#i meant to put just a few things and i done lost my mind
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veinpursuer · 4 months ago
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WHERE’S MY FUKING CAPO
#my post#funny#relatable#guitar#music#bjork#wait you can only have 30 tags the joke is much less funny if i don’t have a fucking wall of the stuff i guess i’ll just make this one reall#and 140 characters per tag this is stifling my creativity meh i was running out of popular tags anyway bjork’s not that popular of a tag tho#tbh i was running out of inspiration after like the 4 tag this joke was not meant to be at least not by my hand and i guess it wasn’t that f#unny either i cooled down real fast on that one you know what i’m pivoting this is no longer popular tags just my train of thought for as lo#ng as i feel like it the first few one might not even make sense when i’m done but who cares not me clearly it is quite annoying how i can’t#use commas tho make’s this harder to read than it needs to any way i lost my capo for like the third time my desk isn’t even that messy but#don’t know where else i would’ve put it it’s not lying on any of my instruments either i probably put it quote somewhere i would remember un#quote but clearly i didn’t i’m usually very good at remembering where i put things put the capo is the zone in between i use this often and#i use this every other year so i never remember where it is stored it is 1 am so i guess i’m going to bed soon anyway but still this is goin#g to annoy me until tomorrow i don’t even need it right i’ve had to remove so many tags the original joke barely makes sense anymore i’m kee#ping bjork tho you can pry her out of my cold dead hands not that i really listen to her music or know her i just like saying her name i’ts#got good mouth feel and it’s fun to spell i didn’t realize how long filling 30 tags would be what’s 140 times 30 let me look it up 4200 this#makes this post my biggest project by like 3000 words the only time i’ve written any meaningful lengths of texts was in college and i’m a dr#opout what 4200 characters not words silly little me makes a lot more sense now that i think about it i’m getting tired of writing so this m#ay end soon i would like to not go to bed at 4 am for a silly little post 2 people are going to read plus i am running out of ideas of thing#s to write i am very much not a writer writing scares me even writing lyrics for songs terrifies me i’ve only manage to write lyrics for one#without getting too self conscious and imploding but i’m better at writing songs with vocals i’ve never had anyone to write music with and w#ithout the ability to sing or write lyrics it’s been difficult the singing has been more or less remedied with synth v but the puter can’t w#rite lyrics for meso until i get a lyricist friend i will have to toughen up you can’t make art without making yourself known to those who c#onsume it but lyrics and poetry has always been 1 step too far for me tbh i’d rather spontaneously combust rather than let people know me i#do not look at my very numerous in stars and time posts and reblogs they are completely unrelated to this don’t think about it oh look behin#d you there’s a distraction oh you’ve missed it i have been writing this for half an hour and i am getting so sick of it i revealed informat#ion about the inner machinations of my mind i have not done this since last time i saw a therapist 5 years ago this is fucked up what a self#impose writing challenge can do to you luckily this is the last tag i’m doing lucky me well this was fun this is going to end suddenly so do
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seonghwaddict · 9 months ago
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save a horse, ride your best friend — song mingi
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in which your best friend can’t believe you’ve never ridden a dick before, so he takes it upon himself to teach you.
best friend!song mingi x fem!reader. requested by anon. genre. slight fluff. smut. best friends to friends with benefits. warnings. explicit sexual content mdni, inexperienced!reader, thigh riding, fingering, use of a dildo, big dick!mingi, multiple orgasms, unprotected, creampie, swearing, nicknames (baby, angel, pretty). wc. 4k. rating. mature.
lilo’s notes. this was requested a while ago but i’ve been putting it off because… i’ve never written anything about toys being used so uh, i was worried about the pacing and stuff. i wasn’t sure if you meant for them to be in an established relationship, so i went for the fwb route. IMPORTANT!!!! i lost access to my google account bc of a stupid mistake, if you sent in a request through my google form and would still like me to see it, please send it as an ask <33 i remember a few of them, but do send yours in just in case!!
listening to. need to know, doja cat // if u think i’m pretty, artemas // moonlight, kali uchis
masterlist.
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it was a regular saturday evening. you were on a video call with your best friend, mingi, talking about anything that came to mind as you each ate a bowl of ramen as if you were really in the same room. he really only lived a couple buildings away, a two minute walk at most, but actually joining you in your apartment didn’t cross his mind until something interesting was brought up.
you weren’t sure what led to the conversation, but somehow it steered into the direction of something less innocent as you found yourself talking about an embarrassing date you’d gone on a while ago. recounting the story, laughing together, soon turned into a conversation about what each of you like in bed.
“oh, it’s just amazing,” mingi laughed as he gulped down a mouthful of water, momentarily pausing his rambling about how much he loves it when someone rides his dick. he ran a his hand through his short, washed-out pink hair, “honestly, my favourite thing ever since it probably feels just as good for whoever is, y’know, riding.”
based on everything he’s said so far, you came to the conclusion that he was more into giving than receiving, that he got off on seeing all the pleasure he can give his partner. so, it made sense he’d choose to mention the fact that riding him would feel good. not that you would know.
“can i admit something?”
he looked up from his bowl, sharp eyes looking almost hopeful as he nodded.
you looked around your kitchen jokingly, pretending to make sure no one sense was listened as you leaned closer a whispered, your hand cupping the side of your mouth.
“i’ve never done that before.”
his jaw dropped at that, letting out a small laugh. “you’re kidding.”
“no, really,” you insisted, going back to eating casually as if you were having the most normal conversation in the world with your best friend, “i really haven’t done… much, so i can’t confirm or deny your theory.”
“huh.” he leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as he thought for a moment. his head tilted and it was then that you felt how warm your cheeks felt, how your thighs were pressed together under the counter. of course, he was well aware of the fact that you had much less experience than him, only knowing about two people you had slept with. but damn. he clicked his tongue and shook his head ever so slightly. “that won’t do.”
furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your mouth to ask him what he had meant by that. he beat you to it before you could get a word out.
“i can… teach you, if you want?”
you blinked at your screen, resting your wrist on your countertop and gripping your chopsticks a little too hard. a silence followed his offer, though it wasn’t awkward. in fact, he could see you genuinely considering it as you thought it over. eventually, you gave him a tiny nod.
“i mean,” you shrugged, shifting your eyes away shyly, “sure, i guess. why not?”
he grinned, trying to hide it as he shoved a mouthful of noodles into his mouth and shoved his bowl aside. he chewed, swallowed then got up and made sure to bring his phone with him. you recognised his hallways then bedroom as he walked through his apartment. “i’ll be there in like 15, i need to buy something on the way. just wait there, and where something comfortable and… um, accessible.”
you nodded, despite your confusion, and he hung up. accessible? you looked down at your clothing—or rather, lack thereof. since you were home and not expecting anyone, you’d settled on wearing just a shirt you stole from mingi that was too large for him and much larger for you, and panties. you lifted the hem of the worn shirt, assessing how much of your dignity you’d lose if he saw your pink hello kitty undergarments that you only wore if you were doing laundry.
you could already hear him giggling at the sight.
groaning and cursing under your breath, you dropped the shirt and sped to your bedroom to dig through your closet in hopes of finding something a little more appealing. after making a mess of one of your closet’s drawers, you finally pulled out a pair of less offensive panties. they were made of soft cotton; a muted light blue with thin white lace trim, the cut shaped more like a bikini than what you call your grandma underwear.
deciding they were flattering enough, you slipped off your hello kitty pair—ignoring the embarrassing amount of wetness creating a wet patch right where it was pressed against your core—and replaced it with the new pair. as you untwisted the waistband and adjusted it to fit properly, your doorbell rang and you froze on the spot before pulling yourself together and heading to open the door.
the walk to the door felt abnormally long as you stumbled over on wobbly knees. admittedly, you were a little nervous. sure, there have been times where you wanted to do some more than friendly activities with mingi, but you never actually thought it was happen. yet here you were, opening the door for him so he could come in and show you what being a cowgirl feels like.
“hey,” he greeted you softly, stepping into your home and closing the door behind him. you noticed a small plastic bag in his hand, eying it curiously as you watched him kick off his shoes and hang up his coat. once that was of the way, he took one of your hands in your free one and pulled you to where he knew your bedroom was.
once there, he set the bag down on your bedside table and dragged you to stand between his knees as he took a seat on the edge of your bed. he looked you over, lingering on the familiar t-shirt.
“so you’re the one that took this shirt, huh?” he quirked an eyebrow, glancing up at you as he released your hand and brought both of his to your hips. his thumbs caressed the curve of your waist over the shirt. “it was my favourite.”
you laughed softly, “clearly you didn’t care enough if i was able to keep it for three years without you noticing.”
“you little thief.” his nose scrunched as he glared at you jokingly, giving you a gentle squeeze.
“if you really want it back, you can always take it.”
“nah, it’s fine, keep it. it looks cuter on you anyway.” he took a breath and gave you another once over, humming appreciatively when he moved his hands up higher, dragging the shirt with it until he caught a glimpse of your panties. you tensed, caught off guard by how close he felt. “i need you to relax a little, how about i help you loosen up, yeah?”
you nodded, averting your gaze but returning it to him when you felt him pull you onto his lap. he slotted one of his legs between yours, easing you down to straddle his thigh. his hands ran up and down your sides and few times before resting on your bare thighs, your breath stuttered and he held back a smile.
“are you still okay with this?” he asked quietly, absentmindedly playing with the hem of his your shirt. “if i do anything that makes you uncomfortable, just tell me and i’ll stop immediately and we can just watch a movie or something, okay?” when you only nodded, he continued, “i need you to say it, please.”
“i’m okay with this,” you muttered in return, resting you hands on his biceps, “and i’ll let you know if i need you to stop.”
“good, now…” without waiting any longer, he leaned forward to attach his lips to your neck, his hands slowly beginning to rock you back and forth on his lap.
you sucked in a sharp breath and clung into his arms a little tighter, your stomach fluttering at the feeling of your clothed cunt on his firm thigh, your panties dragging against your clit with ease thanks to how wet you already were. he lifted you slightly as he pulled you towards him, pushing you down as he pushed, the varying pressure making your lips part in a soft whimper. he nearly groaned at the sound, moving his lips right below your ear.
“you know,” he rasped between the licks and kisses, “i can’t deny that i’ve wanted to fuck you for a long, long time now.”
“r-really?”
mingi chuckled as he pulled back to look at your face, half surprised and half needy. he noticed that if he relaxed his hands, you’d continue grinding against his thigh.
“yeah, really. i mean, look at you,” he glanced down, one of his hands lifting the hem of your shirt to watch you ride his thigh slowly, a dark wet patch forming right where your leaking pussy sat. he bit his lip, “you look so perfect… and i bet you’d feel perfect, too.”
you nearly whined at that, fucking yourself on his thigh just a little faster as he sucked a dark mark right above your collarbone before returning to mutter dirty words into your ear.
“i know practically everything about you and your cute little body, you know. better than anyone else,” one of his hands inched it’s way up your thighs, brushing against the edge of your panties, “i’ll make you feel so good, angel, i promise.”
“mingi?” you whimpered, prompting him to lean back a little to look at you with a curious tilt of his head and a raised brow. “if you don’t shut up and kiss me right now, i might lose my mind so… please.”
his beautifully plump lips stretched into a smile as he wasted no time in practically pouncing forward and smashing his lips against yours. it started a little slow as you got acquainted with each other, despite the fact you could feel a nearing orgasm as a knot in your stomach drew tighter with each roll of your hips, but soon the kiss turned hungry.
he groaned into your mouth as you let his tongue explore, making you let out a quiet moan. mingi knew he wouldn’t be able to kiss anyone ever again. you, his best friend of all people, had the most inviting lips he’s ever felt. so inviting, so perfect and so soft. he thought everything about was soft. his hand slipped just under the edge of your panties as his other one made your grinds slow down.
you didn’t mind the slow pace, knowing just a few more rocks of your hips would have you tipping over the edge. but he evidently had other plans as he finally made your hips still completely. you pulled away from his lips with a pout. if you were trying to make him feel bad, it backfired terribly.
all he could think of as he looks at your swollen, red, wet, pouty lips is how much prettier they’d look wrapped around his cock. but he could save that for another time.
“there’s no need to rush, baby,” he chuckled, wiping some saliva away from your bottom lip.
eventually, when he was sure you had calmed down enough, he lifted you off his lap a little and turned to lay you down on your back, pressed against the comfortable mattress as he kneeled on the edge. he gripped your knees and bent them, pushing them closer to your chest with his eyes zeroed in on where your slick was leaking through your panties.
with one hand keeping your knees together and elevated, he ran his other over the fabric, pressing down on where he knew your clot would be and elicit a sweet little moan as you squirmed beneath him. he thought you were so cute like this, you looked so flustered as he gave you nothing but featherlight touches where you needed him most. for now.
“don’t get all shy on me now,” he cooed as he glanced up and noticed you covering your face with your hands, “let me see you, pretty.”
he didn’t continue his touches until you finally removed your hands, giving him a nice view of your abused lips and round eyes, pupils blown wide with lust in a way that had something stirring in his abdomen. and his pants.
he let down your knees for a moment so both of his hands could slip under the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs. he actually moaned when he saw the strings of arousal clutching onto the fabric as he dragged it away, snapping when he got too far.
“you’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured, watching your entrance squeeze around nothing, making more slick drip out.
after tossing it aside, he wasted no time in getting your knees back to the previous position and running his fingers through your folds.
“oh, fuck,” he groaned, eyes squeezing shut for a moment as you let out a moan when he tapped against your clit, “you’re soaked.”
he glanced up at you, wanting to see your face as he slowly pushed in too fingers and catching a glimpse of your hard nipples poking through your shirt. your face contorted for s fraction of s second before relaxing, your head tipping back against the mattress as you let out a whine.
he choked back a moan at the tight walls around his middle and ring fingers, the fingers of his other hand digging into your thighs. “sh-shit… you’re so tight. i’m gonna have to stretch you out first, okay?”
you nodded mindlessly, too distracted by his fingers prodding at your sweet spot to care about any words he may have said. but you furrowed your eyebrows and lifted your head when you felt both his hands leave you, finding him reaching for the bag. your curiosity outweighed your disappointment as he pulled something out.
it was a dildo. about as thick and long as the biggest person you had before, and made of what looked to be transparent silicon. your insides tightened at the sight, somehow the thought of him seemingly buying this just for you turning you on even more.
he returned to kneeling at the edge of your bed, leaning down to loop his arm around your waist and lift you up to place a pillow under your hips before letting lay back down.
“couldn’t find one my size, but this should be fine,” he held the dildo and ran the tip through your pussy, collecting wetness as you shuddered, “my cock will just have to stretch you the rest of the way.”
you breath hitched at the implication of his words. so he was bigger than that? your thighs pressed together at the thought of being completely stuffed by him. he chuckled, separating your knees enough for him to have a clear view of your pussy, pulsing and dripping and begging for his attention.
he began slipping the toy into you, filling you up inch by inch and watching your needy hole stretch around it and swallow it up. the sight had him choking back a moan, biting down on his bottom lip.
the stretch had your back arching and pushing yourself against it desperately, feeling like that alone could get you to finish. it only took a few deep strokes for your pussy to get used to the size, squeezing and writhing around it until you couldn’t handle it anymore. your arousal coated it quickly and seeped out with each stroke, squelching sounds filling the room that shot straight to his dick.
when you finally came, your toes curled and your body twitched as you let out a string of and whines and moans, little curses slipping between. he watched with fascination as you came undone right beneath him, not wanting to wait any longer to be inside you. he shoved the toy deep inside you, leaving it there as he leaned back for a moment to discard his clothes, slipping his hoodie and sweatpants off.
when you were brought back to your senses, you found yourself on his lap again, straddling his hips this time as he sat with his back against your headboard. you felt his erectile straining against his boxers and pressing against your core. you couldn’t help but rock your hips against his slowly.
“do you ever ride your pillow?” he asked suddenly, voice dropped what felt like two octaves lower than his regular tone. your eyes widened at the question but you nodded. he nodded too, his hands finding your ass and helping you grind against his clothes length. “this is a lot like that, except you have something in you… and it’s more of an up and down movement… and i’m obviously not a pillow… still, there’s really no right way to do it, just go slow and you’ll figure out what works and what doesn’t. plus, i’m here to guide you.”
he gave your ass a squeeze as if to punctuate his sentence, massaging the soft flesh in his palms. when you felt ready, you dropped your hands from his shoulders to his boxers, palming his length a few times before hooking your fingers into the fabric and dragging it down until his cock sprung out.
he definitely wasn’t lying when he said it would stretch you more than the already-big dildo. he was definitely a lot bigger than anyone else you’ve been with, well over average. you nearly dropped at the sight, wrapping your hand around him and jerking him off, eyes fixated on the angry red tip leaking precum as you passed your thumb over it.
the muscles of his abs rippled and squeezed as your worked your hands on his cock, his head thrown back against the headboard and letting out stuttering moans. all the sounds he made encourage you to sit up on your knees, guiding him through your folds and whimpering as you finally sank down on him carefully.
the two of you moaned at the same time, him at how well you squeezed around him and you at how well he stretched you. you stopped when you reached just halfway, unsure whether or not you’d be able to fit more. his hips jerked slightly as his hands squeezed your hips.
“come on, baby,” he moaned softly, looking up at you with encouraging eyes, “just a little more… we can make it fit, right? just breathe.”
you nodded and as you took a deep breath, he used his hold on your to sink you further down until he finally bottomed out. he cursed silently, the back of his head finding the headboard again as you whined and dropped yours onto his shoulder.
you felt his tip pushing against your cervix, the new feeling making a lump form in your throat as you blinked back tears. this time it took a while to get used to the stretch before you tried grinding back and forth. it was slow, almost painfully so. he was amazed that despite stretching you with two different things, you were still so unbelievably tight, hugging him in a death grip as your raised your hips an inch before dropping down again.
your soft noises were muffled by his shoulder as your hands rested on his biceps, panting and squeezing gently as every inch of him dragged against the sensitive spongy patch in your walls every time you grinded on him. soon enough you were able to lift yourself to his tip and drop all the way down, your wetness letting him slip in and out with ease.
still, you kept the pace torturously slow, savouring each bounce and grind. his hands had left your hips at some point, exploring your body under your shirt, massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples. he lifted the fabric but kept it on your as he watched your tits bounce temptingly, your puffy pink nipples making his mouth water as he pushed himself forward to take one into his mouth.
your hips stuttered as he sucked and nibbled at your nipples, throwing your head back and arching into his touch as your grinds grew sloppy. he felt your decreasing pace, using the hand that wasn’t teasing your other breast to guide your hips once more. he angled you slightly differently in a way that made your clit press against his pelvis each time he bottomed out, the speed of your grinds picking up quickly as his hips bucked up to meet yours.
his lips detached from your bruised breasts with a popping sound as he leaned up to capture your lips in his once again. it wasn’t much of a kiss, more teeth and tongue and moans and groans than anything else as you swallowed each other’s sounds.
you finished first, pushing yourself down hard and stilling, filling yourself with his throbbing cock and pressing your clit against him. he held you tightly, burying his face in your neck to suck at all the spot he knew would get your to writhe. many tickling fights contributed to his knowledge on all your sensitive spots.
your body twitched as you returned to bouncing on his length, your juices looking at his base. the overstimulation burned a little, making your thighs and knees quiver, but you were determined to get him to finish too. and by the looks of it, it shouldn’t take much longer.
“shit, baby,” he said, halfway between a whimper and a moan, fingertips digging into your hips as he threw his head back in bliss, “‘m so close— fuck, you feel s-so good.”
his chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, bottom lip caught between his teeth. his cheeks and the tip of his ears flushed a deep red, his plush lips a few shades darker and coated in your mixed saliva from your kisses. as you adjusted the angle of your hips, something in him snapped, grabbing your hips tighter and taking over. he took over your movements, thrusting his hips up desperately as you fell forward onto his chest with the sudden change in intensity. his tip pushed itself against your g-spot continually, another knot tightening in your stomach.
the wet sounds of your cunt and your skin slapping against his egged him on until finally he felt like he couldn’t hold back any longer.
“baby, p-please— fuck— please, can i cum i-inside you?” he begged through a groan, “i— please, angel, i-i can’t wait any longer.”
you nodded against his chest with a whine, you were on the pill anyway. not a second later, he released into you, filling you up with stuttering hips. he pulled you down, flush against him and keeping you there as he emptied himself with softly muttered curses, his head dropping to press open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder.
it felt new to you, the warmth making you squirm until you came again without warning. it was much weaker this time but still enough to make you shake in his arms, panting softly after letting out a strangled moan against his skin.
after a few long moments of trying to recover from the shared orgasm, he lifted his head, one of his hands cupping your chin to tilt your head to look at him.
“so,” he started, lips stretched into a smile, “how’d that feel?”
“fucking amazing.” you rolled your eyes at how smug he looked after your confession, not protesting as he leaned forward to kiss you.
this one was much softer than the previous kisses you shared, much more tender. it was a lot shorter too, he pulled away first to rest his forehead against yours.
“yeah?” he whispered, kissing the corner of your lips, “just wait until i hit it from the back.”
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networks. @cromernet @wonderlandnet @cultofdionysusnet @pirateeznet
permanent taglist. @ad0rechuu @sankatchu @mlink64 @yeosangsbb @seonghwasbbgirl @likexaxdaydream @dreamingofyeo @yalyallic @yunhoswrldddd @coffee-addict-kitten @thunderous-wolf @chngbnwf
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domuspeccati · 3 months ago
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Day 13 : I Love This Place
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Ft. Ahn Yujin
Kink : Stuck In Wall
“A little help!” Yujin shouts. She reaches for her phone, but it’s just out of reach. Not wanting to draw any more attention to herself, she waits to see if anyone offers any assistance. Yujin’s arms can only reach so far.
She sees her phone on the ground. As if it’s taunting her, it slides a little bit more out of arm’s reach. Yujin huffs and stands up. She tries her best to not get her legs tangled with anyone else’s on the way to her phone. “Excuse me,” Yujin says. She narrowly avoids one man’s foot, shifting to the side to step over it.
So far, her day hasn’t been too kind to her. Yujin has seen a drunk man harass a woman, she’s been bumped into, which made her drop her phone the first time, and she’s been stuck on this subway for the better part of half an hour.
Yujin, at long last, reaches her phone. She bends down to pick it up. “Gotcha,” she remarks under her breath. The girl clutches the phone and makes her way back to her seat. After hurdling the same pairs of feet from the spot where the phone rested back to the seat, Yujin sits down and breathes easier now that her phone is back in her possession.
The mobile device chirps. Yujin checks the message. “Oh great,” she mutters. “What could he possibly want?” Yujin reads the message mentally and a long sigh escapes her mouth. “I’m gonna be late,” the first message reads. “I know we have that project at work, but I can’t make it because traffic is a nightmare. I’ll try to be there as soon as possible. If you get there before me, work a little bit on it.”
She scoffs and rolls her eyes. The lethal combination of reactions would be enough to set anyone off. Knowing that she’s on a tight schedule, Yujin composes a message. “Okay then,” the first message reads. “I’m on my way right now. After I get there, I’ll cover for you.” Yujin sends the message and puts her phone back into her pocket.
Yujin sits patiently in her seat. Waiting for the stop where she gets off has never felt longer. She hopes that this ride will be over in the foreseeable future. She knows that this ride will only last a few more minutes, but to her, that’s an eternity.
The minutes pass in relative silence. Yujin listens to the occasional noises coming from the other passengers. Once the ride comes to a stop, she stands up and gathers her belongings. Yujin bows and apologizes for her outburst while heading for the exit. Once she’s at the exit, she leaves without a second thought.
The doors close behind her and she’s sent on her way. Yujin exits the station, walking up the stairs to ground level. She emerges onto street level and takes a brief look around. The area, which is practically engraved in her mind, makes the last leg of the journey easier.
She begins her walk to the office. Yujin keeps to herself, trying to balance it out after her outburst on the ride here. She tries to forget that instead focusing on the walk to her office. Yujin rounds the corner and this starts the longest straight walk of the entire day. No turns for the last few blocks, which definitely makes things a little easier on her.
Yujin tries to make her walk as easy as possible. The ride was emotionally taxing, so it still lingers in her mind. She tries to shake it, but her embarrassing moments always stick with her. “I need a drink,” she tells herself. “Or something.”
As she’s lost in her thoughts, Yujin bumps into a man. “Watch it!” You bark. Seeing that the girl meant no harm, you relax and open your mouth to speak again. “Looks like you’ve seen a fucking ghost. Speak.” You wait for a response and examine the girl who is dressed in formal attire.
She shakes her head. “I’m fine,” she tells you. ��Really.” Yujin tries to walk around you, but you don’t budge. “I really do have somewhere to be. I have this thing at work that desperately needs to be done.”
You smile at her and nod understandingly. “Well, can I interest you in something?” you ask her. “A pretty girl like yourself surely has needs or something.”
Yujin clicks her tongue. “I’m gonna stop you right there.” She puts one hand on your chest and pushes you gently. “I have to get to work. Anything else can wait.” Yujin then removes her hand from your chest and walks past you. She doesn’t want anything else to get in the way today.
“You don’t understand.” You grab Yujin’s hand. “It’s not just a hookup.” Your hands pull her closer, begging her to listen to you. Seeming like you’re begging for her attention, you let Yujin’s hands go. “You look to be in need of a little stress relief and I’ve had a long night. We should make ends meet.”
She shakes her head. Thinking about it for a moment, Yujin doesn’t move a single muscle. She then shrugs and stares at you. “Well, I don’t see a problem with it,” she tells you. “It’s not the first hookup. Won’t be the last one either.”
You smile, pleased with yourself. “Right this way then,” you instruct her. As Yujin follows you, you lead her into a dark alley. Once you make it to the end of the alley, you point to a door on the right. “It’s in this building. Just stick close to me and we’ll make sure that you have an absolute blast.”
Yujin sees the smile on your face. She doesn’t normally trust people who lead her into secluded areas, but she makes an exception. “Could’ve been anyone.” Yujin looks up at you and says it again. “It could’ve been anyone. Why am I the girl who gets asked? There’s surely other women on that stretch of road who are in need of a little bit of stress relief.”
You nod. “There was one earlier.” Your admission makes her look even more confused. You then open the door and both of you walk in. The strong smell of sweat hits you. You can tell that the smell is a little much for Yujin. “You just look like you don’t get enough relief.”
She laughs. “I can’t deny that,” she confesses. Yujin’s eyes meet the eyes of another man. “It smells like a gym here. Why did it have to be here?” Her question hangs in the air.
“There’s a simple answer.” You usher Yujin into an available side room. “I like my clientele to be in similar businesses.” Once you’re in the room, you close the door behind her. “Go over to that wall there.”
Yujin laughs. “Are you kidding?” she asks you. Her eyes lock onto the hole in the wall. “Let me guess…” Yujin releases a deep sigh. “There’s another cock on that side of the wall.” Yujin removes her blazer. “I’m not a huge fan of being shared. That’s something that I leave to my colleagues.”
You run your fingers through Yujin’s hair. “That’s a great idea.” You walk over to the hole in the wall and peep through it. “There’s no one on the other side. Considering that’s where we keep lube for the anal freaks, I’d be surprised if anyone found comfort in that cramped space.”
As you step away from the wall, Yujin realizes that she has no choice other than to trust you. Yujin puts her blazer on the seat next to the hole. She then picks her bag up and places it on the blazer. The girl moves closer to the wall and bends down. Yujin sticks her head through the hole in the wall.
You get a good view of Yujin’s ass. The pants surely don’t do it justice. To make sure that everything is good to go, you grab her pants and yank them down to her knees. “Nice choice of panties,” you tell her as you grab them.
Yujin tries to look back at you but remembers that her head is through the wall. “I made sure that you’d like them,” she jokes. Once her panties are pulled down, she feels your hands on her bare asscheeks. Yujin moans softly and then realizes that you’re going to take full advantage of the situation.
Not caring about being late to work anymore is relieving for her. Yujin sighs, happy that she’ll soon get the relief that she needs. Yujin attempts to position herself, but she realizes that you are holding her in place.
“The lucky man gets to decide,” you tell her. With that, you push Yujin closer to the wall. You put your back into it, shoving the girl by pressing against her shapely ass. Once you get her into the desired position, you move your hands away from the girl’s backside and grab the zipper of your pants.
Yujin attempts to wiggle. “This is a little uncomfortable!” she calls out. Yujin attempts to move again, but she’s genuinely stuck in place. “I’m stuck now? You want me to be a cocksleeve this badly?”
You laugh and unzip your pants. “Truth be told, I had a good look at your frame.” You take your cock out and place it on Yujin’s bare ass. “I knew that your body would be perfect for this hole, so I had to think about which room would give a tight squeeze but not so tight that it hurts you.”
She places her hands on the wall that’s touchable through the other end of the hole. “It’s just enough to where it doesn’t feel like I’m having my guts squeezed out.” Yujin knows that exaggerating won’t get her anywhere, but she tries to ease the discomfort by making a joke.
“You can get out whenever you want,” you tell her. “I see how wide the hole is and, if you really wanted to, you could escape right now.” Your tip pushes into Yujin’s pussy. “You don’t want to leave yet though, do you?”
Yujin moans as your cock is inserted into her. “I definitely don’t!” She feels her breedable hole get stretched by your length as it pushes inside. When the thrusting begins, Yujin looks down at the floor, focusing her efforts straight down so her neck doesn’t get any pain from focusing elsewhere.
You start to fuck Yujin like you mean it. The bucking of your hips is similar to that of a man who hasn’t seen his lover in weeks. There is desperation in your thrusts. It’s a desperation in the sense of wanting to fill this sexy girl to the brim with your seed.
She gets wetter when your thrusting pattern gets into place. Upon finding the most comfortable position for her hands, Yujin surrenders to you. She never imagined that being stuck would be so arousing to her, but something about the willing helplessness just turns her on like never before.
The sensation of using Yujin is a very arousing one. You never thought that a girl in a suit would be hiding such a good ass. You haven’t even had a look at her chest, but you figure that you’ll save that for next. Your cock is doing everything to make sure that she enjoys it so much that there will be a next time.
Yujin’s pussy juices drip onto the floor. Now that she’s soaking your rod with her wetness, she realizes just how enjoyable you really are. Yujin relaxes, letting you dictate the pace while she makes herself comfortable in her fuckable position.
You can’t see Yujin’s face but you know that she is having the time of her life. Based on how her pussy is constricting around your length to give you something to work for, you can tell that the stuck girl wants you to have as much fun as you want. “Enjoying yourself?” You ask Yujin.
She nods, knowing that you can’t see her. Yujin then gives a response that comes in the form of her shaking her ass. “I’m having a great time,” she moans. “FUCK!” Yujin screams when your cock hits the right spot. 
As you pound her tightness over and over, you feel her reacting well to the thrusts. Yujin’s body is going to make sure that you spill every last drop of your load into her. You smack her ass and watch the skin ripple. Her squeal can be heard through the hole in the wall, which pleases you even more.
Yujin realizes that she can’t contain herself. She knows that she’ll be cumming all over the place in a few minutes. She tells herself that she’s trying to hold on, but a quick change of pace removes that thought from her mind.
You grip Yujin’s hips and speed up. The new rhythm is easily found by you and you use it to your advantage. “You’re so wet,” you moan. As you keep laying pipe in Yujin, your cock throbs. The sensation triggers you in a positive way and you reach around her with one hand, snaking the fingers between the wall and the front side of her body to reach down and play with her clit.
