feels like pure torture.

Blowing a breath out, you stare up at the ceiling. How you feel isn’t easy to explain.

Your body is more satisfied than it’s been in a long time, aching for more.

Your heart agrees, thrilled at the thought of a forbidden relationship with this sexy, mysterious man. It hasn’t felt much since your last boyfriend—only pain and disappointment.

Your head, though, is another story. It reminds you how much trouble you could get into. Jane has a strict no-relationships rule between workers and clients, fearing the temptation to give free "sessions" or show favoritism. She’s all business, no play.

Dread swirls in your stomach. What you’ve done is dangerous, even if it was ridiculously mind-blowing. Joel wants a repeat; if you deny him, he could tell Jane.

You could always deny it… say it was just part of the act.

But your heart hates that thought. Even considering letting Joel down makes it ache as if you’ve already done it. How can you feel so much for someone after one phone call?

Because it’s exciting, the bad girl in you whispers.

You’ll get into trouble, your rational side argues, but it’s outnumbered.

Think about how amazing he made you feel, your body chimes in, tingling in remembrance. You came harder than ever, and he didn’t even touch you.

“God,” you groan, pressing your palms into your eyes until they hurt and you see funny lights. “I need sleep.” With no way to figure it out on your own, you know you need Elliot. For now, you push the thoughts away and try to rest.

Before you open your eyes, you know you’ve woken up ridiculously early. Something feels different—a sensation you can’t quite place.

You don’t have the cozy, half-asleep feeling you usually enjoy. The blankets aren’t warm or soft enough, and you’re itching to get up and do something. So, you throw the covers off, get dressed, and spend extra time on your hair and makeup. The effort gives you a bounce in your step, though the knot of unease in your gut remains.

Grabbing your phone, you head to the bathroom, use the toilet, and brush your teeth. There’s no noise from Elliot’s room—you doubt he’ll wake up for another hour. You go downstairs instead.

The kettle is still full from yesterday, so you flick it on and get your coffee ready. You debate making breakfast but decide against it—eating without Elliot feels wrong.

Less than a minute later, the water boils. You pour it into your mug, watching the steam rise before curling up on the sofa.

Being awake this early makes you feel like you could get so much done. Maybe you’ll work out after coffee, or tidy up and throw out the takeaway boxes before more clutter piles up.

But your mind drifts back to Joel. You wonder about his morning routine. Does he put effort into his appearance because he’s good with women? You imagine him with a six-pack… God, you hope he has one.

No, stop, you think, shaking your head. What does it matter? But the thought of him only makes your fantasies steamier.

Your plans are forgotten, and you spend an hour imagining every inch of him. You don’t even notice your coffee going cold until Elliot flops onto the sofa beside you.

“There you are,” he says groggily, rubbing his eyes. “Ooh, you made coffee.” Without asking, he takes your mug, grimacing after a sip. “This is cold. How long have you been sitting here?”

“About an hour,” you admit with a shrug.

“Oh.” His brows lift. “How come, honey?” Concern laces his tone.

“I have something to tell you.” Finally, the words spill out, and you shift to face him.

“Did you finally shave your legs?” he asks, deadpan, taking another sip of coffee.

“Shut up. It hasn’t been that long, okay? This is serious.”

“Fine.” He smirks. “Go on.”

“I had phone sex last night.”

His brow furrows. “Sweetie, phone sex is your job. Are you feeling okay?” He places a hand on your forehead.

You roll your eyes, batting his hand away. “Not like that! I got off with him.”

Elliot’s jaw drops. “You… you flicked your bean to a client?”

Guiltily, you nod. “In my defense, he has the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. And he’s amazing at talking dirty. Better than me!”

“Really?” Elliot’s skepticism is written all over his face.

You nod, leaning closer. “He said things like… ‘spread yourself open’ and ‘you’re such a good girl for me.’ He even told me to force my clit out of its hood! Most guys don’t even know what a that is!”

Elliot blinks, grabbing a cushion to cover his lap. “I completely understand.”

You laugh, though the thought of getting in trouble dampens your mood.

Elliot waves dismissively. “Just don’t tell anyone. I won’t either. In fact, I expect details from future calls.”

You snort. "I don't know if there will be any more."

He looks at you like you've grown another head. "Why?"

"Because I don't want to get in trouble for this," you admit, biting your lip for a moment. "Even if it was incredible."

"You won't get into trouble." He sounds so sure. "Seriously. I may or may not...have done the same thing. More than once," he mumbles the last part.

"What!?" you exclaim, wondering how the hell you're only just hearing about this. "Why haven't you told me?" You poke your bottom lip out at him. "You're keeping a lot of secrets from me lately."

He pinches your lip between his thumb and forefinger, forcing you to pull it back into your mouth. "I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I don't tell you every time I jack off to porn, now do I? As for my date with Danny, I told you as soon as I had the balls to."

"But it is a huge deal," you argue.

"Yeah, to you, but...you're a bit of a prude."

"I am not. How can you be a prude when you work as a phone sex operator?”

"You are," he teases lightly. "When you had that one-night stand after you and Ben broke up, you cried for three days."

Your shoulders slump, and you mumble, "I was ashamed."

"Well, you shouldn't be," he says firmly. "There's nothing to be ashamed of. Sex is beautiful. And fun."

"That's easy for you to say," you point out. "You're a man. Women get labeled and judged." And oh boy, do you hate being judged. It's why you don't tell people what you do for a living.

He softens at that. "You shouldn't be so worried about what people think of you. You only live once."

"I know," you mumble, not knowing what to say to that. Because it's true—you shouldn't be so concerned about others' thoughts of you—but it's not something you can just switch off. You change the subject. "So tell me about the times you've...you know." You know it’ll make you feel better.

"Well," he licks his lips and puts one hand on the back of the sofa while the other holds his coffee. "The first time, I can't even remember his name. He called when I was in the middle of getting off, and we ended up getting off together with my porno playing."

You both laugh at that.

"The second time," he continues, a certain fondness in his tone. "Was this guy called 'K.' I don't know why. There was just this... attraction, and we did it. Then it just became this thing."

You frown in confusion. "A thing? Does that mean you still do it?"

"Yep," he pops the 'p' with a grin. "He doesn't call very often, though."

"I can't believe..." you break into a breathless chuckle because here you are, worrying your ass off, and it's actually no big deal. Well, as long as Jane doesn't find out. "This is crazy."

"Maybe," Elliot shrugs and then wiggles his eyebrows. "But isn't it so much more fun that way?"

You have to agree.

___________

That night, you find yourself itching for Joel 's call. You’ve even stripped yourself naked in preparation. If that’s not eager, you don’t know what is.

Every time your phone rings, your heart leaps into your throat. It's ridiculous to act like this because of a man you don’t even know, but for some mysterious reason, he's caught your attention, and you're not letting him go anytime soon.

When it turns out it’s not him on the other end of the line, you find yourself entertaining the idea that he lied when he said he’d call again tonight. Maybe he only said it to keep you happy, or he hadn’t known what else to say.

Although he seemed interested. Interested enough to ask for your real name...you’re not counting him out quite yet. The night isn't over.

It takes another two phone calls before his name finally flashes on your screen.

Almost immediately, your stomach twists with excitement, and an ache starts to form between your legs. You're nervous but in a good way. It reminds you of the very first time you had phone sex with a client. When you manage to calm yourself down, you answer the phone, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Hey, you." Does that sound okay? You hope so.

"Hey," he greets, his voice wobbling just a little. Maybe he feels the same way you do. "How've you been?"

You blink, momentarily stunned. Did he really just ask that? None of your clients ever ask how you’re doing. Not that you’re complaining—it’s nice to be treated like an actual human being instead of just a way to get off.

"I'm great," you say honestly. "What about you?"

"Much better now," he replies, and you bite the corner of your lip to keep a goofy smile from breaking through. "I have to say, I've been thinking about you all damn day. Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk around with a near-constant boner?"

You’re already gushing down below. Squeezing your thighs shut at the image he’s planted in your mind, you reply breathlessly, "Can't say I have, but I know what it's like walking around with a fountain in your panties all day long."

His laugh is dark. "A fountain? Sounds like someone's been thinking naughty thoughts."

"More than one, actually."

"Mm," he hums in approval. You hear rustling in the background as if he’s settling in. "Tell me one of them."

There are so many to choose from, but one stands out. "Okay," you say, licking your lips. "But you can't laugh, okay?"

"I wouldn't dare," he assures, though you can hear the amusement in his voice.

"Right." You take a deep breath. "So... it's a student-teacher fantasy."

"Ah," he responds knowingly.

"Yeah, so, you're the teacher, and I'm the student." Christ, you can’t believe you’re actually saying this. It feels stupid and embarrassing—so much easier to talk about other people’s fantasies than your own. "I have detention, and it’s just you and me in the classroom. You’re looking over schoolwork, and since you’re distracted, I decide to, you know."

"Say it." It’s a command, and the increase in his breathing tells you this is getting him just as hot as it gets you.

"I play with my pussy," you admit, scraping your teeth along your bottom lip. "I slip my hand down my panties, find my clit, pinch it, and rub it. I hold back my moans because I don’t want you to hear." Without realizing it, your eyes shut, and your hands wander down your body, acting out the fantasy. You’re already wet—so wet it surprises you, soaking your thighs and dampening the sheets.

"Fuck," he draws the word out. "You think you’re being quiet, but you’re not, Princess. And your pussy’s so fucking wet I can smell it from my desk."

"God," you choke out, your breath hitching. "I don’t care that you know. I’m too close—I don’t even care if you see." You’re not lying; you’re so close, but not ready to finish yet. Leaving your clit alone for a moment, you slide two fingers inside yourself—they glide in easily. "In fact, I move further down the chair and spread my legs so you can see what I’m doing."

Both of you are worked up now. You hear him stroking himself hard in the background.

He growls dangerously. "I know exactly what you want, Princess. I come over to you, throw the table out of my way, and sink to my knees. You’re so fucking wet I can see everything through your white panties. It’s clinging to your slit and your poor swollen clit."

"God."

"My whole mouth slots over your creaming cunt, and I suck the sweet juices through your panties."

Your pussy clenches hard around your fingers. "Jesus Christ. You’re so good." Your hand is practically swimming in your own cum.

"Your hard little nub doesn’t stand a chance against my tongue, and I have you gushing into my mouth in under ten seconds."

You have no self-control. You don’t want to come yet, but your hand has a mind of its own. Before you know it, you’re going over the edge.

"Ohmygod, Joel !" you squeak embarrassingly, thighs shaking around your hand as you rock your hips, trying to prolong the sensation.

"Did you come?" he asks, both amused and proud.

"You didn’t give me much choice," you reply weakly, tiny waves of pleasure still coursing through you as your hand lingers.

"Hey, I’m not complaining, trust me," he says. "The sounds you make when you come are heaven, baby."

You blow a stray piece of hair off your face and finally pull your fingers out. "Have you come? Do you want to keep going?" you ask. "I didn’t even get to the part where I give you an epic blowjob."

"Please, by all means, continue."

You grin. "All right. So after that mind-blowing orgasm, I kiss you so I can taste myself on your lips."

"Fuck, that’s hot, Princess." You hear him stroke himself faster.

"And I grab your tie, walking you back to your desk. I make you sit down." The thought of touching him excites you all over again, and you circle a nipple with one finger. "I kneel between your thighs and unzip your pants. Your dick is so hard it’s leaking pre-cum through your underwear." God, you’re desperate to taste it. You tell him that, too.

"Keep going," he orders, his voice strained.

You do. "I lick the fabric, but it’s not enough. I grab your cock and bring it to my lips. God, you’re fucking delicious. I rub the head all over my lips, needing to taste more of your cum." Shamefully, you mean every word.

"I’m so close, Princess," he groans, his pace quickening. "Just a little more."

"I take you into my wet, warm mouth. You’re so big and hard I can barely fit my lips around you. I hollow my cheeks and suck like I would a lollipop, my tongue stroking underneath your shaft. I can feel you getting close because you start pulsing in my mouth. I go faster, wanting to feel you spill down my throat."

He finally releases with a harsh moan. "Damn, Princess."

You blurt out your name correcting him before you can stop yourself.

He’s still catching his breath. "What was that?"

You repeat your name, unsure if this is a good idea but knowing it’s too late to turn back. "It’s my name."

He repeats it smoothly, the name rolling off his tongue. "Pretty name for a pretty girl."

You scoff, rolling your eyes to stop yourself from smiling. "You don’t know if I’m pretty or not."

"I don’t have to see you to know you’re beautiful."

His words touch you, but you doubt he’s worked all this out after just two phone calls. You humor him anyway. "That’s sweet of you to say."

"I better get going. Gotta get up for work in the morning," he says with a genuine yawn.

"Oh?" you ask, curiosity piqued. "What do you do?"

"I’m a fireman."

Your eyes widen, and you instantly regret asking. Now you’ll be up all night fantasizing about him in uniform. "Oh god, that’s sexy," you blurt out.

"I’m glad you think so," he chuckles. "Maybe we can work it into our role-play tomorrow?"

"That’s a fantastic idea," you agree eagerly.

"All right," he laughs. "Seriously, I gotta go. Sweet dreams princess."

"Yeah," you reply, already looking forward to the next conversation. "You too, Joel."

__________________

"Tell me how big you are," you demand lightly, still tingling blissfully from your orgasm. You finally remove your hand from between your legs and use your damp fingers to trace circles around your hard nipples.

Joel laughs, the sound a mixture of arousal and embarrassment. "It's probably going to sound like I'm bullshitting, but... seven and a half inches."

You decide to believe him. Sure, he could very well be lying—lots of guys do. Practically every man you talk to claims to have a big dick. It’s all part of the fantasy. But Joel feels different. "Wow... that's huge."

Your body responds instinctively, a clench of anticipation as you imagine how full he could make you feel.

"Yeah... well, I've had no complaints," he says, sounding both bashful and proud.

"You sure?" you tease. "I bet there have been a few comments about you being too big or going too deep."

He laughs again. "When I was younger, yeah, but I learned pretty quickly that every woman is different. I like to get a feel for her using my fingers first, see how much she can handle."

You can’t help it; a vivid image of his fingers working you over, his muscular arm straining against your thigh as he tests your limits, flashes in your mind. Jesus, you could come again just from that thought. You stumble out a response. "Oh, I, uh... yeah, that’s good of you."

"Only fair. They're lettin' me have sex with them, least I can do is make sure they damn well enjoy it."

What a gentleman, you think. How many men actually care if a woman is enjoying herself? In your experience, they get off without a second thought for you.

"I wish more men were like you," you tell him honestly.

"Well... I wish more women were like you."

That catches you off guard. "Really? In what way?"

"I don’t know... you’re just so open. Sexually, I mean. You’re not afraid to tell me what you like. You’ve got a great laugh, too. And you’re so damn easy to talk to. I feel like I could tell you everything."

The words make your heart flutter. Compliments from clients are nothing new, but they usually run along the lines of, "You’re so good at talking dirty," or, "You made me come so hard." None of them are as sweet or genuine as what Joel just said.

And none of them make you think about how easily you could fall for him.

As soon as the thought enters your mind, you push it away. How ridiculous. There’s no way you should be falling for a man you’ve never met. You don’t even know what he looks like. Having a crush is one thing, but love? God, I’m turning into one of those women who fall for anyone just because they say the right things.

And the saddest part? You’re pretty sure Joel isn’t even trying.

"Princess? You still there?"

His voice pulls you from your spiral. You don’t know how long you’ve been silent, but the realization is both embarrassing and unprofessional. You’re wasting his time—and his money.

"Sorry, Joel," you apologize. "I totally zoned out. I -I’ll refund you for the call."

"Don’t worry about that," he says quickly. "Please, be honest with me. Did I make you uncomfortable? I didn’t mean to overstep—"

Oh, god, he’s so sweet. You cut him off. "No, no! I swear, you didn’t. I was just... surprised, that’s all," you reassure him. "I really appreciate it. And... I feel the same way." You bite your lip. You hadn’t meant to reveal so much, but the words tumble out before you can stop them. "I feel like... I’ve known you forever."