All of the touching is unbearable. Yujin shudders in anticipation. Finding it hard to stay still, Yujin clenches her fists and presses them against the well. The girl’s sexual frustration of days and weeks past fades away with the simple motions of your rod going into her, coming out of her, and going back in again.
Yujin’s orgasm creeps ever closer. The impending spray of juices is the only thing on her mind. Unbothered by work, unbothered by being shoved in a wall, and unbothered by being fucked by a man who she met barely a handful of minutes ago, Yujin enjoys the steady usage of her vagina. She feels it coming and there is nothing that she can do to stop it. All she’s able to do is tell you.
“SHIT, I’M CUMMING!” Yujin screams. She closes her eyes as her body begins to shake. Yujin feels her strong orgasm as the pleasure hits her all at once. Her legs shake and she struggles to stand up, her juices splashing onto the wall and the floor. As she cums, she realizes that your cock is no longer in her.
Unsure if she pushed it out or if you pulled out without telling her, Yujin’s pussy releases even more of her nectar. The girl smacks the wall with her fists, denting the other side from the power of her hits. “GOD, IT FEELS AMAZING!”
You watch Yujin, enjoying her sexual spasms. Once the orgasm is done with, you reward her pussy with a few smacks from your cock. You then slap her folds with your hand, the fingers smacking the wetness and making it splatter even more. “That was more powerful than most of the girls who visit here.”
Yujin chuckles. “Tell me about it,” she jokes. The girl tries to catch her breath, but the raspiness will only last longer. Yujin is impaled by your cock once more while she recovers from her orgasm.
You know that yours will be coming soon as well. You always want to make the most out of a perfect opportunity, so you fuck her like your life depends on it. “That’s it,” you tell her. “Bring me over the edge.” You slap her ass and watch it ripple again as her body reacts to your touches and prodding.
She is leaking at this point. Her juices continue to flow, making her pussy like a Slip ‘N Slide. You continue to batter Yujin’s entrance, hammering with your cock to hit the depths. You then move your hips back and prepare for a change in thrusting.
Your cock is pushed back in, albeit with a little less depth than it just had. You don’t go balls deep, instead choosing to fuck her with almost your entire shaft but not quite the whole thing. A few more moments of this would surely send you skyrocketing into a state of bliss, but you figure that it’s worth it to fill Yujin.
You place both hands on her waist. As you grip her, you keep fucking Yujin and letting the warmth and wetness consume you. You can tell that her pussy is hungry and you don’t want to keep it waiting any longer.
Yujin feels you jackhammer her pussy. She braces for impact, looking back at the floor once more. Yujin’s preparations aren’t enough and she realizes this as you fuck her as hard and fast as possible. “Cum for me,” she begs, biting her lip while waiting for the feeling of a massive load inside of her.
With a groan, you unleash your load. Your hands leave Yujin’s waist as the seed spills into her and you thrust slowly but keeping the same depth. You fuck her while your hands stay off of her body.
Each thrust brings in more semen. You then grab the girl and pull her closer to you, letting the cum be shot deep inside. After a handful of hip thrusts, you leave your cock all the way in her to shoot the last rope. The final bit of your ejaculate comes out and the rod twitches, signaling a job well done.
Yujin feels you pull out of her. She mumbles something under her breath in Korean as your tip emerges from between her lower lips. The girl pants hard like she just had the most vigorous exercise of her life. “Can I get out?”
You think for a moment. “Maybe I should leave you here,” you tell Yujin. You laugh and grab something to clean your cock. After cleaning your rod with her asscheeks, you put the shaft away. Your pants are zipped and you turn away from her while attempting to find a good answer for Yujin’s question.
“You could always stay here for a day.” You smack Yujin’s ass and grab her bag. “I could text your boss to tell you that you’re taking a day off.” Your hands then put her bag back down. “Just get back to work. I do have a condition for you.”
Yujin takes herself out of the wall. “What is it?” she asks you. Once she’s standing up straight, she walks over to her bag. She lifts it and grabs her blazer. Yujin puts the blazer back on and buttons it before putting her bag back over her shoulder. “I am already gonna be like half an hour late,” she says.
You turn back to her and point to the door. “Your condition is actually very simple.” You lean down to whisper in Yujin’s ear. “I want you to do me a favor. The next time that you’re horny, you should come here and visit me. If I’m not here, there will always be an eager cock.”
She covers her mouth while giggling. “Sure thing,” Yujin says. She grabs your crotch and walks to the door. “I’d much rather have the cock I’m familiar with. Just stand outside the door and wait for me to come to you.” Yujin opens the door and breathes softly, attempting to compose herself while she’s still in the building.
“Just give me your phone.” When she hands you her phone, you text your number. “Save me in your contacts as whatever you wanna call me.” You hand her phone back to her after adding the number to her contacts. “Now, get a move on.” You walk Yujin to the exit and keep your arm around her shoulder. “I wouldn’t want you to miss the valuable opportunity to have a story to tell.”
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formula-ghost · 10 days ago
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Read Your Diary (FC43 x fem!reader)
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Chapter 5: Valentine (FINALE)
CHAPTER SUMMARY: The end of the 2024 F1 season brings regret and a newfound desire for reconciliation—but is your relationship with Franco beyond saving?
WORD COUNT: 13k
WARNINGS: Sadness. Angry Hispanic mother. Creepy men in bars (not Franco ofc). Drinking, drunk Franco is a media menace. Use of the word whore jokingly. Smut 18+ MINORS DNI. Hickeys, hair pulling. Dom Franco and sub reader, use of good girl, light choking, Oral (m receiving), p in v, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it!)
SERIES TAGLIST:  @scopeiguess @storyteller-le @xivilivix @htpssgavi @wierdflowerpower @justsisse  @uncreativetm  @ncrsbrg  @tillyt04 @amz824 @ellelabelle
A/N: My baby is now complete!! I did not plan for this to be the ending originally, but as I was writing it just kind of came about, and who am I to anger the writing Gods? Honestly, though, the beginning of this chapter destroyed me trying to find a way to redeem Franco. Fun fact, I very loosely based my depiction of Franco off of my real life ex, which explains why he is so horrible lmao (but unlike my real life ex, Franco has been redeemed!). I cannot express how grateful I am for everyone’s support throughout the writing of this story. More to come, but for now, enjoy!
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
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All this love, I'm so choked up, I can feel you in my blood
All this lust for just one touch, I'm so scared to give you up
Valentine, my decline is so much better with you
Valentine, my decline, I'm always running' to you
Valentine, Valentine
The block button did nothing to assuage Franco’s obsession with you. In fact, it only made it worse.
If he hadn’t blocked you, he would at least know that you weren’t contacting him. But since he pressed the button, there was now the ever present question of if you had reached out, and if the digital barrier he erected had led it to be lost forever. 
But why would you reach out after what he had done? 
Truthfully, it took everything in you to not call him. You had both said things you didn’t mean—at least, you prayed that Franco didn’t mean them—and you wanted nothing more than to just make up and act like it never happened. 
But the words kept echoing in your mind at night when you couldn’t sleep. You were a distraction.
All the years of supporting him, all the sacrifices you made—all for nothing. 
You couldn’t help that you loved him. And the Franco you knew and loved didn’t mean those things. He couldn’t. 
So you checked your phone’s international clock. It was still night where you were at home, but morning in Abu Dhabi, where he’d be completing his last F1 race tomorrow. 
There was still time. If you called and made up now, you could be there for the final race. You could be there at the end, just like you had been there at all of his beginnings.
So you swallowed your pride, tapped on his name in your contacts, and pressed call. But it didn’t even ring before it hung up. You knew what that meant. He had blocked you.
At first you wanted to puke. You wanted to burst down the stairs of your apartment and run into the street screaming. You wanted to throw a bottle of wine on the walls and cry in the wreckage.
But after a few hours of getting all the crying out, a strange peace fell over you.
It was just… over. That was that.
In the morning, however, the grief came back from a familiar notification. His mother.
You had been putting off her messages ever since your argument with Franco. You couldn’t bear to tell her what had happened. But she was worried about you, evident by her increasingly concerned messages.
You finally gathered the courage to type up a response.
Hi Mami, you began—she had forbidden you to call her by her name, instead telling you to call her Mom—I tried to talk to Franco like you asked. It didn’t go well, and we both said a lot of hurtful things. It ended on bad terms and he ended up canceling all my passes and flights, and I think he blocked me. I’m sorry, I tried to get through to him. Thank you for all the kindness you’ve shown me over the years <3
You read over what you’d typed. It was honest. You could have spared her more of the details, but why? Franco would have to live with the consequences of his actions. That wasn’t your problem.
It was only a few moments later that she responded. Oh dear, I am so sorry. I am ashamed of Franco—that is not the son I raised. I hope you know we all love you, and I wish you all the best.
You liked her message and left it at that. But she called you later that night.
She began, “YN, words can’t describe how sorry I am. What happened?”
“I… I don’t know,” you began, carefully choosing your words. You weren’t quite sure how much you wanted to tell her. “He was already upset when I got there. He kept accusing me of lecturing him, but I was just trying to tell him I was worried. He said… that I was a distraction.”
“I can’t believe him! You have never been a distraction. You’ve been there for him when we couldn’t, we’ve always been so grateful for you.” Her admission nearly brought tears to your eyes. “I just… Dios Mio.” 
The conversation was short, but vulnerable. 
“YN, can I ask you something?” 
“Of course.”
“You had feelings for him, didn’t you?” She asked it as if it were a statement, rather than a question.
You were silent for a beat before answering. “I did. I… I do.”
“Oh, dear, I wish I was there to give you a hug.” You could feel the care in her voice, a soothing comfort. “I want you to know you’re always welcome here, no matter what my idiot son says.”
You chuckled, thanking her for her kindness before ending the call. You were truly grateful for her invitation, but you couldn’t imagine being in Argentina without Franco. The call had felt more like a farewell. 
In Abu Dhabi, Franco was having his own farewells. It was bittersweet; he had worked so hard for so long to get here, but he couldn’t wait for it to be over. He was exhausted, mentally and physically. He just wanted to go home.
Home—the only place he felt like he had left. His Madrid apartment would feel empty without your laughter echoing in the halls. But back in Argentina, the people still loved him, and he could come back to a warm, home-cooked meal.
It was the only thing on his mind as he was forced to retire the car early, ending his last F1 race of 2024 with a DNF. But he didn’t care about that at all when he stepped off his flight from Abu Dhabi to Buenos Aires. 
Unfortunately for him, what was waiting for him at home was not peace and a warm meal. It was a very angry Hispanic mother. 
He came through the door, jet lagged, struggling with his luggage. She didn’t help him. 
When his father and sister ran up to give him a hug and help him in, she didn’t move an inch. She just stayed in the kitchen, silently chopping vegetables with her recently sharpened knife.
After putting away his bags into his room, Franco made his way to the kitchen to greet his mother, who didn’t even look up from her cutting board.
“Hi Mami, I’m home,” he said tentatively.
“Welcome home,” she replied, no warmth in her voice.
“Aren’t you excited to see me?” he joked. He knew he was dodging landmines. He knew she had every right to be angry—he had gotten caught up in everything after Singapore, and after his controversy, he had been dodging her calls and texts, other than to arrange plans to come home for the holidays. Others may have gotten over their frustration, or chose to ignore it for the sake of the holidays. She was not that kind of woman. 
“Oh, I’m thrilled,” she said, her voice flat. “Dinner is almost ready. Can you set the table for five, please?”
“Five? There’s only 4 of us.”
“Well, isn’t YN going to join us?” She already knew the answer. She just wanted to see him squirm as he answered it. He had nowhere to run anymore. 
“Uh… no. Not this year.”
“And why would that be?”
“She’s, uh, busy.” His mother didn’t respond. He had to fill the awkward silence. “And she’s probably mad at me…”
She paused, holding the knife in an iron grip. She lifted it from the cutting board to point towards him. “And why would that be, Franco?”
“Mami…”
“Do not lie to me.” Her voice was cold as ice.
“Mami, it’s complicated. I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to enjoy the holidays and forget about this whole season.”
“I’m sure you do,” she concluded, not an ounce of sympathy in her voice. Franco sighed, getting down the plates to set the table for his family. But he stopped in his tracks when he turned and felt a slipper to the back of his head. 
“Ah! What was that for?” The blow didn’t hurt anything but his ego.
“You know what you did,” his mother seethed. “You can’t run from this forever. Now get out of my kitchen.”
Franco obeyed, muttering under his breath. 
“What was that?” his mother asked.
“Nothing!” he chirped, setting the plates on the table.
During dinner, it wasn’t any better. His father and sister, oblivious to his mother’s rage, chatted as if nothing had happened. They had been angry at his…questionable dating decisions, yes, but they clearly had let it go in the meantime and decided to just enjoy the time together as a family. His mother, however, had not. 
And whenever anyone asked about it, she said she was fine. But she was clearly not fine. 
As Franco took the dishes into the kitchen to help clean up after dinner, he sighed, knowing that his mother was right. He couldn’t go the entire holiday ignoring it—she would make sure of that.
He couldn’t sleep that night. The bed of his childhood home was warm and comforting, but he couldn’t relax under the weight of it all.
Maybe some fresh air would do him good. That’s what he reasoned when he slid open the back door and inhaled the cool night air. He sat cross legged on the back terrace, just taking in the sounds of the serene night. 
That was, until he heard another person closing the door behind him. His mother. 
“Not now, Mami,” he said, not even turning to look at her.
“I’m not going to chastise you.” She handed him a mug of something warm. For a moment they just sat next to each other, sipping their drinks in silence. 
Franco began to speak unprompted. “YN has every right to be angry at me. I…ruined everything. I was so cruel to her.”
His mother just gave him a reassuring hum.
He continued, “She had feelings for me. I know I should have known it sooner, but I was in denial. But I had feelings for her too. And I got distracted. But it wasn’t her fault. I was so worried about my future that I ignored how she had always been there in my past.” 
The mug in his hands trembled and his voice wavered. “She was always there for me. Every race, every win, every failure. She was always there.”
His mother reached for him, lovingly stroking his back as he confessed.
“She probably hates me now. I don’t blame her.” A tear fell into his mug. He turned to look at his mother, her expression far more sympathetic than it was at dinner. “Can I fix it?”
“I don’t know. But first of all, you owe her an apology.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t. Because if you did, you would have already done it.” He was silent. “It’s possible that she will forgive you. Or, she may not. You have to accept that.”
“I don’t know what I’d do without her.”
“Franco,” she began, “you did this. You have to suffer through the consequences of your actions. And if you are lucky enough that she forgives you and wants you back in your life, it’ll be a hell of a lot of work to regain her trust.” 
He nodded. “I’ll do it. I’d do anything.”
“Then why haven’t you?”
He paused. “I’m scared. Scared that it really is beyond saving.”
“The longer you wait, the more likely that is to be true.” 
This time, he actually knew what he needed to do.
Neither of you knew the parallels between you two; each of you pining for the other’s love, wanting nothing more than just to speak to the other. And when he unblocked you and called, it was like the stars aligned.
You didn’t answer. 
He didn’t panic at first. It was close to the holidays, in the middle of the day in your timezone. Maybe you were with your family. 
But as one missed call turned to two, and days of no contact turned to weeks, Franco began to know the bitter taste of his own medicine.
You had seen him call. And yes, you were with your family at the time. You told yourself that was the main reason why you hadn’t answered. As if seeing his contact on your phone didn’t shatter your heart into a million pieces. 
But later that night, when you were finally alone, you couldn’t bring yourself to call him back. He hadn’t left any voicemail or text, just his name and a missed call icon. 
What would you even say to him? He knew you were angry. And you knew you couldn’t just act as if nothing happened.
So despite your desperation to speak to him again, you just let his calls keep coming and coming over the weeks. 
A dark part of you enjoyed having his attention. You waited to see his icon pop up, just to let the call go to voicemail. It made you feel wanted again. 
And you were wanted. When he tried to sleep at night, he wanted you. When he talked with his manager about future plans for the next season—back down to F2—he wanted you. 
Both of you knew it was a delicate balance. He couldn’t keep calling forever. At some point you��d have to answer, or he’d have to stop. But you loved the dark thrill of pushing it. 
And this continued for weeks.
The calls lessened as the F2 season began. Franco was back at work. You had finally let go of the need to watch his races.
But there was another contact you hadn’t ignored: Lily. 
She called you out of the blue one day. “YN! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever.”
The last time you saw her—it must have been Austin—felt like years ago.  
“Yeah, it’s been a while,” you replied. 
“Do you… wanna talk about how you’ve been?” It was late January now. You had spent the weeks just passing time, lost, but somehow also at peace with all of it.
“Um… not if you don’t want to ruin your day,” you joked. Humor was a good coping mechanism, you had learned. You’d grown tired of explaining to people why Franco was no longer in your life. You had once been so intertwined, and now, nothing. You were thankful that she didn’t press further. 
“Well, we should go out,” she suggested. “I know a great new club in Madrid, and Rebecca and I will be there the weekend before Valentine’s Day.”
Valentine’s Day. The bane of your fucking existence. Worst holiday ever.
But you had spent Christmas in a daze, and New Years alone. You didn’t know if you could do another holiday like that, so acutely aware of Franco’s absence. So you agreed. 
But Lily’s phone call wasn’t as out of the blue as you had thought.
One thing about Franco was that he was determined. If he wanted something, he was going to get it. So yes, he called and called and called and let all his calls be missed.
He couldn’t just text you or leave a voicemail. What he needed to say was too important. He needed to see you.  
So he called up the only other woman he knew besides you and his own mother: Lily. 
He pitched the idea simply. He just needed her to arrange something where you and him would meet. Lily was skeptical. 
“Franco, you know when a woman isn’t answering your calls, it’s usually because she doesn’t want to talk to you, right?” 
“I know,” he signed. “I know she’s pissed at me. She has every right to be. I just want to apologize to her.”
“Then why not, like, send her a letter or something? Trying to organize an event where she’s forced to see you is kind of…creepy.”
Deep down, he knew Lily was right. “It’s not like that, though. I just need to see her, say it to her face. If she gets angry and never wants to see me again, I’ll respect her wishes. But I love her too much to not try.”
Lily was a hopeless romantic if nothing else. And Franco was charismatic and too smooth to deny with his one-liners. 
So she agreed. Besides, she knew you needed a girls night.
And you realized it too when Rebecca and Lily came over to your apartment to get ready a few weeks later. 
You vented to them as they helped you apply your eyeliner and zip up your dress—yes, THAT dress—about how hard the past few weeks had been.
“And then,” you explained, as Rebecca dusted a brush along your cheekbones, “he told me that I didn’t need to be there! As if he wasn’t the one who begged me to go!”
Rebecca made a sour expression. “Girl,” she said, “Good riddance to him.”
When you looked at yourself in the mirror, you nearly gasped. You looked fucking amazing. 
Yes, you were wearing that dress that always reminded you of him—his favorite color, bought while on vacation to see his family. But if he couldn’t see your beauty, someone else would. And right now, that someone was Lily, as she snapped photos of you all before you left for the club and posted them on her story.
As you entered the club, you felt the bass in your bones. Yes, this was exactly what you needed. 
You drank. You danced. You felt the eyes of tipsy men on you.. And for a while, all your troubles faded away.
You approached the bar for your second drink of the night. A man walked next to you, presumably to order his own drink. You recognized him as someone you’d danced with earlier.
“You look great tonight,” he said, eyeing you up and down. His tone was too sleazy for your liking.
“Thanks,” you said, hoping a short response would end the exchange so you could get your drink and make your way back to Lily and Rebecca, who were waiting for you in a booth. 
“D’you always dance like that?”
“Like what?” 
He smirked. “You’re cute when you play dumb like that.”
You genuinely had no idea what the man was going on about. “Sorry, I need to get back to my friends.”
You turned to leave, but the man grabbed your arm. “Don’t you need to get your drink? Stay a minute.”
You grimaced, but a surge of anxiety kept you frozen to your spot. You turned your glaze to the floor, silently beginning for an out.
“So, what’s your name?”
“Uh…” You were unable to answer. You feigned ignorance. “Sorry, it’s loud in here, I can’t hear you.”
“Oh, it doesn’t matter. I don’t need to know your name to take you home tonight.”
“What?” You wanted to puke.
The man started to reach his arm out toward your waist. You stepped back and bumped into someone. You cursed your own awkwardness. When you turned to apologize, you saw a familiar face.
Franco. Fuck. You felt your stomach drop. 
“You know this guy?” The man behind you asked.
“She does,” Franco answered for you. You were grateful—you were unable to speak, choked with anxiety. 
“You let your girl act like that?” 
“Fuck off, mate.”
The man took the hint and shrugged, taking his drink and disappearing into the crowd. 
Your eyes were still glued to the floor. “Thank you,” you said. 
“Don’t thank me,” he said, “it’s the least I could do.”
The bartender handed you your drink. Part of you just wanted to go back to Lily and Rebecca and act like all of this never happened. But by the look of Franco’s face, one of grave seriousness, you knew it wouldn’t be that easy.
But the other part of you was thankful. Thankful that Franco had saved you from that creep, yes, but also thankful that the stars had aligned to bring you and your best friend back together. What were the odds?
Wait. Maybe the stars hadn’t aligned.
“Franco, what are you doing here?” 
Now it was him who looked to the floor in embarrassment. “Lily told me you were here. I asked her to help me talk to you.”
“So you… arranged to find me in a club, because I wasn’t answering your calls?” 
Franco may be Latino, but he sure had the audacity of a white man. 
“When you put it like that, it sounds bad…”
You rolled your eyes and walked away. He followed you through the crowd. 
“YN, wait! Why won't you answer my calls?”
“Because I have nothing to say to you.” That wasn’t true. You actually had a lot to say, you were just too afraid to say it.
“Okay, I get it. I fucked up. But will you just listen to me? Please?” 
You just kept walking. 
“YN! Please!” You had nearly reached the booths, and he was still following you. You just kept ignoring him. 
“YN—” You slammed down your drink on the table, startling Lily and Rebecca. When Franco came into view behind you, they exchanged knowing glances. 
You turned around to face him. “Are you really begging?” you whispered in a hushed tone. 
“Yes,” he said, his voice equally low. 
Lily got out of the booth, standing next to you. “What’s the harm in just hearing him out?” she said, low enough that he wouldn’t be able to hear her over the thumping bass. 
You swallowed. The harm? You would fall for him again. And he would hurt you again and again. You’d lose him again. A never ending cycle of pain. 
But his pleading expression in front of you was too much to bear. You couldn’t say no to the man you still loved.
“Let’s get some air, hm?” he said, and you nodded, silently following him back to the crowd. He led you to a staircase where a bouncer nodded and silently let the both of you pass. 
The staircase led to the roof of the club, with a beautiful view of the city. The space was clearly set up for patrons to enjoy, but there wasn’t a soul there besides you and Franco. 
The view took your breath away. You had seen so much beauty when you had traveled the world with Franco for his races, but this was home, and he was warm next to you as he snaked his arm around your waist, silently taking in the sight next to you.
You relaxed into the touch. For a moment, you just let everything fade away into the peaceful scene. 
But as you smelled Franco’s familiar cologne and relished the feeling of his touch, you couldn’t help the anxiety that rose in your throat. It felt like it was choking you. You moved forward, forcing his arm away, and leaned against the railing on the edge of the rooftop.
“Say what you have to say,” you said plainly. 
“I want to apologize.” His opening sentence was simple, yet powerful. “YN, I was horrible to you. I lied and I betrayed your trust. I blamed all my problems on you, when you were the only one who was ever there for me.”
You watched the cars on the road below, like ants in a colony.
He continued, “And you were right, about everything.” 
The silence in the air was thick.
Your voice was shaking when you began. “Franco, you made me feel like I was insane. You… you accused me of using you. You called me a distraction. You said I was disgusting. You uninvited me from the last races and you blocked me.”
“You tried to call?”
“Of course I did.” The tears in your eyes threatened to mess up your mascara that Rebecca had so carefully applied. “I tried to call you before Abu Dhabi. I wanted to forgive you and be there for your last race.”
“Shit, YN… I’m so fucking sorry.”
“I don’t know if I can forgive you now.”
It was him, now, who had eyes full of tears. “YN, I…I love you. I can’t lose you. I know I hurt you, and it kills me. But I miss my best friend. My friend who skipped prom to come to a race. My friend who helped me dry my clothes after she found me trying to use an oven to do it. My friend who is the only one that really gets my sense of humor.”
You finally broke down at his confession. He reached out to hold you.
“Don’t cry,” he whispered. “I’m here. It’s gonna be okay.”
He let you cry it out, before pulling back and looking at you. He gently used the pad of his thumb to wipe away your tears and fix your smeared makeup.
“I can’t ask for everything to go back to normal,” he said, looking you in the eyes. His eyes were teary, too. “I know I can’t. I did things that are beyond awful. But I promise you that if you can find it in your heart to forgive me, I’ll do whatever I can to regain your trust. You’re too important to me.”
All you could do was bury yourself in his chest. He wasn’t expecting the sudden gesture, but he slotted his arms around you like they always belonged there. He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. You don’t know how long you stood there, warm in his embrace. You could have stayed there for years. 
You were brought out of the perfect scene by the sound of a notification on your phone. You broke the hug after a moment to check it. A text from Lily: everything okay?
You chuckled. “I think Lily is worried about us.”
“Well,” he asked, “is everything okay?”
He wanted an answer. You didn’t know if you could say it. 
But is this not what your entire journey had been leading up to? You had begun writing in your journal to communicate what you feel. And now, you had no choice. 
You were strong. You had changed.
“I want to forgive you,” you said. “But it won’t be easy. It’ll take time.”
“I have all the time in the world.”
“And I can’t promise that I won’t be scared or insecure.”
“Whatever you need, I’ll do. I’ll listen, I’ll show you—”
“Franco.” You cut him off. “I know. I love you.”
You couldn’t name the expression on his face. Like relief. Or love.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked. 
You were scared of what door that would open, of how much you truly wanted him to. So you didn’t speak. You just reached up to caress his cheek and tell him with your actions.
Your lips met his, and all the sorrow melted away. You could feel the vibrations of the club under your feet, the gentle pumping of blood through his veins, faster now that he could touch you. He pulled you in by the waist, and you brought your other hand to the back of his neck, making the space between you infinitesimally small. 
But you pulled away before he could deepen the kiss. You couldn’t rush it, no matter how badly you wanted it. 
When you opened your eyes, he had that expression you had grown to yearn for; it gave away how badly he needed more of you. You could feel a blush rise to your cheeks at the thought of his wanting.
“We should go back down before Lily gets too worried,” you said. He smiled and nodded, but as his expression of desire faded away, you saw the familiar signs of anxiety. He didn’t know how far to push, how comfortable to act. 
You grabbed his hand. “And then, you should dance with me.”
His tentative smile grew more relaxed. “Of course.”
Turns out, there’s nothing an honest conversation and a little alcohol couldn’t fix. And in the aftermath of the former, you definitely indulged in the latter—maybe a little too much. 
You went downstairs to retrieve your drink that Lily and Rebecca had so kindly watched for you. It was a little watered down from the ice melting, but it would do the trick. 
Rebecca helped you fix your makeup as Lily glared at Franco for making you cry. He knew he’d have work to do to earn back their trust, too, but he was more than willing. 
So when you were ready, he wasted no time taking you out to the dancefloor to give you the night of your life. 
The only problem was that Franco was not a frequent club goer, and therefore unable to handle his liquor. And you all had a lot to drink that night. 
You finally cut him off when he threatened to get on the table and start stripping. 
“Oh, Lord, Franco, I’m cutting you off, you’ve had too much to drink,” you slurred. You were tipsy yourself, in no state to talk, but at least you were committed to staying clothed for the night. 
“What are you gonna do? Fuck me about it?” he joked, sticking his tongue out playfully. 
You don’t know if the blush on your face was from the drinks or his taunting. But God, even when he was wasted, he looked so good. As the night had progressed, he had become more disheveled, his shirt buttons coming undone to expose his toned chest and a sheen of sweat from all the dancing. He leaned over, running a hand along your cheek. “Bet you would want that, wouldn’t you?” 
“Okay, time to get you home!” you told him. Lily and Rebecca had left a bit earlier, satisfied that their mission was accomplished. 
You got up and tried to corral your drunk friend out of the club. He didn't want to cooperate, though. 
“No, YN, I don’t want to go home! I missed you, dance with me!” He reached out to grab your waist, his hands wandering up and down your body. 
“Franco, you’re drunk,” you said, moving out of his grip. “I’m calling an Uber and getting you home.”
It’s not like his touch was unwelcome. But you were in public and he was inebriated, unable to consent to what he was actually doing. You knew it was time to go. 
You finally dragged him outside as you waited for the Uber on the corner. You hoped the cool night air would sober him up a bit.
“Have I told you that you look fucking gorgeous tonight?” he slurred. You ignored him as you watched the little car icon drive closer and closer. 
“I always loved that dress on you,” he continued, “but it’d look better off of you.”
“Our Uber is here!” you said through your blush. 
But even in the Uber, he was relentless. 
“I missed youuuuu” he cooed in your ear.
“I missed you too, but could you not be a whore for 5 minutes?” you laughed. You hoped the humor would distract him. He lowered his voice to a husky whisper.
“But YNNNNN, I want you so fucking badly. Every part of you, even the parts that you’re ashamed of—fuck, especially those parts. I want to know the version of you that you’re scared to be. I want you to use me like a toy to get what you want. And when I read what you wrote I was… fuck, I couldn’t stop myself. Every day I’d read it and touch myself and wish it was you. God, I just need to fuck you so badly—“ he practically moaned in your ear as his hand again reached to your waist.
You grabbed him by the wrist, stopping him in his tracks. His doe eyes looked up at you, deceptively innocent, hiding behind them the true depths of his lust.
You moved his hand away and let go. He was silent and still.
“Franco, you are drunk. I am going to get you home and you are going to get some rest.”
“I know you’re mad at me. You should be, I’m a fucking idiot,” he slurred. “But you can take it out on me, on my body—“
“Franco! We are in public,” you hissed through gritted teeth.
“Is being horny a crime? You can arrest me, put me in restraints—” 
The Uber pulled up in front of your apartment and you wasted no time getting Franco out of the car and up the stairs. You made sure to tip the driver well. 
Franco didn’t even let up as he collapsed on your bed, dizzy from stumbling up the stairs and into your apartment. He grabbed you, pulling you back to the bed, burying his face in your hair.
“You smell so good,” he muttered. You wrestled free from his grip, throwing a pillow back at him playfully. 
“I am not going to fuck you when you’re this drunk. Get changed and go to sleep.” 
He pouted, but complied, undressing agonizingly slowly behind you. You had turned away to give him privacy, but your mind wandered as you heard the shuffling of his clothes. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he apologized, still behind you.
“You didn’t,” you said, and it was true; you loved that he wanted you, just…not in that setting. “Just sleep it off. I’ll take the couch.”
“No, come here,” he said, patting the side of the bed. You turned and jumped, seeing that instead of changing into the pair of old pajamas that he had left at your place many months ago that you had laid out for him, he had just stripped down to his underwear.
“Absolutely not,” you said, your face turning a bright red. “Put some clothes on.”
“But it’s hot in here!”
“Then I’ll take the couch.”
“YN just snuggle with me—”
You cut him off by closing the bedroom door. 
A few hours later, you were convinced that you had the world’s most uncomfortable couch. You couldn’t sleep a bit. 
You filled the hours by scrolling on your phone. The F1 gossip pages were calling your name. 
The reappearance of YN! The former friend (and suspected ex girlfriend) of Williams reserve driver Franco Colapinto was featured in a post from a nightclub in Madrid with current Williams wags Lily Muni He and Rebecca Donaldson. Several attendees also caught videos of her dancing with a mysterious man that is definitely not Franco. YN hasn’t been publicly seen since the 2024 Brazilian Grand Prix, which fans assume has something to do with Franco’s fling with a controversial Argentine actress.
Above the caption was a slideshow: the pictures of you, Lily, and Rebecca on the first slide, and the next being a video of you dancing with the creep. You cringed at the memory.
The top comment made you chuckle: I can’t believe Franco fumbled his 2025 seat AND a baddie. 
You scrolled to the next post. 
Former F1 driver for Williams, Franco Colapinto, spotted in a nightclub in Madrid getting very handsy with best friend YN! 
The two have not been seen together since the Brazilian Grand Prix in 2024. At the time, fans speculated that the two were dating, but sources close to the driver reported that a falling out regarding Franco’s dating controversies during the season led him to cancel her VIP pass for the last triple header.
But luckily for Franco x YN shippers, the pair seem to be quite comfortable with each other again. Do you think they’ll make it official soon? Comment your opinion below!
Fuck. Someone had gotten a video of you trying to get Franco out of the club, and without context, it looked bad.
You were pushing him off of you, yes, but not because you didn’t want his touch. You were just afraid of this exact scenario happening. You prayed a silent apology for his manager. 
Your scrolling was interrupted by the sound of Franco waking up and stumbling into your kitchen for a glass of water. Even with only a few hours of rest, he had slept off the drunkenness, but was left with a horrific hangover. 
You probably should have just pretended to be asleep until he went back to bed. But, against your better judgement, you got up to meet him at your kitchen counter.
He still hadn’t put any clothes on. Typical.
“You alive there?” you joked.
He downed his entire glass of water. “Barely,” he grimaced. “Worth it, though.”
You gave him a half smile. “You’re probably gonna have a million notifications from your manager. I tried my best.” You handed him your phone to watch the video.
“Jesus, that’s how I looked? I’m sorry.”
“I didn’t mind. But it’s a good thing that you probably don’t remember what you said.”
“Oh no, I remember.” You blushed. “And I don’t regret a word. I meant everything I said.”
“Franco, when we were in the Uber, you said I could use your body as a toy.” You cringed as you repeated his words back to him.
“I know. Offer still stands.”
“Franco…”
“YN, be honest with me. If I was sober, and we were alone, what would you have done?”
You swallowed. He was sober. You were alone.
He saw the thoughts cross your eyes. He broke the space between you walking to the other side of the counter. He pulled you in by the waist until all that separated you was the thin fabric of your pajamas and his underwear.
The breath had been taken from you. “Talk to me,” he said. You couldn’t. The anxiety choked you. “YN, I’m tired of pretending like I don’t want you.”
“Don’t do this to me, Franco,” you pleaded. “I want this but … we shouldn’t.” You looked away. You couldn’t handle the intensity of his gaze
“Why not?”
“Because… we just made up. I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You won’t. I’m here to stay. Trust me. If I promise that everything will be okay, will you trust me?”
You paused. “… I can’t. I don’t trust you. Not yet, at least.”
You had to be honest with him, but it broke your heart to say those words. You didn't know yet if he was genuine, or if his fling with the actress hadn't worked out and he was using you as a placeholder. The thought made you want to puke. 
He loosened his grip on you. Your words felt like a thousand knives going through his chest, but he knew he was going to have to face the very real consequences of his actions. 
“I understand,” he said. “Just let me hold you. I know my words don’t mean much anymore. But I promise I’ll do everything in my power to earn back your trust, and I mean it.”
He buried his face in your hair. “Come back to bed with me.” You knew the request was innocent, so you allowed it, snuggling up into his warm chest and falling asleep as the sun began to peak in the sky outside. “I’m letting go of you. Never again,” he murmured. Both of you knew that it wasn't about the sex, or about how right you felt curled up next to him. It was something deeper, more intimate, than the bare skin that he now innocently wrapped his arm around. 
When you woke up, for a moment, you thought you had dreamed the whole thing. But the soothing sound of Franco’s soft snoring proved you wrong. 
Over breakfast, you laid out boundaries. You both needed to take things slowly, build up the trust that had been lost.
But when you woke up a week later on Valentine’s Day to a bouquet of pink roses on your nightstand, you couldn’t help but blush darker than the petals, remembering the reference from your diary. 
Franco had planned to take you out, and of course, you wore his favorite dress. 
The night was perfect—a little too perfect. In the back of your mind, you couldn’t help remembering the salacious ending to that diary entry, replaying the fantasy over and over in your mind. But as he took you home for the night, Franco was ever the gentleman, perfectly keeping his hands to himself.
The longer you looked at him, the more you wanted him to touch you. 
You had only made it to your apartment for a few seconds when the sight of Franco taking off his suit jacket was too much to bear. You grabbed him by the collar, pulling him into a frantic kiss. 
He wasn’t complaining, of course.
He took your actions as a sign, gently pushing you into the wall behind you until you were pinned. His lips never left yours, instead deepening the connection, tongues exploring each other’s mouths.
When you did come up for air, there was a faint hint of your lipstick on him. He chuckled. “Mi amor, what was that?” he teased, stroking your cheek and he looked down on you. He rested his arm above your head, leaning his body into yours. You could feel both of your chests breathing heavily with a growing desire.
“I wanted you.”
“I thought you wanted to wait?” He was right. You didn’t want to rush into physical things so early. Franco had been nothing but respectful and apologetic all week, but still, only those few days had passed. 
“...Yeah,” you said. You were frustrated at him. For being so fucking attractive. For making you want him so badly.
“It’s alright, hermosa,” he teased, “I’m sorry that I’m so irresistible.” Only a week since you all had made up, and he was already back to reading your thoughts.
“Oh, hush.” 
In the following weeks, Franco’s return to racing made resisting him a lot easier. He had asked you to come to a few races, but you had declined. The memories of his time in F1 were too fresh, the wounds not quite sealed. Besides, you didn’t want to be seen in public with him just yet. You hadn’t exactly made your relationship official—though neither of you were talking to other people—and you were anxious for the public eye to be on you again. 
That was, until Franco got a very exciting phone call. 
Carlos Sainz had gotten in a minor biking accident—nothing major, just a sprained wrist, but enough that he needed to take a week off to heal—so Franco would be back in his car.
When he asked you to return to the F1 paddock with him, this time, you couldn’t refuse. 
So that’s how you found yourself in a hotel room with your best friend (and now sort-of boyfriend). 
Before bed on Wednesday night, after a long day of meetings, he wanted nothing more than to come back to the hotel and lay in your arms. And that’s exactly what he did.
You absentmindedly ran your fingers through his hair. “You nervous for tomorrow?” you asked.
“No,” he answered truthfully, “not one bit.”
“Really?”
“Yes, I mean, I have nothing to lose. Nothing could be worse than the end of last season.”
“Franco, don’t say that.”
“It’s true, though.” He chuckled. “I can’t fuck up any worse than I already did. For a while there, I lost everything.”
You stopped playing with his hair to crane your neck down and kiss the top of his head. “Well, I’m not going anywhere,” you said. 
He sat up, looking you dead in the eyes, his expression as serious as it could get.
“I love you.”
You were taken aback for a moment. You had both said it back in February when you confessed, but it was different now; more real, vulnerable. 
“I love you too.”
“I want you to be mine.” His gaze traced the line from your lips to your eyes, finally meeting you where you couldn’t look away.
“I already am.”
“Then I’m yours, too. And I want the world to know it.”
You finally broke the stare, looking down at the comforter. “I’m nervous about what people will say.”
“YN, who gives a fuck what they say? They’re not here. They don’t know us.” You knew, deep down, that he was right, but that did nothing to temper your anxiety.
Franco playfully grabbed you and pulled you to sit on his lap. You let out a yelp that dissolved into laughter as you saw the smile on his face. 
“I don’t care what anyone says. You’re my girl, yeah?” 
You smiled too. “Yeah.”
“And I'm yours. You wanna prove it?” he teased, pulling down the collar of his shirt, exposing his neck. “Show them all what’s yours, hm?”
“Franco,” you said, blushing, “everyone will see.”
“That’s the point, mi amor.”
“Your manager will kill me if you show up to media day covered in hickeys.”
“I’ll cover them up.” You knew better. He absolutely would not cover them up. He’d wear them like a badge of honor.
But Franco’s refusal to be media trained was one of the many qualities you loved about him.
“Come on, you know you want to,” he teased. He was right. Right now you wanted nothing more than to cover him in love bites, claiming him as yours. 
But you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he could read you so well.
“Oh, hush,” you said, grabbing his chin to bring him into another drawn out kiss. 
You trailed the kiss down to his neck, finally giving in to his request. Yes, he was yours. And now the world would see it.
You relentlessly nipped at the rough skin, enjoying the soft but labored breaths that came from Franco. You kissed his earlobes, his jaw, his collarbones, until you found that perfect spot on his neck. He gasped when your teeth met his skin, softly moaning when you gently sunk your teeth in and sucked to leave a bright red mark.
You pulled away, and his expression was one of deep wanting. Sitting on his lap, you could feel him hardening under you, desperate for whatever he could get of you. 
You rested your hands on the hem of his shirt. “This is getting in my way,” you complained.
He wasted no time in taking it off. 
He slid his hands under your shirt too, drawing you closer to him, burying his face in your neck and smothering it with kisses. You gently grinded down on him, giving both of you the friction you so desperately needed.
But you didn’t want to be the focus of the night. You took back control, running your hands through his hair and roughly pulling it, forcing his head back.
His doe eyes on you were full of lust. He paused for a moment.
“Sorry, was that too much?” you whispered, embarrassment beginning to flush your face bright pink.
“Oh no, I..” he panted, “I liked that a lot.”
You smiled, and went right back to your attack on his skin. He ran his hands up and down your back underneath your shirt, teasing with the clasp of your bra.
You felt his phone buzz in his pocket. You both ignored it. 
“YN…” he exhaled, a breathy moan. You pulled back, seeing the red flush on his face. You could feel his excitement beneath you.
“Can I take this off?” he asked, his hands tugging at your top.
You weren’t quite sure what to answer. You figured that you’d sit down and talk before your first time. You all hadn’t gone beyond heavy kissing—Franco had been respectful of your desire to wait. But it had been months now, and he’d gone above and beyond to prove that you could trust him.
His phone buzzed again. And again, you both ignored it.
“You don’t have to if you’re nervous,” he said. “We only go as far as you want.”
You nodded, silently giving him permission. He leaned in to softly press one last kiss to your lips before moving to pull off your top.
Only for his phone to ring, ruining the moment.
Your shirt remained on as he fumbled to get his phone out of his pocket and turn it off. But the caller was James Vowels.
You both saw the contact info and knew that the mood had been ruined.
“I’m sorry, amor, I have to take this—” he apologized as you climbed off of his lap and he answered the call.
As he spoke, you took a deep breath, trying to process what had just happened, and what was about to happen before you had been cockblocked by the William’s team principal. 
After only a minute he hung up the call, continuing to apologize. “I’m so sorry, they need me right now.” His voice was full of urgency. 
“It’s okay, go,” you assured him, your tone genuine. He placed a chaste kiss on your cheek before grabbing a Williams quarter zip from the floor to cover up the darkening marks on his neck. 
He raced down to the hotel conference room, hoping that his…little problem would not be visible in what had sounded like a very important meeting. The tone in James’ voice had been one of immediacy, and Franco had no idea what to expect. 
And when he finally made it to the room, he was met with faces both new and familiar: James, his manager, and…Aston Martin employees?
He made a confused face and he gave the group a cursory nod and sat down in the last remaining seat, next to his manager. 
“Oh, Franco, you’re here,” James said, exhaling. “We have some exciting news.”
His manager had a smile that beamed across the room. “We’ve been talking to these lovely folks from Aston Martin,” she said, gesturing to the other side of the table. “It hasn’t been officially announced yet, but soon they’ll be putting out a statement. Fernando Alonso is retiring.”
Franco gave them a polite smile, unsure of what that information had to do with him.
“So, Aston Martin would like to offer you the seat for 2026.”
Franco felt the air leave his lungs. “I…uh…yes,” he said, too stunned to really speak. “Yes, I want it. Where do I sign?”
“Well, not so fast,” his manager responded. “We have a lot to discuss regarding the new contract, brand deals, buying you out of your Williams contract…”
But Franco was on cloud nine. His manager’s words faded into the background. He felt like heaven had opened up, and the absolute novel of a contract that now sat on the table in front of him was dropped directly there by God Himself. He could even hear the chorus of angels singing. 
His presence there was merely a formality, it seemed, as the Aston Martin officials and his manager talked back and forth on minute details for what felt like hours. Nothing would be set in stone today, of course, but she wasn’t lying when she had said that a mountain of work laid ahead of them. 
As the time droned on, the officials filtered out one by one, leaving only Franco and his manager alone in the conference room.
“I’m so proud of you, kid,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “You really earned this.”
“Thank you,” he replied, genuine. 
“Look, go back to your room and get some rest. You’ve got a big day tomorrow. But this is strictly confidential, you hear me? You can’t tell a single soul. Not even your own mother. Not even YN.”
“I hear you.”
“And, tomorrow, maybe cover that up better, yeah?” she said, gesturing to her neck. But Franco felt no shame.
“Well, can’t help that you all called at a very inconvenient time.”
His manager grimaced. “I didn’t need to know that. Get some rest,” she laughed, shaking her head. Even she was too happy to truly scold him. 
When he finally returned to the room hours later, you had already fallen asleep waiting for him. He quietly undressed and got in bed, gently brushing your hair out of your face to gaze on your sleeping form.
You were perfect. He had gotten the seat and the girl; what else could a man ask for?
The morning was chaotic. You had both overslept. 
“I’m sorry about last night, amor,” Franco said as you applied concealer to his neck. “It was urgent, and they kept me there for hours.”
“What was it about?” You gently dabbed a makeup sponge across the reddened skin.
“I can’t say. Strictly confidential. But it’s amazing, you’ll see.” He beamed, but you made a face at him. Smiling flexed his neck muscles and made it harder to cover up the evidence of your intimacy.
At the paddock, it was chaos as usual. It was the return of the Franco Colapinto—now triumphant, having had a solid season in F2 so far—and this time, he walked in with you on his arm. 
The only problem was that Franco kept tugging at the neckline of his quarter zip, and the friction was causing the hastily applied makeup from the morning to smudge, revealing the marks beneath.
Thankfully, no reporters said anything. But the fans online certainly were.
Steamy! Franco Colapinto arrives today at the paddock with suspected girlfriend YN in tow, and the driver appears to have several red marks on his neck. YN and Franco have not confirmed any relationship other than being friends, and this is the first race she has attended since Brazil 2024.
COMMENT: Franco showing up to the paddock absolutely covered in hickeys was not on my 2025 bingo card
COMMENT: Okay but that is so on brand for him. This man simply does not give a fuck and I love it.
You chuckled to yourself as you read the comment. But you tensed up as you felt Franco’s manager walk up next to you. You were already anticipating the earful she’d give you.
“He’s a natural at this, ain’t he?” she asked, more a statement than a question. In the distance, Franco was making a reporter laugh.
“Yeah,” you said. Franco’s manager always made you nervous, for some reason. 
“I’m so proud of him.”
“Me too.” You paused, unsure of whether to broach the subject. “You’re…unusually chipper today.”
His manager laughed. “Yeah, I guess so. But even I have to relax sometimes. I mean, he’s doing a great job.”
“I heard there was some exciting news. Franco wouldn’t tell me what, though.”
His manager’s casual smile now stretched from ear to ear. “Oh yeah, big stuff. But top secret.”
“I can’t wait to hear.”
Media day went smooth as butter. Practice 1 and 2 went perfect. With the arrival of Carlos Sainz, the Williams car had vastly improved, and Franco drove like an expert.
Such was evident by his P8 finish in qualifying the next day; his highest ever qualifying in F1. 
Since your night had been interrupted the day before, your wanting of him hadn’t lessened; in fact, it had grown stronger ever since you realized how you truly were ready. But quali day had taken it out of him, and you knew he needed to rest before the Grand Prix tomorrow.
And on that next day, as you watched him climb in the car from the Williams garage, you hoped that he’d put that rest to good use. You said a prayer for his safety even more than his success.
You held your breath through each lap, silently cheering him on through the knots of nervousness in your stomach. But it seems like your prayer was working; he was gaining places, P8 to P5 only a fourth of the way into the race. 
He boxed halfway, and your eyes traced the lines of his car and helmet as he pulled into eyeshot of you and sped away in only a few seconds. He wasn’t looking at you, of course, but it didn’t matter. Your heart felt like it would burst with love.
At first, you didn’t even notice the cameras capturing your sentimental expression. That was, until you glanced away from his car in the distance and looked toward the screen. You were shocked to see your own reflection, captioned with your job title and ‘Franco Colapinto’s partner.’
He really was yours, now. You smiled at the camera and waved before it cut away to the action. Franco just kept gaining. He had dropped a few places after boxing, but made up for it in no time. P4.
You could hear the commentators through your headphones.
“And really, Franco Colapinto is stunning us all here. As we all remember, he had a rather disappointing end to the 2024 F1 season, but he seems to have come back with a vengeance. A podium is a real possibility for him today.”
Your smile couldn’t be contained. He was going to do this. You knew it. 
With only five laps left, he overtook for P3. The garage cheered. You cheered with them. But it wasn’t over yet. It was a tense, wheel to wheel battle. Your heart was beating out of your chest.
He was able to inch just slightly enough ahead to cinch the spot as he crossed the checkered flag.
The William’s garage erupted in applause.
You ran to meet him as he pulled up the car, catching him when he jumped into the arms of the crowd of William’s employees. He nearly ripped off his helmet and balaclava, grabbed your jaw and brought you into a rough kiss.
You broke with a smile. “I love you, I’m so proud of you!” you said, unsure if he could even hear you in the chaos.
“Te amo, YN,” he said, tears of happiness clouding the edges of his vision. He continued speaking in Spanish, but you couldn’t make out what he was saying over the crowd. He had to break the embrace to go to the podium.
As he stood up there, you beamed with pride below. He really had made it.  
After the podium, you hid away in his driver’s room, waiting for all his media obligations to be over so you could go back to the hotel together. To pass the time, you scrolled. The internet was losing their mind over your hard launch.
And even better, people had already uploaded videos of you and Franco exchanging words of love at the barriers. His words were difficult to make out, but a few dedicated lip readers had attempted to decipher the message. But there was no internet consensus just yet.
You made a mental note to ask Franco what he had said later, but for now, you were sure he was exhausted.  
Your assumption was proven correct as he walked into his driver’s room, rolling his shoulders and sighing. But upon seeing you, his face lit up. You greeted him with more hugs and words of praise.
As you both stood there, holding each other, it was like the world around you melted away. 
“YN, can I tell you something?” he muttered into your hair, hand snaked around your upper back.
“Anything,” you answered, your face pressed into his chest.
“I’m not supposed to tell anyone. You can’t let my manager know that I told you.”
You hummed in response, but he broke the hug to look at you, indicating the seriousness of his statement to come.
“I got a contract for 2026.”
Your eyes went as wide as dinner plates. You were speechless.
“Franco… that’s, oh my God, that’s amazing!” You thought you were going to burst with love for him.
“Nothing is set in stone yet,” he explained, “but she’s been negotiating the contract, and they’ll probably announce it in a few weeks.”
You reached your fingers up to run them through his curls. “You’re incredible.” He blushed.
“I think we should go back to the hotel and celebrate, hm?” he teased.
“You don’t want to go out?”
“We can if you want,” he mused, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek, “but I think the world has seen enough of us today, yeah?”
So you celebrated in your hotel room alone. The bottle of champagne that decorated the desk of the room was left untouched—but you sure as hell weren’t. 
The podium had emboldened him. He explored the curves of your body over your clothes with reckless abandon. You wordlessly helped him remove his shirt, trailing your eyes of the muscles that were sure to be sore in a few hours. You traced the marks you had left the other day, now beginning to fade.
“My turn,” he joked, bringing his lips to your neck to give you your fair share of love bites. He brought one hand to gently hold your neck, while the other inched further and further up your shirt, teasing the edge of your bra. You felt like you could drown in his touch. You closed your eyes and fell deep into bliss. 
“YN,” he whispered, “are you sure you want to do this? Are we ready?”
You swallowed, nervous. “Yes.”
But he could sense your anxiety, and was hesitant to continue. He pulled back, raking his eyes up and down your form. You couldn’t help your nervousness. But having read your darkest fantasies, he knew what you really wanted. 
“You know, the reason I read your diary is because I knew there was something about you that you try so desperately to hide,” he said, his voice soft and smooth as honey. “I wanted to know whatever part of you that you try to hide away from the rest of the world,” he let his hands trace down the length of your arm, and leaned in closer to whisper in your ear, “and that part of you is that you’re a needy girl who’s desperate to get fucked.” 
A shiver ran down your spine at the vulgarity of his words, a side to him you’d never seen.
He brought his hand from your arm to your neck, gently tracing the curve towards your chin. “And there’s nothing wrong with that, of course.” 
His voice was soft and tender, but when his hand grabbed your chin and forced you to face him, his expression was anything but. “You just needed a man who can fuck you like the desperate girl you are.” Your eyes widened at his words, and you could feel the warmth rush to your cheeks in a rosy blush. 
His eyes met yours. “Just say the word, mi amor. Do you trust me? Will you let me fuck you like you want… no, like you need to be fucked so badly? I can do it. I’m not afraid. I want to give you everything you’ve ever dreamed of…” His voice trailed off as he turned his head and closed the gap between you, placing his lips right below your ear. The kiss was soft and made you release your breath. “Say it, YN. Tell me you want this as bad as I do.” 
“You really want this?” you said, your voice almost trembling with anticipation.
His lips near your ear were going to be the death of you. “Of course. Can’t you feel how badly I do?” he whispered. You could feel him beneath you, hardening with every second that went past. You imagined the feeling of grinding your hips down on his length, recalling the memories of only a few days before. 
Oh God, how badly you wanted to. You wanted to give him everything. You could feel his soft breath on your neck, his hands now resting on your waist, tentatively waiting for your permission to resume roaming the curves of your body. But your breath was caught in your throat.
“Franco…” The soft exhalation of his name was all you can muster. “What, amor?” he replied. You swallowed and closed your eyes, knowing your next word would let the floodgates of your desire open.
“Please.”
His lips met your neck in a kiss that was tentative at first, like you were something fragile that could be broken by his touch. But the feeling of his soft lips finally meeting your skin caused you to draw in a breath. 
“You want to take the lead, or should I?” he asked. 
“You,” you answered simply, too distracted by the absolutely heavenly feeling of his velvet lips on your neck.
He hummed in response. “If you ever want to stop, just tell me, okay?”
“I will.”
He placed one final kiss on your neck and helped you take off your top. You felt his eyes undressing you more than his hands.
He wordlessly turned you around to sit on his lap, your back against his chest. His hands traced lower and lower down your stomach until they met the lacy waistband of your shorts.
“Are you going to be a good girl and take these off for me?” he purred. 
“Why would I do that, when I have you to do it for me?” You could tease him right back. He let out a dark laugh, kissing your neck from behind. 
“Little brat…” he cooed, but you took no offense. He slid your shorts off, and you were left with only your bra and panties. He ran his hands up and down your now exposed stomach. His touch was warm and inviting as it traced down to the now wet fabric of your panties. 
He began slowly, just tracing the skin through the fabric, inching lower and lower. He could already feel how wet you were. “Doesn’t take that much to get you going, hm? So wet just from my words.”
You blushed in embarrassment at his teasing. “Shut up…”
“Oh, amor,” he kissed your cheek, your face now turning away from him. “It’s okay. I know how badly you needed this.”
You let out a breathy moan as he began to outline your pussy with the feather-light touch of his fingers. He tentatively dipped his fingers under the fabric, spreading them around your growing wetness as he circled your clit.
Slowly and carefully, he put a finger inside you curling it up to hit that sweet spot. With his other hand, he roughly groped at your chest. He unclasped your bra with one hand, tossing it across the room, and let his free hand paw at your chest and circle your nipple.
“See, bébé, what a reward you get when you use your words and tell me what you want?”
“Yes,” you moaned, breathy and full of desire.
“And what do you want?” he asked.
“I want… you.” The words stuck in your throat, your mind too preoccupied with the pleasure of his thumb swirling softly around your clit and the two fingers now pumping in and out of you. You were vulnerable, at his mercy, but you trusted him. 
“You want me to…?”
“I want you to… to fuck me.”
“Good girls get what they want. You’ve been so good for me, haven’t you? Can you do one more thing for me?” He smirked, removing his hand from your sensitive bundle of nerves. You already missed the friction. 
“Yes, anything,” you promised. 
“Get on your knees for me.”
You obeyed. The sight of you on your knees below him, gazing at home longingly with your big doe eyes, made his cock twitch. But he saw something beyond obedience in your face.
He knelt down next to you. “Are you still nervous?” he asked.
You laughed. “I’m always nervous.” 
He brushed your hair out of your face, removing all the barriers between the two of you. “Do you want to stop?”
“No. I’m just… not as experienced as you. What if I'm not good?”
“You’ve already been so good for me,” he said, cradling your face in his hands. “I’ll guide you.”
You watched him with your innocent eyes as he stood up, unbuckled his belt, and took off his pants. You dug your knees into the pillow beneath you as he shed his last remaining layer of clothing.
He had no right to tease you for being so wet, when his own arousal coated him. His cock was dripping precum, so hard that it nearly hurt.
“Open your mouth,” he instructed, and again, you obeyed. He gently led you to him as you pressed your tongue to the bottom of his length and licked up to the sensitive head.
He moaned. “I don’t think you need any help, do you?” You just hummed as your tongue traced the lines of his veins up and down his shaft, before you took as much of him as you could, closing your mouth to trap him in the warmth.
He grabbed your hair to gently guide you to a good rhythm. You looked at him in admiration, but his head was thrown back, eyes closed in bliss. 
He moved your head faster, and you gagged a bit at his cock filling your mouth. You dug your hands into his thighs. Franco cursed in Spanish under his breath.
Soon, he pulled you away. You were embarrassed. Did you do something wrong?
“God, you feel too good. I can’t finish yet. I want to take my time with you.” He led you back to the bed, finally taking time to gaze at your form laid bare before him.
For a moment, he was silent, just taking in the sight of you. “You’re beautiful, YN.”
You blushed. “You don’t need to flatter me, you already got in my pants,” you joked.
“It’s not flattery,” he replied as he crossed the room to grab a condom from his bag and put it on, “it’s true.”
He returned to the bed, climbing on top of you. “You’re perfect. Every part of you.”
The vulnerable praise made you uncomfortable. “Franco…” 
“Touch me, amor.” You obeyed, bringing your hands to his broad shoulder, bracing for what you knew would come next.
“You may not think you’re beautiful, but I do. And I’ll make love to you as many times as I need to until you believe it.”
You blushed and brought your hands to your face. You were not immune to his Argentine charm. He gently pulled your hands away, kissing your wrists, so he could see your face. 
As he guided himself to your entrance, he slowly and carefully slid inside you with a deep groan. His eyes rolled back into his head at the heavenly feeling of your pussy, and your breath hitched.
He stopped to give you a moment to adjust to his length. You felt filled and warm; all his. 
For a moment he just stayed there, still, looking down at the sight of you stuffed with his cock, ready to be ravished.
“You alright?” he asked, softly tracing circles along your hips with his hands. You nodded through the sweet burn of being stretched on him.
But he could feel the tension in you. “Just relax, YN,” he cooed at you. “I’m going to take good care of you, hm?” 
He leaned down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead and you whined. He whispered something in Spanish, too fast and incoherent for you to understand, but with a soft enough tone to recognize the love behind the gesture.
His thrusts at first were slow and shallow, giving you time to adjust. As he gently fucked you, he leaned down to softly whisper sweet nothings into your ears. You felt safe in his arms. 
But soon the softness faded away into lust. You both wanted it, and you showing him by how you sang a chorus of noises the faster he fucked you. His rough thrusts brought forth sinful noises from the both of you, lost in your pleasure. “It’s okay, YN. I know how badly you needed this,” he cooed, his own breath strained. “And I needed it too. I needed to feel you wrapped around me. You feel so fucking good, so tight and wet.”
His words weren’t lost on you. “Fuck, Franco…” you begged between his thrusts. You dug your nails into his back as he continued his unrelenting pace.
“Talk to me, pretty girl,” he said, slowing down for a moment. “You okay? Is it good?”
“So good,” you responded. “Don’t stop.”
He wordlessly continued, pumping his full length into you with reckless abandon. You were sure that your nails in his back would draw blood with how roughly you clung to him.
All you could do was take it, all of him, and let the moans and gasps fall from your lips with every touch.
As he sped up, his tone changed, becoming something rougher. He was clearly emboldened by the noises that left your mouth with every movement.
“I love hearing your pretty little noises. I want you to scream for me. Fucking scream my name,” he commanded. You didn’t have the strength in you, too distracted by how good he felt, burying his cock in you. 
“F- Franco,” you gasped. He pulled back so you could see him and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look him directly in the eyes.
“What’s that, love? Did you say something, or am I fucking you too good that you can’t even speak properly?”
“Franco, I—” you were cut off by your own whine, “I’m gonna cum.”
“Oh, pretty girl,” he cooed at you, “let go. Cum for me.”
You wanted nothing more than to obey him, and you came closer to the edge hearing his command. 
“I want you to look at me when I make you cum,” he instructed. You nodded at him.
But he slowed his pace down to a torturously slow speed, savoring how every inch of him went in and out of your drenched pussy. 
Even with his switch, you could feel that knot in your stomach tightening, threatening to explode as you held his intense gaze. Any self consciousness you would have had was cast aside by your desperate need to obey him.
And when he moved his hand from your hips down to your sensitive clit and began to rub, you couldn’t help but follow his command, climaxing in his arms.
He held you as you let the waves of pleasure come over you, not letting up his soft assault on your bundle of nerves. Even as you began to buck your hips involuntarily from the sensitive touch, he just whispered, “It’s okay, mi amor. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
He softly shushed your whimpers of pleasure, gently running his free hand up and down your curves. “Are you okay to keep going? Because you know I’m not done with you yet.”
You didn’t know if you could handle any more, but you sure as hell weren’t going to tell him to stop. You’d waited too long for this, wanted it too badly, to go back now.
You nodded, so he kept going, hitting every spot inside you just right, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. He was careful not to overwhelm you, taking an even and steady pace, but neither of you could help so heavenly it felt to have him inside of you.
Franco chased his own release, sitting up so he could see your whole body as he fucked you. He held onto your hips hard enough to leave marks, but you’d gladly wear them with pride. 
It didn’t take long for him to pull out and rip off the condom, pumping his hand up and down his length. 
“YN, I’m so fucking close,” he moaned. “Where—”
You didn’t answer him, just leaning down to take him in your mouth. He grabbed the back of your head, roughly pushing you closer to him.
“Don’t stop, you’re gonna make me cum, don’t—” 
He couldn’t finish his sentence before he climaxed, filling your mouth and letting out a low and low groan.