"I’m glad," he says, relief evident in his tone. "Was worried I’d freaked you out."

"Not at all," you reply with a soft smile.

The conversation settles into a comfortable silence. The reality of your situation dawns on you: You’re discussing feelings—real feelings—with a client. A man you’ve never met. You don’t know his last name. It’s been, what, a week?

But you want to know him. Desperately. Maybe you’re crazy. Maybe you’re just lonely. Or maybe you need something deeper than the physical connection you’re used to.

The sound of a beeping line breaks the moment. "Damn it," Joel curses. "They need me at work. I’ve got to go."

Immediately, you feel a pang of guilt. He didn’t even get to finish. "Listen," you say impulsively, "I’m going to text you my personal number, okay? When you have a chance, call me, and we’ll finish what we started."

There’s a pause. "Wow," he says finally. "That would be amazing. I could text you throughout the day, too... only if you want, of course. Don’t wanna cross any boundaries."

If anything, it's you crossing boundaries. “I’d love that." You respond honestly, your heart fluttering and a fuzzy feeling settles in your belly. You really like him, don't you? Crap.

He chuckles, and you can almost hear his grin. "Good."

—-------‐

How'd the baking go? You still alive?

You breathe out a laugh as you open and read Joel's text. It's been about a week since you gave him your number, and you haven't regretted it for a second.

Like shit, I can't have cooked it long enough because it was still gooey in the middle. But we're all still alive...for now.

You send the text before glancing over at the modeling shoot, which is now where your living room used to be. White material hangs from metal frames, creating a backdrop for the pictures. Standing lights are positioned opposite. The photographer your mom hired is here, and your house is his studio.

Elliot is currently looking through the outfits he and your mom spent all of yesterday shopping for, now hung from a clothes rail. Some of them are latex and kinky as hell, others flimsy and revealing.

Your mom is busy pulling on a gray mini skirt. She’s already wearing stockings, a white, revealing blouse, and a tight gray blazer that cuts off at the elbows. You know she has a pair of glasses to complete her sexy secretary look. All she needs is a messy updo, and she’ll be ready to go.

You have to admit, the fake breasts she bought five years ago look fantastic in that shirt. You’re almost jealous. They look better than yours.

Elliot, meanwhile, is shirtless, with a pair of leather pants covering his bottom half. He looks amazing. His hair is messy, like he just had sex, and he’s debating with your mom whether or not he should use some eyeliner to make himself look darker and more mysterious.

You remain firm in your decision to stay out of the photo shoot. Even though you wouldn’t have to be naked, the idea doesn’t sit well with you. People could recognize you—friends from school, old work colleagues, or that bitch who stole your favorite hair clip in swimming class when you were a teen. The thought of any of them knowing—or worse, judging—what you do for a living makes you die a little inside, even though you know in your heart it’s nothing to be ashamed of. You’re just too sensitive, you guess.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, signaling an incoming text, and you glance down at the screen, your attention no longer on the shoot. It’s Joel again.

Ah... remind me to do all the baking if I ever work up the courage to ask you out.

Your lips part in shock before they curve slowly. He wants to ask you out? Wow… you trap your bottom lip between your teeth as you type your response.

Deal. You finding that courage any time soon?

You hesitate, then press send before locking your phone and leaning your elbows on the counter in front of you. Your eyes follow your mother’s movements as she practices poses in front of a large, stand-up mirror. You’re on kitchen duty since you’re neither a model nor a photographer, which means it’s your job to keep their coffee topped up.

“What do you think?” Elliot asks, his question floating to no one in particular as he studies himself in a small pocket-sized mirror. A black eyeliner pencil sits in his other hand.

You tilt your head, examining his eyes. One is framed in sharp black, while the other remains untouched. “Go with the eyeliner,” you say after a moment. “It matches your leather look.” You gesture toward his trousers.

Without looking up, Elliot starts lining his other eye. “Thanks, babe.”

You curl your lips in a faint reply, even though he can’t see it. Your phone buzzes again, and you quickly check the message on the screen.

I'm working on it ;)

Good. I'm looking forward to it ;)

You bite your lip, trying to hide your excitement. You don’t want your mom catching onto your texts; without a doubt, she’d know you’re talking to a guy. Then she’d question you until you gave up the goods.

A ping behind you sounds, reminding you that you were in the process of making another round of coffee. Slipping your phone into your pocket, you decide you’d better get the coffee addicts their fix.

The photo shoot ends up being a success—not that you were expecting anything different. They could have been real models, and it makes you wonder why they didn’t pursue a career in it. They’re honestly naturals.

And oh my god, your mom—you’re laughing now—manages to get a date with the photographer. He has to be about ten years younger than her. Not that it stops him, of course. You and Elliot can’t help but exchange glances and giggle knowingly when it’s your mom’s turn to be photographed. The poor guy can’t take his eyes off her.

You hope it goes well, of course, but you doubt he’ll end up being anything more than a fling. Your mom just isn’t one to settle down. Not since your dad walked out when you were a baby and left her with a broken heart. You think she lost her faith in men after that.

Not that your experience with men is much better. Your ex was an asshole who killed your confidence and then cheated on you with someone you had considered your best friend at the time. Pretty clichéd, you know. But unlike your mom, you still have hope that a Prince Charming will come along and sweep you off your feet.

And just maybe, that Prince could be Joel.

Yes, okay, it was still early days to be thinking like that but sometimes...you just know, you know? There’s a fluttering in your stomach—a warmth, a feeling of pure happiness, safety, and understanding. It’s not the same as those first-date butterflies you had with your ex, when everything was exciting and new. No, this is something different, something deeper. You can’t quite explain how—it just is.

"Hey, you’ve got a package down here!" Elliot sing-songs from downstairs, pulling you out of your thoughts.

A package? What could it—Oh! You remember the top you ordered online and let out an excited squeal. Quickly, you step out of the shower. You were finished in there anyway.

"Coming!" you call down to Elliot, quickly drying yourself off and slipping into your plain black bra and underwear. You rub the towel through your hair, barely giving a thought to your state of undress as you head downstairs. Elliot wouldn’t care, anyway.

As you step into the room, Elliot whistles from the sofa, his legs tucked underneath him and one arm draped along the back. “Looking hot, girl!” he teases, flashing you a playful grin.

“Thanks, babe.” You lean over the back of the sofa and snag the package from his lap. Tearing open the grey plastic bag, you start digging through it eagerly.

“What’d you get?” Elliot asks, his curiosity piqued.

“Remember that top I showed you and Julie? The white one with ‘This Bitch Bites!’ written on the front?” Your fingers brush soft material, and you pull it free with a triumphant grin. Tossing the plastic to the floor, you hold the top up to admire it.

Elliot throws his head back in laughter. “You didn’t!”

“Oh, I did.” You flip the shirt around, showing it off with a dramatic flourish.

Elliot gasps as if it’s the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen. “I fucking love it! Do they have it in my size?” He reaches out to pinch the fabric between his fingers, giving it an approving nod. “Ooh, I like the material, too.”

“Yeah, I think so,” you say, gathering the shirt in your hands and pulling it over your head. You smooth it down and strike a pose, hands on your hips. “What do you think?”

"Your boobs look awesome in that." Elliot nods approvingly. "Oh! Gimme your phone. I'll take a pic, and you can send it to Julie. I bet she'll wanna see it." He holds out his hand, wiggling his fingers expectantly.

You instinctively reach for your pockets, but your fingers brush against bare skin, reminding you that your clothes—and your phone—are upstairs. "I'll go get it," you say, heading off.

After sending the picture, you grab a quick snack before making your way back upstairs. Your hair is still damp from the shower, and you know you need to dry it before it starts frizzing.

You sit at your dresser, plug in your hair dryer, and get ready to turn it on when your phone vibrates with an incoming message. Setting the dryer down, you pick up your phone to check the text.

Damn, I hope she does, was the response, leaving you confused.

Julie doesn’t text like that. You know how she is—always shortening her words until they’re barely readable, leaving you and Elliot to figure out what she actually means. And commas? Forget it. She probably doesn’t even know what one is.

You scrunch your nose, confused, your thumb hovering over the screen to text her back when another message pops up. This time, it’s from Joel.

You're fucking beautiful, by the way.

Okay, so that’s kind of creepy. How the fuck does he know what you look like? That’s when it hits you— the previous text was from Joel, not Julie like you’d assumed.

“Oh no…” you breathe, your fingers scrambling to scroll up through the conversation. And there it is. The picture Elliot took of you. You, wearing nothing but your white this bitch bites! shirt and black panties, your chest pushed forward so the writing stretches smooth across the fabric. And that picture? It’s been sent to Joel. Not Julie.

You growl out loud, “I’m going to kill Elliot,” your heart pounds like crazy. You spring to your feet, panic surging through you as you pace back and forth, trying to form a coherent thought. Did he do it on purpose? No, surely he wouldn’t—okay, yeah, he probably would. You groan loudly, covering your face with your hands before falling backward onto the bed. You land with a bounce.

And just when you think it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the realization hits you. “I’m not even wearing makeup, Elliot!” you shout, your voice full of despair.

You know you should respond to Joel, but you're way too busy freaking the hell out.

He knows what you look like. That’s bad. So very bad. Why exactly it’s bad, you’re not sure. But the black hole churning in your stomach insists it is.

He thinks you’re beautiful, a calmer part of your mind whispers blissfully. Without makeup. That part makes you ridiculously happy. But it’s still bad…right?

Gnawing on your bottom lip, you try to think clearly. So what if he knows what you look like? It’s not like he can track you down with just an image. Sure, okay, he also knows your first name, but you don’t even have social media. Good luck with that, buddy!

...Really? Come on.

You shake your head at yourself. You know Joel wouldn’t do anything like that. You’re just freaking out and thinking irrationally. He’s a good guy, and you trust him. If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have given him your real number.

Breathing in deeply, you lift your phone to your face and read his messages again.

Damn, I hope she does.

You're fucking beautiful, by the way.

This time, you allow yourself to smile, embracing the warmth that fills your stomach at his words. He’s so sweet, with just the right amount of dirty. He hopes you’re a biter... Naughty pictures flood your mind, and you squeeze your thighs together. You’d be a biter for him any day.

Your thumbs hover over the touch-screen keyboard as you consider what to respond to him. Deciding that honesty is the best policy, you go with:

Sorry about that! It was meant for my girl friend but my other friend is a total dick. I don't make a habit of sending half-naked pics to guys. I'm glad you like it though :)

A thought pops into your head, and you quickly type:

Since you've got a pic of me...maybe you'll be open to sharing one of you?

You nibble at your fingernail as you wait for his response. You hope you didn't make him uncomfortable by asking for a picture, but you honestly do want one of him. You're curious about what he could look like. You have an image of him in your head, but you dare say it wouldn't look anything like him. A few seconds later, you get a reply.

Ah, that makes sense. I did think it was a bit odd since you never mentioned anything about us exchanging pictures. I'm glad it happened, though. Maybe I should be thanking your friend ;)

Your lips curl as you get ready to send him a response when another text comes through.

Sure, you can have one of me as long as you'll excuse my appearance. It's It’s been a rough day at work, and I haven’t had a chance to shower yet.

Again, you start typing your reply, your heart jumping into your throat at the thought of finally seeing his face when yet another text comes through. But this time, it isn’t words; it’s a picture. The picture you’ve been waiting for.

Your lips part and your heart falls back into your chest, doing a funny little dance. A slow breath escapes you as you can't tear your eyes away from the selfie he sent you.

Gorgeous doesn't even begin to describe him. whiskey-colored eyes, lips so full it almost looks like he's pouting. A day or two's worth of stubble covers his lower face.

He looks tired but still manages a small, lopsided smile for you. His hair is a mess as if he's spent a good portion of the day running his fingers through it. Full lips and dark eyes. The picture is taken directly in front, and you can see his large Adam’s apple and broad shoulders. His shirt, from what you can make out, is completely white.

“Oh my god,” you mutter in astonishment. Honestly… the guy looks like a model. You find it hard to believe someone like him needs a sex operator to get off. He must have women falling all over him. He's a firefighter for fuck’s sake. It's like every girl’s wet dream.

It makes you wonder if he's telling the truth, or if he's been lying all along and knows exactly how to draw a girl in.

Worried and paranoid, you bite your bottom lip and finally text him back.

Is that really you? Or are you screwing with me?

His reply doesn't come in the shape of a text. Instead, you get a notification about an incoming video call.

Your eyes widen, and your first instinct is to reject it. Having just gotten out of the shower, your hair is wet, and your face is make-up-free. You don’t want him to see you this way, but then you remember that he’s already seen the picture you—well, Elliot—sent him. So, you accept it. It can’t have put him off that much since he's still talking to you.

It takes a moment for the call to connect, and you bite your lip harder.

And then there he is, looking just like he did in his photo. This proves that he'd definitely just taken it moments before, and it was definitely him. You feel guilty for doubting him.

"Wow." His full lips twist into a big smile. "Hey there, beautiful."

Your butterflies return with a vengeance, and you grin back so hard your cheeks hurt. "Hey, handsome." You know your face is burning but you don't even care. You're nervous and aren't afraid to admit it. This is a big step for both of you. Who wouldn't have some kind of nerves? The hand holding your phone up shakes slightly.

He chuckles, rubbing his fingers over his lips. "I can't believe I'm actually looking at you. It's crazy. You're so gorgeous. You're perfect."

Your entire body buzzes at his words, warmth filling you. "Coming from you? You're so fucking sexy I thought you'd sent me a fake picture!"

You both laugh, the sound full of excitement, anxiety, and amazement. "No, no. I would never do that. I'm glad you approve though, I was worried I wouldn't be your type."

You splutter, "Dude...you have to be everyone's type." The nervous laughter continues. Neither of you really knows what to say or how to react, but you can't stop looking at each other with goofy expressions. "How was your day?" you finally decide to ask, figuring that maybe a more casual conversation might help you both get over the shock.

"My day?" He was grinning still, shaking his head. "My day...this has got to be the best day of my damned life."

It’s so sweet you could almost cry. Almost sobbing with tears in your eyes, you respond, “I know the feeling.”

You’re both too overwhelmed to have a normal conversation. You stay on the phone for hours, mostly admiring each other, smiling like idiots, and commenting on your disbelief of the situation. You’re in awe of each other, that much is obvious. Time quickly flies by, and you notice Joel starts to grow more tired by the second.

"Why don’t you get some sleep?" you suggest softly, one hand tucked under your cheek as you lay on your side, snuggled up underneath your duvet. You continue to hold the phone in front of you.

He groans and rubs his eye with his knuckles. It’s adorable to see. "I should...I really, really should." His hand drops, and he focuses on the phone, flashing you a sleepy smile. "But that means hanging up...and I don’t think I’m ready to leave you yet."

You giggle quietly, feeling genuinely happy. "I know the feeling," you say. "But it's getting late, and you have work in the morning. I promise we'll talk again tomorrow night. Plus, I'll be texting you all day, you know that."

He chuckles. "Damn, I just can't get rid of you, can I?" He teases.

"Nope." You pop the 'p', grinning back. "You're stuck with me now."

He sighs dramatically. "What have I gotten myself into?" You both laugh once more. "I'm joking, of course. Who'd wanna get rid of a gorgeous girl like you?"

You hide your face in your shoulder. "Stop, you'll make me go all giddy," you warn him, half serious.

He grins. "That's not gonna make me stop, princess. You're too cute when you're all giddy."

"Oh, Joel ," you sigh lovingly before you realize what you're doing. You can't help it though. He makes you feel so good. So joyful. You can't ever remember having this feeling. It’s as if you're on top of the world.

"Darlin," he purrs back, and your belly flutters. You fall into a small silence, and for a moment, just smile at each other. It’s actually pretty cheesy.

"We should go," you whisper reluctantly.

He nods. "Yeah, you're probably right."

"Good night, handsome." Moving the hand tucked under your cheek to your mouth, you blow him a kiss.

He chuckles and acts as if he grabs it before placing it onto his lips and blowing one back to you. "Goodnight, pretty girl."