You pulled away from him and swallowed the stickiness that coated your mouth. 
He collapsed on the bed next to you. “Fuck, YN.” You laid down next to him. “That was so good.” His chest was still heaving with the intensity of his orgasm. 
But as he turned to you, the lust left him, growing into something softer as he brushed your hair out of your face. You were both covered in a thin sheen of sweat.
“You okay?” he asked.
You hummed and nodded, closing your eyes and leaning into him, taking in the smell of sex and his cologne. You couldn’t get close enough to him.
He kissed the top of your head. “I’ve got you,” he assured. You were too overwhelmed to say anything. He just held you. 
Eventually, you both got up to take a shower before you both got ready for bed. Snuggled close to him, you felt the quiet warmth of his presence protecting you, and it lulled you to sleep quicker than anything else ever could.
When you woke up in the middle of the night, you checked your phone. The internet sleuths had finally deciphered what Franco had said to you—a heartachingly sweet confession of love. He had said you were his life, his everything. He couldn’t have done it without you. 
Within the thin crack of light from blinds and the streetlights outside, you could see Franco’s backpack, with your diary still in it. If you wanted to, you could have stolen it back. But instead, you left it be, snuggling deeper into the bed to get close to the man you loved who slept peacefully beside you. 
It was true that more work needed to be done until you all could fully communicate with no difficulties—no language barriers, no journals, just heartfelt words. But you knew you both could do it. You loved each other too much to not. 
So you smiled as you felt his arm sleepily wrap around you and pull you close. You were safe. You were home. 
314 notes · View notes
hyunebunx · 3 months ago
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⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 ⏖ ’ when you aren't dating but aren't just friends either (maknae line)
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⁺ 𖹭 . genre: fluff, a lot more angst and suggestive themes!!
⁺ 𖹭 . warnings: toxic relationship dynamics (not all of them)
⁺ 𖹭 . a/n: hyung line here!! hope you enjoyy <33 pls let me know your thoughts in the comments/reblogs! <3
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𝜗୧ jisung 𝜗୧
Another jealous one. Honestly, in his case, you’re both jealous and it’s justified.
You guys go back and forth a lot. One minute you want him, the next you don’t and that really messes with Jisung’s head on a daily basis.
The line between friendship and something more is blurred here since you’ve done numerous things that have crossed it multiple times but unfortunately, neither of you knows how to handle that.
You: did you get home safe?
As expected, his reply came only a minute later since he was always glued to his phone.
Ji <3: yeah bin dropped me off
You: that’s good
You: did you have fun at the party? with that girl that was all over you?
You couldn’t help but bite down on your bottom lip as you hit send, suddenly overtaken by this indescribable feeling of anxiety. You could picture the reaction that simple question would get out of Jisung, the furrow of his eyebrows and the displeasure on his face clear as day in your mind.
Ji <3: y/n what the fuck
The three dots that indicated he was typing kept appearing and disappearing, almost like he couldn’t decide on a response, as taken aback as you thought he’d be. That went on for a few moments more before stopping altogether and next thing you knew, your phone lit up with an upcoming call. Taking a deep breath, you mentally prepared yourself for another argument before sliding your finger on the screen to answer.
“What nonsense is your pretty little mouth sprouting right now, Y/n?” Came his slightly groggy voice, visibly exhausted after the long night he had had partying. No ‘hello’, no ‘baby’, even if he seemed calmer than you expected, Jisung was obviously aggravated by your behavior.
Moving the phone from one ear to the other, you tried to ease some of your anxiety by sitting down on the bed. “Nonsense? Jisung, you do know I received pictures of you and this random girl from three of my friends, right?”
Jisung let out a strained laugh, one that conveyed all of his anger. “What is this now? Did you stoop so low as to put your friends to spy on me when you’re not here?”
“Are you hearing yourself?” your voice got louder as all of your muscles grew tense. “I just asked you a fucking question, nobody was spying on you!”
You heard him exhale loudly on the other end, presumably rolling his eyes. “So, I’m not allowed to speak to people of the opposite gender now?”
A sigh escaped you at that, rolling your shoulders before letting yourself fall back against the many pillows, frowning.
“You know that’s not what I asked, Ji – “
“Oh, I know.” He cut you off, the argument giving him more energy. “You were just wondering if we fucked.”
With wide eyes, you sat up trying to defend yourself but his velvety voice interrupted once again.
“Don’t worry, you’re the only one I fuck at parties. The only one I fuck, in general.” Even if these words were meant to reassure you, the tone of his voice did anything but that. “Any more questions or jealousy fueled craziness?”
You scoffed, your nerves slowly morphing into anger that threatened to bubble to the surface any second. The audacity to call you crazy and be bothered by your behavior when he usually lost his goddamn mind if a guy as much as breathed in your direction, was wild. This thing you and Jisung had wasn’t healthy, you could see it, and everyone in a 100-mile radius could see it. But the feelings that blossomed along the way felt too real, and intense for either of you to just call it quits, no matter how toxic your current dynamic was. Most of the time, you brought out the worst in each other, but you also felt like your best couldn’t even exist without him.
With another sigh, the man tried to redeem himself once he realized he might’ve taken it a bit too far, voice barely above a whisper as he softened up.
“I’ve been chasing after you to make you my girlfriend for months now, baby. Do you really believe I’d do something like that to us?”
𝜗୧ felix 𝜗୧
No matter your relationship status, Felix treats you like you’re the most precious person in the world. No surprises here.
He’s so gentle and loving, the sight of you never fails to put a smile on his face. Wants to be near you all the time, always invading your personal space and clinging to you any chance he gets.
Hugs, lingering touches and not so innocent kisses. There’s a very strong longing for the other here.
Laughter could be heard as you and Felix were playfighting on the couch, skilled fingers tickling every spot you knew would make the other lose their mind. One of the perks of being such good friends was having easy access to each other’s weaknesses, making the tickle war fair on both fronts. Though you prided yourself on having many aces under your sleeve, Felix countered them easily each and every time.
“Just – “ Your sentence was cut off by another fit of laughter as Felix continued his attack, not even giving you the chance to speak. “Admit you cheated! You’re a cheater Lee Felix! I would have won that race fair and square if you wouldn’t have bombed me right at the finish line.”
Felix only laughed in response, not admitting anything as he continued to tickle your sides. His innocent mask always fooled you into forgetting that to his core, he was a notorious cheater who loved tricking others.
“Or maybe you’re just a sore loser.” He grinned, gently nudging your side to have you fall on the couch. Briefly stopping his tickle assault, he then moved to hover over you, smile turning into a smug, a little too arrogant, smirk.
The air shifted as he got even closer, one hand moving upwards your body until it reached your face. Your eyes met and his smirk dropped, not once looking away while he stopped at your jaw, his thumb sticking out to softly run over your lower lip. The gesture was so intimate and familiar as he never missed an opportunity to be affectionate, yet it still caused your heart to flutter and breath hitch in your throat momentarily. He always looked at you with eyes full of love and adoration and each time, you were willing to give him everything he desired and more.
Felix hummed, his already deep voice dropping even lower while he continued to maintain eye contact. “Who knew you took mario kart so seriously?”
You couldn’t take it anymore. His touch burned in the most pleasant way, leaving behind blooming flowers as strange as that sounded. That’s how being with Felix felt too. You felt love, passion, lust, comfort, all wrapped up in the pretty package that was him. Being with Felix felt like home.
That’s why, you took advantage of him getting lost in what he was doing to you before suddenly setting your hands on his shoulders in hopes of overpowering him, pushing his body back so you could be the one on top. With each knee on either side, you straddled him before leaning down and connecting your lips in a passionate kiss. If Felix was surprised by the turn of events, he didn’t show it, hands finding your hips and resting there while gently caressing the skin.
It felt like fireworks going off on New Year’s when you kissed him, lips fitting together like they were made for each other. The plushness of his lips along with the taste of his tongue, of him – they all drove you insane.
Lee Felix might have been a filthy cheater when it came to any type of game, willing to deceive everyone just to win. But when it came to your relationship – whatever that was – you knew he would never be anything other than truthful.
𝜗୧ seungmin 𝜗୧
He’s the sweetest when with you. No joke, the others usually complain about how you get special treatment from him because Seugmin is never that nice to them.
Has moments when he gets so gentle and lovey-dovey but as soon as someone points it out, he playfully pushes you away with a bashful smile, cheeks reddening by the second.
Can be a bit inconsiderate of your feelings sometimes.
The room was silent save for the tv that was quietly running in the background, the action movie long forgotten by Seungmin as you captivated all of his attention. His eyes were glued to your sleeping form in his lap, the pillow under your head along with the blanket on top ensuring you were most comfortable. One of his hands would sometimes reach out to fix the blanket while the other would soothe you back to sleep by caressing your head, leaning down to whisper sweet nothings in your ear if some of the guys got too loud. It was very peaceful for him, a serenity he didn’t usually get in his everyday life that only came along with you.
You were special to him, his feelings for you obvious to everyone around except for the person that mattered most. Because of that, he was usually reluctant to act on them but that was starting to get harder and harder each day, especially when you did things like right now. You were the picture of peace, away in dreamland while Seungmin was the complete opposite, a storm picking up inside of his mind.
He was confused. His gaze was filled with nothing but fondness as he once again looked down at you, happiness bubbling up inside of him and threatening to overflow to the surface any second. Yet as he kept staring, he could feel little knives puncturing his poor heart at the reminder that you were nothing more than friends, what you had purely platonic.
“Guys, look at Seungmin being a lovesick puppy.”
Jeongin’s voice came from his right and he immediately turned to the youngest with a glare, one that didn’t seem to do anything as his smile only grew in response. Shaking his head, Seungmin rolled his eyes before his gaze fell back to you, his hand now stroking your soft hair.
“Shh, Innie, don’t disturb our couple.” Hyunjin chimed in with a smirk of his own, quick reflexes helping him dodge the pillow Seungmin threw right at his face. Chan only chuckled under his breath from his place on the other sofa while Minho didn’t even glance up from his phone, absorbed in what was presumably an argument with his partner.
“Will you guys be quiet? Y/n’s sleeping.” His voice remained low yet the hostility in it was clear as day as he turned to look at his two troublemaker friends, glaring. He wasn’t in the mood for any teasing it seemed. “And stop calling us a couple. We aren’t together and we’ll never be so knock it off and let me enjoy the movie.”
The men stopped after that, not wanting to push their luck as they knew how scary Seungmin got when angry. But unknowing to them, you heard the whole thing, your heart falling all the way down to your stomach at his painful, careless words.
What was supposed to be a relaxing afternoon, ended up with you getting your heart broken by none other than Kim Seungmin himself, the guy you’ve been in love with since what felt like two lifetimes ago.
𝜗୧ jeongin 𝜗୧
Did someone say childhood friends to lovers? Because I did.
You’re very comfortable around each other, knowing all of the other’s secrets and defining life events so when your relationship started to shift, you were none the wiser.
Has always loved you in some way, just isn’t aware of the fact that he’s actually in love with you.
“And you won’t believe what she said next!”
He chuckled, fox eyes following your every move as you continued to pace around in his room. “What did she say?”
Turning to him, you made a face before starting to mock one of your girlfriends. “Well Y/n, maybe if you got a boyfriend, you would understand why we can’t always bend over backwards for you!”
Jeongin gasped, hands moving up to his mouth pretending to be flabbergasted by what you just said, completely entertained by your antics. Being best friends for as long as you two have been, there was nothing unusual with you coming over to catch him up on the latest drama that was happening in your friend group. It was more or less a weekly tradition at this point.
“Can you believe that? She was blaming me for the fact that she was a shitty friend!”
He nodded, agreeing with your every word. “And not only that, but she was also boyfriend shaming you!”
“Exactly!” you exclaimed, throwing your hands up in frustration. “Do you see the type of people I have to deal with now that you’re not here?”
Those last words made Jeongin’s shoulders fall as it all dawned on him; you were right – he was barely here nowadays, his busy schedule keeping him away from you and all he’s known for the majority of his life. He missed it, going out and goofing around with you and his school friends, having no real responsibilities other than doing some random homework and picking the place you’d hang out at after classes.
He missed you. So much that it physically hurts sometimes.
“Jeongin?”
At the sound of your sweet voice calling his name, he snapped out of it, eyes focusing on your form in front of him once again. Without a word, he then beckoned you closer with a finger and once you were in reach, he pulled you into his arms, a laugh escaping him as you gasped in surprise. Jeongin didn’t usually initiate physical contact so being pulled into an embrace like that, so out of the blue was really confusing for you. Nevertheless, your arms went around his neck while you melted into his hold, his own going around your waist innocently as you were now standing in between his legs.
“How about we make this girl eat her words, hm?” he smiled, looking up at you from his seat on the bed, chin resting just above your stomach.
Raising an eyebrow, your hands moved to comb through his dark locks. “How?”
It seemed that’s what he was waiting for as his smile turned into a smirk, eyes full of mischief at the plan he was silently cooking up.
“Let me be your boyfriend, your trophy man if you will.” Seeing the way your eyes widened and mouth dropped open, he squeezed your sides, shushing you. “I’m not done. I can pretend to be your boyfriend when she’s around, showering you with affection until she turns green with envy and realizes what a shitty friend she’s been. Or, until you drop her.”
Your mouth closed and he could see you contemplate his words, your lips pursed into a small pout. You looked kind of adorable from up close, not that he’d ever admit it.
With a nod, you agreed, your smile returning and lighting up your face for the first time in the hour you’ve been at his house.
“Alright, let’s do this!”
And then, next thing you knew, Jeongin stood up and suddenly, his lips were on yours.
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tagging: @captainchrisstan
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penkura · 7 months ago
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Father's Day Moments
Note: Sorry this so late today, I've been busy with my own stuff this weekend, but I got it done! :) This is simply Father's Day moments with a small surprise in each of them, I had a blast writing these. 💚 I know again that this day can be hard for some, so if this isn't something you're okay with reading, please feel free to skip it and read something makes you happy today. 💚💚
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Ace has rarely ever thought about Father’s Day, considering his own issues with his father and all that growing up. Even after joining the Whitebeard Pirates he never thought too much of the day, only when Marco or someone else brought it that it was about that time of year. Once he has own his children, the sweet little girls you both share, he still doesn’t think about the day as being that important, it feels more for the kids then it does for the dad in his mind. You do most of the caring for your daughters anyway, even though Ace helps as much as he can when he’s not busy, you two are a team, you should use the day to rest together, right?
That’s why, after you get Rogue and Ann to give Ace the little handmade cards you helped them with (he’s not crying, you’re seeing things), Ace tries to pass the girls off to Marco and Izo for the day, having asked the two the day before if they could take the girls off the ship for the afternoon so you two could relax together. They both had agreed, you find it very odd they’re so willing to take the two when they’ve jokingly called your daughters little hell fires, Rogue and Ann are happy to go with them onto the island you’re docked at for a couple hours.
You’re still skeptical even when all Ace does is pull you into bed for a nap (just a nap, he swears when you ask if he’s got other motives). “Ace, what’s this all about? You know it’s—”
“Father’s Day, yeah, I know,” Ace buries his face in your hair and you can’t help but nearly melt in his arms, he’s so warm all the time, it feels so nice just to lay with him, “But you deserve some time off too~”
The way he nuzzles into your neck makes you giggle, wanting to say something about how you already had your day until he speaks up again.
“I wanna have another baby with you~”
That’s not a surprise to you, he’s said it several times since Ann turned four and you first brought it up, just wondering what his opinion would be and Ace promising he’d get back to you when he had decided. He finally did just about a week or two ago, right after her birthday, telling you that one more would be perfect, your family would be complete whether boy or girl.
“Yeah, that sounds good, Ace.”
It’s a few moments of silence before you hear him snoring, but it still makes you laugh softly before running your fingers through his hair while he sleeps.
“Happy Father’s Day, you dork.”
~~
Father’s Day had left a bad taste in Law’s mouth for a long time, having lost his own father and then Corazon, it first made him resent the day before it became just another day that meant time was passing by. No one to celebrate meant he could ignore it, until you came along and blessed him with your son and daughter, the two angels he watches play doctor almost every day with their stuffed animals. Eight-year-old Rosi and two-year-old Cora, both his spitting image and the brightest part of his days, apart from you obviously.
The day is quiet while your children play, Law trying to take a nap for once when he feels someone come over and put something on his chest, cracking one eye open to see Cora has her toy stethoscope while Rosi holds her up so she can reach, and it makes him smile. They’re both just darling, even if Rosi is reaching the point where he’ll say how embarrassing such statements are.
“What’s up? I need a checkup from Dr. Cora?”
She giggles and nods, while Rosi huffs a little. Cora has gotten so big, its hard for him to hold her for very long. He asks if she’s almost done, when she nods again and takes her toy off Law’s chest.
“All done!” Law ruffles her hair a bit and thanks her, as Rosi tells her they should go check her stuffed bunny now. The two hurry back to their toys, as Law tries again to nap before he feels like someone else is watching him, opening his eyes to see you leaned over giving him a smile.
“Have you gotten to rest at all?”
“No, but it’s fine,” shaking his head a bit, Law notices you seem to want to say something, and gives you a look, “You okay?”
“Mm,” nodding you look over to your children, watching them briefly as they wrap bandages around the bunny’s ears, “Just…what would you say to one more?”
Law raises an eyebrow and sees how fidgety you are by asking, wondering if you’ve already gotten an answer and you’re just double checking with him that it would be okay, or if you just suddenly have baby fever again. Either way, he doesn’t think it would be a bad thing. It would be welcomed.
“I think that would be fine…”
The way you light up and grin makes Law start to smile too, even when you begin to ramble a bit about how you haven’t felt well, which he knew already, and how you had gone and taken a pregnancy test, and well, looks like your ‘one more’ is coming sooner than expected based on the pink plus sign when you show him the test. Rosi and Cora were both planned, and while this one wasn’t, there’s an excitement in his heart that Law can’t deny at the thought of having another child with you.
Its not such a bad Father’s Day gift honestly.
~~
To be honest, Penguin never thought he’d be this lucky. He never thought he’d be lucky enough to find you, to get married and have two daughters with you, and now have the joy of bringing home your newborn son on Father’s Day, two days old and baby Sage has joined his sisters in your home, the eight-year-old and four-year-old girls both squealing over how tiny he is.
Penguin beams with pride while he watches them, Wren has gotten over her jealousy of having little siblings ever since Ivy started to get older and could play with her. When you told them the baby was a boy, they were both ecstatic to get a baby brother, and loved coming to the hospital to see and meet him.
As the two try to push each other out of the way to see him while Penguin holds Sage, you put your hands on their heads and quiet them down.
“Hey now, that’s enough. We don’t want to scare him. Don’t you two something for daddy anyway?”
Wren gasps loudly before nodding and grabbing Ivy’s hand, yelling for Penguin to wait there while they ran off to their room. He gives you a confused look while you sit beside him and start to coo at Sage.
“Babe, what’d you do?”
“I didn’t do anything. It was all them.”
When they finally come back, both are holding drawings they’d made the other day with you watching them (mostly since they were using markers). Wren had drawn your whole family as penguins while Ivy had mostly done stick figure drawings of your now family of five, both making sure to include the newest addition. They both tell Penguin ‘happy Father’s Day’ as they hand the pictures over, and he has to fight to not to cry while he hugs them close, kissing them both on the cheek multiple times and making them giggle.
“You’re both the best daughters I could’ve ever asked for!”
~~
Sanji doesn’t take a day off, what are you talking about? The man is a chef, a professional one at that, and with your twins tenth birthday just two days away, he’s busy making their birthday cakes and all the snacks and treats their friends are going to want at the party too. Even though he knows it’s Father’s Day, you know it too, your twins and second daughter have already given him the cards they’d made, he did cry and didn’t try to hide it, and he went right back to work. It might be a day for him to relax, but he doesn’t for more than those few minutes earlier in the day. He’d taken your three-month-old son Elie after you’d finished nursing him, strapping him against his chest in a baby carrier and getting to work while your baby slept against him so you could rest instead.
Honestly, it kind of made you feel bad because you’d already gotten your day, and Sanji was using his to prepare for your twins birthday party and watch your youngest son, your older three children were busying themselves with cleaning their rooms. You’ve already finished the laundry for the day and go to the kitchen to see Sanji isn’t up and cooking at the moment, instead sitting at the table and playing with your small son’s hands while talking to him while Elie looks up at him.
“I feel really blessed to have all of you, Elie. I really hope that you and your siblings know that as you grow up…” Sanji sighs a bit and places a soft kiss on Elie’s head, “I never want you to feel like I did.”
“They won’t,” you surprise Sanji by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and kissing his cheek, “You’re a wonderful father and doing so well with them, Sanji. Just from watching you with all four of our babies, they all absolutely love you.”
“My love—”
“And don’t argue with me, you know its true.”
Sanji laughs and nods, knowing he’d lose that argument in a heartbeat. You’re always so headstrong and just want him to realize that yes, he’s doing a million times better than his own father did, he’s on par with Zeff nowadays, who your kids also have come to adore as their grandfather.
You look around the kitchen a bit, asking if Sanji wants any help, before he starts listing off everything he still has to do and you just watch him. He starts to take Elie out of the baby carrier and hand him over to you as he sees the look on your face.
“Yeah, I’ll uh…sit with Elie while you cook.”
He laughs again, before kissing your forehead and giving you a smile. “That would be wonderful, my love.”
~~
You never truly know how to celebrate Father’s Day when the father of your children is Zoro. It feels like he doesn’t care about it, even when you roll your eyes at him and tell him just to tell you what he wants, before he shrugs and says he doesn’t need anything. He’s got you, Keitaro, and Kuina, and the rest of the Straw Hats, what else could he possibly want or need? There’s nothing material he needs really, unless you want to get him the expensive sake he likes but you think a liquor store owner might find it highly concerning that a seven-month pregnant woman is buying alcohol, which just made Zoro laugh at you when you brought that up.
Ah right, that’s right, it’s not just you, your two children, and the rest of the Straw Hats anymore, or won’t be in a few short weeks. The baby you actually planned this time would be joining you all soon, that’s more than enough. He definitely doesn’t need anything when he thinks about that, just that you and this baby are safe through the rest of your pregnancy and the birth. That’s all he really wants.
Maybe some of that sake still but he’ll get that another way.
His morning meditation that day is interrupted when he senses Keitaro nearby, the seven-year-old trying to sneak up and catch Zoro off guard, though it never works thanks to his observation haki. Even when your son throws his arms around him and yells “gotcha!”, Zoro just smirks a bit, keeping his eyes closed.
“I knew you were there.”
“Daaaad, you’re cheating!” Keitaro whines and pouts, trying to climb onto Zoro’s back before giving up and going around to sit in his lap. “Mama said haki is cheating!”
“That’s only cause your mom can’t sneak up on me either.” He opens his one good eye and stares down at his little clone, the boy still pouting with his arms crossed over his chest. “Where’re your mom and sister?”
“Umm, Kuina’s still asleep, and mama was awake, but said she was going to lay down cause the baby was making her sleepy again.”
“And what are you doing up so early?”
Keitaro starts to look away a bit, shyly trying not to give anything up, before leaning his head against Zoro’s chest and saying “I wanted to hang out just with you…”
When he was younger, Zoro never thought that having kids was for him. He thought they’d get in the way, that there wasn’t any reason to really have them around apart from legacy, but then you showed up and turned everything upside down. Keitaro wasn’t planned, but he’d brought so much more to both your lives than either of you expected. Your sweet Kuina was a surprise too, you swear she’s made Zoro softer in more recent years, something he tries to deny but everyone else can see it when she’s got his attention.
And your coming addition, the one that was planned, even if they hadn’t been you still would welcome this baby happily. Sometimes, Zoro still isn’t sure that fatherhood suits him, but you swear to him that he’s the best father you’ve ever seen, even better than your own, and maybe you’re right, just from how Keitaro quietly wants to spend time with his dad, just the two of them before the day really gets started. Its more apparent when Kuina convinces him to read to her, and when your unborn child kicks at his hand while he talks to them.
“All right, buddy,” Zoro sets one hand on Keitaro’s back and strokes his hair with the other, watching as he starts to fall back asleep too, not used to being up this early, “You stay with me for now then.”
Maybe he’s not so bad at this fatherhood thing after all.
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wholoveseggs · 9 months ago
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girrrllll, i got another idea! how about Elijah proposing to a reader? it could be angsty in the beginning, maybe they got into a fight because she feels like he always puts his family before her, so he proposes to her to show her she is his family too (and cause he was planning on doing that for a while anyway). and it’s all emotional, she’s not believing what’s happening and she’s thinking he doesn’t really mean it. meanwhile he’s almost desperate to show her how much she means to him. Smut cannot be absent of course. thank youuuu🫶🏻🫶🏻
Forever
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18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}
Elijah loves you with all his heart, but his commitment to his family and his loyalty to Klaus keeps him from acting on his feelings. But when he almost loses you, he is determined to prove that you are the only woman he has ever truly loved, and wants to make you his, forever.
♡♡ Thanks for the request @msveronicag! Who doesn't want to be Elijah's wife? ♡♡
6.8k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, angst, slight violence (a classic Elijah & Klaus brawl), shower sex, rimjob {f!receiving}, oral sex & the Italian coast ♡
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Everyone says that Elijah Mikaelson is the best of his family. A loyal, charming, considerate man that holds himself to a standard not many can accomplish. In essence, perfect. He loves his family deeply, despite their constant misgivings and betrayals. Nothing would get in his way, if it meant he could protect the ones he loves.
Well, that's what you wanted to believe.
There was a reason Elijah held such devotion to his family. He was one of them, and no better than the worst of them, having sinned over and over to the point where atonement was simply not a viable option.
He didn't want you to see him that way, the dark side of his polished exterior. He wanted to shed his past and become a new man with you by his side.
You were unlike anyone he's ever known or had a passing connection to. Your empathy and kindness was beyond measure, it had captivated him the very moment that your eyes met.
He always wanted to be married, there were even a few times he almost found someone to spend eternity with. Something always stood between that moment and himself, usually in the shape of some great threat. But things had now settled in his life, he had a niece and a proper place to call home. He was no longer on the run from one demon or another.
He wanted this. To settle down with the woman of his dreams, build a life together, and maybe even add to it.
Perfect. Simple. Domestic bliss.
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You had come for a small party celebrating Hope's third birthday. Or, as far as you were concerned, a get together amongst those you considered family.
Although, sometimes you worried they didn't see you as family in turn. Deep entrenched history often kept you away from the inner workings of their family life. You understood that you had to earn your place in their lives, and you had done so time and time again. But they never seemed to truly accept you as one of their own.
You got along with nearly all of them except Klaus, who saw you as just a passing phase Elijah was going through. A dalliance, nothing more.
He certainly knew how to poke at your insecurities about your relationship.
"So, tell me," he asked as the two of you waited in the kitchen. "When will this little thing with you and my brother end?"
"Excuse me?" you asked, trying to keep your voice light.
"Don't take it personally, sweetheart. You're not the first pretty face he's lost himself in," Klaus explained with a shrug.
"You don't think he's serious about me?" you questioned, trying not to feel hurt.
Klaus just shrugged and gave you a wicked grin. "Why would he be?"
"Because I love him, and he loves me," you replied, keeping your voice low. "It's been four years, and it's serious."
Klaus let out a bark of a laugh. "Four years is nothing in the life of an original. When will you stop living in this fantasy you've built in your mind? This will end and you will move on."
You were about to respond with a few choice words when Hayley came in carrying hope.
While your relationship with Klaus was contentious and you thought him to be cruel and cold. There was no doubt that Hope loved her daddy with all of her tiny heart. She reached out to him, and he happily took her into his arms.
"There's my little one," he cooed, holding her close. "I love you, my sweet girl."
He began to place kisses all over her, and the three year old giggled loudly.
You had baked the cake for her, and placed a number 3 candle in the middle.
"Let's light her up!" you announced.
The cake was placed on the dining room table, and Elijah stood by you. He slipped his hand in yours and squeezed.
"I want auntie y/n to light it," Hope said.
You smiled wide and kissed her on the head.
"Okay," you whispered, your voice soft.
You lit the candle, and everyone began to sing as the little Mikaelson happily ate a slice of cake, messily covering herself. You laughed, taking a cloth to wipe her little face and hands. Elijah watched you with adoring eyes, you were such a loving soul and he was so lucky to be the one to call you his own.
The cake was enjoyed by all and soon it was time for gifts. Hope was handed a large package by her father, and she eagerly tore open the paper.
You were cuddled up to Elijah, and he pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head. "Thank you, my love."
"For what?" you asked, glancing up at him.
"For being here. It means a lot to me," he told you.
You looked back up at Elijah, and kissed him lightly.
"I wouldn't want to be anywhere else," you told him.
Hayley helped Hope unwrap the gift from you and Elijah. It was a wooden dollhouse, and it was a miniature replica of the compound, complete with a little Klaus, Elijah, Hayley, and Hope.
Hope hugged the dollhouse to her chest. "I love it!"
"We made it ourselves," you said with a smile.
"Look, daddy!" Hope squealed. "Auntie Y/N and Uncle 'lijah got me a house."
Klaus gave you a tight smile, and you looked at Elijah. He wrapped an arm around your waist, and held you close. This only seemed to annoy Klaus more, but he turned his attention to his daughter, and the gift that she had received.
"That's amazing, little love. Now, why don't you open the rest of your presents?"
"Okay!"
The evening winded down, and eventually Klaus and Hayley took Hope upstairs to get her ready for bed and the rest of the family retired to their rooms. You had left the dining room table a mess, and wanted to help clean up.
You had picked up a few discarded wrapping papers, when Elijah's arms came around your waist.
"Don't worry about that, my love," he whispered, pressing his lips to your neck. "Leave it, we can do it tomorrow."
"You're sure?" you asked, leaning against him.
"Very," he whispered, taking your hand and leading you towards his bedroom. "I have other plans for you."
"Oh?"
"Mmm," he replied, nipping at your ear. "You know, I've been thinking of you all day. All the things I'd like to do with you."
You flushed,  biting your lips and smiling shyly. He never failed to make your heart skip a beat when he looked at you with that seductive gaze. He never had to force it either, his stare was simply alluring and attentive, it pulled you into its grasp like a siren's song.
Elijah shut the door, and the moment you turned around, he grabbed you and kissed you passionately. His hands held your hips tightly, pulling you against him. He kissed down your jawline, and down your throat.
He pushed you gently onto the bed, kissing down your neck and inhaling the smell of your skin, pulling your clothes off as he went along.
His love, his entire world, right here in his arms. If he were a more possessive man, he'd keep you in this room until his love was imprinted in your very bones.
He kissed you softly, wanting to take his time and express how deeply he cared for you with each touch. He moved down your body, worshiping your skin with his hands and mouth, and the soft sounds that escaped you only urged him on.
His bliss was quickly broken by the sounds of his brother yelling for him at the top of his lungs- an unnecessary use of volume, considering everyone had supernatural hearing.
You reached down and cupped his face, drawing his attention back to you.
"Please don't," you whispered, a pleading look in your eyes. "Stay,"
Elijah's breath left his lungs. You were not the clingy type, in fact you were rather understanding and independent; letting him go and do whatever it was the family needed, always supporting him.
He should stay, finish what he started with you, love you, the one he can't live without. But there was clearly something going on downstairs, his family needed him.
He pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "I'll be back."