Taglist: @pedrito-is-punk7 @bitchytimetravelqueen @wh0reforbucknasty @joelsrose @justajoelsreader

@guelyury @bbyanarchist @untamedheart81 @ro-nahime-things @peepawispunk

#joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction

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chelliebelle · 12 days ago

Text

mean colonel!caleb who loves giving the new recruits a hard time, especially the pretty ones. when you come in with a pretty face and nice tits, how can he resist? (cw: dubcon?? power dynamics, caleb is pretty mean in this)

he’s relentless during drills, always seeming to pick on you over all the others. caleb gives you extra push-ups on a whim just to hear you groan in pain. the sight of you on the verge of tears from his nasty insults never fails to get him hard, especially when you start getting all quiet and nervous around him. you’re just so sweet and pliable that caleb can’t resist fucking around with you! after a few weeks, he decides he has to break you.

in his office, he berates you for ranking last in all the assessments, threatening to send you home for such poor results. thankfully, you don’t notice him palming himself under the desk as he breaks the news. you immediately break down, pleading and begging for caleb to give you another chance—you’d do anything! it isn’t until you’re on your knees in front of him that you realize what anything really means. when you try to leave, his gravity evol keeps you glued to the ground. the tears running down your face only makes him click his tongue in disapproval.

“stop fucking crying and show me why you deserve to stay.”

he’s nice enough to undo his belt buckle for you, forcing you to drag down his zipper with your teeth. you mouth at the strained bulge in his boxers, lips trembling against him. it takes a while but you manage to pull his boxers down, leaky cock slapping against your cheek. caleb almost chuckles at the sight. he’s big and he knows it, with a girth that made your jaw sore and a length that made your eyes water whenever it prodded the back of your throat. you try to be good for him, licking up all the salty pre and bobbing your head enthusiastically. caleb seems satisfied, until your teeth accidentally graze his cock. you’re fucked.

a gloved hand tangles in your hair, hips thrusting forward until your nose brushes against his pelvis. your choked sobs only seem to turn him on, making sure to hit the spongy back of your throat with every thrust.

“you don’t even have any technique, how am i gonna come?” caleb growls, though the twitch of his cock tells you otherwise. you struggle to breathe, eyes glassy as he uses your mouth like a dollar store pocket pussy.

he holds your head down when hot streams of cum shoot down your throat, nearly making you gag. you’re shoved off his cock with a wet pop! as you cough and try to catch your breath. caleb grabs your jaw, shoving his thumb in your mouth to make you stick your tongue out. when he sees that you swallowed all his seed, a cruel smile tugs at his lips.

“looks like you’re still worth something, rookie.”

author's note: THIS MIGHT BE OOC BUT WHO CARES I SAW THE CLIP WHERE CALEB MAKES SOMEONE KNEEL WITH HIS EVOL AND I JUST KNEW IT'D BE PERFECT FOR HIM TO FORCE A PRETTY RECRUIT TO BLOW HIM <333 hope y'all like this tysm for all the love on this blog!!

#lads smut #chelle's drabbles #caleb smut #love and deepspace #cw #caleb love and deepspace #lads #love and deepspace smut #caleb x you #caleb x reader

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shawtuzi · 1 month ago

Text

this is just a little tease to see how ppl like it—feedback is always appreciated and encouraged <333 but anyways this is 18+ so mdni thank yew (boarder credit @/bernardsbendystraws

“g-guys,” you mewled against choso’s lips, gasping when he slithered his tongue into your drooling mouth. a groan rumbled in his chest when he felt your bare breasts push into him. armin was sloppily leaving kisses all across your neck, the smell of your strawberry poundcake scented perfume making him dizzy.

“jus’ shut up for a sec o-okay? we wanna play with you” you felt the tickle of armin’s lips against your neck. you felt utterly powerless as the two man groped you as if you were nothing but a toy—in this case i guess you were in a way.

armin’s hands were now palming at your breasts, his skilled fingers tweaking your sensitive nipples. you used choso’s broad shoulders to keep you steady as he sucked on your tongue, the wispy hairs from his disheveled bun tickling your face. “she’s tastes like strawberries,” choso moaned against your mouth, his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip.

“here have a taste.”

choso forced your head to face armin’s, his lips immediately smashing into yours. his tongue slithered into your mouth, swirling around yours, he chuckled lowly against your lips before pulling away. “so sweet,” he panted, running his index and middle finger over your lips before shoving them into your mouth. you gagged around the digits, hot tears springing to your lash line.

you jumped when you heard a thud against the door. armin pulled your backside closely into in his front, choso stepping forward to be just as close to you. “someone’s gunna hear usss,” you whined, bucking your hips forward when you felt armin’s slender fingers toy with the waistband on your panties.

“good i hope t-they d-do,” armin couldn’t contain the whine that slipped past his lips when he felt the warmth of your panty clad cunt press against the semi in his jeans.

you were supposed to be enjoying the party outside, dancing the night away with your two boyfriends but they had . . . other ideas.

they were insatiable when it came to you—always craving the tangy taste of your cum on their lips or the wet, tight heat of your pussy around their dicks. they were virgins when they became your boyfriends so of course the three of you were practically joined at the hip. they always craved you it didn’t matter what time of day it was, and you gave in every time bc you just couldn’t say no to those pouty lips and cloudy eyes.

“you’re makin’ me so hard babe,” choso chuckled breathlessly, his teeth clamping onto his kiss swollen lip. his eyes practically had hearts in them as he watched armin fondle you, his poor cock straining painfully against his zipper :((

choso’s nose scrunched up when he felt your hand stroke him over his jeans. “m’sorry cho lemme help you,” your words were slurred, completely drunk on the two men as you finally decided to just give into their neediness. “y-you’re the best girlfriend ever,” choso sniffled, his hips now rocking into your hand.

“just the bestttt,” armin groaned, sliding his pretty, thick dick between your thighs. you hadn’t even noticed he unzipped his pants, but you certainly weren’t complaining. the way his pudgy tip knocked against your covered clit had you mewling, itching to touch choso more. “o-oh minnie,” you gasped, now fumbling with choso’s zipper with shaky hands.

choso let out a high pitched whimper when he felt your hand finally wrap around his dick, your thumb swiping over his leaky slit. “see . . . i-i wanna see,” choso huffed, his veiny hands roughly yanking up your mini dress. the sight of armin’s dick peeking from between your silky thighs had his mouth watering.

“make his dick wetter babe, c’man lemme—lemme show you,” you squeaked when armin dipped his hand in your panties, collecting your essence on his fingers. “fuck she feels so swollen,” armin growled into your ear, his fingers rubbing teasing circles over your clit taking his hand out.

“o-oh!” choso’s hips jerked forward when he felt another hand on his cock, his eyes fluttering shut when he felt your wetness being rubbed along the base. “now do it,” armin spoke softly, his hands now settling on your hips to create a steady rhythm. as much as he loved being inside you, feeling your thick, petal soft thighs around his dick made him high without even partaking in drugs.

you were stroking choso’s cock with both hands now, a sigh of relief leaving your lips when you felt him pull your panties to the side. “ohhhh fu—huck,” armin’s thighs tensed when he suddenly greeted by your hot cunt, your wetness dribbling all over his dick. “feels better now hm?” choso cooed, using his freehand to grip your jaw.

“s-so much better cho ᢉ𐭩”

#if yall like this let ya girl know id totally love to write more for them :))#choso kamo smut #choso smut #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo x black reader #choso x reader #choso x black!reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #armin smut #armin arlert smut #armin arlet smut #armin x reader #armin x black reader #armin arlert x reader #armin arlert x black reader

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wintfleur · 11 months ago

Note

🌷 [ surprise ] with quinn!! maybe angst with happy ending ?

౨ৎ arguments on the dock and nosey brothers

°. — pairings ( Quinn Hughes x female! Reader )

°. — summary ( Jack can’t keep his mouth shut, causing an argument between his brother and his girlfriend )

°. — details ( g; angst, fluff. w; slight cursing, I think that’s all. wc; 1.5k )

﹕─┈ prompt ~ a sudden kiss to catch there partner off guard

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( TYSM FOR SENDING IN A REQ LOVEY !!! when I tell you that it PHYSICALLY hurt to write angst with Quinn . . . I’m telling you the truth. I absolutely loved writing this, and I really hope you guys enjoy it. I’m actually shocked that I wrote this in 3 hours. Please don’t be a silent reader, your thoughts always keep me motivated to keep writing <333 )

1k celly masterlist main masterlist nhl masterlist

You didn't wait to hear Quinn's answer as you walked out of the kitchen and out through the back door that led to the backyard and lake. You slipped your bare feet into what you assumed was Luke's slide Ons and quickly made your way down the steps and onto the dock. You let out a heavy side and brought your trembling hands up to your eyes, rubbing them as your mind tried to process the new news.

“Thanks’ a lot Jack” Quinn hissed at his younger brother who couldn't seem to keep his mouth shut, shaking his head in annoyance and leaving the kitchen to quickly follow after you. Both of the brothers flinch when they hear Quinn slam the back door. Jack’s shoulders sank and he turned to look at Luke who was already giving him a disappointing shake of the head. “How was I supposed to know he didn't tell her yet?”

“I don't know. Maybe the fact that Quinn told us to keep it to ourselves because he was still trying to figure things out?” Luke retorted sassily as he put his bowl in the sink before leaving the kitchen to go play some darts downstairs. Jack groans and rests his head on the cold island counter, he feels terrible. His heart had sunk when he saw the look of hurt on your face when he said those words. Jack whispers to himself “Good luck Quinn”

Quinn slowly made his way down the wooden steps that led to the dock, he could see you standing in the middle of the dock, your body stiff as you stared out at the water. Quinn knew you knew he was there, the sound of the wood creaking under his weight as he walked onto the dock . . . but you refused to take your eyes off the water.

“I know you're upset, and you have every right to be . . . but please just hear me out, '' Quinn spoke softly as he moved to rest his hand on your arm only to let out a sigh as you moved out of the way from his touch. You keep your eyes on the water, hoping that it would help calm you down as you whisper, “When did you find out?”

“Two weeks ago,” Quinn whispered regrettably, his eyes down at the water. You scoff bitterly and bring your hand up to wipe at your eyes, hoping that your tears of frustration wouldn't fall. You finally turn to face him, your arms folded over your chest. Quinn looks at you and he feels his heart sink at the look of hurt on your face and the tears in your eyes, but that was nowhere as painful as hearing the hurt in your voice as you spoke loudly.

“You're right, I do have every right to be upset. You found out two weeks ago, two weeks you have known that you wouldn't be with me for our anniversary . . . two weeks you have listened to me gush about planning our trip . . . our trip that you knew was never going to happen.”

“Why didn't you tell me Quinn? . . . i would have understood'' you whispered, and you would have. You know you would have but finding out he kept it a secret for so long hurt. You never wanted to get in the way of his career, his dream, knowing how important it was to him . . . but you were important too. A single tear slides down your cheek as Jack's words echo in your head.

“It's a great opportunity, it's just a shame he's going to miss your guy's big day” Jack says after he swallowed his last bite of the wonderful dinner you had made for your boyfriend and his brothers. You paused your movement on rinsing your dish and turned around to jack with a look of confusion “Big day?”

“Yeah, your guys' anniversary? He's gonna be gone for like two weeks” Jack shrugged, and your heart dropped at the new information. You turned your gaze to your boyfriend who was giving Jack a heated glare while Luke looked between the couple awkwardly. You looked into your boyfriend's eyes as you asked, “Is that true?”

“Baby i promise it's not like that i was ⸺” Quinn started as he tried to explain it to you, but you couldn't help but cut him off.

“What is it like huh? When were you going to tell me? ⸺ if you were ever going to tell me at all. Where you going to tell me the day before or where you going to let me wake up alone to find out myself that you were on the other side of the fucking country!” You shouted as you threw your hands in the air in anger. Both Luke and Jack wincing inside of the house as they look out the window to spy on the two of you.

“Don't be dramatic you know i would never do that to you” Quinn shook his head as he took a step towards you, his heart hurting that you would even think he would do that to you. But he knew you were just upset, that you really didn't mean your words and all he wanted to do was pull you into his arms.

“Well i used to also think we didn't keep secrets from each other, clearly i was wrong” you snapped as you fully turned to face away from him and moved to sit on one of the wooden chairs. You close your eyes and let out a heavy breath, resting your elbows on your knees and your face in your hands. You hated arguments with quinn, they rarely happened ⸺ but when they did it was emotionally draining.

Quinn frowns and moves to get on one knee in front of you, his hands softly rubbing your arms, knowing that it helps calm you down. “I would have told you quinn . . . i wouldn't have kept it a secret” you whispered sadly as you lifted your head out of your hands, locking eyes with quinn who looked at you with regret in his eyes. “I know baby i know you would and I'm so sorry.”

“I’m not going to tell you not to go, I know this is important for you and I won't hold you back . . . I'm just sorry you felt like you couldn't tell m⸺” you abruptly stop talking when you feel quinn holding your face and his lips on yours, interrupting you and catching you off guard. Your eyes fluttered close and you felt yourself melt into the kiss, pouring all of your emotion into the kiss.

Quinn reluctantly pulled away and rested his forehead on yours, his gently hold on your face not wavering as he whispered breathlessly “You are more important to me, you will always be more important to me . . . i didn't say anything because i wanted to make sure you could come with me.”

Your eyes fluttered open at his revelation and you lean back a little, Quinns hands falling to rest in your lap and taking your hands into his as he looks at you with nothing but love “I know it's not the anniversary you wanted . . . but we would be together, and Elias has been helping me plan it. I was going to tell you i swear, i was just waiting on the confirmation that we can stay in the honeymoon suite at the hotel we would be in.”

“Really?” You whispered as tears reformed in your eyes, this time not of frustration ⸺ but of a strong emotion of love and guilt. Quinn was quick to wipe your fallen tears, giving you a small smile as he whispered “Don't cry baby, I'm not upset it's okay.”

“The things i said i⸺”

“You didn't mean them, you were upset and hurt” Quinn cut you off as he caressed your cheeks before leaning forward to place a soft kiss on your nose, a smile forming on his lips at the adorable nose scrunch you do.

“I’m sorry” you sniffled as you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend's shoulders in a hug, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. Quinn chuckles and wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you closer. His knees were starting to hurt, but you were more important than the fleeting pain. Quinn kissed your forehead before saying “I’m sorry too.”

The couple both close their eyes, enjoying the feeling of being in each other's arms after the emotional rollercoaster they just were on. The only thing they could hear was each other's heartbeat and the sound of the water that was around them. It was perfect and peaceful until you heard Jack yelling from the porch “Since you guys are okay, does that mean you forgive me too?!”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him” Quinn groans as he hides his face in your neck, breathing in your scent to calm himself down. He was in fact annoyed with his brother, this wouldn't have happened, and he would have been able to tell you about the news in a much better way . . . technically jack’s the reason why you cried, and Quinn was sure to use that against him. You giggle and open your eyes, looking out at the water and the beautiful sunset “I’m sure it would be easy to convince Luke to help us.”

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( one forehead kiss from Quinn and everything wrong in my life would be healed . . . please Quinn one chance I beg 😻 )

°. — taglist ( @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

#﹕─┈ 𝜗 roro's 1k celly 𝜚 #୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ. 𝓵atest release of 𝓻oro’s 𝔀orks #quinn hughes #qh43 #vancouver canucks #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes fluff #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x you #quinn hughes x y/n #quinn hughes fic #nhl x reader #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl hockey #nhl fanfiction #hughes brothers #jack hughes

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blackenedsnow · 2 months ago

Note

Can you write me a Shadow the Hedgehog x Female Reader, but movie Shadow version and the reader has DiGeorge Syndrome a rare medical disorder that I have, idk about any prompts or summary atm, anything will do :3

a heart’s shadow

WARNING: Mention of chronic illness and medical trauma, implied violence

PAIRING: Movie! Shadow the Hedgehog x Reader with DiGeorge Syndrome

NOTE: I may have gotten his personality completely wrong (let's hope not) but I hope you enjoy anyway! Sending you lots of love <333

SUMMARY: Shadow abducts you as part of a calculated plan but soon discovers your health struggles, which remind him of Maria. This realization shifts his cold purpose into something else.

The hum of machinery filled the darkened corridor. Shadow’s red-tinted eyes scanned the area, unyielding, calculating. Dr. Robotnik’s orders were simple: take a hostage to ensure leverage against Sonic. Anyone nearby would do.

He found you on a bench by a park, bundled against the chill, your breath coming in slow, deliberate measures. Shadow had no reason to think twice about you, but when he closed the distance, a brief hesitance stirred within him. There was something… different.

“You’ll do,” he muttered to himself, voice cold as he stepped forward. Before you had a chance to scream, the world became a blur of black and crimson.

When you came to, you were somewhere unfamiliar, an industrial space with harsh lights and the lingering scent of oil and metal. Panic clawed at your chest as you tried to sit up, but a sharp twinge in your side reminded you why that was a bad idea.

“Good, you’re awake,” a voice came from the shadows.

You turned toward the figure stepping into the light—small, black-furred, and with eyes that pierced right through you. Recognition struck. Shadow the Hedgehog.

“Why am I here? Why… why me?” Your voice trembled, but there was an underlying defiance.

His expression was unreadable. “You were convenient. That’s all.”

It wasn’t true. Not entirely. Shadow had noticed the slow way you’d been breathing, the way your hand pressed against your chest as if steadying something fragile. Something about it gnawed at the edges of his focus, but he dismissed it as irrelevant.

Hours turned into a day. Despite his original intention to keep you confined, Shadow had been uncharacteristically quiet and watchful, observing you from a distance.

When you tried to stand, the stumble in your step was enough to make him act. “Sit,” he commanded, his tone brooking no argument. “You’ll hurt yourself further.”

“I’m fine,” you snapped, though your trembling hands betrayed you. “I’ve been through worse.”

Something flickered across his face—a rare softness. “Explain.”

You weren’t sure why you did, but the words poured out before you could stop them. The surgeries. The way your heart worked harder than it should. The moments when simple things—like standing too quickly—felt like scaling a mountain.

Shadow listened, his arms crossed but his eyes filled with something akin to recognition. When you finished, you expected him to dismiss you or make some cutting remark. Instead, he just nodded.

The days stretched on, and Shadow’s demeanor began to shift. Where there had been silence, there was now a steady rhythm of his presence—a glass of water set beside you when he thought you weren’t looking, the careful adjustment of the space to make it more comfortable.

“What changed?” you asked one evening as he handed you a blanket.

Shadow hesitated, his gaze fixed on the floor. “You’re not what I expected. You’re… stronger than you seem.”

“Strong?” You laughed bitterly. “I can barely make it through the day without—”

“Strength isn’t about perfection,” he interrupted, his tone firm. “It’s surviving despite everything trying to break you.”

It wasn’t just empty words. Shadow understood. You could see it in the way his jaw tightened when he spoke, the unspoken weight he carried.

One morning, you woke to find Shadow in a room—not the cold, sterile space you’d been confined to, but warm place. He had taken you somewhere safe.

“You’re not taking me back to Robotnik?” you asked cautiously.

“No,” he said simply.

“But why—”

“Because I don’t work for him anymore.”

He didn’t elaborate, but you didn’t need him to. The walls Shadow had so carefully built around himself had cracked, just enough for you to glimpse the truth. He hadn’t saved you out of pity or obligation. Somewhere along the way, you’d become important to him.

Life with Shadow wasn’t easy—he was blunt, stoic, and often distant. But he was also fiercely protective, learning the intricacies of your condition without complaint. He’d carry you when you were too weak to walk, stand vigil during your worst days, and remind you in his own quiet way that you were never alone.

“Why do you stay?” you asked him one night, your voice barely above a whisper.

He turned to you, his gaze steady. “Because you remind me of her. Of Maria.”

You reached for his hand, resting yours over his. “I’m not her, Shadow. I’m not perfect.”

“No,” he agreed. “But you’re worth fighting for.”

#shadow the hedgehog #shadow the hedgehog x reader #shadow the hedgehog fanfic #shadow x reader #sonic #sonic the hedgehog #sonic fanfiction #x reader #ask #fanfic #request #oneshot #movie shadow #sonic movie #movie shadow x reader #sonic movie 3

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jjscrybaby · 2 months ago

Text

prompt 40: ‘lean on me.’

jj maybank x fem!routledge!reader | hurt & comfort | (stubborn!reader, mention of sick, reader is john b’s sister but no mention of race etc, getting shot, blood, shitty ending cause i’m tired🙂‍↕️)

my first request! thankyou anon, i hope u enjoy this <333

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

For your entire life, you’d been stubborn. Back when you were a kid, you’d refuse to admit that you were sick even when you were puking your guts out into the toilet, there was one time you climbed a tree because you wanted to be like JJ and John B and you ended up slicing your arm on a hanging stick; you kept it from them until the next day when they noticed the scab.

Your brother and your friends were used to it by now, you smiling through your tears when you got cheated on, or stumbling home alone after drinking too much because you were embarrassed to call for help.

No one was worried about you when you began the treasure hunt for the gold your old man had been searching for, you were a strong girl who could take care of herself and them. You weren’t worried about yourself either, not until you heard the bang.

“Shit!” JJ yelled from somewhere in front of you, ducking down with his hands over his head. You knew this lead was bullshit, a trap of some sort.

“Over here!” Kiara called, finding an entrance to the old warehouse you were running near. She held it open and the group of you ran in, panting and groaning. She slammed the door closed as you rushed in and pushed a table against it for good measure.

John B let out a laugh of disbelief, followed by JJ, Pope and then Kie. “Shit, that was a close one.” He chuckled, sitting down to lean against the wall.

“Too close,” Kiara agreed, sitting down beside him to catch her breath.

You weren’t listening to a word they were saying. Your ears rang as you looked down, blood was seeping into your white tee, your body numb from the pain.

“You good?” John B asked, looking over at you. Your eyes flickered over to him, panic all over your face. He slowly stood up and walked towards you. “Hey—” he stopped, eyes landing on the blood that covered your left side. His eyes widened, his face paled and he was rushing at you like a mad man. “No, no, no!”

“What?” JJ worried, coming over from where he’d been leaning against a wall. He followed John B’s gaze and had the exact same reaction, complexion going green and hands starting to shake as he grabbed your waist.

“It’s fine—” you croaked out, inhaling sharply at the pain that followed.

“Shut up. You’re shot,” JJ argued sternly. He pulled his sweatshirt over his head and gently pulled your shirt up, apologising when you cried out in pain. He inspected it, you were losing a lot of blood. “We need to get to the fuckin’ hospital!”

“Can’t afford that,” you coughed out, making everyone shoot you a dirty look.

“Would you rather bleed out? Come on, we need to get back to the van,” Kiara responded, looking around to see if there’s another exit.

You tried to stumble after them, clenching your jaw. JJ wrapped his arm around your waist, you tried to push him off and his grip tightened. “Lean on me. Let me help you,” he murmured.

“I don’t want to die, JJ,” you sobbed as he held you up, following the rest of the group. John B was up ahead, storming down the hallway you’d found to find an unlocked door.

“You’re not going to,” JJ argued, his pace quickening. “I’d never let that happen. Don’t panic, I know it hurts. You just have to hang in there a little longer, can you do that f’me?”

You just nodded your head, silent tears rolling down your cheeks as you finally leant on him properly; finally accepted the help that he’d been trying to give you for years. When you climbed that tree, he’d been at the top holding his hand out for you to take. When you were sick, he’d offer to hold your hair back and follow you around with food and water. When you got cheated on, he went round to your ex’s house and punched him right in his smug face. He was always there, you just never accepted the help.

You’d gotten lucky, the bullet had grazed you so the procedure was no where near as difficult as it could have been. When you woke up, head foggy and body numb, you felt a hand holding yours.

“Hey,” JJ murmured softly, stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “John B’s just gone home to grab you some shit.”

“You didn’t have to stay,” you replied croakily — he was instantly passing you a cup of water.

He gave you a look, shaking his head at you with amusement in his eyes. “You really ain’t worked it out yet?”

“Worked what out?” You asked, putting the cup back on the side table once your mouth started to feel less dry.

“That no matter how much your stubborn-ass may hate it, I’m not goin’ anywhere,” JJ stated, sounding stern yet soft all at once.

“Why?” You mumbled, feeling your cheeks heat up at his words. Was he just being friendly? Did he mean it because you were his best friends sister?

“‘Cause you’re, like, the most important thing to me,” he shrugged, looking down at where your hands were clasped together. “And I hate that you just let yourself struggle alone.”

You sucked in a sharp breath. Your’s and JJ’s relationship had always been funny banter, witty comments and buried love. You’d never heard him say something so honest, and if you’d been standing it would have sent you to your knees.

“You’re the most important thing to me, too,” you replied, your brain too foggy with the pain meds to think of anything else to say.

He flashed you a grin, bringing your hand up to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. “From now on, you ain’t dealing with shit alone. Definitely not when you’ve just been shot.”

“Grazed,” you corrected.

“Big-whoop. Get ready for me to be your personal butler, your ass ain’t leaving your bed once we get home,” he teased, making you roll your eyes fondly.

You didn’t necessarily hate the idea of him taking care of you, not that you’d ever admit that to him; although from the glint in his eyes you were pretty sure he already knew. You were pretty sure he felt the same way.

John B was in for a real surprise when he gets back to the hospital — because his best friend and sister are most definitely head over heels in love.

#threewordprompts #jj maybank #outer banks #jj maybank prompt #jj mayback x reader #jj mayback imagine

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chilschuck · 10 months ago

Note

beach day headcanons please (any characters you’d like)!!! we were deprived of the typical anime fanservice imo

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ohhhhhh my gosh anon i was literally SO SO HAPPY to get this ask!!! decided to stick with the usual charas you guys enjoy, plus some falin!!! hope this turned out okay and thank you so much for having me write it for you!!! <333

— DUNMESHI BEACH DAY HCS.

꒰ charas: ꒱ laios, chilchuck, falin, & mickbell.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + fluff with gn!reader.

꒰ wc: ꒱ 1.4k

✦ hope this turned out okay!! it was such a cute idea and so much fun that if anyone has requests for more charas, i’d be more than happy to do it!! <33

— LAIOS:

✦ We know that he doesn’t do well in hot weather, so you can imagine he’d be sporting only swimsuit trunks and flip flops for sure.

✦ Definitely enjoys being in the ocean, especially to try and cool off. You can imagine he’d be really interested in knowing more about what’s in the water around him, and probably points things out to you that he finds interesting.

✦ Be prepared for him to burn really fast, so make sure he gets plenty of sunscreen!! It’s always cute to see him walk up to you and ask for help, in which you gladly oblige. You help get those spots he can’t reach, and he does appreciate just how thorough you are.

✦ You’ll probably end up splashing him, which he’ll return in kind. Be careful what you start, because you’ll end up drenched by the end of it!

✦ A picnic on the beach with him is definitely something that happens while you’re there. Laios is so excited to share a meal with you in such a beautiful setting, and finds himself giving you that goofy grin at just how happy he is. He makes sure to pull all the stops to make this enjoyable for you, even preparing your favorite snacks.

✦ Definitely goes home with a few shells or shark teeth, if he found any. Laios thinks they’re too cool not to pick up and examine, running over to you and showing you what he found in the sand.

“You won’t believe what I found!” Laios calls out to you, jogging over to where you sat on your towel. His hands cradled something, and as he stretched his arms out to show you, a smile grew on your lips.

In his hands was an almost perfect conch shell, something he held with pride and excitement. His smile matching yours, he said your name softly. “Do you think if you put it up to your ear, you’d hear the ocean like those stories?”

You shrugged your shoulders, not able to hold back the giggle at his glee. “Only one way to find out, right? Just make sure there’s nothing still living in it.”

Laios still keeps that shell in a safe place, wanting to remember the day you spent together.

— CHILCHUCK:

✦ This man is definitely showing up in a Hawaiian dad shirt and cargo shorts. The first few buttons are undone, and he has a pair of sandals on that he insists he only saves for days like this.

✦ Chilchuck plans on staying at the spot you claimed with towels and an umbrella, a drink in hand. He’s definitely enjoying the sight of you in a swimsuit and the breeze ruffling your hair, but he’d never admit that.

✦ You try to pull him towards the water, but you only manage to get his feet wet. Chil tells you this is as far as he’ll go, but that disappointed pout on your face makes his heart race a bit. Ok, fine… Maybe he’ll go up to his knees for you…

✦ Probably spends most of his time drinking and relaxing, a hand behind his head and alcohol in the other. Very dad-like of him, you muse, which causes his face to heat up and grumbles to leave him.

✦ Ends up falling asleep, the sound of the waves and the secluded shade from the sun causing his eyes to flutter shut. You can’t help but laugh a little, returning from your time in the water to study his sleeping form. He looks so peaceful like this, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up…

✦ If you do somehow manage to get him fully in the water, be prepared for him to get targeted by the tide. Maybe you even suggest getting him a float, which he gives you that blank stare in reply.

“There, that’s not so bad, is it?” You say as he finds himself in the middle of a tube float, eyes narrowed towards you.

“This makes me feel like a kid.” Chilchuck complains, yet you see him grip onto it tighter as an incoming wave makes an appearance.

You pull it over to you, the inflatable bumping into your stomach as you give him that teasing grin. “Guess you’re stuck with me while we’re out here, huh?”

The half-foot groans, debating on whether or not he’d make it if he tried to swim back to shore right now.

— FALIN:

✦ Wears a light t-shirt and shorts, opting to be comfy! She also has a hat she wears to help keep the sun out of her eyes. If she did plan on swimming, I like to imagine she’d have a swim shirt and a one piece swimsuit!

✦ Like her brother, she was excited to see all the shells and creatures at the beach, bringing you things she found fascinating. You might even find her entranced with a sand dollar and stating how pretty it is.

✦ Walks into the water hand in hand with you, but also really enjoys walking along the sand near the shore. As the sun sets, she intertwines her fingers with yours, leading you along and watching the pinks and blues in the sky reflect on the waves.

✦ Also definitely goes on a picnic with you, the beach making her cheeks even more rosy than usual. You can’t help but tell her how cute she looks in her outfit, her hair loosely blowing in the breeze. Falin would give you a sweet smile, the same one you fell in love with.

✦ Don’t be surprised if she leads you back to the water after you make sure she’s not getting burnt, insisting that she wants to enjoy how cool the waves feel. You’re more than happy to walk out a little deeper with her, noticing how she still keeps your hand in her own.

“It’s so nice out here…” You heard her mutter, a content smile dimpling her cheeks. The sunset left a sweet gradient in her hair, something that made you unable to look away.

“It really is. Too bad it’s getting dark,” you reply, a little disappointed that the day is already over. Falin squeezed your hand, pulling you away from your thoughts.

“Maybe we should stay and watch the stars come out.” Her voice was so gentle, causing you to give her a grin of your own.

“Let’s stay a little longer.”

— MICKBELL:

✦ Like the official art we have of him swimming with Kuro, he’s definitely sporting a pair of swim trunks and flip flops, with his hair in his signature ponytail.

✦ He and Kuro are so excited to swim, and drag you along to the water as soon as you get there. Of course, Mick is either clinging to you or to Kuro when in the waves, not seeking to really swim on his own.

✦ You definitely enjoy watching them swim and play around more than you’d like to admit, especially with Mick hiding his face and complaining when Kuro decides to shake all the water out of his coat.

✦ Mick really likes finding shells he thinks look neat, and showing them off to you and Kuro proudly. Maybe you even find yourself building a sand castle, with him and his buddy watching closely and moving to help you. He’s in charge of decorating it, while you’re in charge of building it! Kuro helps dig up some of the sand to use.

✦ The three of you end up getting a sweet treat, cooling off in the shade and enjoying the time spent together. Knowing Mickbell, he’s going to lay his head in your lap as he rests after so much activity, looking up at you with that cheeky grin he usually has.