"Sure," you said flatly, pulling away. You didn't quite meet his eyes as you turned on your side, facing away from him.
You were clearly upset, but he didn't have time to be swayed by his emotions. He leaned in to give you a quick kiss, but you turned your head away.
"I'm sorry, my love," he said, stroking your hair.
You didn't respond, and he had to leave you there, curled up and angry. He felt a deep pang of regret, but the thought of his family's safety was at the forefront of his mind.
As soon as Elijah left, you let your emotions come to a boil. It hurt how he was constantly running away to deal with his family. It hurt you when he put them over you, their arguments over little things always dragged him in. It made you feel undesired, and second best.
You had no doubt he cared for you, and you did believe he loved you. But did he truly love you the way he loved his own family?
No, not really. He was always holding back, never showing all of himself. He wanted a relationship, but not a true partnership. Not with you, anyway.
Your insecurities bubbled to the surface. The way Klaus acted around you, like you didn't belong, he always treated you as if you were an outsider. Perhaps he was right, that it was a fantasy, that you should move on.
It didn't matter that you were with Elijah. It didn't matter that he called you his love.
He could love you, but not be in love with you. And maybe he wasn't. Maybe this was all a lie, a ruse. 
Just too good to be true.
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Klaus was pacing around the courtyard, clearly worked up and ready to take it out on the next person who walked through the door.
"Is it necessary to yell?" Elijah asked, his voice calm and collected.
"I had to make sure to get your attention, since you've been so distracted lately," Klaus snarked, a pointed look on his face.
Elijah let out a sigh, this wasn't the first time they've had this conversation. He was growing tired of Klaus' attitude. "What is it that's so important?" he asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.
"Y/n is a distraction," Klaus began. "You are blinded by her, and you've become weak and weakness will get us killed." He was speaking quickly and with anger. "You are no longer the man that I've known for a thousand years. You have forgotten where you came from, what you are, and who you are meant to protect."
"Are you suggesting I cast her aside?" Elijah questioned, his voice cold.
"Yes, exactly," Klaus answered, his expression unchanging.
"No," Elijah stated simply.
"She acts far too familiar, and is clearly not one of us," Klaus continued.
"She has proven herself time and time again," Elijah countered. "What more does she need to do?"
"I don't want Hope getting attached to someone that isn't family," Klaus said.
"You can't control who Hope gets close to," Elijah snapped, his anger finally rising.
"I can certainly try," Klaus replied, his tone icy. "And I will. Because you've allowed this woman into our home, our family, and now she's acting as if she belongs."
"She does," Elijah said, his voice steady. "You just have a hard time accepting that."
"If you really care about her, then you will do what is best," Klaus replied, his expression changing. "We both know what happens to your dalliances, they come to tragic ends. I'm trying to spare her from that, brother."
"This isn't some fling, Klaus," Elijah growled, his eyes flashing with rage.
"No, she's just a girl you enjoy fucking! And now Hope is calling her auntie, and she's acting like she's Hope's mother-"
Elijah laughed coldly, his brother was so painfully transparent, his paranoia endless and ever growing. "Is that what this is about? You're afraid of her taking Hayley's place? That I would take yours? Have you officially gone insane?" he mocked, his anger at a breaking point. "Have my actions in the last few years not been clear?"
"She will not be welcomed here once you've tired of her. Once she's gone, Hope will ask for her, and I will not allow that," Klaus stated, his voice rising. "You will have broken a little girls heart because of some stupid infatuation."
Elijah's patience with his brother had worn thin. He had to remind himself that Klaus had suffered so many losses in his long life, that his paranoia had grown into something monstrous. But in times like this, his brother could be utterly cruel, and it was impossible to see him as anything but.
"It's not some stupid infatuation," Elijah seethed, his hands clenched into fists. "I love her, and that's something you will never understand. She has been good for me, and has done nothing but support us. She's not a threat, and you know it. This is the problem with you, you want everyone to suffer as you have."
"That is not what I'm doing-" Klaus began, his voice rising. "She's not one of us, and will never be. You just keep her around as a trophy, to remind yourself that you are capable of caring for another. She doesn't belong here, and it will be her undoing."
Elijah lost his control and snapped. He grabbed his brother and threw him against the wall. Klaus' head hit the stone and cracked loudly. His face contorted into an expression of rage, his eyes flashing gold. He moved forward and punched Elijah in the face, sending him stumbling back. He rushed at his brother and grabbed him by the throat, squeezing tightly. Klaus' anger grew, and his grip tightened.
"Enough!" Hayley screamed, grabbing Klaus' arm and pulling him back. She looked between the two brothers, her eyes wide. "Why are you two fist fighting when my daughter is trying to sleep?!"
Klaus' eyes were wild, and his face was covered in blood, Elijah looked the same, and neither was ready to back down. The only thing stopping them was Hayley's presence. She stood between them, and looked at Klaus. "What did you do? What could you have possibly said to him?" she demanded.
"Y/n isn't family, and never will be," Klaus spat, glaring at Elijah. "I have to protect our daughter."
"Our daughter? You're unbelievable, Klaus," Hayley said, shaking her head. "Go. To. Bed. Both of you," she commanded.
She grabbed Klaus's hand, and dragged him away. Elijah sighed, rubbing his forehead. He looked up and saw you on one of the upper balconies with an unreadable expression on your face.
Had you seen that entire argument? Did you hear the awful things his brother had said about you?
He rushed up the stairs and met you at your bedroom door. You had your bag in your hand, and he knew immediately what was happening.
"You can't," he told you, shaking his head.
"I'm not welcome here," you whispered. "I have to go, Elijah."
"You are always welcome here," he said, reaching for you. "Please, let's talk."
"We have talked," you told him, pushing his hand away. "I've heard everything I needed to hear, Elijah. You keep choosing them over me. It's always your family first, and I understand that, but you have to see how it hurts me. I can't just keep coming second in your life."
"You aren't," he whispered, trying to draw you close, but you gently pushed him away. He felt his heart shatter at the action, and he knew he had lost you. "I want you, I choose you. Don't do this, my love."
You pushed past him, unable to hear anything else he had to say at the moment, you needed space to think, to figure out what you wanted. If this was a fight you could win. "Goodbye, Elijah," you said, giving him one last glance.
He stood there, and he was frozen. How could this have happened? He thought that he had made you understand that this was permanent. That you were forever.
But he had failed to show his love properly and he had to fix what he broke. You were his greatest love, his everything, and he couldn't live without you. He was nothing without you. So he would do whatever it took to bring you back.
Because if you were gone, so was he.
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You were staying with Marcel, the only person who understood what it was like to be in the Mikaelson shadow. He wasn't thrilled that Elijah had hurt you, but he did understand that relationships weren't always easy, especially with the Mikaelsons.
He poured you a stiff drink, and let you wallow.
"I shouldn't have gone," you muttered.
"It's Hope's birthday," he pointed out.
"But I should have known better than to get involved like that, it only makes Klaus jealous," you sighed.
"Klaus is a notorious asshole, and Elijah is...well, he's not good with his emotions."
"That's putting it lightly."
You drank the whole glass in one gulp, and poured yourself another.
"I don't know why I thought that he was serious," you grumbled.
"He's serious, but he's also scared," Marcel replied. "It's a lot easier for him to push people away, then have the chance to hurt them."
"It's a terrible feeling, wanting to be a part of a family that doesn't want you," you admitted.
"I know the feeling," Marcel replied, sitting down next to you.
"He told me he loved me. He told me that we were going to spend forever together. And yet, his family still doesn't accept me." You looked up at Marcel, your eyes filled with tears.
"It's just Klaus, the rest of them adore you," he told you.
"How do I get Klaus to trust me? I'm not trying to take his daughter," you insisted.
"Just be patient, give him some time," Marcel advised.
"I've given him four years," you said. "And he's not willing to accept me even a little."
Marcel nodded, and handed you another drink. "Don't worry about Klaus, he'll get over himself."
"And Elijah?" you asked.
Marcel frowned. "That's not my area."
"Yeah," you said, nodding slowly. "Me either."
You and Marcel had a few drinks and talked the night away. By the end, you had almost completely forgotten your heartache, and were simply enjoying the company.
Marcel had fallen asleep, and you were dozing off when your phone buzzed. You opened it and saw a message from Elijah.
We need to talk.
You sighed, and sent him a simple reply.
Tomorrow.
You were far too exhausted to deal with his bullshit right now. You tossed your phone on the coffee table and fell asleep.
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The next morning you woke up on Marcel's couch, a blanket thrown over you. You stretched, and grabbed your phone, heading into the kitchen.
Elijah had texted you back.
Meet me outside, I have a car waiting for you.
You frowned. He was sending a car for you? You quickly responded.
Why are you sending a car?
A response came instantly.
It's a surprise.
You shook your head, but smiled a little and texted him back.
Fine, give me 10 minutes.
Hurry, we're on a tight schedule.
You showered, and got dressed, grabbing your bag, and heading out. You gave Marcel a quick goodbye, and hopped into the town car.
Elijah was sitting there, and smiled softly.
"Good morning," he said.
"Morning," you replied.
He looked you over, and you were surprised by the intense gaze. You blushed under his scrutiny.
"What?" you asked.
"You're beautiful," he said softly. "And I'm sorry, for all of this. I never meant to hurt you, or make you feel unwanted."
You shook your head. "I know you didn't," you said. "And it's okay."
"It's not," he told you, reaching for your hand. You let him take it, and he pressed a kiss to your palm.
You flushed, and looked away. "Where are we going?"
"The airport," he replied.
"What? Why?" You were completely confused.
"You are right, I'm not putting you first, and I will not allow that anymore," Elijah replied. "And to prove it, we're going somewhere, just the two of us."
"Where are we going?"
"Italy, we're going to spend a month on the Amalfi Coast." he said, a soft smile on his face.
"A month?" You asked, a hint of excitement in your voice.
"Yes," he nodded, and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. "I've been neglectful, and I need to remind you of how I feel about you.
"Eli, you don't have to do all of this."
"Yes, I do," he replied. "You deserve the world."
He had rented a private plane, and had arranged everything. You were incredibly impressed that he managed to pull it all off in the span of a night.
You sat beside him on the plane, his hand intertwined with yours, and a soft smile on his face. You couldn't help but relax, the last couple of days had been so tense, but you couldn't stay mad at him, and a romantic getaway was exactly what you needed.
As the plane took off, Elijah reached over and brushed your hair out of your face. You lifted the arm rest and cuddled up against him, resting your head on his chest. He held you close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You missed this, the way he was so attentive, the way he was gentle with you.
"I am sorry, for making you feel second best," he said, his voice low and full of regret.
"I know," you said, reaching up and stroking his cheek. "It's okay, your dedication to your family is part of what I love about you."
You looked up at him and kissed him softly.
"Let's not dwell on the past," you said. "We have a whole month to make new memories."
"I am going to spoil you so much, my love," he said, kissing your nose.
The flight was nearly twelve hours and you immediately fell asleep when the plane leveled out. When you woke up, the sun was starting to set.
Elijah was reading a book, and had his free hand resting on your hip. You smiled, and snuggled closer. He put the book down and looked at you, his eyes soft and full of affection.
"Good morning, or rather evening," he chuckled. "Sleep well?"
"Yeah," you yawned.
You looked out the window, and saw the city below. It was like something out of a dream, colorful houses all stacked up, the sea sparkling as the sun set.
"Welcome to Positano," he said.
"Elijah," you whispered, awe in your voice.
"Beautiful, isn't it?"
"It's magical," you gushed.
"Yes, it is."
The plane landed, and a car was waiting. Elijah had rented an entire villa for the two of you. It was stunning, with a view of the ocean, and a private beach.
You walked through the villa, looking at all the art and antiques. It was very much Elijah's taste, and you could see yourself spending a month here.
The moon was out and it cast a soft glow over the sea. Elijah took your hand and the two of you walked down the stairs to the beach.
The sounds of the waves gently lapping on the sand soothed you. You walked down the shoreline, your hands intertwined.
"You didn't have to do all this, you know," you said, leaning against him.
"I know, but I wanted to. I needed to. It was a selfish thing, really," he replied, wrapping his arms around you.
Up ahead you saw something on the beach, it was too dark to make out, but it looked like a bunch of neatly shaped debris.
You walked a little closer, and you could make out the shapes. It was a heart, surrounded by lit candles, and flowers. The words "I love you" written with rose petals on the sand. Suddenly a bunch of twinkle lights were turned on, and the whole scene was lit up.
You turned around to ask Elijah if he had done this, but the words died in your throat. He was kneeling on the ground, a ring box in his hand.
"Y/n," he began, his voice soft and loving.
"What are you doing?" you asked, a bit breathless.
"I should have done this a long time ago," he said. "I should have married you years ago, but I was afraid. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give you everything you deserve."
"Eli-"
"No, let me finish," he insisted, and continued. "I've spent centuries on this earth, never truly belonging anywhere. Always searching, never finding. Until I found you. My home, my heart, my family."
You were crying, tears streaming down your face. You couldn't really process what was happening, here was the man of your dreams, pouring his heart out, telling you how much he loved you, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.
"You are my world, my everything. And I want to spend eternity by your side," he said, opening the box and showing you the ring.
The ring was absolutely stunning, a large ruby surrounded by diamonds. It looked antique and must have been worth a fortune.
"I found this ring almost five hundred years ago, right here in Italy. I knew that when I finally found the right person, I would give it to them," he said, smiling up at you.
"You can't be serious," you said, not intending for it to sound as harsh as it did. You were in complete shock.
"I have never been more serious in my entire life," he replied, his voice firm.
"What will your family say?" You asked, worried about Klaus’ reaction.
"Niklaus can go fuck himself," Elijah grinned. "As for the rest of them, they will be thrilled."
You nodded slowly, letting the words sink in.
"This is insane," you whispered, unable to stop staring at the ring.
"Is that a yes?" He asked, looking nervous. "Will you be my wife?"
"Yes," you breathed, and he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger. It fit perfectly, as though it was made for you.
He stood up, and kissed you. You threw your arms around him, your fingers tangling in his hair, kissing him back with every ounce of love you had for him.
"You're my family, you're my home," he whispered, spinning you around. "And I vow, from this day on, you will always come first. I love you."
"I love you too," you murmured, cupping his cheek. "With all my heart."
He pulled you close, kissing you deeply. You lost yourself in his embrace, in the way his hands felt on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue in your mouth.
You both stumbled to the villa, tearing each other's clothes off. Your back hit the wall, and Elijah pushed your skirt up. His hands found your thighs and he squeezed the soft flesh, lifting you up, your legs wrapped around his waist. He kissed along your neck, leaving little marks in his wake.
"My fiance," he muttered against the flesh. "My darling love."
"I like the sound of that," you moaned.
"Then you're going to absolutely adore being called my wife," he grinned, moving his lips down to your breasts.
His kisses turned bruising, biting at the flesh of your tits. He was rough with you and you relished it. It was like he was finally unleashing his feelings, letting out all the love he had for you.
You tugged on his hair, bringing his lips back to yours, hungry for his kisses, drunk off of his affection.
"Bed, Eli," you murmured, but instead, he picked you up and carried you into the shower.
He set you on your feet and turned the water on.
"We are covered in sand," he grinned.
The steam was rising as the water heated up, and the moment it was hot enough Elijah pulled you in with him. You squealed as the warm water washed over you, cleaning you off.
The water was the perfect temperature, a delicious warmth, but not as delicious as the feeling of him pressing into you, pinning your front against the tile.
He reached up, taking your hands and pinning them to the tile wall.
"Keep your hands here," he commanded, pressing a kiss to the back of one.
You nodded, a small moan escaping your lips, he kissed his way down your back. He ran his tongue down the length of your spine. Soft and gentle, teasing over the top of your ass. His hands ran over your legs, and he bent you slightly, opening your cheeks to reveal the most intimate part of you.
"Beautiful," he murmured, before lapping at you.
Your knees nearly buckled as he pressed his face into your flesh. His hands spread your cheeks wide as his tongue dipped into your core. The way his mouth touched every part of you left you dizzy with need. Your thighs clenched, your clit pulsing, ready to be touched.
But you did what he told you, and kept your hands above your head. The porcelain felt cool on your heated skin and he tugged you closer, your hands moving further down as your body was pulled back. His tongue darted into your center, teasing around your hole, his saliva coating you, trailing up, finding your puckered hole, and slowly circling the muscle.
"Elijah," you whimpered, gasping as his tongue worked you open.
He slipped a finger into your dripping cunt, working it inside, pulling it out and sliding it up, moving to replace his tongue on your tight entrance. He swirled around your asshole before pushing the pad of his finger into your tight heat, his mouth sucking on your ass, soft moans escaping him, vibrating against your flesh.
You struggled to keep yourself upright, your hands against the wall, bracing yourself, wiggling against him. The warm water of the shower cascading over you, the sensations were too much and not enough. You were panting, your head tilted back, eyes closed, as you were overwhelmed by his touch.
He pulled back and stood up, kissing along the back of your neck, he placed his hands on your hips and pulled you close.
"Do you want more, sweetheart?" He murmured in your ear, his voice low and seductive.
"Yes," you breathed, arching against him.
His cock was hard, trapped between the two of you. You ground against him, rubbing yourself on his length, desperate for the friction.
"How much more?" He asked, a smirk in his voice.
"All of it," you said.
"Right here, up against the shower wall?"
"Yes, Elijah, please," you begged.
He hummed and reached between the two of you, taking his length and teasing your core with it. He loved making you beg for him, and he loved hearing the desperation in your voice. But you were now to be his wife, and he was going to take care of you.
He eased himself into your center, groaning at the tightness of you, how good it felt to be surrounded by your warmth. You moaned as he pressed inside of you, the thickness of his cock filling you.
He placed his hands on top of yours against the wall, intertwining your fingers.
"I love you," he murmured, his hips moving against you.
"I love you," you moaned, rocking your hips with him.
He took his time with you, savoring the feeling of your body. He had almost lost you, and he needed to remind you how much you meant to him, how he cherished you.
His slow, languid movements were torture, the heat building inside of you, his thick cock rubbing every inch of your pussy. You moved together, the two of you in sync.
Your orgasm started to build, a slow burn deep within. You had never been so turned on, or so loved, the way he held you, the way he whispered your name like a prayer.
"That's it, baby, come for me," he encouraged, his hips picking up the pace.
He could feel the change, and he knew exactly how to push you over the edge. His thrusts became harder, more purposeful. His lips found the sensitive spot on your neck, and he sucked the tender flesh.
Your walls clenched and you fell apart, coming undone for him, moaning his name, over and over. He smiled against your skin, he could stay buried inside of you forever, and never tire of the way you made him feel.
He turned off the shower and pulled you to the bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. He laid you down on the bed, his body on top of yours.
"I can't wait to make love to you every day, for the rest of our lives," he smiled.
"That's a long time, Eli," you teased.
"Not long enough," he smirked.
He took your legs and spread them, kneeling between them. He guided his length into you, and pushed all the way in.
He groaned, loving the way your body opened up to him, the way you felt like home.
"Elijah," you gasped, your hands reaching for him, needing to touch him.
"I love the way you say my name," he smiled, leaning down and kissing you, his tongue licking into your mouth.
He rocked into you, slowly, the feeling of you was addictive. You were his drug and he would never be able to get enough of you. He pictured all the ways he would make love to you, the ways he would please you, worship you.
"My beautiful girl," he groaned, his body on fire, his desire burning, and it only fueled his need.
His hips snapped against yours, and you gripped the sheets, the pleasure coursing through you. Another orgasm was building, the feeling of him deep inside of you, the way he looked at you with such love.
"Come with me, my love," he pleaded, his hand moving between the two of you, finding your clit, his fingers gently rubbing the bundle of nerves.
He was so close, and he was determined to have you come with him, to fall apart for him, together.
You whimpered and moaned, your hips lifting to meet his, chasing the feeling, knowing it was so close. He pressed his lips to yours, and the dam broke, crashing over the both of you.
You came together, moaning, his cock twitching as he emptied inside of you, your walls clenching and milking him, taking everything he had to offer.
You collapsed, boneless, spent, completely and utterly satisfied. He smiled at the sight of you, blissed out and glowing, your hair wet and splayed out over the pillows. . He had never seen anything so beautiful in his entire life.
He laid down next to you, making sure to keep you close. You curled into his chest, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight.
"So, tell me more about this wedding of ours," you grinned, holding your hand up to look at your ring.
"I'll arrange everything, don't you worry about a thing," he said softly, nuzzling your neck.
"Is that so? I don't get any input?" you teased, turning to look at him, your lips brushing against his.
"I mean, you can make suggestions, if you'd like," he smirked, his hand running along the curve of your hip.
"Hmm, well, I do think we should get married in Positano," you smiled, and his eyes lit up.
"It’s perfect here, isn't it?" he mused, a soft smile on his lips.
"I want it to be a small wedding," you said, tracing patterns on his chest. "Family and close friends only."
"Of course," he replied. "I want it to be something just for us."
The two of you talked until the early morning, dreaming up your future together, and making plans for your wedding. It would be a simple affair, a celebration of your love, in a beautiful location, with the people who cared about the two of you the most.
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The month spent in Italy was something out of a dream, the days filled with long walks on the beach, picnics in the gardens, and nights filled with dancing and drinking. You made love in the most luxurious beds, and in the most unorthodox places, including the rooftop patio one night. You even made it a bit of a game, seeing who could find the best spots to fuck in. Elijah always won, and was very proud of himself, you loved seeing him so carefree, so happy.
There was no talk of his family or what was going on at home. It was like you were in your own little world, just the two of you. But it was time to return home, the news of your engagement was something you both wanted to share in person.
When you entered the compound, Hope came running up to her favorite uncle, Elijah scooped her up in his arms and spun her around.
"Uncle ‘lijah! Auntie y/n you're home!" she grinned, and you smiled at her, ruffling her hair.
"Have you been behaving for your mother?" Elijah asked, carrying her towards the courtyard, letting her tell you both all about what she had been up to while you were away.
"I see the trip did you both some good," Klaus said, walking towards the three of you. His eyes darted to the ring on your finger, the red ruby catching the light. "Is that what I think it is?"
"What is?" Hope asked, looking confused.
"I asked aunt y/n to marry me," Elijah told Hope, smiling sweetly at her.
"You did?" She exclaimed, her eyes wide.
"Yes," you nodded, laughing at the excitement.
Hope hugged Elijah tightly, and Klaus looked at his brother, a hint of a smile on his lips. The sight of his daughter so happy warmed his heart.
"Well, I wish you both every bit of happiness," he said, giving you a tight smile.
"Thank you," you replied, knowing his words were sincere and it was probably the most enthusiastic response you would ever get from him. It was progress and that was enough for you.
Elijah put Hope down, and she took off running, the news of your engagement clearly something she was very excited about. You could hear her yelling the news as she ran through the compound. Rebekah was the first to appear, pulling you into a tight hug.
"Congratulations!" She beamed, and you hugged her back, her enthusiasm contagious. "I better be a bridesmaid."
The rest of the Mikaelson's slowly came and offered their congratulations. Hayley and Freya both hugged you, Marcel shook Elijah's hand and Kol gave you a warm smile. Hope was thrilled, talking a mile a minute about all the ways she was going to help with the wedding.
"Can I be a bridesmaid?" she asked, her cute little face pleading.
You knelt down so you were at her level, taking her hand. "How about something even more special? No one else at the wedding is going to have such an important job."
"What is it?" She asked, her face completely in awe.
"Will you be my flower girl?"
She squealed and jumped into your arms, squeezing you tight. "Really? Yes! I'd love to!"
You laughed and hugged her back.
Elijah watched the scene, a warmth in his chest. You were his family, his home, the missing piece that had made him whole. He had finally found the love he had been searching for.
You caught him staring, and walked over to him, his arm wrapping around your waist. He kissed the side of your head and let out a contented sigh. You were everything he ever wanted and so much more.
"I can't wait to call you my wife," he smiled.
"Neither can I," you said, your lips meeting his, sealing the promise, always and forever.
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musedblues · 6 months ago
Text
All Things Must Pass
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a/n: IDK CHAT this is 100% projection. long story short, i promised @almightyellie and @userjohndeacon a sessa fic, started it, then proceeded to have the worst june ever. and i accidentally ended up turning this entire plot into my therapy. sorry for the devastation but...  happy ending?
description: since starting college angus became your very best friend. just as you begin to wrap up your academic career, shit hits the fan for everyone. friends to lover's type shit but make it excruciating. angus x fem reader. 
warnings: explicit sexual situations, death, mentions of suicidal ideation, brief scene ft. harassment, over all morbid tone. God bless whoever takes the time to put up with this plot lmao
18k
MINORS DNI
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The Party
"Would you hurry up! I want to get there before all the good booze is gone." Angus drummed on his steering wheel as you rushed into his passenger seat. He'd been honking outside your dorm for five minutes, despite the couple times you poked your head out the window to yell at him that you were coming.
"I got ready later than I wanted, I was actually trying to study. You know we're at college to learn shit, right?" 
"Yeah, and I'm trying to learn how to get drunk fast tonight. Every moment of this precious life is a lesson to be learned if you let it, kid." Angus jested, as if being a few months younger mattered in your mid-twenties. 
"You used to be fun, Angus. You used to be so carefree. You used to bitch so much less profoundly. That philosophy class has done a number on you." You laughed as you teased him, watching your friend grin in response. Angus was your favorite pain in the ass. You were his, he said so often. He was your ride to everywhere. You were his built-in tutor for everything. He was your emergency contact on every official form. All because he was lost the first weekend here; and you just happened to learn directions to the furthest class on campus moments before he asked an ever-emptying hallway of students to show him the way.
"Look. This is the last party Kiara is throwing before she graduates, and before our month of finals. I just want to have the best night possible." Angus reasoned. He went on to ramble about how uptight you had been about school lately, and how you needed to let lose tonight all the same. Angus was right.
Your first year of college was spent in elation, when you realized you'd finally escaped the confines of your family. None of them ever had your best interest in mind, and rushing off to freedom was how you spent your 20th autumn. Your second year of college was spent really nailing down your major, hedging all your bets on studying something serious that would keep you afloat your entire life. Something you could depend on for yourself and no one else. But the fatigue of your intense studies set in by the third year, leading you to seek out more extra curriculars to take the edge off. 
It was Kiara's idea to take dance lessons. She was your partner in every tango and waltz. She was your biggest encouragement to take the extra ballet class. And she'd been really pushing you to audition for the team that would travel to Europe to compete in an annual competition. Between your friend, and your instructor, you'd been swayed to stay longer at practices- and to work harder for auditions at the start of the summer. But that meant your studies became even more of a challenge, with your brain focused on achieving more goals than you'd set out to tackle. 
"So, what are we doing tonight?" Angus rallied, as he pulled against the curb of Kiara's townhouse. 
"Having a good time!" You enunciated each word as Angus chanted along with you, smiling his stupidly perfect smile. You'd always loved the sight of him happy, carefree. Happy looked especially good on your friend Angus.
You trailed behind your friend as he bound toward the steps of the party, and held open the front door for you. The air was misty with hints of rain, summer couldn't settle in quick enough.
Kiara's home was big enough for four or more people, but she planned to share it only with her cousin- a lawyer on her way from Chicago, whom none of you had yet to meet. To the left of the entrance hall was the living room; packed with acquaintances and strangers clinking red solo cups together as a Hendrix record played. To the left was the kitchen, where Kiara stood showing off an island full of drinks and organized snacks. Her springy brown curls were pulled back in a neat ponytail and she was dressed better than anyone, as always. 
"There they are!" She smiled and pointed to you and Angus, before waving you over to her massive refrigerator. 
"Extra cold beer and expensive liquor for friends only." Kiara swept her hand to suggest you pick your poison, as she swatted away a stranger from reaching in all at once. You laughed and thanked her for being extra thoughtful, not surprised by her set up. She was the most detail-oriented human you'd ever met. Once Angus had a bottle of beer in either hand and you were content with the last of some old chardonnay, you followed Kiara out to the patio. 
There beyond the steady flame from the fire pit, sat Soren and Tom. Both already high off their asses. They waved as you approached and lit up a fresh joint. And just like that your group was glued together. You'd all wound up in San Fransico from different parts of the country. And you'd all ended up tight knit throughout a year of run ins at pubs and races to class, despite the difference in some of your grades. Fate continuously lobbed you each together. And over the past few years; time always carved out at least one day a week where the five of you could hunch over laughing past midnight like a band of fools.
"How's your job at the cafe going Soren? Paying your book fees back in a timelier manner now?" You rose a brow and looked to your friend. His blonde curls hung to his shoulders; his eyes red by way of the night's events that had only just begun. How he was dependable enough to hold down a job you were unsure, but impressed by all the while.
"I haven't been late once in the two months I've worked there. For work, or my fees." The guy boasted, taking a hit from the blunt he kept promising to pass around but never did. Your group set down their bottles and glasses to give Soren a small round of applause. 
"What about you Kiara? Are you set up for your internship?" Angus asked, both beers already gone. He rose from his perch on a lounge chair to reach in a nearby cooler for another drink. 
"Oh yeah. I start next week, and I graduate three days later. It's getting real, gang. We're getting grown up." Kiara pouted out of sentiment, and nervousness, you noticed. 
"One day closer to death." Tom concluded, "Gotta make the most of it!" The guy lunged, stealing the blunt that Soren had been hogging, laughing at the blonde's appalment. You admired Tom's waggish disposition, eagerness to keep you all on your toes. But even dark eyed, dark humored Tom started to lament about how fast time was flying by this third year of school. 
"I'm gonna graduate, get a house and a few cats. I'm gonna start working at the vet clinic and be rich enough to start my own in ten years." Tom declared, so sure of himself. You watched your friend mean every word that came out of his mouth, which was rare for the often-unserious fellow.
"Did you know," Angus began to rally, raising his bottle to make a point. "In Egypt when a family's cat died, they all shaved their eyebrows off as a sign of respect. Haven't figured out why yet. But I was reading-" 
You groaned a laugh, decidedly tuning out the rest of Angus' sentance. You loved that he always had a recently studied story to share. They fascinated you, usually. But tonight, Angus rambles about history repeating itself was filling you with dread. You weren't keen to consider the past tonight. And your own lack of clarity about the future was growing vaster every day. 
Remembering your promise to let loose here, you politely excused yourself from Angus' on-going speech to find more to drink. Surely the fridge inside had something strong enough, something to really set you off for the evening. 
A bottle of whiskey seemed promising but there were no mixers. You settled for a couple shots, and chatted with a girl who lived down the hall from you. She did two more shots with you and introduced you to her girlfriend. The pair were nice enough together but wouldn't shut the fuck up about a recent trip to France and their decision to move there. Couldn't anyone talk about anything besides their plans for life, tonight?
In the living room, strangers picked the worst vinyl's from Kiara's collection to spin. You sighed as some physics major beamed at the sound of Neil Diamond groaning from the speakers.
Thank God you hadn't been left to linger too long alone. Angus was tapping at your shoulder eventually, holding up a bottle of your favorite rum you hadn't realized was available. His smile grew mischievously as he beckoned you to follow him away from the crowd. This was when the real fun always began.
The spare most bedroom was home to a smaller record player and a more prized collection of vinyl's. Kiara never minded your spinning these, knowing how delicate and careful you were with them. How you were more dazzled by some of her favorite collections than she was, on occasion.
Angus was quick to lock the door, keeping out the people who inevitably started knocking to use the en suite bathroom. Kiara had two more. They'd figure that out. You chose an older album, struggling to turn it up louder than the shit they were blaring from the living room. Angus had already taken an absurd swig of rum from the bottle by the time you'd finished fidgeting with the volume dial. 
"Geeze, save some for the rest of us buddy." You snatched the drink for your own turn, already buzzed, but looking to see stars tonight. Angus was well on his way, it seemed, laughing a little too hard at your jest.
"Finally, good music and decent booze. And you, I guess." You smiled up at Angus, taking a big drink as he grinned back your way. He accepted the bottle back as you began to drone on about the shit music the crowd was playing. You rambled about how you feared they lacked a certain amount of passion for talent. You lamented still how easy it was for people to know passion better than you ever could. How unequivocally everyone spoke tonight about their passions and futures and plans. But how even given your efforts to want the same things, you didn't feel that same certainty everyone else seemed to.
"You gotta get out of here." Angus stalled before you, tapping his pointer finger against your temple. He was always getting you to snap out of your silly spinning what if's and why's.
"Sorry. I know, we're supposed to be having fun." You remarked, grabbing back the bottle to catch up to Angus level of inebriation. He went on to make some foul retort about passion, a joke about the last time he managed a one night stand.
"That's the same gusto you're so proud of that got you only frowns the day you asked out three poor freshman before lunch."
"Win some you lose some." Angus grinned, taking a generous swig before passing the bottle to you. You were both well drunk by then and enjoying the solitude from the masses. Kiara threw the best parties because she had the biggest house. And that gave you a lot of opportunities to seek out space all the while, which was the more valued asset, you thought. Your longsuffering roommate was always in the way. And if your one was an obstacle, Angus' three others were too much to bear. Nights like these were sacred for so many reasons.
"I'm better with silent queues, anyway. I've never successfully talked my way into a date."
You chuckled in your friend's direction, rolling your shoulders to the beat of the new vinyl you picked out. You dreamed a little of adding this song to the list of ones to choreograph in the future.
"No, I'm serious! The people I've successfully hooked up with in college have all happened when I decide to keep the talking to a minimum. A little body language goes a long way, I swear!"
"Angus you know I love you, but I'm struggling to believe you." He was too awkward. Not in a nerdish way. But something about his countenance could be enigmatically naive. He'd been through a lot in his young life, enough to hold a certain wisdom in his posture. But he still seemed to have so much to learn.
"No?" Angus stifled a laugh, seeming to make a decision with a nod. "Well what about this?" He set the bottle of rum down on a chest of drawers.  Angus turned, giving you a sly look over his shoulder, before spinning to face you all the way, letting his eye's rake up your figure. He did have the most alluring set of eyes, and you liked to imagine what was going through his head as he peered across every inch of your body.
"You come here often, darlin'?" Angus rose a playful brow, reaching to sling an arm over your shoulder. You huffed a sorry laugh and shook your head in disapproval.
"It worked until I talked, didn't it?" Angus bit his lip, lifting his brows again to get you to giggle. Even if it did, you'd never tell him.
You drank more and argued over what records to play. You laid on the floor near the speakers and settled into silence when a particularly good song came on. Angus hummed along and made you smile. You drank more and made each other laugh until you cried, slumped against the wall by the loo. Music still pulsed from downstairs, but you noticed fewer voices rallied from downstairs, fewer knocks on your door too.
Then you mistakenly noticed the clock. 
"Oh God Angus it's midnight?" I have a test in the morning." You slumped further down the wall you'd been leaning against, covering your head in your hands. "I was already prepared to fail, now I'm gonna be tired and stressed."
"Hey," Angus called, reaching out to pull your hands from your face. "Look, you either know it or you don't. No amount of studying or sleeping now is gonna help. You've already studied so much. I'm sure you'll do fine. Really!"
You sighed and said you knew he was right. But you couldn't understand why you felt so much more unsure than all of your other friends. You arguably studied hardest out of the five of you. You had the same goals. But Tom seemed so certain that his ten-year plan would work out, no matter any set backs. And Kiara was already accepted into her dream position. Angus never complained once about fearing a test or a grade. And Soren God bless him, took it day by day, but he was doing reasonably well for lack of planning. You voiced to Angus how it scared you that life didn't always turn out perfectly despite all your best efforts.
Your friend frowned, and seemed to struggle for a response. Maybe he was too drunk. Or maybe there just was no answer. With the shake of his dark curls Angus decided to wrap an arm around your shoulder. You felt him kiss the crown of your head, something he did when there was nothing left to say. No advice to give. But when he still wanted to show his support. His closeness was a comfort like no other. He knew just how to be near you. And then you realized he was right in a way, before. Angus was pretty good when it came to wordless connection. 
As you realized this, you broke from your leaning against him to cast your eyes to his face. Angus blinked, letting his arm stay draped around you, letting his fingers draw patterns against your shoulder. His lips formed a small smile as Angus watched you consider his features. His eye's stayed easily peering into yours, and somehow it was like you really saw him for the first time.
"I'm afraid I believe you now." You huffed a humorless laugh, drunk enough to speak without thinking. And how Angus was quick enough to register what you meant, you didn't know. But you saw his eyes look into yours with an understanding you'd never uncovered in your three years of friendship. It might've given you a shiver up your spine. Or you might've just been that drunk. But the longer you looked into Angus' eyes and the quieter he remained, the faster your heart started beating. How much had you had to drink?
You couldn't tear your gaze from his, noticing his mouth begin to move to speak, but no words came. Maybe he stalled, or maybe he was still trying to find the right thing to say. Or maybe he was that drunk. But there was something happening to you that hadn't happened in the entirety of your knowing Angus. Your heart rate had never quickened, drunk or not, in his presence. Your mind had never gone so blank, staring into his eyes. You could've gotten into your head about it. But there was no time to think. Because all of a sudden, he was kissing you. 
It seemed to come out of nowhere after all these years. But it seemed so obvious in the moment. His lips stalled on yours as his fingers moved to brush against your neck, the ghost of a clutch. It was as if he couldn't move until you pushed him away or kissed him back. You chose the latter.
You let your lips bruise into his. You let your hand fall above his knee. You let your fingers curl into a grip. And that seemed to give Angus the green light to really kiss you. His lips parted and his hand molded around the back of your neck and his other arm dared to encircle you. You let your free hand find his shoulder. As Angus flexed to pull you closer to him, you leaned in to kiss him fiercer, knocking the guy over in the process.
Angus let both his hands tangle in your hair as you kissed him against the bedroom floor. It seemed your hands and his moved without a thought or a care, aided by alcohol no doubt. Your fingers found themselves dancing along the hem of Angus t-shirt as his traveled to grab at your hips. The record that was playing was skipping and scratching, begging to be turned. But your every focus was on your very best friend right now, how far his tongue was down your throat, how much in a hurry you felt to tear his jeans off. 
You couldn't believe how fast it was all happening. You couldn't quiet process that Angus slender fingers were creeping underneath your skirt. You couldn't seem to kiss him hard enough. It wasn't long before he rolled to pin you against the floor. It wasn't long before he was actually shagging you in the spare bedroom of your friend's townhome. Angus slammed his hips into yours and breathed hard against your neck. You let your nails dig into his shoulder blades as he finished, and strained to catch your breath as he collapsed at your side. 
If you were confused about things before, you were confounded at this point. But it was one in the morning. And you had a test to take. And no time to think of anything else at all. 
"I'm sorry for doubting you earlier." You broke the deafening silence in the room by turning to grin at Angus. He laughed, a real but breathy and exhausted chuckle. Silence settled in again, until you suggested getting up off the floor. At a languid pace, Angus moved to fasten his trousers, and stumbled into a crawl. You managed to move up right faster and decidedly dragged your friend toward the bed in the middle of the room. Sloshed and spent, you each fell asleep rather quickly. But you didn't drift off without a deepening storm of questions brewing in the back of your mind.
///
A knocking stirred you from dreaming. But the harsh early sun from the window caused your eyes to snap shut in a hurry. This bed wasn't yours. Angus was next to you. His curls tickling your cheek. His arm like a heavyweight across your stomach. 
Despite the knocking, your eyes couldn't keep open. Your brain still clung to dreams.
You relished the way your friends body molded against yours. You struggled to recall the last time you felt so calm. So relaxed. It was too easy to fall asleep again.
And then you were shaken to reality once more. 
"Wake up, please-" Angus was whispering your name with urgency. He wasn't at your side, not like before. He was standing. His arms no longer held you close. But his hand clutched your arm, and it stayed there as you sat up to meet his eyes. They were bloodshot. His brows were pushed in, darkening his gaze. His usual faint grin was turned into a frown.
Angus swallowed and dug his fingers into your shoulder. 
"You gotta get up. Tom's dead."
///
Kiara was slumped against the kitchen table when Angus finally got you out of bed. You rushed to her side in a panic, as she kept her head down. Angus stalled near the entry way of the kitchen, hands on his head, breaking out into a pace.
Soren was hanging up the phone on the wall, he'd just called off work for the very first time ever. You wanted to tell him you were proud of him for not having done so sooner. But now wasn't the time. One of you was missing. And he wasn't coming back.
Kiara lifted her head from the table, her once pinned curls now disheveled. Her face was wet with tears as she sucked in a deep breath. 
"Angus can you tell the strangers sleeping on my sofa to get the fuck out, please?" Kiara's voice was hoarse and worn. Soren sat across from you as Angus left the room on a mission, and you begged someone to tell you what the hell was going on. 
Kiara said she opened her door to the police at five this morning. She was Tom's emergency contact, after all. She said he decided to walk home instead of crashing here. He only lived a block away. He should have made it. But he was drunk. And a pickup truck didn't hit their breaks in time. And just like that, none of it mattered. His bed was never slept in. His degree was never earned. His plans out the window. A fifth seat at the pub and dinner table permanently empty. 
Angus returned to announce he'd gotten everyone to leave. But a well-meaning girl straggled in the kitchen behind him, asking the group of you if there was anything she could do for you. Angus turn to yell that she go like he so kindly asked her to in the first place. Soren started sobbing then, slumping from the chair at your side, his blonde locks weighing your lap down. You sat in shock, carding your fingers through his hair. You locked eyes with Angus across the room, watching the way his teeth dug into his lip to keep from crying. You had a lot to talk about. But now wasn't the time.
As you turned to look to Kiara, your eyes fell onto the clock. 
"I- I have a test." Your voice cracked; a cry lodged in your throat that you weren't ready to let escape. 
"What professor? I can help you get an extension, if you want?" Kiara sniffled. 
"I... I don't want that. I want to get it over with. I don't want to leave here but I don't- I don't know." 
"Hey, it's okay-" Kiara reached to rest her hand on your forearm. You struggled to breathe but kept rambling despite yourself. 
"I don't want to put it off, I'll be way more stressed than I already am, but I don't want to leave here, Kiara..." You begged her to help you make sense out of your panic. That's what she was good at. 
"It's okay." She demanded with authority, nodding to silence you. "Go take it. Come back when you're finished? I'd really like for us to all be together tonight." She sucked in a shaky breath and cast her gaze to Angus, who was nodding in agreeance. Soren lifted his head from your lap, face red and eyes glossy. He mentioned needing a change of clothes, barely able speak without breaking down again. 
"I'll take you to campus." Angus gestured toward you. "And I'll grab your stuff, Soren. Stay with Kiara and we'll be back to help clean this shit up and decide what to do next." Angus asked where his friends dorm key was, decidedly designating himself the errand runner. 
Kiara steadied her breathing and thanked him, Angus was always clear minded in crisis. Then she announced that she planned to call Tom's parents. If not to break the news to them before the police, then to find how the family planned to send him off.
Your beautiful hoarse voiced friend demanded you go do your best, as you stood to leave. You gave her a crooked grimace of a smile, every sense clouded with shock and confusion and dismay.
Angus followed you out to his car, where he drove you back to campus in complete silence. Neither of you said a word, neither of you made a sound. There was too much to talk about and not nearly enough of the right kind of time. 
///
Finals Month
You failed that test. Miserably. Maybe you should have waited. But you knew the stress of waiting would've worn on you just as much as the shock had, the morning you took it. That night you spent at Kiara's was quiet. 
That night you all let the sound of dinner cooking echo through the house. That night you all sat around the living room, trying not to fixate on the spot on the couch where Tom usually sat with his legs crossed. That night Angus held your hand, and the way it usually would've brought you comfort was then matched with conflict. Still, you watched as his fingers tapped against your knuckles and clung to his grip for all it was worth. Despite the way your nerves danced on end, you held his hand. Despite the missing friend, the rest of you sat together. 
When you found out you failed the test the next day, you weren't surprised. But you were motivated to get more serious than ever. You only stopped studying the rest of the week, to make meals. And when you finished the first round of finals, you let dance class be your reward.
Kiara was there at the studio, but she wasn't dressed for it. She only wanted to wait up to give you a lift to the pub after, having called you all to plan a meeting this evening. As dancers flooded into the building, you thanked Kiara for coming to watch you, for being there somehow. You promised to dance hard enough for the both of you, that practice.
Then it was time to start the lesson, relishing the way the music pulsed through the floor. You'd never been so thankful for a hobby, it came just in time for you to clear your head. As you moved your body to the beat of some Bowie song, it wasn't like you were coming to any grand conclusions. But something about locking in and moving with the music made your mind stop racing all the while. 
And then there was the part of you that savored the compliments you received when you landed a spin or were asked to offer instruction to others. You were really fucking good at this, and you knew it. 
When class was over, you struggled to ride the high of the adrenaline dancing usually gave you. The music stopped and you had no reason left to pound your feet into the ground, nowhere left to direct your grief and sadness and worry.  But then Kiara was boasting about how well you did and sing songing her familiar plea for you to try out for the European competition. The instructor overheard and walked up to encourage you all the same. 
"You really should. Auditions are in a month." The teacher flashed you his coy smile, letting his hand rest on the small of your back. He was like that. But you didn't mind. The thrill you got from his compliments as a leader outweighed the way his flirting could sometimes make you cringe.
"I'll think about it!" You assured, giving Kiara the 'let's get out of here' look. 
///
At your usual pub, Angus and Soren were sat in silence, each casting despondent glances toward the table. A chair was empty between them. Funny how hard this kept getting. How often you were reminded that Tom was gone, and how shuddering it was to realize he wasn't coming back. You didn't realize how slowly grief worked. How every new day a creeping mourning swallowed your mind more wholly than the last.
Once seated, you flagged down a waiter for some drinks and frowned when Soren asked how your class went. You didn't really want to talk about it. It didn't seem important at all, all you could think to mention in the company of your friends was how one was gone. Wasn't that so fucked up?
"His mom called today. She says the funeral is tomorrow." Kiara came right out with it, causing everyone to cast their eyes toward her. She hadn't mentioned the phone call she had with Tom's parents when you all reconvened that night. No one had said much of anything at all, that night. 
"What the fuck?" Soren spat. Tom was from Alaska. None of you had time to plan to be at a funeral in Alaska in less than 24 hours. 
"This morning, she told me they had family in town for some other reason. And want to just 'get it over with' so, fuck us, I guess." Kiara released a shaky breath, turning to thank a waiter who slid glasses onto your high-top table. 
"We can do something for him, just us." Angus spoke up, arms crossed tight around his body. He looked up for the first time since you got here and looked right at you. You smiled, glad to see him, content with his latest idea. Angus smiled back and kept his steady brown eyed gaze on yours. And for one fleeting moment you forgot you were being swallowed whole by sadness. But just a moment.
"Yeah. We should have a memorial. Anything you want me to bring?" Soren sat up, nodding over and over at the idea, glad for a progressive plan in his friend's honor.
"A bunch of fuckin' weed. It's what he would've wanted." Kiara laughed. And so did the rest of you.
The rest of the hour you spent drinking was full of a little more hope than any of you had felt in the past few days. You managed a few laughs from each other in the midst of planning a memorial. Through giggles, you all strived to turn conversation lighter. There was an unspoken chugging toward ending your hang out on the semblance of a high note. And you understood why. But something felt so wrong about laughing. Something felt so shameful about droning on about school, with each other. Didn't they feel that? How couldn't they? Would bringing this up kill the mood for better, or for worse?
You didn't know how to conduct yourself the longer you thought about it. Suddenly the whole world and the meaning of life stretch out before you and started to muddle together to fill you with dread. 
"Hey." Angus voice was closer than before. You realized your friends were all getting up, and the dark eyed boy was standing beside the stool you sat in. "Hey, come on." Angus rose his finger to your temple and gave it a couple taps. That meant it was time to focus on something else entirely. Time to get out of your head. You nodded and stood to join him as he walked, watching the others head into the foggy night, holding the door open for you.
"It's the last Friday of the month you know." Angus spoke to you gently, his reminder catching you off guard. You didn't really know what to expect, from Angus now. You didn't really know what you expected from yourself, either. 
"Oh, yeah."
"Do you... want me to come over?" He seemed to worry. The lanky brunet shifted the weight between his feet and let either of his eyes dart between yours. You saw his breath in the fog of the misty evening. You couldn't imagine ever telling him no. 
"It's the last Friday of the month. You always come over. I just... almost forgot this time." You admitted. There had been a lot going on. And you hadn't really been paying attention to the calendar. 
"Did you... forget? Or..."
"I forgot. Come on, let's go." You spoke confidently because you were telling the truth. But you realized what he'd alluded to... having recently fucked without acknowledging it in anyway. And you were not ready to have that conversation. 
Angus rose his brows, shrugged his shoulders and decidedly stepped in time with you. You'd hoped he'd start talking about something else. But he didn't. He let an awkward silence weigh itself between you as he drove you to your dorm. Angus didn't speak the whole ride there. And neither did you. But he drove you home, and followed you in. And that counted for something, right?
Silence followed you each to the sofa, where you sat on the edge, staring at the blank telly screen. 
"Should we watch something?" Angus finally called, leaned back against your decorative pillows with his arms crossed tight. 
"I dunno." You realized. It was later than usual. Your roommate was asleep. You weren't sure how to act, alone with Angus now.
"Put on an album, maybe?" He suggested. His voice sounded light years away. And you couldn't figure out if it was because he was sat so far back. Or if he was upset with you. Or if you were simply starting to lose your mind.
"I dunno." You repeated. The upsettingly familiar weight of silence crept between the pair of you once more for what felt like a lifetime. 
"We really should talk about it. Shouldn't we?" Angus spoke up, voice breaking up your minds spiral of thoughts that had been getting you nowhere. 
You truly didn't know. There was too much happening you hadn't had time to process. A thousand new truths and realities danced around your brain, seeping down to quicken your heart rate. Even if you should've, you couldn't talk without crying. You actually couldn't help that tears started to pool in your eyes now, feeling demanding to free itself from within you. 
Your elbows met your knees and your hands blocked out the light of the room. You tried to steady your breathing with a deep intake of air. But cries were all that released out, despite your attempt to bay your overwhelm. 
You felt him shift at your side. Angus was up. You sat trying to pull yourself together as you heard Angus move about the room. Suddenly you sensed the telly was switched on and the lights were off.
"I'm sorry. Come here. I'm sorry." Angus called, his weight shifting the sofa once more. "We'll just watch whatever is on. I'm sorry." His hands grabbed to move you back toward him. Angus pulled you to rest at his side, and you couldn't help but accept the invitation. You rose your feet from the floor and buried yourself beside him, sniffling away your tears. Angus held you tighter than you ever recalled him having done before. Angus carded his fingers through your hair, and apologized again. Wasn't this enough? You wondered. Couldn't the pair of you just settle together without words? The more intently you latched against his form, the more purposefully Angus seemed to hold you. Wasn't that all either of you needed to know right now?
But he wouldn't stop apologizing. 
"It's okay." You replied, pulling your face away from Angus' shoulder to meet his eye. Your friend wore a look of consternation, jaw clenched, brows furrowed. There was clearly so much he wanted to say. But he didn't. He just shook his head of curls, and pressed his lips together, casting his eyes to his lap. You brought a set of fingers to his jaw, turning his head to face yours. 
"I promise, it's okay." You said again, nodding and letting your thumb brush across the apple of his cheek. You watched your friend of many years debate saying what was clearly on the tip of his tongue. You waited for Angus to stop shaking his head and just come out with it already. He'd been wondering if you should talk. And if he wanted too, he should've. Right?
"I just... I really want to kiss you again." Angus said, like he was certain to be condemned for admitting so. You felt your mouth try to grin despite the way your lips anxiously pursed.  You watched the way Angus searched your expression for any kind of reaction. But you didn't give him much time before you leaned in to brush your lips against his. This kiss was delicate. This kiss was slow. Your hands did not wander. But you each shared the moment earnestly, for reasons you still weren't ready to uncover.
When Angus stalled to break your connection, he stayed close. His gaze was steady on your lips, as if he were trying to figure out why they were just pressed against his own. But you just couldn't talk about it tonight. So instead, it was your turn to pull Angus close, as you leaned back into the pile of throw blankets. You held Angus' head of curls against your chest as he decidedly let himself relax there. 
You didn't know what show was playing. You didn't know what time it was, or when you both fell asleep. You didn't hear Angus leave the next morning. And you didn't know what you were going to do about the way his leaving broke your heart a little more than it'd already had been.
///
You spent the weekend working. Cleaning houses a couple days a week was enough to keep money in your pockets, especially if you had appointments in the rich neighborhoods. You blasted music through each house, and scrubbed to the beat. Like dancing, this was therapy. Every time you remembered Tom was dead, you'd scoured the grout a little harder. Every time you remembered the way Angus dug his fingers into your hips, and how much you liked it, you vacuumed with more gusto. Every time you remembered how poorly the results of your latest finals had been, you turned up the music.
Then came the memorial your friends set up.
It was perfect. You burned a fire in the pit out back, shared a couple joints, and went through old pictures. Each photo unlocked a memory someone had a story about. Kiara found a few flowers to plant around the evergreen near the corner. Flowers that would grow back every year. For Tom. Angus didn't say much that night. And you didn't either. And you could tell the other two noticed. 
///
"Claire is finally completely moved in!" Kiara chirped. She sat across the dance floor with you, stretching her fingers to meet the tips of her toes. The townhouse she bought with her cousin in mind was finally home sweet home for both girls. "You'll have to meet her! Angus and Soren already have, I called them to help move a few heavier things."
"Yeah, sounds good." You struggled to respond, only half listening. Your brain was busy focusing on the way your body worked to stretch out every imperfection, every negative thought and feeling. But the way Kiara called your name next forced your undivided attention.
"Look, I get that things have been fucked up recently. You know I know that." Your friends voice shook a little, and a pain rang through your chest at the sound. She lost a friend too. "But you've been especially weird. What's going on, huh?" Kiara sounded almost angry. But then you recognized it was simply hurt spilling over. And you'd been caught. And you couldn't brush her off. Not when she was looking at you like that.
"It's just..." You breathed in, struggling to know where to start, totally unprepared to have been put on the spot here at the studio. And then your instructor was calling everyone to get ready for class. Thank God.
"Later, okay?" You stood, extending a hand for Kiara to grab. She did so and shrugged her way to the middle of the dance floor with a puzzled expression ever glued on you. And that's how it stayed all night. She watched your face for a crack in its resolve. You just danced. You turned every 'what if' away from your mind and let the music flood your system. You ignored Kiara's curious glances and danced like your life depended on it.
When the hour was up and the group was heading out, Kiara made a beeline for you. But so did your instructor.
"Stay later?" He beamed, nodding your way as he walked off, having already decided for you it seemed. 
"I can wait up for you!" Kiara lifted her brows in a hopeful manner, stalling to put her shoes back on. 
"I don't know how long I'll be." You realized. Halfway trying to get her to give up, and halfway telling the truth. You knew Kiara was simply trying to check in with you. But if you hadn't even been ready to talk to Angus about everything, it sure didn't feel right to bring it all up to Kiara on a whim.
"I don't mind waiting. We could go for drinks or something. I just think-"
"Kiara... no. Please, I honestly can't do this tonight. Not with you." You spoke a little too quickly, a little too fiercely. You immediately regretted shutting her out as the words spilled from your mouth. And then you watched your friends face turn into a grimace.
"Don't be cunty to me when all I'm trying to do is be there for you." Kiara spat back before bending down to pick up her shoes. 
"Ki, I'm sorry-" You hurried to plea as she began to turn for the door. 
"I'll call you when I'm less pissed off." She waved her hand for you to stay back, to stop following her toward the door. As she began to push out of the exit, she stalled to turn back and say one last thing. "No, actually, you need to call me when you get over yourself." And with that she was gone. And she was right. But you had absolutely no time to process that interaction before your instructor was snapping for your attention. 
"You girls seem close." The man teased with a twisted sort of smile. You let out a huff of a laugh, uncertain how to otherwise respond to this man you knew absolutely nothing about outside of his dance credentials. He could kick higher than anyone you knew. And he always got a little too into the salsa, no matter his partner. 
"Anyway, you know we're all dying for you to nail next month's audition for the traveling team. I wanted to share some pointers with you, if you're serious about try outs?" The man reveled, smiling as he waited for you to respond. The studio was so quiet without the chatter from the others. Without the thuds from their feet parading across the floor. 
"Yeah, that would be so generous of you." You nodded. With your finals having gone horrifically so far, your newly forming plan was to nail this audition, hedge your bets on your newfound talent to land you a decent career while you were young and able. 
For the next half hour, as Chopin's Nocturne No. 2 filled the room, your instructor was straightening your posture after spins. You ignore the way his hands lingered at the bend of your waist. He watched you glide from one movement to the next, praising what you got right and coming over to correct your mistakes. He turned your head in the right direction. He moved your arms to fan out more evenly. He let his fingers trail across your spine as he rambled about how important visible strength was to the judges.
"You'll want to be certain of your timing. And you'll have to be confident in every little flex of your finger." The man hummed, "But if you're looking to nail down a yes for your audition now," He said, reaching out to move you a little too forcefully toward your mark, his grasp remaining. "There is one thing you could do."
Oh hell no.
"Fuck you." You hissed, shoving the instructor's hands away from your hips and shuddering at the realization of his implication. Watching the man's face fall into a frown when he realized you couldn't be so easily persuaded gave you a new set of chills.
"Let me be frank. If you don't sleep with me, I won't vote for you, and you need each judges vote to get in." As he spoke, he reached a bold hand toward you. There was no question in your mind to hesitate before you extended your own set of digits to slap across his face.
"How fucking dare you." You spat, moving in a hurry to collect your things. Your shoes were still off and you dropped your sweater on your way out the door. But there was no chance in hell you were turning back for it. All you could do was sprint toward the main road, desperate for a cab. 
This was all so fucked. You felt like you had absolutely nothing left to hold out hope for. You were failing school. You were pretty certain you'd ruined things with Angus because of a stupid drunken hook up. Kiara was pissed at you. Tom was dead. And you just had your only outlet for all this shit ruined by that creep of an instructor. 
You couldn't stop thinking of the last thing you heard Tom declare. How he was so ready to graduate and get the cat he'd always wanted and a job of his dreams. How he had it all planned out, and how you knew it'd been going well enough to likely come together the way he'd hoped. But it was all for nothing. And here you were, living some actual Shakespearean level nightmare. Why were you the one spared by fate? The one without a stich of the future figured out for the better. It wasn't fucking fair, for you to keep this farce of a life in crippled traction. It wasn't fair for Tom to be dead. You couldn't even successfully catch a cab. The road was bare of traffic.
But you weren't left stomping down the pavement long before a set of headlights blinded your vision.
"What the hell are you doing?" Soren's recognizable lilt came booming from beyond his cranked down pickup window. You stopped in your tracks, squinting to see his car stalling near the sidewalk just before you. "Get in here!"
You weren't going to argue, this late, this cold. You must've looked a sight, shoeless and tear stained. Soren's passenger seat was cluttered, but it didn't take him long to toss the books and papers to the back seat.
"Where the fuck are you coming from? Why are you crying?"
"Cause life is fucked up Soren." You sniffled, finally putting your shoes on. Your friend started to drive off then, but wouldn't stop asking what happened or if you were okay. 
"I'm fine. Thank you for the rescue."  
He explained that he was coming home from work. He asked if he should take you home, or to Angus' dorm. And that made a new spring of angry hot tears pool in your gaze. It was all you could do to breathe steadily, before shaking away your emotion to finally answer your friend.
"I'm so sorry. It's just been a really shit day. And that's really saying something lately isn't it?" You laughed, despite yourself, and so did Soren. Though his eyes stayed curiously drifting from the road to your slump to the right of him.
"Kiara and I had a weird fight. And then I quit dance class. And I left my favorite sweater there." You whined, ultimately deciding you owned someone an explanation. And Soren had already accepted you in his ride in your sorry state. 
"We can turn back! Do you want to get-"
"No." You demanded. "The instructor guy is a creep. I never want to see him again. And I don't want to see Angus. I just want to go home. Please."
Soren spoke your name lowly, begging to know more. But you couldn't. You just shook your head and thanked your friend again for the lift.
///
Claire
Kiaras cousin was a tall, sharp-witted model of a lawyer. She sat way to close to Angus on the loveseat, knees brushing. And he laughed way too hard at her jokes. It made you sick to watch the pair of them chuckle over a bottle of wine. What could they possibly have to laugh about? He was a brooding stick figure of a college student. And she was this blonde bombshell of an older woman. The pair of them colluding didn't make sense to you.
With the roll of your eye's you fled the living room for the kitchen, finding Kiara. She'd just finished perfecting another well made dinner. 
"Hey." You cautioned meekly, finding your friend shutting the oven door. The room was warm from the heat of the appliance. The air was thick with the scent of spices and herbs. Kiara turned to you with a faint smile, stalling for you to do the talking. And you knew you needed to.
"I'm really sorry I never called, like you asked. And I'm sorry for being so nasty that night." You frowned, meaning every word. You hated that your upset had spilled out into sharp words Kiara never should've received. 
"I'm sorry I called you cunty." Your friend shrugged before letting out a small chuckle. "But you can't keep shutting us out, babe."
Kiara's statement caught you off guard. You hadn't really realized that's what you'd been doing. But it was. You still hadn't given Angus any chance to talk. You yelled at Kiara when she asked what was wrong. And you brushed off Soren's concern when he gave you a lift home. But then a sudden irritation rose within you. 
"I guess I don't know what there is to say that you all don't already know. I guess I don't understand why Angus is laughing in the living room and why we're all pretending to have a nice dinner like everything is fine when it isn't."
"We're all still hurting," Kiara spoke your name, imploring for you to hear her. "What's so hard to understand about wanting to achieve some levity together?" Kiara sounded angry again, angrier than you. Angry at you.
"Why can't you let me be upset?" You quizzed, chest hot with misunderstanding.
"Why can't you let me move on?" Kiara demanded to know, voice full of emotion.
Just then Soren breezed in, setting his bag of comic books and weed on the kitchen island, asking how he could help set up for dinner. Kiara asked him to grab everyone drinks. Then she told you to carry out a pan of food to the table. Her tone was short and she wouldn't look you in the eye. You did as she asked, anger bubbling and brewing deeper in the pit of your stomach all the while. 
You ate dinner, asking Claire about Chicago. You pretended not to grimace at the sound of her shrill run on sentences. You reminded yourself your upset shouldn't be directed at this poor stranger of a woman. But it was hard not to seethe when she was sat in the fifth seat at the table. You and Soren each shared a glance or two of annoyance at Claire's hogging the nights conversation. 