“I could get used to this!” Mickbell sighs, nuzzling into your lap as he makes himself comfortable. Kuro is watching the waves, sitting beside you as the sun begins to fade from the horizon.

“I would’ve thought you’d be ready to go home a lot sooner.” You teased him, brushing his messy bangs out of his face. Scoffing, he made sure you saw as he rolled his eyes.

“If I didn’t have you and Kuro, maybe… But this is something we’ll have to do again. Right, Kuro?” The Kobold nodded, causing a warm grin to spread on your face. He was certainly right about that.

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#HOPING THIS IS OK ANON HHHHH #i’m hitting a creative roadblock with school #which is causing me to stress a bit #but i wanted to get this out for you guys!!! <333 #first time writing for falin so i hope it’s ok…#sorry if anyone’s ooc!! WAHHH #laios x reader #laios touden x reader #falin x reader #falin touden x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #chilchuck x reader #mickbell tomas x reader #mickbell x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dunmeshi x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

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inkykeiji · 2 years ago

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hi clari! this is so random but what about screenwriting and film in particular draw u to it? i always found it so interesting how people develop interests and how for some those change frequently and others not so much

feel free to ignore this lol

hi anon! (´∀｀)♡ oooh good question! well my first love has always been literature—i read (and wrote!) like a maniac as a kid—so i always consider film (and screenwriting) my second love. i developed my love for film when i was 15 years old, in my high school film class! idk it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what draws me towards film because i love every single aspect of it, but i think one of the big reasons i love it is because it combines multiple art forms (same can be argued for video games! and theatre to a lesser extent); writing, photography (cinematography; framing, shot scale, camera movement, camera angle, blocking, lenses, etc), acting, music, illustration if it’s an animated film, editing in and of itself is an art (the shots + takes chosen, the way they are specifically arranged, the duration of them, the transitions, the colour grading and colour correcting—all of this helps convey meaning in a particular way decided upon by the editor + the director), fashion + costume design, set design, etc etc the list goes on. and it all comes together in this beautiful way to not only create something new, but something that is such a collaborative art piece. you can technically make a film on your own, obv, especially if it’s an art or avant-garde film, but it’s quite hard to make a fully narrative film entirely on your own. you need other people and you need other people with expertise in all areas of art, and i think it’s so beautiful that these people will come together to create something! film in and of itself is a celebration of art in general, of art in all forms and types.

more specifically, i like screenwriting as a mode of storytelling because it more often than not focuses on the characters (character driven stories are my favourite type of stories); the characters tell us SO much even if the story is more plot driven than character driven, and the show don’t tell rule is heavy heavy heavy in film + screenwriting, especially since it’s a visual art. when you write for film, you are using almost solely dialogue (a few actions and directions but 90% or so is dialogue unless u write like wes anderson) to convey a story. that’s fucking hard, but it’s so rewarding when you get it right.

#i wish i could find the lil story i wrote about four ducks for my third grade EQAO test and share it with u guys LMAO #so we could giggle sweetly abt my third grade writing #BUT ANYWAY #that’s why i love film!! or one of the reasons #it’s so special to me as an art and i do not at all regret getting a degree in it #i think it’s helped me as an artist and a writer immensely #one day i hope to maaaybe work in film but atm in my city were more focused on television and i don’t care much for that #(writing for television and writing for film is different as television is episodic)#(because you have to have a narrative for each episode while also being able to connect an overarching narrative throughout the entire thing #hope this answers ur question anon!!! <333 #stay safe n drink water n have a lovely day <3 #inky.bb #clari gets mail

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wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

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Hey girl, I love you and your stories <3

Can I maybe request an enemies to lovers with a female reader and Elijah, which leads to a threesome between her Elijah and Klaus. Maybe with a little punishment and very kinky maybe with a little light bondage and just light beds in general, I'll leave the details up to you

thank you already <333

Captive

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

{Elijah Mikaelson x Klaus Mikaelson x Vampire!Reader} You are being held captive by a group of nasty witches, being tortured, starved of blood and interrogated night and day... You've lost all hope, until two old enemies show up to save you, and you spend the evening reminiscing and making up for lost time.

♡♡ Thank you lovely anon! Its been so long since I did a ménage à trois with the boys & it's always so much fun to write! ♡♡

7.1k words {hehe} - Warnings: smut, lots of drinking, Klaus being a little shit, oral sex {m! and f! receiving}, a little bondage, praise kink, a little punishment, slight dom!Elijah and Klaus, blood sharing, rough sex, double penetration, overstimulation && aftercare ...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer @nina6708 @evasmlp

@madeinmyownmind-blog @lovelyy-moonlight @blacknightrises @poppet05

In the dark, dingy cell; there was no way to tell the passage of time. Not that you were in any condition to care about that.

It had been so long, you had forgotten the feeling of sunlight kissing you skin, the smell of flowers in the wind, the sound of birds chirping in the morning, the taste of rich red wine, the laughter of friends. The last few days- weeks? months?- were spent in a haze. Time had become a distant concept.

All you knew now was cold, stale, dirty water, and the constant pain of hunger, and the agony of torture.

At first you blamed your captors, with their unrelenting desire to grab at power. Then you blamed your stupidity, your lack of caution. But most of all you blamed the Mikaelsons, for they were who the witches had targeted. They were the ones you were being tortured for.

If only you had not made such enemies, if only you hadn't gotten involved, you could have lived your immortal life without consequence, without guilt. You would have avoided all the pain, all the torture. Indulging in men of that caliber always came with a price, you just didn't expect it to happen to you.

In a way, it was a mercy that your body had long since given out. That you had become too weak, too hungry, to do much more than lay against the dirty floor, staring blankly ahead. Soon your limbs would stop working, only dust left in your veins. You would desiccate and die a slow, painful death, the only relief would be your own insanity.

It was there, in that dark place, where you accepted your fate. The witch's spells kept you trapped, you were too weak to even crawl out the door, and there was no one who knew where you were, no one who would come for you.

That is, until you felt the cold chill of the witch's magic suddenly disappear, like a weight lifted from your shoulders. Then the sound of fighting outside, the screams of the witches and their death rattles, and the door creaking open. And a cold laugh you never thought you would hear again.

"Isn't this a sight?" Klaus said, crouching down outside of the cell, leaning close to the ground to meet your eyes, "I never thought I'd see you in such a state, little fox."

His tone was light, almost mocking, and his grin was as cold as ever. You blinked a few times, hoping you were imagining things, that the delirium had finally set in. You had experienced plenty of hallucinations since the witch's had captured you.

But he didn't disappear. He stayed, watching you, like a snake waiting to strike.

"She looks awful," He mused, looking you over.

"And she smell even worse," another voice chimed in, his soft lilting accent completely unfamiliar, and yet somehow familiar at the same time.

"You've let yourself go, sweetheart," Klaus teased.

"Are you going to sit and gawk, or are you going to rescue the poor girl," The second man said, his voice growing closer as he joined Klaus.

It was Elijah, his way with words unmistakable, even in the attempt at an American accent he spoke with now.

"I was actually thinking about killing her, would it be easier?" Klaus replied, his grin widening, "What do you think brother, is she a lost cause?"

Elijah peered through the bars, his dark eyes taking you in. You wanted to hide, or scream, or cry. His face bringing back a thousand buried memories, all the reasons why you had tried so hard to forget him.

"I'd say she's quite beyond salvation," he said, "but you know I could never resist a damsel in distress, even one as ugly as this."

That hurt, even though you certainly deserved it. Many great fables are written about the tragic love affairs of humans, but nothing compared to the heartbreaks between vampires.

Klaus laughed at the pain in your eyes, the way they watered ever so slightly, despite how weak and dehydrated you were. But he reached out and grabbed the iron gate, tearing it off the hinges with a grunt.

"I think we're past pleasantries, don't you agree, love?" He asked, striding into the cell and lifting you up.

The moment his hands touched your skin, you knew it was real. That by some divine miracle you were rescued and it was by the worst possible people.

"You should really take a bath, it's unbecoming for a lady to smell like a sewer." Elijah commented, watching the way you were limp in Klaus' arms.

You choked out a half laugh, half sob, every small movement felt like sandpaper rubbing against your skin. You swallowed hard and it felt like a knife had been forced down your throat.

"Fuck you," you wheezed.

"There she is!" Klaus said, holding you bridal style, "We were wondering if you had actually died."

Elijah reached out and placed a hand on your head, smoothing out your hair and giving you a gentle smile. You leaned into the touch, the first kindness you had felt in so long.

Klaus carried you out of the cell, and into the room above. He sat down in an old wooden chair, the same one you had been tortured in countless times. Your breathing hitched and you tried to struggle, but he held you tight, pressing his face into your neck.

"Relax," he said, "I'm not going to kill you … yet."

The threat hung in the air, and Elijah rolled his eyes at his brothers' dramatics. You felt the tip of his tongue lick up your neck, and his fangs graze your skin, before pulling away.

"Any of them still kickin'?" He asked Elijah, who was peering around the room.

"One, she's alive. Barely," he replied, his gaze falling on a witch laying face down on the floor, her neck was at a weird angle, no doubt snapped by Elijah.

He dragged her to the middle of the room, her body limp, but you could hear the faint beating of her heart, her blood still pumping. She was still clinging to the last threads of existence. Her blood smelled divine, the sound of her heartbeat was music to your ears.

"Here's a deal," Klaus said, pulling your attention back to him, "I give you her blood, and you answer our questions. Sound fair?"

Your lips were chapped and your throat was dry, but you forced out an answer, "Yes, please."

You hadn't begged for anything the entire time the witches had imprisoned you. Not for freedom, not for mercy, not for blood, not even for your own life. But in that moment, all of your pride had been stripped away, and there was nothing left but desperation.

Elijah lifted the witch up, biting down on her wrist and offering it to you. The taste of fresh blood filled your mouth, and you moaned, gulping down as much as you could. But the relief didn't last long, as he pulled away.

"Enough," he said, his grip tight, "can't have you drinking too much."

You felt life returning to your limbs, your bones tingling as you were able to wiggle them, your skin turning from a gray pallor to its usual color. It wasn't much, but it was more than enough to take the edge off.

"Now, let's start with the obvious," Elijah said, "Why are you here?"

"On vacation," you replied sarcastically, your voice hoarse, but not as quiet as before.

Elijah didn't say anything, instead he gave you a cold stare, daring you to make another joke. You shrunk away, but not much. It had been so long since you had been with them, but the way they made you feel, was ingrained into your bones.

"The witches, what do they want from you? I will not ask you again," He asked, the anger behind his words making you nervous.

"They wanted you two," you said, "they knew we had...history."

"History?" Klaus said, chuckling, "that's a very bland word for what we had."

You bit your tongue. He wasn't wrong, but you weren't willing to admit that to them.

"They thought I could get to you, so they tortured me," you explained.

"And could you? Get to us?" Elijah asked, his eyes narrowed.

You didn't respond, instead you looked down. The truth was, you had been avoiding them for centuries and to do that, you always kept tabs on them. So yes, if you wanted to, you could have gotten to them, but that would have meant reopening old wounds, and the last thing you wanted was to feel that pain all over again.

"We could always compel the answer out of you," Elijah mused.

You shook your head. It wasn't that they couldn't, but that they didn't need to. You were already at their mercy, and had no desire to fight them.

"I... I kept your secrets, no matter how much they tortured me," You said, "I never told them anything."

"How noble," Klaus replied, rolling his eyes, "your loyalty is truly inspiring, sweetheart."

His grip tightened on your body, his fingers digging into your skin. It was starting to make you angry. Yes, they had saved you, but the way they spoke to you, the way they were acting, it was too much.

"Fuck off," you snapped, "I could have given them anything, and yet, here I am, starving and tortured. So maybe a little respect would be nice, you prick."

Elijah let out a short, sharp laugh, while Klaus glared at you. But after a moment he grinned and chuckled, the sound sending a shiver up your spine.

"You were always so bold," Klaus said, "you never were afraid of me."

"She's a fool then," Elijah replied.

"Well, what is life without a few fools, brother?" Klaus asked.

"Boring," you replied, earning a smirk from both of them.

Elijah leaned down, grabbing the witch by the hair and placing her head on your lap. She was so close to dying, you could hear her heartbeat getting weaker and weaker. You looked down at her, the smell of her blood filling the air, and licked your lips.

"Drink up now, you've earned it," he said, stroking the back of her head.

You sank your teeth into her neck, the taste of her blood filling your mouth, as you greedily sucked up as much as you could. Nothing tasted better than draining the life out of a witch.

When you finished, you tossed the body aside, licking your lips and wiping your mouth. You were finally able to relax, your stomach full, your skin returning to a healthy color. You stood up, steady and sure on your feet for the first time in months.

"Where do you think you're going?" Klaus asked, reaching out and grabbing your wrist.

"A hotel, I'm thinking luxury suite, room service, a month long spa treatment, the works," you replied, "thanks for the save, I'm off."

You tried to pull your arm away, but his grip tightened, yanking you towards him.

"Such hubris, little fox," he said, his voice cold and menacing, "you don't really think we're going to just let you go, do you?"

You struggled in his grasp, but it was no use. He was too strong, and you were still too weak. You looked to Elijah, a silent plea, but he just shrugged, an amused smile on his lips.

"What the hell do you mean?" You asked.

"Well, there is the fact that you owe us a favor, but also," he said, leaning forward, his mouth brushing your ear, "I still think your lying,"

And with that, he reached for your neck and with one swift move he snapped it. You didn't even have a chance to react, and as you fell to the ground, the world fading away.

When you woke up, you were somewhere else, on a large, incredibly comfortable sofa, the smell of leather and wood in the air. The light was dim, and it took you a moment to get your bearings. You heard a crackling fire, the sounds of music playing from somewhere, and the voices of the Mikaelson's arguing.

"I don't believe she was lying," Elijah said.

"Really, I'm surprised at you brother," Klaus replied, "considering how she ended things with you,"

Elijah sighed and didn't respond. You couldn't see him, but you imagined him adjusting his suit, and the way his jaw twitched when he was annoyed.

"I'm not inclined to trust her either," Elijah said, "But I think holding her captive is pointless,"

"She's a risk," Klaus argued, "and she's not leaving till I'm sure she's not lying."

You sat up and glanced around, trying to see where they were. It was a large living room, the furniture was ornate and expensive, with antique looking paintings on the wall, and bookshelves lining every surface. There was a coffee table next to the sofa you were on, and your eyes landed on a fresh horror that was laying there.

You let out a blood curdling scream, one that echoed in the space and made Klaus and Elijah appear almost instantly. You were still staring, frozen in place, unable to look away.

A human head was sitting on the table, his skin pale and his eyes wide and lifeless. It was one of the witches that had tortured you, and it was sitting there, staring at you.

"Jesus Christ, is that necessary?" You snapped, pointing at the head.

Klaus grinned, looking down at the head, and shrugging, "I thought you would appreciate the gesture,"

"I don't!" You exclaimed.

"Perhaps you could have done something a little less barbaric," Elijah suggested.

"Oh come now brother, where's the fun in that," Klaus replied, and Elijah rolled his eyes.

"It's a peace offering," Klaus replied, walking over and lifting the head up, tossing it from one hand to the other, "do you like it?"

"No!" You yelled, covering your eyes and trying not to gag, "I want it gone, get rid of it,"

"Oh, come on little fox, don't be so uptight," He replied, his voice low and dangerous, "I remember when you used to enjoy this sort of thing,"

An awkward tension filled the room. Elijah cleared his throat and Klaus laughed.

"Too far?" He asked.

"Just a bit," Elijah replied.

"Sorry, my bad," he said, turning his attention back to you, "now, let's discuss how you're going to repay us."

"What, not even a hello, or how are you?" You asked, standing up.

Elijah gently pushed you back down onto the sofa. He sat down next to you, giving you a small smile, and placing a hand on your knee. You felt your heart skip a beat, and you cursed yourself for the reaction. You had been the one to ruin things with him, and yet, being near him again, it made you wish you hadn't.

"This happy reunion calls for wine!" Klaus called, he chucked the head somewhere out of sight and strided over to a mini bar, pulling out a bottle and glasses, "unfortunately I don't have anything fancy at this particular bar, but this is a decent 1990s vintage, which I think is passable,"

"I don't drink anything after the 1900s," Elijah replied, leaning back against the sofa.

Klaus scoffed, but didn't reply, instead he poured himself a glass and downed it in one gulp.

"Fine," he grumbled, "make me go to the cellar, like some sort of servant,"

"If the shoe fits," Elijah quipped.

You watched the exchange, trying to process everything that had happened. They were different now, their accents and mannerisms, not to mention their appearances. But the easy banter between them, and the way they were able to get under each other's skin, that hadn't changed one bit.

"Are you two ever not at each other's throats?" You asked, leaning back, "seriously, you are worse than an old married couple."

"Far worse," Klaus yelled, before disappearing down a hallway, off to retrieve the good wine.

"Don't mind him," Elijah said, turning to you, "he's never been very appreciative of fine cuisine."

"I know. He's a heathen," you replied, smiling.

Elijah didn't return the smile, his gaze fixed on you, a strange expression on his face. His eyes were dark and intense, and the longer he looked, the more uncomfortable you felt.

"You've changed," he said.

"So have you," you replied, "it's been centuries and I wasn't exactly eager to run into either of you again."

He didn't respond. The silence hung in the air, neither of you wanting to talk about the elephant in the room. What had happened, was painful, and neither of you had really moved on.

"Why did you do it?" He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You bit your lip. A million lies flashed through your mind. The truth was cruel, and you didn't want to admit it, but it was the only option.

"Because I was bored," you admitted, "and I didn't know any other way to handle it, so I turned it all off,"

"And found a far more vigorous lover in the process," Klaus said, suddenly appearing with an older bottle of wine.

He handed it to Elijah, who looked over the label and nodded. Klaus gave you a wink and sat down on the chair across from the two of you.

Elijah didn't speak, and you couldn't read his expression. He looked hurt, and his gaze turned away from you. Guilt was a feeling you spent a lot a time accepting back into your life, but to witness the consequences, that was far worse.

"Whoops, still a sore subject I see," Klaus teased.

"Niklaus, shut up," Elijah snapped.

Klaus threw his hands up in mock surrender, and didn't say anything, a satisfied smile on his face. He was just as much to blame as you, but clearly he had no remorse and was loving the awkwardness of the moment.

Elijah uncorked the wine and poured a glass for all three of you. The tension in the room was still palpable, and as much as you wanted to apologize, you knew that nothing would fix what you had done.

"To reunions, and bloody witches," Klaus said, raising his glass, "to past lovers and new enemies, to the future, whatever that may bring,"

He chuckled and took a long drink. You and Elijah didn't move, still looking away from each other.

"Oh, come on, I'm not doing this whole thing alone," Klaus said, glaring at the two of you, "let's play a game,"

"You know, I'm not really in the mood for a game," you said, crossing your arms.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm not asking," Klaus replied, his voice dripping with false kindness, "now, the rules are simple, tell the truth or take a drink,"

"We are not children," Elijah protested, "we don't need games to imbibe,"

"Oh, I beg to differ," Klaus said, "so, what shall we ask first? Hmmm... oh, how about, why were you in New Orleans?"

You stared at him, unsure if you should just answer, or try to get out of the game. He was looking at you, his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. You could feel his anger, and the last thing you wanted was to piss him off.

"I needed an answer to a question," you replied, "it's… important to me,"

Klaus and Elijah exchanged a glance, both of them curious about what you meant.

"How intriguing," Klaus said, leaning back, "and what was this question?"

"Doesn't work that way," you replied, a smile creeping onto your face, "it's your turn,"

"Clever girl," Klaus replied, grinning.

"My turn," Elijah said, turning to Klaus, "where did you find this bottle,"

"Why does that matter?" Klaus replied, annoyed.

"I don't remember seeing that year in the cellar," Elijah replied, taking a sip.

"Perhaps it was from your secret stash…" Klaus asked, smirking, "the one I'm not supposed to know about?"

Elijah glared at him, and you stifled a laugh. Their arguments were always funny, and this was no exception.

"Well, I was feeling sentimental, so I grabbed one of the better years," Klaus explained, "what's the harm in a little nostalgia,"

Elijah didn't say anything, his gaze turning back to the glass, swirling the wine around.

"My turn," you said, "how did you find me?"

"Simple," Klaus said, "we have spies everywhere, and witches are the most gossiping creatures on the planet. When I heard they were torturing a lovely little vampire that matched your description, well… we just had to see for ourselves,"

You were shocked, that they had gone out of their way to find you. You hadn't expected them to care, or even remember you, and to know they had saved you just because they could, it was a strange feeling.

"But, why bother saving me?" You asked, genuinely curious, "you don't owe me anything, not after how I left things,”

They both fell silent, exchanging a glance that seemed to have an entire conversation within it. After a moment, Elijah spoke.

"It's always better to know where our enemies stand," he said, "you are a useful asset, and a potential enemy,"

"And," Klaus added, "we love killing witches who get too big for their boots,"

Elijah glared at him and then sighed, "That too,"

You didn't say anything, their reasoning making perfect sense. You had a history with the two of them, but that didn't mean you were friends.

Elijah's arm stretched behind you, casually resting on the back of the couch. His fingers brushed your shoulder and you felt your breath catch. His hand was warm and you could feel his thumb stroke your shoulder.

"What did the witches ask you?" he said, his voice soft and low. “Tell us the whole truth,”

His hand moved subtly to the back of your neck, a quiet threat, one that didn't require words. You understood the unspoken message and knew that if you didn't give him an answer he was happy with, then you would end up the same way as the head that was somewhere in the house.

"They asked about your weaknesses, how to kill you," you admitted, "I told them to go fuck themselves and in return they upped to torture severely,”

Klaus snorted, clearly impressed. He poured himself another glass, while Elijah gave you a satisfied nod.

"Why the loyalty? We haven't spoken in centuries," Elijah asked, his fingers tracing the curve of your neck, "I seem to remember you hating us both,"

You picked up your glass and took a long drink, not saying anything.

"Not a fan of the question?" He asked.

"It's not loyalty, but self preservation," you said, shrugging, "the wrath of witches is one thing, but you two? That's a death wish,"

Klaus laughed and held up his glass, "well played, sweetheart,"

Elijah didn't remove his hand, his fingers lightly caressing the nape of your neck, his gaze never wavering from yours.

"My turn," you said, trying not to squirm under his touch, "why not kill me? You are clearly afraid I hold secrets you rather I didn't,"

"Call it … Nostalgia," Klaus said, a wicked grin on his face, "I do so love to reminisce, and if I am being honest, you are one of the more fun memories,"

"Ah yes, your one weakness, sentimental attachment to those you've slept with," you quipped, taking another drink, the alcohol warming your throat.

"I guess it's the one thread of our humanity we've never been able to shake," Klaus admitted.

You raised your glass and downed the rest of it, setting the glass down with a small clink. Elijah refilled it, his hand now resting on your lower back. You tried to ignore it, but every touch made you more aware of him, and less able to concentrate.

"Let's make a deal," Klaus said, his expression serious, "we will let you go, if you answer why you are in New Orleans,"

You bit your lip, wondering if they would even believe you.

"I'm here because..." you paused, looking down at the ground, "I heard a witch here can help with... Fertility,"

They both froze, a stunned look on their faces.

"A baby?" Elijah asked, his eyes wide.

"Is that what you've been chasing all these centuries?" Klaus asked, clearly surprised.

You looked up at both of them, two of the oldest beings to walk this earth. Them, of all people, you hoped would understand your reasons.

"I've experienced everything I've ever wanted too in my long life," you began, your hands twisting in your lap, "climbed the tallest mountains, swam in the deepest oceans, drank with Kings of long forgotten empires, fucked and fed from the greatest artists, poets, warriors and philosophers the world has ever known... but now I wish for only one thing,"

You stopped, swallowing a lump in your throat, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall.

"To be a mother," you whispered, "to impart my wisdom on someone, and love them more than anything. To show them the beauty of the world and watch them grow up, have children of their own, and carry on a legacy. It's the one thing I haven't done, and the one thing I want most in the world,"

You thought that Klaus would laugh, perhaps even mock you, but he didn't, instead his expression was sympathetic, and Elijah's was one of understanding.

"You are not the wild, reckless creature that we used to know," Klaus said, "you have changed,"

"And so have you," you replied.

The three of you sat in silence for a few minutes, letting the weight of the conversation settle.

"Did you find what you were looking for?" Elijah asked, his arm now firmly around your waist.

"All I found was a chains and a cell," you replied, "I was a fool, blinded by hope. All that awaited me was pain,"

Klaus poured you another drink, they couldn't help you, but at least they could offer you a distraction.

The night quickly dissolved into a drunken revelry. The three of you laughing and drinking, the old days a source of amusement. Your belly was full of blood and wine, and the tension between the three of you had dissipated.

"Now that I have determined you aren't a threat, it's time to get down to the real questions," Klaus said, "who is the better lover? Me or my dear brother,"

"Seriously?" You exclaimed, rolling your eyes.

"What?" He replied, "I'm just curious, I promise I won't get jealous,"

"I'm not answering that," you said.

"Yes, well, I would rather not hear the answer," Elijah interjected.

"You are no fun," Klaus replied, and then leaned forward, his gaze intense, "I'm going to assume it's me,"

"Interesting assumption," you said, raising an eyebrow, "but if we're talking about skills, there is a clear winner,"

Elijah grinned, and Klaus shot you an offended look. You laughed and finished the rest of the wine, setting the glass on the table.

"And I've always preferred passion over... Enthusiasm," you said, a hint of teasing in your voice.

Elijah didn't look up from his drink, his face neutral, but you could tell he was smiling. Klaus huffed, and crossed his arms.

"I would be delighted to remind you," Klaus said, leaning forward and placing a hand on your thigh, "just say the word, and we can retire to a more comfortable location."

You grabbed his wrist and twisted, until you felt his bones shatter. He cried out in pain, then quickly recovered, the bones snapping back into place.

"That's not how this works," you replied, smiling sweetly.

He stared at you, his expression changing from shock to a pleased smile.

"Still the same fire, I see," he replied, "a good reminder of the past,"

"If I were to sleep with either of you again, it would be on my terms, certainly not when I'm held captive," you snapped.

"Who said anything about holding you captive," Klaus replied, "if we were, you would still be shackled to the wall,"

"Some might enjoy that sort of thing," Elijah remarked, his cheeks were a bit rosy from drink and you enjoyed how it made him seem less cold.

"Have you done that sort of thing Elijah?" You teased, "I never would have taken you for a deviant,"

He shrugged, a sly smile on his face, "I don't divulge such things,"

"Oh, please, you can tell us," Klaus said, "unless you haven't, and are simply trying to pretend like you have,"

"Or perhaps he has and is ashamed of the things he's done," you added, laughing.

Elijah glared at the two of you, the playful glint in his eyes giving him away. He simply stood up and held out his hand to you, the confidence in his stance and the way he looked at you sent a jolt of heat through your body.

"The only way to know for sure, is to experience it for yourself," he said, his tone seductive, "I'll leave the choice up to you,"

You stared at him, a sudden desire coursing through your veins. This was a terrible idea, but at the same time, a chance to have a night of freedom and pleasure after months of torture was an offer you couldn't resist.

"If I say no, am I free to go?" You challenged, meeting his gaze.

"You were never a prisoner," he replied, "the only person keeping you here is yourself,"

He was right. They hadn't chained you, or compelled you, and now that the threat of danger was gone, there was nothing stopping you from walking out the door. But that was not what you wanted, and the look in his eyes was too enticing.

"Alright, but I need a shower first, I still smell of dungeon and witch piss," you said, standing up and taking his hand, "and you better not disappoint,"

He smiled, his eyes dark with desire, and pulled you into his arms, his lips crashing into yours. The kiss was intense, and you clung to his shoulders, melting into his embrace.

Klaus scoffed, he loathed being left out.

"Really?" he grumbled, pouring himself another glass. "Can you keep the noise to a minimum, I would prefer to have a little sleep tonight,"

You let out a soft giggle, "oh, don't pout, you can come too,"

Klaus raised an eyebrow, looking to his brother for an answer. Elijah nodded, a smirk on his face.

"If she insists," Elijah said, his voice smooth, "you know I've never been good at denying her,"

Klaus immediately got to his feet, throwing his glass of wine into the fireplace. The flames leapt up, the red embers glowing, illuminating the room in a fiery light. He walked over and wrapped an arm around your waist, his lips brushing your ear, his hand cupping your ass.

"Do you have any idea how many times I've fantasized about having you in bed again?" He whispered, his breath hot against your neck.

You smiled and pushed him away, enjoying his expression of surprise.

"Well, then, why are we still standing here," you said, sauntering out of the room, "the night won't last forever,"

Elijah caught up with you in the hallway, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing you up against the wall. He kissed you, his hands sliding down to your thighs and lifting you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and ran your fingers through his hair, deepening the kiss.

He carried you all the way to his bedroom, never once breaking the kiss. The room was dark, and the bed was large and covered in dark silk sheets. He pointed to his bathroom, and you pulled your tattered clothes off, leaving them on the floor.

You went into the bathroom and turned on the shower, waiting for the water to get warm. You felt his arms wrap around you and turned around, letting him press you up against the tile. He kissed you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth. His hands roamed your body, exploring every inch of bare skin, his touch igniting a fire within you.

Klaus quickly joined you, he had undressed in the other room, and stood naked in the doorway. You smiled at him, enjoying the way his muscles flexed as he moved.

Elijah pulled away from you to undress and you watched as his shirt was unbuttoned and fell to the ground. His pants followed, and your eyes roamed his body, admiring his muscular frame. The two of them were opposites in many ways, but they both had a beauty to them, and right now you could hardly choose which one you wanted more.

You took both their hands and pulled them under the steamy water, running your hands across their skin. Their bodies were warm and firm, their skin soft under your fingertips. You kissed Elijah, while Klaus kissed and licked your breasts, his hands wandering between your legs.

You could feel his fingers brush against your wet core, his thumb pressing against your clit. He slowly circled the sensitive nub, sending a wave of pleasure through your body. Your hands wandered down to Elijah's cock, gently stroking the hard length.

Elijah kissed you, his lips trailing down your neck, his hand gently caressing your breasts. You moaned, enjoying the feeling of their hands on your body.

Their touch was overwhelming, hands and mouths everywhere, and it was only when the water started to turn cold that you all stepped out, laughing and breathless.

Elijah pulled you on to his bed, and you fell on to his chest. His lips found yours and you lost yourself in his kiss. You felt the bed dip and Klaus pressed his lips against your shoulder, his hands running along your thighs. He kissed his way down your spine, his hands pushing your ass up in the air.

His lips trailed along the curve of your lower back, his fingers tracing the line of your hip. He placed a soft kiss on your inner thigh and you moaned, anticipation coiling in your stomach.

You felt his tongue flick across your pussy and you gasped, arching your back. He chuckled and began licking and sucking, his tongue expertly teasing your clit.

Elijah's hands cupped your face and you turned your attention back to him. His eyes were blown wide with lust, his gaze fixed on yours. You kissed him, the taste of the wine still lingering on his lips. His cock was hard against your stomach and you could feel his desire pulsing through his veins.

Your hand trailed down his chest, and you wrapped your fingers around his cock, slowly stroking the thick shaft. His eyebrows arched in pleasure, and you could feel his muscles tighten.

You kissed your way down his chest until you were level with his cock. You ran your tongue along the underside of his shaft, enjoying the sound of his low moans. A gentle hum left your throat and you felt him shudder.

You took him in your mouth, gently sucking and swirling your tongue. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair. His grip tightened and you increased your pace, taking his length deeper.

Klaus moved away for a moment, and you could see Elijah observing whatever he was doing, a dark smile spreading across his face. You felt the bed dip as Klaus returned, and he grabbed your wrists, pinning them behind your back.

A moment later, the soft leather of a belt wrapped around them, and he secured the belt, tight enough that you couldn't move, but not too tight that it hurt.