When she wasn't speaking, Angus was asking her more questions. You watched him hang on her every word. You kept hoping he'd turn and give you those looks. You watched his fingers drum on the table, and wished his hands were holding yours. You realized then, just exactly how fucked you were. And how no matter when or how you had the inevitable conversation with Angus- that everything was different now between you two. When he started rambling about his thesis having something to do with ancient Roman law, you excused yourself again. 
Thinking fast, you gathered everyone's finished dinner plates to take to the sink, the perfect leave. Your anger dissolved into exhaustion by the time you reached the kitchen, you were getting a little sick of your own bullshit. You were growing weary over how out of control your life and emotions seemed these days. 
As you arranged the dirty dishes in the sink, something caught your eye from beyond the patio door windows. Through the never-ending fog of this San Fransico spring, a small grey blur. You turned your attention fully to the backyard, beyond the firepit, past the chairs. A slender grey cat was biting at the flowers Kiara planted for Tom. 
"Uh, guys." You called out for someone else to come and see this because there was no way they'd believe you if you simply told them. "Guys you have to come see this." You called again, a laughter breaking up your announcement. 
"What's wrong?" Angus came sauntering in, you heard him, but you didn't dare turn from the sight of the animal in the backyard. "Oh... my God." Angus approached, stalling at your side near the patio doors. He let out a chuckle too, disbelief painting a smile across his face that reached his almond eyes. You turned to look right at him. And he turned to look right at you. And for a moment you weren't sure what sight dazzled you more. The others came rushing in, pointing and laughing and standing in awe before the patio doors. The laughter that was born from shock kept erupting more and more between the four of you, until Soren was howling, and Angus was coughing and Kiara was nearly breathless.
"I don't get it. What's funny?" Claire asked, looming near the kitchen island with a look of perturbed wonder. Maybe Kiara was right. It was time to let some kind of light in.
///
"Open the dooooooor." Angus whined from outside your dorm, chanting the same thing over as you rushed to hide paper in your hands. It was a letter from your university.
You failed your finals. You failed this entire semester. 
Shoving the letter between your mattress and box spring, you clamored to unlock the door, letting your best friend inside. 
"Geeze, do you really have to lock all three locks on your door? I stood there freezing for hours it felt like, coulda died in that hallway."
"For somebody who came from a winter state you sure have a shit tolerance for temperature." You joked. But it had been a chilly spring. "I'm not taking my chances with the serial killers and the impatient East Coasters." 
Angus stood with his hands in his jacket pockets and that familiar brooding smirk on his face you were so damn endeared to. His smile was always a good sign. But still, you were suspicious of your friend's presence, still on uncertain terms.
"Want to come do laundry with me?" 
Finally, something normal. A usual request from Angus. A routine you could follow without question or wonder. Just a couple of spin cycles and whatever bullshit you each thought up to ramble over to pass the time. With a nod you grabbed your hamper and followed Angus to his car. The laundromat was a five-minute drive, one you spent turning the radio dials while Angus bitched about traffic. 
Inside the laundromat, rows of machines lined the walls and only a couple patrons stood separating whites from darks and folding fresh sheets. Some folk songs crackled from the speakers, but the whir of the dryers and washers drowned out the guitars. You each got down to business; loading your clothes into separate machines and lingering to wait on one another to head across the street. A diner waited, windows flooded with flyers and adds. 
Angus got you each a coffee and you ordered some fries. He mentioned going with Soren to a wedding in New York in a couple weeks. Yammering about summer plans. Angus considered the idea of tracking down his old professor when they got over there. You listened. You said you didn't have any plans. You clawed through topics in your head to keep up the facade of normalcy. But nothing could stop the silence that branched from the space in between you and your very best friend. You watched his lanky finger steal a fry from your basket without asking. You sat biting your lip instead of reprimanding him. 
"I took Claire on a date. Two nights ago." 
You nearly choked on the coffee you sipped to suppress your jitters. 
"Claire?" You rang, shooting Angus a look of disbelief. 
"I really like her. And she somehow really likes me." Angus reasoned, holding out a hand as if to pass along this information. You sat, playing back his sentence over and over in your head. Playing back the way they laughed together the night you met her. She seemed nice enough... But...
"I was going to wait and ask you... I don't know, for permission, I guess? But then I kind of figured if you wanted to talk about what happened with us, you would have by now. So that must mean you don't have anything to say, right? So, I asked Claire on a date. But then I felt like a real asshole about not telling you. So this is me... asking one last time. Do you want to talk about it? Do you care?" Angus ended his rambling admission by boring his dark eyes right into yours, and waiting. 
You sat, playing his words over and over. You sat remembering the warmth that filled your every cell when he first kissed you. You sat remembering how he said he wanted to do it again. You sat wondering why the fuck your body and your brain refused to function as a team, failing you from opening your mouth at all now. But if you couldn't do it... maybe Angus could.
"Do you? Care?" You dared to quiz the guy, your eyes darting between his, searching for understanding. 
"Wha- Why do-" Angus stuttered, his already furrowed gaze growing more perturbed by the second. "Are you listening? Do you hear me at all? I need to know how you feel." Angus leaned against the sticky table, as if his intense eye contact would get the answer he wanted out of you.
"I hear you." You breathed, nerves buzzing across your entire being.
"But are you listening?" 
"I can't stop you, Angus!" You finally burst. Anger pushed itself through your body until words formed against your better judgment. "If she makes you happy go for it. Hell, bring her over for dinner next Friday. It's the last one of the month."
Your friend sat obviously perplexed across from you. It was like he wanted you to tell him not to do it. But you couldn't stop Angus from living his life. You barely had control over your own these days. All you could muster up the ability to speak was a weak approval, despite the way your heart descended to your stomach.
///
"Here you are, dude." Soren handed you a coffee with a proud grin, like it was the first one he'd ever made. Your friend should've been proud, you ventured. His free spirit got the better of him years before now. He seemed to be finding his groove.
"Thanks sir. How'd you do on finals?" You really wanted to know his answer, knowing he'd worked so hard this year. Soren said he passed with flying colors. You said you knew he would. He said they'd all gotten together at Kiara's to celebrate. He said the cat came back. He said he really didn't think Angus and Claire made a good match at all. He wondered why you weren't there.
"I guess I wasn't invited. I haven't been a very good friend to Ki, lately." You shrugged. You knew you'd found yourself in this position by your own faults. But it still stung to know they'd gathered without you. 
"Oh. I thought it was an Angus thing." Soren shrugged. "He was real nervous about how you'd react to his asking Claire out and all."
"Yeah." You responded, searching Soren's gaze and watching him realize another customer was coming in. He smiled a sweet smile and hurried over to his register, giving you a wave from there. You shouted a 'see ya' on your way out.
///
You slaved over your stove the night Claire was meant to join your monthly get together. This all felt like a very bad idea. But Angus was your best friend. And you really did want to support him in whatever steps he put an effort into taking, in life.
Granted the two weeks they had been together were the longest of your college career. Tom was still dead, and Kiara was still cold with you. She let you come over and accepted your apologies. But she remained despondent the whole time you stayed, clearly in her head about things. But you understood what that was like. And weren't keen to push her further. 
Then your guests were here. And you felt even more like this was a very bad idea. But you played off your anxieties by deciding to pretend to be the best damn host on this side of the campus. You served Claire first and kept her glass of wine full and asked all about her life. Angus passed you several tight lipped smiles and subtle thank yous. You'd never met any girl he'd ever taken out. There had been a few, but none stuck around long enough. 
You could tell Claire really liked Angus. And he definitely deserved to be adored in the way the brilliant blonde was willing to adore him. But there was just something that undeniably clashed about their pairing. Maybe it was the fact she was a few years older, sleeker, more mature. Maybe it was how callow Angus seemed at her side. Or maybe it was just you.
When the night winded down and the girl offered to help you clean up, Angus went to the bathroom. And that's when a certain veil lifted. The pantomime of the evening enjoyed its intermission when Claire toted in a couple empty glasses to your sink. 
"I don't think I like you very much." She came right out with it. And not in a vindictive tone either. Just an honest one, and you respected that. 
"I see." You straightened your posture.
"I mean, you seem nice enough but... I don't like you around Angus. I'm sure if I ask, you'll lie but, have you two... ever..." The woman lifted a brow, drying off a couple plates as you rinsed some others. Passing a couple utensils through the water, you considered very carefully how to respond.
"Why should it matter? If nothing ever came of it?" You quizzed, shrugging your shoulders. The blonde at your side heaved a sigh through a gentle smile, continuing to help you clean up.
"Well, at least you didn't lie."
Angus swooped into the room soon after, suggesting it was time for himself and his date to take their leave. After a few minutes of pleasantries, they started out. But not before Angus flashed you an expressive lift of his brow, curl of his lip, as Claire turned to leave. He asked so much in that one glance, a talent of his you'd always been fascinated by. 
You flashed him a wide eye'd shake of your head, there was quite literally no time to talk about everything that had just happened tonight. But you hoped your face said it all just as well.
///
Soren sat across from you, hunched over his homemade lunch. You ordered a coffee from him before he took his break and scurried out to the tables to join you for a bit.
You swatted a strand of long sandy hair away from his meal and asked how he'd been. He mentioned being glad school was over for a bit. He mentioned the cat that kept showing back up at Kiara's patio door. He was convinced it was Tom, coming to visit. He knew it was crazy to think it, but he swore by his belief. He said Kiara thought he was nuts for it. He said she'd been grumpy lately anyway, cold. You selfishly hoped this meant she wasn't exclusively upset permanently with you. That she was just going through it.
"And don't even get me started on Angus and Claire." Soren scoffed, taking a bite of lunch. 
"Oh, please get started." 
"She's so possessive. Protective I could understand but she's possessive to a fault. He can't even bring up girls he works with, without Claire coming unglued." 
Well, that explained why you hadn't heard from your very best friend in a couple very long weeks. You phoned him the day after that fateful dinner. He never answered or returned the call. You hadn't even seen his car on the campus lot, as it began to empty out. Summer had officially begun, and most everyone was graduated or off coping with the last semester before the next one kicked off.
"He says hi, by the way." Soren rolled his eyes. "Shouldn't have to be the damn messenger. Jealousy confounds me." Your friend flared his nostrils and shook his head before taking another bite of his sandwich. You couldn't help but chuckle at your usually laid-back friend's fiery disposition.
"Thanks for filling me in. Wanna share some of that cookie?" You shrugged, changing the subject. There was nothing you could do to change the way things were. There was nothing more to say. You were beginning to cope with the fact that the morning Tom died, everything changed. Everyone was different for better or for worse. Life was different now. And you were beginning to cope with that fact.
///
Today was the day of auditions. You sure as hell were not about to show up and dance. But you couldn't stop staring at your calendar- and the note you'd left there ages ago to remind yourself about try outs. A fleeting wonder crossed you mind, about showing up anyway. A fleeting consideration pressed with in you, for the outcome if you were to dance your ass off to try and earn a spot you knew you'd never land- just to have the last laugh.
When the phone started to ring, your roommate answered. But it wasn't long until she was twirling the cord closer to you, heading to take over the sofa.
"You have a competition or something today, don't you?" Angus voice crackled through the telephone line. You leaned against the kitchen counter, eyes still glued to your calendar, and huffed a laugh. What an unexpected voice to hear, cutting through your what if's, today.
"No I uh, I changed my mind." You revealed. You hadn't told anyone what happened, not really. You felt like you had more pressing issues to consider, back then. And now you weren't sure if any of it still mattered or not.
"Oh." Angus replied in a shock that nearly took you by surprise. "Well in that case, want to go see a movie?"
He was outside your dorm honking ten minutes later. 
"I'm putting my shoes on, Geeze!" You hollered out the window. Angus yelled for you to hurry up, laying on his horn all over again. Your roommate started yelling soon after, demanding you get the hell out before Angus honking drove her bonkers.
"It's not my fault you called me so last minute!" You shouted, jogging to hop in his passenger seat. 
"It starts in like four minutes!" Angus whined to your amazement. He was such a pain in the ass sometimes. But then you smiled and realized that you hadn't been worried about something so trivial concerning Angus in a couple months. You'd missed the hell out of this. But... why was it happening now?
"Why did you call me to invite me to a movie if you thought I had a competition today?" 
"I called to wish you luck. And to apologize for not calling sooner. I've been pretty confused."
"Soren told me Claire's been a bit... territorial. You know that night at dinner while you were in the bathroom she told me she didn't like me?" You sighed a humorless laugh.
"Yeah." Angus scoffed a hopeless chuckle, breaking the speed limit all the while. You cursed at him to slow down before he went on to say, "She gave me an ear full that night too. And I wanted to respect her worries, ya know? Show her she had nothing to worry about. But then her worries turned into accusations, and the past two weeks have been constant interrogations with her. So, I broke up with her last night."
"Oh my God?"
Somehow, you actually didn't see that coming. Not so soon, anyway. Not so abruptly. While there wasn't much new information to process, the news still made your brain whir. A few billion what if's and what now's bubbled into the back of your mind while you realized the turn your evening had taken.
"I'm sorry she was rude to you. And I'm sorry I've been distant." Angus furrowed his brow and lowered his tone, speaking very seriously now. All the while he whipped his car into the movie theater parking lot and turned off the engine. "Now get out, we've already missed the previews. this is a Burt Renyolds film we're dealing with, go, go!"
"Oh my God, okay!" You hurried, slamming the car door shut. "No. Hey! Slow down it is not that serious." You remarked, following orders but refusing to jog at the speed Angus darted toward the theater doors.
Two tickets to The Longest Yard and one massive bucket of popcorn later, you were back to normal. Angus settled at your side and swatted at your hand when you reach for the popcorn at the same time as him. You plucked a kernel to toss at him in offense. He sighed and lifted a couple pieces to your lips as a silent apology. You chuckled and relaxed and thanked God for the turn of events. 
You learned not to take it for granted. It could very well be the last evening of its kind you got to share with Angus. Death and dates and all kinds of reasons kept getting in the way of normalcy for the pair of you. Maybe that's what adulthood was. Maybe that was life. But so was this. And for that you were grateful.
The ride home was short, and filled with chatter about the film. And when Angus pulled into an actual covered parking space instead of haphazardly in front of your building; you felt hopeful that meant he would stick around.
"Wanna come in for a bit?" You offered, glad for the way you'd been able to banter so easily tonight. Longing to stretch out your visit, craving connection with Angus for longer than a few weeks now.
"I gotta meet up with Claire to give her some stuff back. I owe her that much." Angus stretched out his words, leaning his head against the back of the seat, turning to give you a sorry smile. You could tell he didn't want to go, not really. But he was right.
"I've just really missed you." You decidedly shrugged, looking right at him. Not even just the way he touched you that night. But his well-meaning laugh and his stories about what he'd been reading. His looks for you to decode across rooms. Him.
Angus nodded, that brooding grin of his forming across his features. He reached a hand across the bench of his front seat, tracing a finger against your thigh. You watched his hand ghost to stall on your knee- before you held out a slacked arm, scooting closer all the while. You needed him to wrap his arms around you, no matter what that meant. No matter what he felt when he did it. You needed him to. 
And he did. Angus welcomed your embrace with his own, holding you tight in place for a moment before his head buried into the crook of your neck. You weren't even thinking when you moved your hands to brush his hair back. Angus moved as you did, his hold on you stayed steady, but his eye blinked up to meet yours.
And then you realized it was happening again. Your heart began to hammer, you knew he could feel it. Your brain buzzed with thoughts of only Angus. Your eye's longed to gaze more intently into his. Your hands wandered to consider the curve of his spine, the strength of his core.
"I've missed you too." Angus whispered, as his arms loosened, his hands trailing to the bend of your waist. 
The kiss that followed was fierce. Your teeth clashed with Angus' and your breath caught in your throat. His fingers gripped to grab at your shirt, yanking you toward him. Your knees settled on either side of his hips. Your nails scratched along his torso before landing on his belt. It was just like before, neither of you could move fast enough. Every move seemed detrimental. But no touch lingered long enough to drive you crazy. You wouldn't let it. You needed to get to the point.
Angus picked up on your desperate pace, aiding in undoing his belt while his lips brushed along your neck. A quick shuffle of fabric was the last step to take before you were easing into Angus' lap completely as possible. You were sober enough this time to think to lock eyes as you rocked against him, shivering at the sight of Angus slack jawed enjoyment. 
He let one hand brush across your cheek as his other clawed at your thigh, pulling you close as possible. You watched in awe as Angus stuttered a curse. You moved with intention, and he did too. Trailing his fingers from your face, to your chest, to the very middle of you- adding immensely to your pleasure. It was your turn to stammer curses and struggle to catch a steady breath. It wasn't long before you both reached your peak. But it felt like forever. It felt like all of time and space had collided to stall, as you shagged Angus in the front seat of his car. You relished every flame of feeling. You savored the way his eyes stayed locked with yours. You reveled in the smile that turned to corners of his lips upward. You had really missed him.
Quiet filled the car as you slinked up and away, falling into a puddle nearer the passenger seat. Angus cleared his throat, moving to fasten his trousers. 
"Now what?" He asked in a hush. 
"You gotta go. Right?" You shrugged. That was that. Right? 
/// 
The Summer
Kiara followed her internship to Canada for the season. Tom was still dead. You had no dance class. You had just failed your semester. Angus and Soren had left for some wedding in New York. Not that their absence mattered much anyway. Because your best friend hadn't spoken to you since the spontaneous movie night. Since the second more profound and regrettable hook up. Not that you wished you never done it. But that you wished you would have said something different when it was over. Something that didn't make Angus jaw clench as he watched you get out of his car.
Several days passed since you'd heard from Angus. Despite the few times you'd called and the once you'd turned up at his dorm only for his roommates to shrug and say he'd been out all night. Then it was time for the New York trip.
And it seemed unstoppable, the call from your bed to stay there. You had no reason at all to get up. You had nothing to do. Nothing to think about. For days you stayed locked up in your room, completely despondent to any and everything.
Then your roommate knocked persistently enough to stir you from your den. She mentioned her flight for Japan was in a couple hours and asked for a ride to the airport. Your bones ached to move, your brain longed for a fresher perspective. So, you decidedly ended your wallowing in your own despair to slip into a change of clothes and drive to the airport.
The drive was refreshingly quiet. The blue of the sky and the air through the windows made you feel free. Made you realize you were not as trapped in that little campus as you felt. Your roommate had been fiddling with the radio dial as you'd considered the great big world beyond her dodge dart.
"Oh my God, hey!" Your roommate chirped over the crackle of a news anchors morning announcements of weather and traffic conditions. "Today is your birthday, isn't it?"
"Holy shit." You realized. "It is." you'd been so lost in the cave you created out of bed sheets that you'd almost lost track of time. Your roommate proceeded to shower you with well wishes, asking if you had any plans. 
You did. Earlier in the year, Angus talked you into going out on this date, having a ball. When you'd each gone through the calendar at the start of the year, you realized each of your birthdays were on the last Friday of either month. Angus said that was too crazy to be a coincidence. He said you needed to make the most of these celebrations. But that was back when things were different. 
"Not sure. After I drop your car off, I'll see where the day takes me."
"About that." Your roommate proceeded to inform you that she wasn't just visiting Japan. She'd decided last minute to move there, start anew. She had a fiancé and a place to go, and an abundance of plans. She wondered if you could leave her car for sale in the school lot and mail her the money. Lots of favors from this one today, you thought. But then...
"How much?" You wondered. Your roommate rambled about how much she paid for it, thinking of selling it for half the price now. 
"I'll buy it." You blurted, surprising yourself even. You'd had funds saved up now with nothing to spend them on. You may as well had started thinking of your new path forward. 
"Oh, that's right," Your roommate realized you'd been without your own transportation for a while now, and said she felt silly for not thinking to offer it to you right away. Once stalled outside the airport you wondered how much money you stashed in your wallet, finding only a couple hundred dollars. Your roommate stuck her hand out as you passed her the bills, but you were shocked when she handed you most of it back. 
"Happy birthday, and thanks for the ride. It was nice bunking with you!"
In the span of a thirty-minute ride you'd been shown a kindness that filled your heart. You'd considered new sets of hope you'd never knew existed. You saw the sun. You gained a car. You turned another year older. 
Driving back to campus, dread threatened to overcome you once more. But it was your birthday damn it. You had to find some way to keep yourself from slipping back into that bed of yours. 
To the cafe, it was. And to your surprise, Soren was there. 
"Happy birthday!" Soren smiled, arms opened wide behind the counter of his job. You chuckled and leaned across the sticky space to hug your friend. He said he'd tried to stop by your dorm this morning but no one answered. He must've arrived there as you left.
"I forgot you were meant to be back so soon." You said.
"My flight landed a couple days ago, Angus stayed to meet up with that old teacher he always talks about." Soren shrugged, going on to gush about the wedding they'd attended. And how much fun the boys had free of studies and schedules, away together. You stood there and listened, happy for Soren on one hand. Hurt by Angus absence all the while.
"Angus didn't say when he'd be back. But I swore I saw his car today. Could've just smoked too much before my shift though." Soren laughed as he poured you a coffee, free of charge. For your birthday, he insisted. You smiled and thanked your friend. Pursing your lips to suppress the surprising amount of emotion that rose within you at how kind everyone was being today. How much you didn't feel like you deserved their kindness.
"Thanks. Have a good shift, friend." 
Your next stop was the market. Your cupboards were bare, you already knew. And now that you were out of your stupor, your stomach ached with hunger. Some dinner, a drink, and a little tiny cake because why the hell not. Whether you deserved everyone else's kindness, you were allowed to make the most of today, right?
The afternoon passed slowly, light turning to dark outside. You considered Soren's story, how he thought he saw Angus' car today. How there was a chance he was back on campus. With a shot in the dark, you rang his dorm with your fingers crossed. No one answered, but you couldn't be too disappointed. He was still on the East Coast, you decided. He would've stopped by today right? If he was back in town, and if he knew it was your birthday, he would've stopped by. 
But then, you knew he knew it was your birthday. And night turned to morning, and he hadn't called. He would've at least called, right? If you hadn't fucked it all up, he would've. If everything hadn't changed, he should have. But all of a sudden it was four in the morning. And the slice of cake you'd saved just in case Angus came around was swiftly sent to the garbage. And the realization that everything was different was followed by the understanding that you didn't have a single thing stopping you from starting all over.
You cleaned up and found your suitcase and started throwing things in. Forming a quick plan, you found a notebook and a pen and hurriedly wrote your friends name on one side and a quick note on the other. Even though you were pissed at Angus, and hurt and confused by the turn your friendship had taken, he still deserved a goodbye.
'i dropped out. might call when i get settled someplace. here is to hoping you'll answer if i do'
It was cutting. It was short. But it was all true, and it wass the best thing you could think up, so hastily. You zipped your bags and threw them in your new back seat. You marched to Angus' dorm and slid the note under his door. You zoomed off campus and felt the weight of all that had happened fall from your chest.
You looked ahead as day light broke on the horizon, and smiled.
///
The Future
For a month, you kept your job cleaning houses, crossing the bridge to the rich neighborhoods as often as you could. You'd found a perfect little flat on the outskirts of a suburb. You even considered applying to some of the shops along the town's strip so you wouldn't have to drive as often.
You'd banked on the kindness of delivery drivers to help you move a bed and a few other furnishings into your new space. You'd decorated with mementos you'd clung to from childhood, and a couple pictures of the four greatest friends you'd ever had. When Tom was still alive, and everyone was carefree. Though all of that had ended, the photos you cherished from before brought you the same happiness you'd felt when the snapshots were taken.
You'd called Soren once or twice. To make sure someone knew you weren't dead. To make sure he was still showing up on time to work and to listen to the plot of whatever comic he was in the middle of reading. If conversation began to drift too far outside of those topics, you'd let your friend know you had to go, but promised to keep in touch.
You were just starting to feel like life made sense. You were just beginning to consider that not all hope was lost. While you were still at a loss for what to hope for, you were beginning to consider that there was a future beyond despair. Maybe it was finally time to call your best friend. Maybe you could talk to him now, without completely losing it...
You kept these thoughts at bay, not daring to let them spin your mind and soul into a depression. You pulled into a gas station, deciding only to occupy your afternoon with trivial things. With easy thoughts and simple tasks. You were allowed to do just that.
Just as you began to lose track of your thoughts in a daydream, leaned against your trunk watching the gas fill- a car screeched recklessly into the gas station lot. A woman carrying a couple of fountain sodas scurried out of the way of the boxy car and nearly dropped her beverages. A couple by standers cursed out the hapless driver as the car continued to skirt crookedly behind yours. You knew that make and model. You knew that scratched passenger door.
Oh, God.
Angus was clamoring from the driver's seat, slamming his door before he stomped up right to your face, yelling for the whole lot to hear.
"You dropped out?" Angus hissed. His dark curls bobbing as he pointed an angry finger your way. You saw a funny little rage in his gaze. And that pissed you off more than you'd already been.
"Oh, you found my note? How long did it take you?" You jabbed. "Three or four days? Week or two?"
"You can't drop out! There is only one year left!" Angus was in awe, waving his hands at you, yelling like there was a bubble between the pair of you he had to shout past to get your attention.
"I'm surprised you're aware of that. Haven't necessarily been keeping track of important dates as of late, have you?" You shot the guy a glare that could have killed him if your eyes were lasers or worse.
"Look, I know. I'm sorry. I am sorry." Angus whined your name, reaching out to grab your arm as you adjusted the gas pump from your car to its holder.
"For what?" You challenged. Because you believed he still hadn't realized how important this last time his absence had been.
"For going M.I.A. For not calling. For... everything. I have missed you, I just-" Angus sighed and cast his eyes down in shame you could feel begin to radiate from him. But ache as your heart might've for him, because it always had, you were far from done being mad.
"You've never missed my birthday before." You rose a brow, a sting filling up your chest that you had to make it so obvious to him. Angus head rose up slow, his downtrodden gaze turned into one of shock horror.
"Oh my God, no." He frowned. "No, no, no- I'm... so sorry," Angus called your name as you rolled your eyes and turned to open your car door. His please for you to stop mixed among a billion sorry's in the span of a minute. His hand stalled on your driver's door, and you stood glaring as Angus began to ramble. "Soren barely knew you'd left. He couldn't help me." Angus explained. "I went all around campus asking if you'd told anyone where you'd gone. So last resort, I drove across the bridge to Miss Julie's to ask if she'd seen you, and finally-"
Mid sentence, your brain whirred. This mother fucker drove an hour and a half across the city to ask a woman whose house you cleaned every other weekend if she'd seen you? Okay, maybe he cared more than you thought.
"And you don't call, you don't write, you leave me a vague ass note like I-"
And then you were pissed again. Because you did call. Angus was the one who left you hanging this last time.
"Angus, we are not doing this here." You swatted at him, breaking his grip on your car door. With a heavy sigh you asked him to follow you to your new little flat. Where you could yell all night long without a lot full of strangers gawking at the pair of you.
Your grip was white knuckled the whole drive home. Your heart was in your throat. There was no getting out of whatever confrontation that laid ahead with you and Angus. This was it.
You parked in your usual spot and marched toward the apartments to the tune of Angus slamming his door. You reached your home in a couple of turns, unlocking the door, and letting it swing open behind you. Angus slithered in as you hurried inside, straight for the bottle of rum on your counter. Finding two glasses in the cupboard, Angus stalled in the middle of your living space and decidedly went on where he left off. 
"Why the hell didn't you tell me about dropping out?" He called your name. His voice was softer than it had been at the gas pump. But his tone was more desperate. You took a sip of your drink, and slid his toward the end of the counter, locking eyes. You moved closer toward where he stood as Angus went on. "Why the hell didn't you tell me what happened with that dance instructor. Shit, you barely told Soren. But he knew. Why won't you talk to me?" Angus brought a hand to his middle, like he was holding in everything from spilling over. His usual brooding expression was downcast more than usual. His hair a little longer. His eyes still your favorite pair. You had really missed Angus.
"I don't know Angus! I don't know what the fuck is wrong with me. I tried so hard to pass finals and I failed harder the more I tried. I gave everything I had to that dance class, and it blew up in my face. And then you... us... I couldn't afford to fuck up anymore. I had to go." You spoke, emotion raising in your voice as you stood sweeping a hand to gesture as you explained.
"You didn't fuck everything up. You can still take summer classes. You can fix it. You can find a new dance class. And I... you didn't fuck us up." Angus declared, speaking clearly but wearing a look as if he may have been unsure of himself. You watched as your friend took a few steps toward the drink you poured him. In the matter of a moment, his taste of rum was gone, and he was shamelessly reaching for the bottle to pour another drink.
"What if what I want doesn't matter?" You started, as he poured. "I tried so hard to pass and I failed. I tried so hard to dance and none of my practicing mattered more than a sexual favor would've. What if... what if I want you? What will the catch be? Because there seems to always be one, with me." You'd never been more clear. 
"Look I wasn't sure what we were going through at first." Angus sighed after sipping his second drink. And then he took a moment to glance about the room, seeming to decide something. "But then I went to that wedding, and I realized exactly what I wanted and how I felt. It's still confusing, you and me. But I want there to be a you and me, okay?" He seemed to mean it. He seemed to really mean what he said. But there was still a look of unnerve painted across his features.
"Angus you forgot my birthday." You reminded, downing the rest of your drink. Cocking his head sorrily, Angus reached for the rest of his rum.
"I know." He said. "And I'm sorry. I was late getting back into town." Angus sighed. "And my mother was in my dorm room when I got back, imagine that surprise-"
"Your mom?" You gasped. In the entire three and a half years you knew Angus, he'd only spoken about the woman twice, and spoken on the phone with her once. She'd never come to visit. As you processed this information you watched Angus' jaw clench, his teeth dig into his lip, his brow darken. 
"Yeah, so my dad... he, uh-" Angus blinked up to the ceiling, unable to hide the tremble in his voice.
"Angus, no."
"I tried to visit him when I was out there, after I met up with Paul. But when I asked to see my dad they said he'd been moved out of the facility for months, moved to some hospital, no one could remember which. And then my flight... And she didn't even tell me he'd been sick. She refused a funeral. And I never even got to say goodbye." Angus spoke like every word tore at his throat. Tears pooled in his eyes, falling when they filled up too much. 
"Why didn't you start with that?" You rang, unable to comprehend how so much loss and hurt could continue to reign over this year. You stepped forward to reach for Angus, grabbing at his arms and moving to smooth back his hair, wiping away the tear drop he missed with his sleeve.
"Because" Angus implored, shockingly ready with an answer. "This has been way too confusing for way too long and I couldn't keep it in any longer." He waved at the space that existed between you and himself, keeping his bloodshot brown eyes lasered to yours all the while. "If I want you, and if you want me, then what's stopping this from happening for us?"
"Because," You began, deciding in this moment to be brutally honest. The most honest you'd been all year. "I'm scared."
Angus shook his head, rejecting your reasoning. 
"You don't think I'm fucking scared too?" He huffed like it was obvious. But it hadn't been to you. "I love you. And that's terrifying. I'm in love with you. Enough to wait for you to say it back, if you want to. But you better only decide against this if you don't want it. You can't let this pass us by just because you're scared."
You struggled to hold back the tears springing into your eyes. You struggle to croak out any response that wasn't a curse. You struggled to wrap your mind around all that had been said. You couldn't help but let a sob escape, too overwhelmed by it all.
And then Angus was crying too, really crying. There was no reason left to hold back, to keep emotions locked down. Everything was out in the open now. Every tattered heartbroken truth had been shared. And there was nothing you could do to make it all better, no way to make sense of it in a flash. But you knew you could wrap your arms around Angus and hold on for dear life. 