Elijah's eyes met yours, and a wicked smile played across his lips. "Do you enjoy being tied up? Being helpless and at our mercy?" He asked, his voice a deep growl.

You nodded eagerly, taking him further into your mouth. His eyes darkened, and he grabbed a fistful of your hair, his hips thrusting forward. You could feel him hit the back of your throat and gagged, your eyes watering.

Klaus kissed your lower back, then positioned himself at your entrance. You gasped as he slowly slid inside, the stretch sending waves of pleasure through your body. He held still for a moment, letting you adjust to his size, then slowly began to move.

You moaned, the sensation of being filled by both of them overwhelming. They began to move in a steady rhythm, Klaus thrusting into you while Elijah fucked your mouth. You were helpless, pinned between them, unable to do anything but submit.

The sound of their pleasure sent a shiver of delight through you, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to release. Elijah's breathing became ragged, and his grip on your hair tightened. You knew he was close, so you focused on pleasuring him, moving all the way down and swallowing.

He let out a low groan and came, his hot release spilling into your mouth. You swallowed every drop, then pulled away, gasping for air. You smiled up at him, his expression one of bliss.

Klaus continued to thrust into you, his pace increasing. He leaned forward and bit into your shoulder, his fangs sinking deep. You cried out in pain and pleasure, your body shuddering. His bloodlust combined with his own pleasure, the feeling overwhelming, but just as you were about to cum, he stopped.

You let out a whine, and he chuckled, his hands squeezing your ass.

"I don't think I'm quite ready for this to end," he murmured, pulling out.

Elijah's hands moved down to your arms, pulling you forward and guiding you onto his lap. You straddled him, your hands still bound behind your back, and his cock brushed against your wet core.

"Do you remember how you used to love riding me?" He whispered, his lips brushing against yours.

You nodded, eager for him to fill you. He grinned and lifted your hips, slowly lowering you onto his cock. He gripped your hips and began to move you up and down. You moaned, resting your head on his shoulder and grinding your hips.

Klaus positioned himself behind you, and you felt his hand trail down your back. His fingers traced the line of your ass, and then he spread your cheeks, exposing your other hole.

"You are such a pretty little thing," he murmured, pressing a finger against your ass, "all tied up and at our mercy,"

He slid a finger inside, the tight ring of muscle giving way. You moaned, the feeling of being filled by both of them overwhelming.

Klaus coated his cock with a lubricant and pressed it against your ass. Elijah held you still, his lips claiming yours in a heated kiss. You could feel the tip of Klaus' cock pushing into your ass and whimpered, the stretch bordering on painful.

Klaus slowly sank into you, letting out a low groan. He began to thrust, his movements slow and deep. The feeling of both of them inside you was almost too much, and you moaned, your body trembling.

"Are you enjoying this, love?" Klaus asked, his voice low and dangerous.

"Yes," you whimpered, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Elijah kissed along your jaw, his fingers digging into your hips, guiding your movements, rocking you back and forth on their cocks.

You felt the heat of their bodies pressed against yours, and their hands were everywhere, stroking, caressing, and teasing. The smell of their sweat and desire was intoxicating, and you were lost in the pleasure, your mind spinning.

Klaus pulled on your wrists, his mouth colliding with the side of your neck. You cried out as he bit into you, his fangs piercing your skin. Elijah kissed the other side, mirroring his brother's bite.

The combination of the pleasure and pain was too much, and you came, your orgasm crashing through your body. You writhed in their arms, your body trembling, waves of ecstasy washing over you.

They kept you pinned between them, bouncing you up and down, their movements rough and animalistic. The belt came loose, and your hands came free.

You wrapped your arms around Elijah's neck as another orgasm hit, this one even more intense than the last. He smiled at the look of pure bliss on your face and kissed you, his hands tangled in your hair.

Klaus groaned, pressing himself deep as he came, then he slowly pulled out, kissing the nape of your neck.

Elijah soon followed, his eyes meeting yours as he shuddered, spilling into you. You collapsed against him, exhausted and sated. He gently stroked your hair, his gaze soft and loving.

"I forgot how good you are at that," you mumbled, your eyes drifting closed.

He chuckled, his fingers gently tracing patterns on your skin. You snuggled against his chest, enjoying the warmth of his embrace.

Klaus laid down next to the two of you, his eyes bright, and a smile on his face. "What about me? Any thoughts?" He asked, and you giggled, the alcohol still coursing through your system.

"You were pretty good, too," you replied, reaching out and patting his arm.

He grinned, his hand coming to rest on the top of your thigh. "I don't know why we didn't do this earlier, it would have saved us all a lot of trouble," he said.

Elijah nodded, a small smirk on his lips, "you may be right,"

"I'm sorry for leaving you the way I did," you said softly, running your hands through Elijah's hair, "and thank you for coming to save me,"

He nodded, pressing a soft kiss against your forehead, then helped you off his lap, and onto the bed, covering the three of you with a silk sheet.

"Do you mind if I stay here a while? It's been so long since I've had a good night's sleep," you mumbled, your fingers curling into Elijah's chest, holding him tight.

He didn't reply, just pulled you closer, his hand stroking your back, lulling you to sleep.

"We've got all the time in the world, love," Klaus said softly, his voice barely a whisper, "we'll make sure no more nasty witches get their hands on you,"

It had been so long since you had felt so content, you could feel the warmth of their skin, smell their cologne, hear the beat of their hearts. You could taste the blood and whiskey in the air, and it felt right, like you had come home.

941 notes · View notes

backinmyphase · 4 months ago

Text

Not your letter

Synopsis: Gojo Satoru wouldn't call himself a very anxious man. But now as he hears cries every night, he can't help but worry- about his darling wife.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3300 words

Series masterlist

Contains: arranged marriage, generational trauma, jujutsu clans and higher ups

I'm sooo tired, but I hope you enjoy! I'm really happy you all seem so sincerely to enjoy it. Like always your comments make my day <333

Gojo Satoru liked spending money far too much.

After the last few days, this became clear very quickly. Yes, he was rich. But the way things were going this week, probably not for long.

He probably wouldn't even read every book that was on the bedside table.

Every morning he was awake before you and explored the town the two of you visited. When you were awake he took you out of the little charming hotel and showed you what he discovered.

You wouldn't see any problem in it if he didn't always had his credit card ready, the moment you looked at something.

And the two of you didn't need that many souvenirs either. But at the same time, it was hard for you to tell him not to use his money.

And now, too. As you walked through the small village. You knew what was coming when you passed a small café.

His eyes grew wide behind his sunglasses and a smile stole itself onto his face.

"Would you fancy something sweet?"

Not really. But he smiled in a way that made you feel sorry for taking the wind out of his sails.

So naturally, you left with three bags of sweet pastries.

Your mother would wring your neck. You could hear her lessons. 'You should bake something for your husband instead of letting him buy it!

"Don't you want something?"

Satoru looked at you with a bitten cupcake in his hand and some icing on his cheek. At the same time, he held out a new cupcake to you.

Of course, you didn't just take it because of his smile.

"Thank you." carefully you took a bite, trying to not look messy while you eat.

As you looked over to Satoru, you saw how he swallowed the rest of the cupcake in one go. You couldn't help but smile as you saw him chew way too much at the same time.

"Satoru, you have no manners." It was refreshing.

He gasped. "Am I now not even allowed to eat normally in front of my wife? What has the world come to?" Dramatically he held onto his chest.

His eyes shut and head tilted a bit back, he expressed his 'hurt' so playfully you couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh Satoru, if that's how you eat normally, I'm really concerned for your stomach."

As you saw how shooked he looked at you, you regretted saying anything. But then he grinned at you and leaned a bit forward.

"Did I just see my darling wife laugh?"

"It's not like I never laugh." you muttered as you started to eat again, hiding your embarrassment behind the pink, sprinkled, icing of the cupcake.

"Well, never before in front of me."

"Nonsense." you shook your head, while making sure your face was clean.

"It's true." he took another cupcake. "You should do it more."

The warmth that shot into your face was now a regular visitor. Something had changed. His presence made you jumpy, your heart was suddenly working overtime.

And your head. Oh, your head.

The thoughts that crept into it became more and more jumbled. Every time your looks crossed paths you couldn't help but spiral in a trail of thoughts, that made you feel dizzy.

You were truly sick. But it didn't feel bad.

A scream shattered the relaxed atmosphere. Your stomach turned when you saw a woman with a baby behind Satoru.

The baby was thrashing around, his voice continuing to tear the air and his cheeks red from the water running down.

The baby clutched the woman's hand, crying desperately.

"Are you okay?"

You quickly turned your head away to hide the rising panic. "Yes, I'm just tired."

His look spoke volumes. Always being tired was probably not the best sign.

"Then let's go back." He stood up, the food tucked away carefully.

"It's alright. It's not too bad."

He shook his head. "You look like I'm forcing you to go out everytime. I don't want that."

Defeated, you also stood up slowly and trotted behind him. You really wanted to enjoy your trip away, and get to know Satoru. But the words of the higher-ups were like a pest, constantly reminding you that your duty wasn't getting to know him.

It was having a heir.

"I'm sorry." your voice was hoarse, embarrassingly quiet. "I'm always in the way."

He laughed, while slowing down, to adjust to your speed. "What do you mean?"

"I'm always breaking of our time." you shook your head. "We barely get to do something."

"Oh please." he chuckled. "We have still plenty of time. We are just three days away. And it's not a problem, I still get to know you."

He looked at you again, his sunglasses barely covering his skylike eyes. "And I know." He smiled at you. "That you are not sleeping very well. Or that you are very exhausted. Maybe both."

"Am I right?"

He was. You were sleeping terrible. Even though the reading helped with sleeping in, the nightmares didn't disappear.

The constant thoughts about your 'duties' were kept alive through them. You wished you could just forget all of these things. Satoru seemed like he could.

You just shrugged.

"Just try to sleep when we are back." Slowly, very hesitant, did his hand engulf yours. His hand was warm. So, so warm.

"I have planned something for later. And I want you to be able to enjoy it."

You were wrong. Gojo Satoru didn't like spending money too much. He just enjoyed spoiling you far too much.

"So how do you like your little 'rebellion'?"

The dark surrounding you, engulfed your mother almost whole as she sat there in her chair. Her arms crossed like chains, heavy, ready to arrest you.

"It's not like that-"

"Yeah, yeah." she waved her hand, wiping your words away. "That's what they always say."

Her leg twitched, but her face remained a mask. She sat unimpressed on her throne, looking at you like you stole candy. "How did you imagine all of this?"

She crossed her legs, it's twitching being held down like a child. "What did you think will happen after all of this?"

You looked at her, your mouth thin as a line. Your tongue felt like it was chained down. Heavy, like a boulder.

"Perhaps…" She tilted her head. "Running away together?"

'Stop.' you wanted to say, no scream. 'Stop speaking.'

"Maybe a romance where he takes you in his arms? Just leaving jujutsu society together behind?"

Your body felt light and so so heavy at the same time. Dizziness overtook you mind, making your vision blurry.

"No Clans and no responsibilities. Like Paris and Helen." she laughed loudly, her voice made you shiver.

"That would never happen. You know that. You are no Helen. Helen was a beautiful, desired and foolish woman. She didn't consider her people."

She stood up, while you lost your balance, she was suddenly towering above you, looking down with this well-known expression.

"And Gojo is no Paris. As if he would start a war for you. This boy has no courage. That's just selfish to wish." she shook her head again.

"Stop mother." your throat was burning. "This is pointless. Satoru is not like that. Satoru-"

Her eyes narrowing like a predator ready to pierce her prey. "I'm just reminding you to not do something foolish. And after your recent behavior that seems rather needed."

Your hands were shaking, sweating. Your breath was heavy and your body seemed paralyzed. You felt like a kid again. Crawling to your mother crying.

'I don't want to marry someone I don't know!' you hiccuped, chocking on your own tears a bit. 'I don't want-'

You still felt the burning sting on your cheek. Still felt her unforgiving stare as she looked at you.

'You don't have to want. You have to fulfill your duty. And that's bringing connections to your clan.' she didn't scream. No she was in control of herself what made it so much worse.

"So stop whining."

You only saw darkness. Your body jolted uncontrollably, it felt like being pushed down into the darkness.

Like you were dying.

"Enjoy your time. And use it." She waved and-

Your consciousness came crawling back, while you were being shaken awake. You felt cold, unbearable so. The sweat on you rather sticky.

It was a nightmare.

"Everything is alright."

You felt heavy, eyes fighting to open. But in the end they lost. You were so tired. Every ounce of sleep was a fight with your conscience. It was almost… Unnatural.

Warm arms embraced you, pulling your limp, cold, and heavy feeling body towards their warmth.

"I'm here now."

You knew it was him. It was the only logical explanation. But it felt so surreal. Feeling his strength and reassurance so close.

His grip on you was not forceful. No, it was so soft you couldn't help but start slipping into unconsciousness again.

"I'm sorry."

You didn't know why you apologized. It just felt right.

"How late is it?" you paced through the room, while Satoru layed lazily in the bed, yawning.

"Don't know. It's not that important." as he sat up his silver white, no snow white hair was sticking up in all directions. It was so messy, it was endearing. Which is obviously just a fact-

"I thought you had something planned? Why didn't you wake me up?" you gathered new things to wear, since you obviously had to take a shower.

"You were sleeping so peaceful." he shook his head like it was obvious. "That was the first time I saw you smile in your sleep."

You stop for a second, cheeks feeling like they were on fire. "You watch me sleep?" you joked, while you pretended to look for something in your suitcase.

"No! I-, that's not what I-, I don't…" he stopped and you couldn't help but chuckle at him. It felt so crazy to have him stutter. You looked at him over your shoulder, hoping to have cooled down your face.

As he saw you holding in a laughter, his panicked look fell.

"Oh, ha ha." he raised an eyebrow.

"What did you plan? Can we still do it?" You didn't want to cancel his plans. Not Again. Not because of you.

He scratched his the back of his neck while thinking a bit. "Do you know the time?"

"It's…" you search for the clock in the bath. "8:46 PM? How long was I out??"

He chuckled while murmuring something to himself. You wanted to ask but also didn't.

"Well it is a bit late. Don't know if you even want to-"

A long, loud growl from your stomach interrupted him. Silence set in while he was just looking at you. The warmth in your face returning.

And then he laughed. "Well I guess that answers my question. Can't let my sweet wife starve."

"Sure, Satoru." you muttered as you chuckled a bit too. "Because you are of course not hungry at all after being here the whole day."

He grinned crookedly, while pulling the blanket away and also standing up. "Let's just make ourselves ready and then go."

You nodded and gathered what you found for yourself. Standing up from the ground and gripping the door of the bath, you stopped as he spoke again.

"But if it's too much please say so right away. I don't want you to suffer through anything."

Hands sweating again, you smiled at him. "I will." Then you got ready.

Satoru was nervous as fuck.

It still felt so unreal. Having you in his arms, you holding so desperately onto him, but slowly over time relaxing.

You cried. During your sleep.

It wasn't a one time thing. You cried almost every night. It was very silent, almost not audible, but he could hear it.

And see it.

He wanted to help you, but didn't know if he overstepped a silent boundary. A boundary so carefully layed out the last days.

But today was different. You spoke. Saying something like 'Stop mother'.

And you whispered his name.

He didn't know why. Didn't know if you had a nightmare where he was a part of, but he felt like he had to help you. Like you called for him.

He didn't watch you sleep. He listened to you sleep. To your cries.

"Where are we going?" you looked around. This was not a street you two had explored before and it was dark enough that you couldn't recognize even if you did know it.

"It's a surprise. Guess you have to wait." he grinned as he went sternly, while still making sure you two were going next to each other.

"You are so unfair sometimes." you shook your head. "Can't believe I married you."

"Oh please." he grinned back at you, playing into your dramatics. "As if you don't love surprises."

"Oh, Satoru." you deadpanned at him. "I hate them."

For two seconds you just stopped and looked at each other. But then you started laughing at his nervous expression.

"I'm joking, sorry. But you should have seen your face!"

He chuckled lightly, while looking around. Then he grinned back at you. "Well I hope you were joking, because here it is!"

You looked around but only saw a fancy restaurant. After looking for any small places you usually had take out, it dawned on you that the restaurant was the place he wanted to go.

"Oh Satoru…" you looked at the old, but very preserved, Restaurant in front of you. The letters on top of it almost shy, not being big and very eye catching, but very elegant. It spelled Sato's Kitchen.

"If you don't like it, we can always go back-"

"It's not like I don't like it!" you interrupted him, before he could make false conclusions. "It's just… This was very expensive, was it not?"

"Why talk about money? Let's just have a nice evening." he smiled and you knew it was expensive. Defeated you sighed.

"Okay. But you have to stop spending so much money-"

"Alright, let's go!"

He just took your hand and pulled you softly behind him.

It was very late. So it wasn't so surprising that your reservation was already long gone. But as you stood there behind Saturo while he tried to get a table for you, you felt bad.

It was almost laughable how naiv you were.

Dragging him out at these hours just to be told that they didn't have any tables left and we should come back tomorrow.

"Is there really no way-"

"I'm sorry good sir, but we are out. We can rearrange your reservation for tomorrow."

They were very kind for that. But you still felt bad.

"That wouldn't be so bad, would it Satoru?"

He nodded, obviously a bit frustrated as he gave his information to make the reservation or furthermore rearrange it.

"Yeah, that's alright." he muttered to the waiter. After making sure everything was alright, yoi two left shortly.

It was a bit embarrassing. Showing up almost an hour and half late at such a desired restaurant. Another reason you felt bad.

"I'm so so-"

"Well we can still do it tomorrow." Satoru smiled. Smiled so softly at you that you felt like crying. It made you feel so stupid, so unstable.

"Yeah." you almost chocked at the word.

He started going again, silently trying to get you to walk ahain. Silently walking beside him, you tried to find the light words you just had said so easily. But there were none.

"Well we can still have take out." he walked closer than before. Not too close, just a bit closer. "If that's alright for you?"

You chuckle a bit, trying to relax. "Of course. That sounds lovely."

The night was beautiful. The moon was already high up and you could see countless of stars here. In Tokyo you could only rarely see the stars. It was comforting.

The silence between you wasn't awkward anymore. Maybe you two did start to get to know each other in a way. Even though Satoru was still a mystery to you most of the time.

It just was comfortable as a whole.

Going together to your favorite ramen shop. Eating in silence and slowly walking back.

It must be really late. But Satoru did bring the bag of the sweet pastries. And as you were walking back to your hotel, he did eat from them.

You couldn't help but watch him. It was cute really. How he enjoyed it so much. And a small smile made it's way onto your face.

"Did you Always like sweets this much?"

Satoru looks at you and thinks. A cupcake still in his mouth, he tries chewing faster to give you your answer.

"Well, I think I did." he coughs as his mouth was empty. "When I was a kid I wasn't allowed to eat anything sweet or unhealthy because of those obsessive higher ups. Said it would make my powers weaker, to keep me away from them."

He took another big bite after saying that and smiled at you as he chewed.

"Well," he was grinning like an idiot after he swallowed. "After I started eating sweets I didn't get weaker. In fact quite the opposite!" He laughed.

You admired him, as he took another bite. That he could just call them obsessive and wipe it away. You wished you could not care.

And as he took his last bite, you looked at the remaining cupcakes and wondered. Could you try making them for him? Would he like them?

It was too late to think anymore, after you got home you just got ready for bed and layed down while Satoru was in the bathroom.

But as you wanted to close your eyes, this uneasiness from before seemed like it was back again. You began to feel cold and wrapped yourself tighter in the blanket.

Satoru came out of the bathroom looking at you, like he was fighting with himself.

And in a moment of weakness and exhaustion you let yourself say the words you normally would only think.

"Do you want to sleep in the bed?"

He just looked at you, the darkness around you made it hard to see his expression. Also your vision started to get blurry because of your tiredness.

"If you don't mind.".

You yawned as your eyes fell close. "You helped…" you mumbled and didn't fight your exhaustion anymore.

And as you felt his warm arms around you, again you couldn't help but smile.

Satoru didn't want to wake you up, but he also wanted to do his daily routine round to get you and himself breakfast. Tough decision.

Before all of this he would have never gotten up earlier than he had too. But here with you it was different. So so different.

And he didn't want to let you go. But in the end he did get up and got ready to leave for his round.

As he went down the stairs, Hina's Grandma smiled at him like every morning.

"Good morning, Mr. Gojo. On your way again?"

He laughed a bit and nodded. It was part of the routine to talk to her a bit, as she was a lovely person and knew the place well.

"Well a two letters arrived today. Both adressed at Mrs. Gojo. So I thought I could give them to you for later."

She handed him the two envelopes with a smile.

He didn't mean to sneak into your business or anything like that. But he couldn't help but feel uneasy almost angry when he saw the names of the senders.

One was from the higher ups. And one from your mother.

And he felt cold as he wondered why they would only write you.

Ongoing Taglist (If you want to be added just say so it's no problem <3):

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@karlaolea @slut-for-fictional-men @tnt-kokoo @gojoscumslut @sillyfreakfanparty

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@alinasromanova @miizuzu @cgmajor @reactwithjan @mereniss

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #jjk satoru #jjk x reader #gojo angst #jjk #jjk gojo #arranged marriage #jjk angst #tw nightmares

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willowsnook · 3 months ago

Text

Oblivious

hi hi hi!!! can I request pulled pork with bell peppers and wheat bread please??? thank youuuu! I adore your writing, and I hope you’re having a good week!!! <333

Charles leclerc x bsf!reader

I’d be insane not to love you

It was a gorgeous day in Belgium, and you were hanging out with your group of friends in Ferrari’s hospitality area.

“I’m bored; can we go walk around outside?” you asked Arthur, giving him your best puppy-dog eyes. He chuckled and held out a hand to pull you up. Together, you walked down to the paddock, breathing in the summer air and the lively atmosphere.

“Arthur!” a voice called from behind you. You turned to see an unfamiliar face waving at your friend—a guy with a youthful charm and a sun-kissed complexion that matched his dark hair. He was grinning, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he looked at you as if he already knew you.

“What’s up, man?” Arthur said, pulling the guy into a hug. “Have you met Y/N?”

The guy shook his head and extended his hand. “I’m Gabriel.”

“Nice to meet you,” you replied with a smile, and his gaze lingered on you for a beat longer, like he was connecting some dots.

“You’re Charles’s friend, right?” he asked. You nodded, and he laughed. “Yeah, he told me to stay away from you.”

Arthur laughed, but you blinked in surprise. “He told you to stay away from me?”

Gabriel flashed a cheeky grin. “Probably afraid I’d sweep you off your feet.”

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. “Why would he care?”

Gabriel shot Arthur an amused look, as if they knew something you didn’t.

Back at the garage, you couldn’t stop replaying the conversation, even as Charles caught up with you. “Are you okay?” he asked, scanning you with concerned eyes. “Did you get something to eat? Water?”

“Yes, Charlie, I’m fine,” you giggled, and he relaxed a bit.

“Are you staying down here or going up to the club?” he asked.

“Maybe upstairs with everyone else,” you replied.

A slight frown appeared on his face. “Unless... maybe stay down here? It’s more interesting down here, ya know?”

“Okay I’ll stay down here,” you agreed and he smiled. “I met someone new today.”

“Oh yeah, who?” He asked.

“Gabriel Bortoleto,” you replied and you watched him look away instantly, cheeks reddening. “And he said the funniest thing.”

“He’s a funny guy,” Charles mumbled and you smirked.

“Hilarious, especially the joke about how you told him to stay away from me,” you drawled out and Charles was looking anywhere but at you.

Before he could answer, Bryan called for him, and Charles looked relieved to escape the conversation. “Gotta go! And don’t wander, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah.”

“I mean it, mon cheri,” he said, giving you a quick hug before heading off.

Rebecca was already sitting by the screens, so you joined her, and the older woman gave you a wide smile.

“Watching from down here today?” She asked and you nodded, fiddling with the headset.

“Charles insisted,” you replied, and she smirked. You told her about the incident with Gabriel and she just laughed, shaking her head.

“When are you going to realize that Charles is in love with you?” she asked playfully.

You laughed. “He’s not in love with me. I’m just his best friend.”

“You’re the only best friend down here, though,” she commented, but you brushed it off.

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

Summer break meant one thing: Charles bothering you nonstop to hang out. He couldn’t quite wrap his head around your 9-to-5, which is why you were now on a walking lunch with him, walking Leo through a nearby park.

“You should just quit your job,” Charles said for the millionth time.

“I need money, Charlie,” you reminded him as Leo sniffed the grass. “Not all of us get paid millions for working weekends.”

He ignored your comment. “Let me fund your lifestyle.”

“And be what—your maid?” you joked, rolling your eyes. “You’re asking me to be a stay-at-home wife without marrying me.”

He muttered something under his breath, and you looked at him. “What was that?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly, tugging Leo along.

You sighed. “I like my job, Charles.”

“I know. I just don’t like that I can’t see you whenever I want.”

“We see each other all the time.”

“It’s not enough,” he mumbled and you grabbed his hand, forcing him to look at you.

“You are my best friend Charles,” you told him. “It doesn’t matter if I see you everyday or just once a week, nothing is going to change that.”

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

That night you were at the Leclerc’s family home, as they had invited you over for dinner along with the boys. After dinner, you, Charles, and Arthur stayed up drinking and while you paced yourself, Charles did not.

You knew he was drunk because he had been so physically affectionate for the past hour. It started with him moving his arm behind you while you guys were seated on the back patio. Then, he ran his hand up and down your thigh. Now his head was lying in your lap, and you absentmindedly massaged your fingers through his hair.

You were telling Arthur about your latest work project when Charles chimed in.

“I told her to just quit her job,” he complained to Arthur.

Arthur smirked. “And be your stay-at-home wife?”

“That’s what she said—and that I’d have to marry her,” he grumbled, as if you weren’t right there. “Which was already my plan.”

Arthur’s eyebrows shot up, and you froze. Charles hadn’t said anything like this before. But he was drunk. Just drunk thoughts... right?

“You know she can hear you Charles,” his brother said nervously.

“It doesn’t matter, I could kiss her on the lips right now, and she’d probably just write it off as something ‘best friends do.”

Arthur didn’t say anything; you just sat there, mind-reeling. Your hand was frozen, and Charles reached up to grab it so that you could keep massaging his head. Arthur said goodnight to you, and you stayed out contemplating what had just happened. The Gabriel thing made sense to you now, but he had never said anything before. These were probably just drunk thoughts. Yeah, that made the most sense.

“I’m tired,” Charles said, looking up at you. “Will you stay the night?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” you said softly, and he frowned.

“Why? You always do,” he pushed back.

“I just want to go home,” you whispered, moving off the couch after he sat up. Avoiding his stare, you grabbed your keys and headed towards the door. He called after you, but you kept walking; you just needed to breathe. You were supposed to leave with Charles tomorrow to fly to Spain to see Rebecca and Carlos, but now you were very stressed.

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

The next morning, Charles acted like nothing had happened, which was somehow both comforting and frustrating. You both fell into your usual traveling routine, playing cards and chess to distract him on the flight to Spain, where Rebecca and Carlos were waiting at a coastal villa.

As you toured the villa, Rebecca shared a bit of news with a smirk. “There’s only two bedrooms.”

Your heart skipped, but Charles simply shrugged. “No problem. We’ve shared a room before.”

Smiling weakly you agreed and followed him to put the luggage away.

“I’m going to change into my swim shorts and go down to the beach,” Charles told you as you unpacked your suitcase.

“That’s a good idea, I’ll do the same.”

You heard him go into the bathroom to change so you decided to change in the main room. Pulling out your favorite black bikini, you slipped the bottoms on but were struggling to tie it behind your back when you heard the bathroom door open.

“Can you help me?” You called out to Charles and you heard him walking towards you. He didn’t say anything, and you felt his fingers brush against your bare back as he tied the strings. Turning around to thank him, the words caught in your throat when you saw the look on his face. He was flushed, his pupils blown wide as he glanced up and down at you, wearing basically nothing in front of him.

“Thank you Charlie,” you whispered softly and he swallowed before murmuring a response.

Thinking about what he had said last night, you felt the tension between the two of you even as you walked down to the beach. Charles went to join Carlos in the water, and you plopped down next to Rebecca.

Filling her in on what happened last night she smiled knowingly at you.

“He basically confessed he’s in love with you, and here you are, making excuses.”

“He was drunk!”

“Oh my god,” she said laughing. “He was right, he literally could kiss you and you wouldn’t believe it. I just don’t understand.”

“I don’t know,” you said sighing. “I guess it’s insecurity; he lives in this world of glamour and flashing lights full of influencers and celebrities. I’m just me, a normal girl who has a normal job and a normal past.”

Rebecca squeezed your hand. “Have you ever thought maybe he likes you because of that? That maybe you make him feel like he can just be himself when he’s with you and not Charles Leclerc the Ferrari golden boy?”

“I guess,” you said thoughtfully. You had never really looked at your friendship with Charles that way, but it made sense. While yes Charles invited you to races and fancy trips with him, you often spent time doing mundane things together, like walking Leo or getting groceries. When you really thought about it, you realized that those were your favorite moments. You would take cooking dinner together on a random Monday night anytime over accompanying him to an event.

Fuck, you were in love with your best friend and it scared the hell out of you.

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

The next day, you avoided Charles at all costs, which was pretty difficult considering you were basically on a couples vacation. It also was incredibly noticeable how you insisted that Rebecca be your partner for everything and wanted to just have girl time in the afternoon.

She didn’t bring him up, but she knew you were waging an internal war with yourself, so all she could do was be there if you wanted to talk it through. Your feelings were still at the forefront of your mind when dinner rolled around, and you were much quieter than usual. It was like Rebecca and Carlos were out for dinner because they were the only ones talking. You were eating silently, and Charles was just staring at you.

Fed up with the situation, Carlos stood up, pushing his chair back, “I think I would like to spend some quality time with my girlfriend, so goodnight you too.”

Rebecca smirked at her boyfriend, knowing he was impatient with the dance you and Charles were doing around each other, and got up to follow him. Gathering the plates, you walked back into the kitchen, and Charles followed you, helping dry as you washed the dishes.

You were about to turn to go upstairs when he gently grabbed your elbow, causing you to look at him, “Can we take a walk? Please?”

Those dark blue eyes looked at you with such a pleading gaze that you nodded.

Slipping off your shoes, you followed him down to the beach, and the walk was silent for a bit as you stuck in your head.

“Mon cheri, please tell me what’s wrong,” Charles said, breaking the silence to look at you. He had stopped walking, and you turned to him, eyes already filling up with tears.

“Tell me what to do to fix this,” he begged, and you felt like all your emotions were going to burst like a volcano.

“I’m in love with you Charles!” You yelled, surprising even yourself. Charles’ eyes widened and a grin broke out on his face.

He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to wipe a stray tear from your cheek. His touch was gentle, almost skittish as if he were afraid you might disappear if he moved too quickly. You felt a shiver run through you, not from the cool evening air but from the intensity of his gaze.

“Then why are you crying?” he asked softly, his voice filled with a warmth you’d only dared to imagine. You took a shaky breath, trying to gather the courage to say everything that had been locked in your heart.

“Because… because I’m afraid. Afraid of losing what we have, of things changing, of you finding someone who actually fits into your world,” you whispered, your eyes cast down.

Charles cupped your face gently, tilting it up so you had no choice but to look into his eyes. “Mon chéri, I don’t want anyone else. I don’t care about the parties, or the cameras, or the lights. When I’m with you, I can just be Charles. Not the driver, not the celebrity—just… me. I'd be insane not to love you,” he murmured, his voice filled with a sincerity that made your heart swell.

Before you could fully process his words, his lips brushed against yours, tentative at first, testing. But as you melted into him, all your worries slipped away, replaced by the overwhelming warmth of his kiss. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you as if he never wanted to let you go.

When he pulled back, you could see the hint of a smile on his face, soft and full of promise. “I love you,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"I love you too, Charlie."

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc

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