When his lips met the crown of your head, you were reminded of every time he'd done so before. You were reminded of every late-night pub crawl and bad first date and mean teacher. You remembered every weekend road trip, every movie night in, every homemade dinner. And then you thought of now. You thought of all the hurt. You thought of all the tension and all the grief and all the looks across rooms shared with Angus. You hadn't a clue how to move ahead with him. You wanted to move ahead, but you just couldn't see how.
You began to push away. You shouldered out from Angus' hold on you and wiped at your eyes with a sleeve. You, gently as possible, moved his hand that clung to your side still. 
"Don't do that. Don't shut me out again." Angus implored; voice still wrought. Eye's still bright with sadness. 
"I know it's not what you want but I don't have any other answer for you right now. I'm sorry about everything too, Angus. I'm so sorry about your dad. But I can't- I don't know. Not yet." You sniffled. 
"This didn't go how I hoped." Angus released a heavy sigh, turning to pace before your kitchen counter. "But I'm gonna do what I said." He pointed at you. "I'm gonna wait and hope you'll give me a chance. I just need to make it clear that I don't want any version of my future to be without you in it. So... whatever you decide... I just love you okay? Do you hear me?" Angus rang. Then you remembered how he asked that same question at the diner. 
"I'm listening. And I hear you. And I'm sorry. Just... give me more time."
Angus left that afternoon with a grin when you asked him to stop back again in a couple days. And you went to bed that night in tears, happy or sad you weren't sure. 
///
A few months had passed since Angus appeared out of nowhere and berated you in the gas station parking lot. He was starting his final year of school. He stopped over most Fridays, and some nights in between. Sometimes Soren came with him, and you'd all stay up past midnight cackling like a band of fools. You'd sent Kiara your new address, and she sent some post cards from Canada. The messages she included were never very long, but she always signed her name with a heart dotting the I. 
On the weekends Angus hung around, he mentioned missing Tom. He mentioned wishing he didn't have to miss Kiara too. Wishing for one more night all together. When Angus hung around, he talked a lot about his studies and the stories from the history books he'd been learning. When he hung around, he'd sometimes end up staying the night. When he left the mornings after, he'd always end up coming back around.
You kept cleaning houses. You kept those old pictures hung up like trophies. You wondered about finding a new dance studio on this side of town. But you weren't sure if you were ready. So, all things considered, you went to that little cafe on your old campus to find a friend for lunch.
"So, I went to Claires house yesterday." Soren began his story with a wry grin, unwrapping his meal from home. The coffee shop was busier than usual, full of students new to campus and ones eager to leave. "I asked her if that cat still hung around. Long story short she said if I could catch him, I could keep him. So I went to the gas station on the corner and bought a bag of jerky. Set up a little trail from the fence to the patio. It was about an hour before the little guy showed up. He didn't even go for the jerky he just came right up to me and let me pick him up!"
Soren went on to explain how easy it was to take the cat home and how soundly the pet had been sleeping in his window sill. You laughed and beamed and felt glad for the outcome on your friend's behalf. You couldn't imagine the basket case he'd have become if the cat fought his capture. 
The cafe began to crowd with more people, somehow, standing between tables that all filled up with patrons. Soren sighed and rushed to finish his food, knowing they'd want his help the busier business got. 
"We really need to meet up sometime when it's not your break." You mentioned. He nodded, sharing part of his dessert like he always did. 
"Do you always bring your lunch? I never see you order here." You realized, suddenly. Besides coffee, there were some reasonably decent snacks the cafe had to offer. But Soren never seemed to indulge.
"I don't even like coffee, man." 
You laughed and wondered why the hell he worked here then. 
"It's the first job that called me back after an interview. It's the job that got me out of debt. I love it here. Everything comes full circle, ya know?" Soren explained, but you asked him to go on still. 
"It's like with Tom. He died, man. But that little grey cat that ate the flowers we planted for Tom lets me feed him fast food every night. You can't convince me that's not my friend. He came back." Soren waved a hand, as if to rope his next point in with the one he'd just made. "I needed money, I got a job and made enough to pay off my debt and enough to pack my own lunches every day. Everything we want is already ours. If it doesn't happen one time it'll happen another. It's all a big circle."
Somehow, a light switched on in your brain. Somehow, everything you'd been worried about didn't feel so heavily weighed on your chest. Somehow, you had an answer for Angus.
"Soren, you brilliant hippie freak." You gawked at your friend in awe as he rushed to take one last bite of the sandwich he'd brought. Soren was hurrying to stand, hurrying to get back to work. And you were suddenly in a rush too, now that everything clicked. With a quick hug goodbye, you darted for the shop doors, excusing yourself through a crowd of grumpy college students eagerly awaiting their caffeine fix.
///
Your home was quiet, the good kind. Stillness welcomed you as your thoughts continued to align in place for what felt like the first time in your entire life. Your brain was free of cluttered worries. Your heart was beating at a steady pace. It was all clicking. And you even still had a couple hours to make a decent dinner for two.
Angus arrived when he said he would, bursting in the door with complaints of teachers who were bad at their jobs and students who were too dumb to care. You laughed and listened and set a place at your table for him. Over dinner, you talked about considering dancing again. Angus encouraged you. He talked about taking a year after graduating to relax. You said he should. You each helped clean up easily and welcomed the quiet together. 
You each floated to the couch afterward like you were used too by now. You let the telly play whatever was on, and relaxed under the weight of your best friends arm that laid over your shoulders.
"Angus..." You decided, grabbing his attention as both of your eyes stayed glued to the actor on the screen. Your friend hummed in response. 
"I miss the way everything was before." You admitted. You missed your friends, the nights you all spent as a group. You missed the life you'd had worked out for yourself back then. You noticed Angus had turned his head to face you, his brows lifted as if to display sympathy. His grief free to reveal itself for a moment. Angus' almond eyes floated from his lap to meet yours as you shot him a pursed shrug. 
"It scares me that this is what life has played out like." You went on, watching Angus watch you speak. His eyes landed on your lips. His voice was a whisper when he asked you to go on. 
"What if we keep changing?" You implored, nodding toward Angus as his gaze danced from your eyes to your mouth. "If we fall in love I want it to stay that way. I can't have you be my next great disaster. I'd rather keep you at a distance than dare to let you break my heart somehow." You revealed. 
Angus rose his hand to brush across your face. He let his fingers find your hair and curl among the strands.
"We've already lost a bit of what we were before, haven't we?" You begged for clarification, validation, mutual understanding. If you were gonna let him in, you needed Angus to remember all the reasons you'd been weary to do so, up till now. You needed to make sure his mind hadn't locked onto worry and changed.
He was pressing a gentle kiss to your lips then. A simple soft gesture that lingered with intention. 
"Why does it have to be lost? Why can't it just be changed for the better?" Your friend wondered, his voice low, his presence before you whole and consistent as ever. You'd heard enough to shut up and kiss him back. And then it was happening, what usually happened when Angus kissed you. Your heart hammered and your brain latched onto thoughts of only him and your hands gripped to pull him close. 
Angus dragged you to bed, something that had happened a few times here, in this new reality. You did all the things there that you had done before. You marveled over how Angus held you and cared for you and stared at you with undeniable adoration.
And after a while, when you'd both done all you could do, you laid there still. In the low lamp light, you stayed tangled up with Angus, running fingers through his hair and listening to his heartbeat. And you talked about what compelled each of you to kiss in the first place. You talked about how you felt the night he shagged you on the guest bedroom floor. He talked about how overwhelmed he was when you boned him in the front seat of his car. You collectively wondered how different things might've turned out if Tom didn't die. If school went better. What life would look like now, if things were different.
"I don't know. I've been worried that I don't have control over anything. Like my whole life has just happened to me. What if that's like... my curse?" You sighed, staring up at the amber glow from your bed side lamp.
"I've been where you are, before. When I met Paul. And one night he told me 'your history doesn't have to define your destiny.' And that rocked my world, man." Angus lamented. "I wish I could explain it all away for you just as easy. But all I can do is wait, and hope something clicks for you. Wait and hope you'll see something good enough in me to let me prove it to you. That's what love is, isn't it? Or could be?"
"Yeah. It already clicked for me." You revealed. It was time. It was easy to admit. It was true. Angus hummed as a plea for clarity, tapping his finger against your temple out of habit, you assumed. 
"It already clicked for me. That can be what love is. We can be in love and scared about it together." You said. 
The room filled with a quiet you were familiar with. Angus laid still beneath you. Until finally he spoke up. 
"You mean that?" 
Soren said that everything you may have wanted in life was already yours. And some how that made sense. No matter that Tom died, he was your friend. Nothing could change that fact. Kiara had been so distant, but she was writing to you. She came back. Soren caught the cat. And Angus laid in your bed. And no matter what had happened before, he was here now, and you didn't want to take that for granted out of fear it might all slip away. 
With a grin and a nod, you shifted to meet Angus' almond eyes. His were hazy under his brooding brow. You were glad you didn't have to miss him anymore. He was all yours. You'd always belonged to him whether you realized it or not. And nothing was going to change that.
///
That holiday season you joined Angus on a trip to the East Coast. He made fun of you for being so cold but shared his jackets all the while. Angus took you to all the places his dad used to like. You helped him hold a memorial his mother denied planning, and neither of you mentioned her at all. 
You sat beside him in a cab, watching a steady snow fall collect along the sidewalks. You were on your way to meet your boyfriend's favorite old teacher. You planned to tell him all about Tom. In fact, you had a lot of plans that featured Angus these days. And he, with you. And of that you were very happily certain.
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mysecretlittlelibrary · 5 months ago
Text
The Scientific Method
Pairing: Moonknight trio x Reader
Word Count: 2.2k
Warnings: just a bunch of ritual things, there's mention of blood and reader cuts their hand open
Genre: angst/fluff
Summary: They are determined to go through with this mind link and you have to do everything in your power to protect them
***
You groan to yourself as you shut yet another old heavy grimoire. The more you try to research this dammed ritual the more you feel like your head this close to exploding. You're overwhelmed trying to sort through conflicting information, unclear instructions, and a seemingly never-ending list of cautions. Several times over the last few hours you debated if it'd be easier to change their minds than go through with this. The knock at your apartment door shocks you so much you practically jump out of your skin. With a sigh, you stand from your desk and walk to the door. When you open the door you barely register your boyfriend standing there, your eyes trying to recover from combing over walls of text all day.
"Hello love." Steven smiles at you.
"Hi baby, what brings you over?" You ask stretching.
"It's movie night." He frowns.
"Right! Shit, is it time already?" You shake your head.
"How could you forget?" He chuckles.
"Well someone wants so badly to risk their sanity I've been doing research all day to protect this silly individual. Lost track of time I guess."
"You've been doing research on it?"
"Of course I have. If I'm going to do this insanely dangerous ritual I need to know it so well you'd think I was there upon its creation." You say.
"What have you found out?" He asks.
"I'm sitll sifting through it, there's possibly a potion involved-"
"Well you can put a pin in it for now, because it's movie night." Steven grabs you by the shoulders and leads you to your couch to sit you down.
"I'm just worried there's some time sensitivity aspect I'm missing. Something this complex probably requires very specific circumstances in order to have even a chance of being successful. Like what if it can only be done during a solar eclipes, or when all the fucking planets are aligned or-"
"Baby you don't have to work it out all at once, we're not in a rush, plus we trust you. I don't think you have anything to worry about." Steven says gently.
"That's fine for you, I'm the one performing the ritual you just have to show up, I'm the one responsible for making sure you don't die or lose your mind or lose a limb or-"
"Breathe." Marc says grabbing your hand. You stop and take a breath.
"Marc-"
"Don't start, and don't get yourself all worked up. It's like you don't even realize how powerful you are. You're not going to kill me, or drive me insane, or steal my arms. We will absolutely come out on the other side of this for the better." Marc says firmly.
"When did you get all optimistic?" You chuckle.
"When you showed up and gave me something worth living for." He says kissing your temple.
"You're such a softie." You scoff.
"Yeah yeah, now let's get this movie night started, you can research the spell later."
"Alright alright. I'll table it for now." You sigh letting Marc pull you closer to him as he starts the first movie for tonight.
*~*
You draw the last of the symbols on the ground, checking them for the umpteenth time that you got them all correct. You drove hours out of the city to prepare and do this spell. Marc is meant to meet you any minute now, but you've already been here a while getting all the bits and pieces together. You read your notes again, as if you haven't seared them into your brain at this point, but it helps you feel in control. You've done all the research you could possibly do without having a first hand account of doing this spell. You're as ready as you can be, you know you are, but there's just so much that could go wrong it's impossible not to be nervous.
"The pacing does not bode well for your sanity." The booming voice almost makes you drop your pages.
"Holy fuck- you brought the bird?!" You clutch your chest when you realize your boyfriend has arrived and so has Khonshu.
"I am not some pet he does not bring me anywhere. He is my Avatar, if you intend to disintegrate his mind it's in my personal interests to be aware of that." Khonshu says.
"I'm not disintegrating anything you kooky old skeleton but if you insist on being here do not interrupt." You roll your eyes.
"Even if it saves him from your incompetence?"
"Marc may work for you but I don't you fucking-"
"Khonshu don't speak to her that way." Jake interrupts. "We didn't tell you about this so you could come all this way just to insult her. She's powerful and capable and we have faith in her. Your opinion on the matter is not only unwanted, it is also unfound." You look between them as Jake's words hang in the air for a moment. 
"You hold her in high regard." Khonshu hums.
"You knew that already." Jake glares.
"To see it is a different thing."
"Are you two done?" You ask.
"Sorry mi amor, I told them to leave Khonshu in the dark but no one listens to me. How are you feeling?" Jake takes your hand in his, eyes scanning your face.
"Fine. Good. As good as I can be. Everything's set. How're you guys?" You ask.
"Steven's a little nervous."
"Just Steven?" You probe softly.
"Sí just Steven. Marc is, impatient and I am, managing our expectations."
"As always." You kiss his cheek.
"Are you two quite finished with the- whatever this is?" Khonshu scoffs and you're sure if he had eyes to roll he'd probably be doing that.
"Oh I'm sorry did you mistake us for a theater show? We're not here to entertain you." You roll your eyes. You walk over to your bag and pull out a small bottle. "Drink this."
"What's this?" Jake asks.
"Step one."
"Which does what?" His eyebrow cocks up at you.
"Makes you more susceptible to the magic of the spell so it's easier." You say, that's not exactly right but the full explanation would be far too much to break down and you need to focus on getting through this not giving a potions lesson. Jake downs the murky liquid and cringes slightly. It probably doesn't taste great based on the ingredients. "Stand in the center where all the lines meet."
"How should I stand?" He asks.
"Still." You mutter walking over to your bag for your ritual dagger.
"What?"
"You asked how you should stand. Stand still." You say.
"Amor?" Jake calls, making you look up from your recitation pages. "Te amo."
"I love you too." You say. You take a deep breath to steady yourself. It's now or never.
"Ich baln kikae fineir shel cae ganel ufnae oulm antae woom bae." The circle starts to shimmer in that familiar but unnatural way that's so custom of magic. You twirl the ritual knife once in your hand before slicing open your palm. A spell meant to bind you and another person in any way almost always requires blood.
"Ich Maie fanie rach el aer wol nihar welm intalm axo tanit shway." One hard squeeze of your hand drops blood on the first of the seven symbols that make up the points of the circle. The symbol lights up and the corresponding line follows and shines from end to end.
"Baint int quare yeel fren smer worsh ufer dal krei lut isht." More blood on symbol 2 lighting it and its line.
"Pahb arth e rinethow finae ni shabnida." Your hand is starting to hurt but you squeeze blood onto the third symbol and watch it join the first 2 in brightening the circle.
"Inae fuu raunk valum dae chaw ji prosh shay zila trof renda ishan." You watch the fourth symbol light up and move on to the next.
"Urf nae inst purn wolay kirna ru gant verin herab vins tae." Five down, two more to go.
"Ich shie bruy pir exun bakiyen wishor itarm kastey." Onto the last one.
"Intraey izarnit wor bint azun oxair yerin jiha geins." The last of the symbols lights up, and you walk over to Jake in the center. You tip his head back and squeeze blood into his mouth.
"Mierda! You didn't mention anything about-" Jake doesn't finish his sentence, he drops to the ground and you gasp.
"I imagine that wasn't supposed to happen. Was it?" Khonshu muses. You roll your eyes you wish he'd shut up but at least the irritation overrode the panic bubbling. You take a deep breath and recite the last bit of the spell. It won't do you any good to leave the circuit incomplete, an unfinished spell could do more damage to Jake than whatever's already going on.
"Rahg inth der minshea loun weemae zontho ich baln kikae fineir." With the final incantation complete you watch as the spell circle burns brighter and brighter until all the symbols seemingly drain towards the center, disappearing one after the other as if Jake's body is absorbing them.
"Is it over?" Khonshu asks.
"Well the spell circle... disappeared so- I guess?"
"He's still unconscious."
"Gee hadn't noticed." You roll your eyes.
"There has to be something you can do about this you did the spell."
"Just pick him up off the ground." You say packing up your spell items.
"Why would I do that?"
"That spell wasn't easy, I don't have the strength to pick him up but it's not like we can just leave him out here overnight." You cross your arms.
"I am not carrying him all the way into town." Khonshu says.
"Why would you do that? Did you walk here?" You ask.
"The British one doesn't have a car."
"Sure but Jake does."
"Jake didn't want to have to leave the car here if something happened." Khonshu says.
"Whatever, I drove. You just need to get him to my car." You say.
"And what if I don't?"
"If you don't he spends the night out here." You shrug grabbing your bag of things and trudging away from the clearing.
"Well- hang on!" Khonshu huffs. A few moments later you hear his heavy footfalls behind you. "Would you really have left your boyfriend laying in a field unprotected."
"Of course not, the field had a bunch of defensive spells in place." You scoff.
"Why didn't you say that!?"
"I knew you wouldn't call my bluff." You say opening your car and tossing your bag in the passenger seat. "Drop him in the back please." You open the backseat door and help Khonshu fold your boyfriend across the seats.
"You had better hope they all survive your odd experimentation."
"It was their idea you foolis- you know what, it doesn't matter what you say, you have no right to pretend you value their life beyond how you can use them like a puppet of course I hope they survive I tried to talk them all out of this like 5 times. Stubborn fools." You shake your head.
"So what happens now?"
"Now I take him home and we hope for the best." You shrug getting into your car. You drive home, anxious to get your boyfriend home so you can start looking for some way to reverse this or at least help in some way.
Back at your apartment you struggle to get the body up to your place. Luckily it's incredibly late already or you'd probably have to explain this to more than just the person frowning at you from behind the front desk when you walked in. Once in the safety of your own apartment, you take a deep breath as you look at Marc passed out in your guest room.
"I don't want to get to say I told you so but you had better give me a chance to yell at you for being an idiot. You owe me that. Please wake up, you're far too stubborn to die like this. It'd be a rather pathetic way to go, given all the shit that didn't take you out." You huff. You feel so restless, you need to shower and you know you need to sleep because it's been a long and exhausting day but there's no way you'll get any rest with your boyfriend passed out indefinitely in the other room, all you want to do is sit up sifting through grimoires until the answer jumps out at you from one of the pages, you can't just leave him like that and not do anything-
"Stop." You say to yourself, hoping to stall your racing thoughts for a moment. "Okay, strategize. Realistically if you try to comb through your grimoires and things right now your eyes will literally fall out bleeding you have done entirely too much today even if you found the answer you wouldn't have the strength to do anything with it. He's physically safe and while you can't possibly know what's going on internally that'll have to be enough for now because you can't save him if you don't take care of yourself. Let's shower and try to get some sleep and we can approach this with a fresh mind in the morning."
With an acceptable game plan officially vocalized you take one more deep breath and clap your hands once to center yourself. Your shower helps tremendously which you knew it would but sometimes it's hard to regulate when so much is going on at once. You put on lotion and your pajamas and check on the trio once more before forcing yourself to go to bed. Hopefully you can get some sleep and maybe start problem solving this whole nightmare in the morning.
***
A/N: So sorry it took so long to get here my mind is a labrynth and my life has been a tornado lately, it's getting calm so what else would you like to see from this series?
Tagged Users: @itsmskeisha @auntiegigi @neteyamsluvts @a-lil-bit-nuts @i-love-sammwiches @chaosgoblinreblogsthings
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ravenromanova · 1 year ago
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Sex in the moonlight
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Pairings:Wanda x Female avenger reader. Wanda x Vision (past)
Warnings: SMUT!! DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDERAGE!!!!!!!! Oral, Fingering, Magical and enchanted strap, Mommy kink, Slight breeding kink, Praise kink. Soft dom mommy Wanda, Very submissive reader. DO NOT READ IF YOURE UNDER 18!!!!!!!!!
Masterlist - Send me requests!!!
-
Pain. Guilt. And a little relief. Is all that Wanda felt as she got into the car and loaded it with her things. She started the engine and wiped her tears before driving off. The moonlight seemed brighter than normal as she drove to her safe place. You. It was almost like the moon was leading her right to you.
Wanda drove for what felt like hours until the light from the moon shined on your house. She drove into your gravel driveway and sat there for a minute and silently cried. After she wiped her eyes she grabbed two duffel bags. Her knees gave out as she walked up the brick stairs to your door. With a deep breath and shaky hands she knocked on the mahogany door.
You were in your kitchen when you heard faint knocking at your door. Putting down the tea you were making and looking at the clock that read 2:00 am you walked to the door. Needless to say your heart broke when you opened the door to see a crying Wanda. The moonlight had shined on her face and you saw just how red her emerald eyes were.
“Oh sweet girl come here” You said softly as you open you arms for the redhead. She doesn’t say anything as she quickly hugs you and sobs into your neck. Without another word you hug her back and rub your hand up and down her back. Wanda holds onto you as if she might fall if she doesn’t. You whisper words of affirmation in her ear as she clings to you and cries.
After a few minutes of Wanda sobbing into your neck you broke the hug. You took Wanda by the hand and grabbed the duffel bags she had dropped and walk inside. You placed the bags by the door and lead her into the kitchen. She sat on a stool by the counter as you made you both tea. While you make the tea Wanda doesn’t say a word but you can tell she’s lost in thought.
“What happened wands?” The question comes off sincere as it falls from your lips. She takes a deep breath as you hand her the tea and tries to find the courage to speak.
“Vision came home after a week long mission tonight, and i was making dinner when he came home. And before i could even get a word out i got this overwhelming feeling of guilt and regret, I asked him if he was okay and he just brushed me off. we sat down and ate in silence til he got a text. The second he read the message his thoughts went from regret to love,happiness and passion. That’s when i decided to read his mind, i found out that he wasnt on a mission. That he was cheating on me with some woman named eve” Wanda says as tears spill from her eyes. She puts her hands on her face and buries her head in them.
“Moya Lyubov i’m so sorry. That’s fucking awful and not to mention cruel. What did he say when you confronted him?” You question the witch as you wrap an arm around her in comfort. You stand next to her rubbing her back coaxing her to speak.
She slightly blushes at the nickname and how close you are but she swallows her nerves before speaking. “He denied it until i told him i read his mind and he knew that i’ve never done that before so i just screamed at him. He told me she meant nothing. I called him a fucking liar and told him i could feel how he felt about her- and i just lost my shit and my powers went a little haywire” She pauses before finishing. She looks down at her shaky hands reliving the events of the night and shuts her eyes trying to keep out the voices.
“Wands if you don’t wanna continue telling me it’s okay i promise. i know all i need to in order to justify kicking his android ass.” You comment as you take one of her shaky hands into hers and smile softly.
Wanda can’t help but laugh a little at your dig at vision. It takes her a second to say anything as she’s lost in thought. For a moment she loses herself in your comfort. She closes her eyes and lets herself get lost in the feeling. Your soft touch on her arm brought her back to reality.
“My powers got out of control, the lights were flickering, then the bulbs went out, i broke a couple windows, i may or may not have sent him flying out of a window as well” She confesses as she looks down at her hands.
“I mean it’s not like he didn’t deserve it. Shit i probably would’ve done worse.” You say honestly as you lead her into the living room. You two sit down and just sit in silence for a few.
“You know i always thought you deserved better than him anyways.” The words take Wanda off guard and she tilts her head.
“Why?” She asks as she moves a little closer.
“Because i could sense that you weren’t fully in it. From the second you came running into my room telling me he asked you out i could a sense uncertainty radiating off of you.” You respond truthfully sipping on your tea.
Wanda’s breath catches in her throat and she looks at you as if she’s about to cry again. She looks at you with her green eyes and you could tell she had something to say so you just wait.
“I was excited he asked me out but you’re right…I wasn’t in it fully.” Wanda confesses and she grabs your free hand. “Vision wasn’t the person i wanted to ask me out” She continues speaking as her thumb rubs against your knuckles. “I wanted you to” Her words made you look up at her and you nearly choked when you saw her green eyes full of lust.
“Me?” You asked in disbelief. It’s not exactly a secret that you were in love with the witch. Everyone on the team knew it including Wanda apparently.
“Yes you. But i was so nervous and in actuality i was going to ask you on a date when Vision asked me out on the way to your room. I got so flustered and nervous i just agreed before i knew what i was saying” Her hand was now on your thigh causing you to choke a little and cover it with a cough.
“Wanda i-“ You don’t even know what to say to her confession. It’s not that hearing those words don’t make you swoon but you don’t wanna take advantage of her in this state.
“Shh detka” Her finger presses against your lips. “Let me make up for everything” She whispered before she crashed her lips into yours. It took you a moment to realize what happened before you wrapped your arms around her and deepened the kiss.
The kiss was intense and messy and down right sinful. She broke the kiss for a moment to look at you with list blown eyes.
“Do you want this?” She asked a little breathlessly. You nodded in response to which she gently took hold of your chin. “Words detka” Her voice was soft yet seductive as she spoke.
“Yes- I-I want this” You said quickly making the witch smile and she pulled you on top of her. Her hands found your waist before she brought you in for another heated kiss. Your hips started to involuntarily grind on her thighs trying to release some of the throbbing at your core.
“Lay down dorogaya” She says laying you down against the couch. She then uses her magic and removes your clothes leaving you bare under her touch. You could tell by the look in her eyes that she was going to ruin you.
“I should have never let you slip through my fingers…I should’ve never passed you up for him” She berated herself as she took in just how beautiful you were.
“It’s okay Wands” You said softly caressing her cheek. Wanda looked up at you and smile before she gave you another bruising kiss. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters” Your words relived Wanda more than she knew.
She had always loved you since the moment she laid eyes on you. You were hidden away in one of Struckers cells and she had found you on a recovery mission that was to clean up his remaining facilities. When she had found you it had looked like you hadn’t eaten in weeks,you were weak and fragile and she did everything she could to help you. That’s when the two of you became closer than anyone on the team. You two did absolutely everything together…until Vision had asked her out.
That’s when everything fell apart and you ended up moving out of the compound because you couldn’t handle seeing them together. It was too much seeing the woman you loved be completely infatuated by someone else. The two of you only saw each other on missions after that point which Wanda hated.
Yes she loved Vision but not nearly enough as she loved you. You were everything she ever wanted and honest to gods if Vision hadn’t caught her totally off guard she would’ve asked you out like she planned. But unfortunately he did catch her off guard and for the past six months have been together. But that all changes tonight here and now because she can’t live without you any longer.
She didn’t really understand why she was so upset with Vision when she found out what he did. In all honesty she was more relived than anything. She thinks it’s because she finally got the go ahead to be with you that she didn’t know how to control herself. That’s why she drove straight to you.
Your kiss on her neck broke her out of her thoughts and brought her back to you. She looked at you before her hands found their way to your bare chest. Her lips circled around your nipple making you moan a sinful sound. While she sucked on one her other hand rolled your nipple in between her fingers.
“P-Please fuck me” You beg and Wanda’s eyes darkened more than you’ve ever seen.
“Oh i will detka” She said after she released your nipple with a wet pop. Her hands roamed your body for a few more minutes before she settled in between your thighs. Wanda’s eyes were glued to your dripping pussy.
“So pretty baby” She cooed rubbing her nimble and cold fingers up and down your soaked core. You couldn’t help but buck your hips against her fingers trying to get more friction.
“Please” You begged again and before you could say anything else two fingers were plunged into you. “OH FUCK” She smiled at your reaction as she pumped her fingers against your g-spot. Her fingers felt like magic as she hit all the right spots.
Wanda watched as your pussy swallowed her fingers with delight. She saw the juices spill out of you and her mouth watered at the sight. Before you could even really process how good you felt Wanda’s mouth was on your clit. Your hands flew to her hair and you started riding her face and fucked yourself on her fingers.
“Oh god mommy! FUCK” You screamed feeling your first orgasm crash through you. Wanda groaned in delight when she tasted you on her tongue.
“You taste so sweet baby” She says with a smile licking her fingers. You pull her back up to you and bring her in for a passionate kiss. The taste of you mixed with her makes you groan when you taste it.
Wanda flicks her wrist again and a strap appears around her waist and her clothes go on the floor.
“Oh fuck” Your eyes widen when you look at the strap then her. The strap is a dark red with a black harness that goes beautifully with her pale skin.
“You like it baby?” She asks bringing your attention back to her.
“Yes mommy” Wanda smiles at the use of the nickname and grips your thighs to bring you closer.
“Are you gonna be a good girl for mommy and let me fuck you dumb?” Her words send a chill down your spine as they pass her lips.
“Y-Yes mommy wanna be your good girl” You eagerly nod making the witch chuckle.
“Good girl” She praised making your cheeks heat up and softly smile at her. “Oh does someone like hearing what a good girl she is?” Her words made a soft moan escape your lips.
“Yes” She laughed at how soft and shy you had become under her. One of her hands held your thigh while the other grasped the strap and slowly guided it in you.
“OH SHIT” The feeling of the strap hit your g-spot almost made you come undone right then and there. Her hips snapped against yours causing the both of you to let out guttural moans. Luckily for her the strap was enchanted so she could feel everything, the warmth of your walls and how much you were squeezing her.
“You feel so fucking good detka” She grunted out loving the way your face contorted in pleasure. The way your walls squeezed down on you made her moan in delight.
“I-I’m gonna cum mommy! right there- oh fuck!” Your back arched as your second orgasm shot through you.
“That’s right baby let mommy feel you. Fuck- If i could fill you up and make you a mommy i so fucking would” She gritted out feeling her orgasm get closer to snapping.
“I’d love for you to breed me mommy” You confess and your words brought Wanda over to the edge and her thrusts stilled as she came. But that didn’t mean she was done with you quite yet. She started thrusting into you again causing you to go into overload.
“C-Can’t mommy. Too sensitive-“ Your pleas fell on deaf ears as she thrusted into you with force. The room was filled with your moans and skin slapping and gods was it music to your ears.
“You can take it baby. You wanna be my good girl right?” She said with a slight mocking tone bringing one of her hands up to cup your cheek.
“Y-Yes mommy wan’ to be your good girl” You said in a fucked out haze as your eyes rolled to the back on your head.
“Then take it baby” Her words her firm yet soft making your heart swell. You nodded in response knowing you weren’t able to form words anymore.
Wanda thrusted into you hard chasing her second orgasm and bringing you to your third. You could feel the coil building up again.
“R-Right there mommy oh god!” The words ripped through your throat and you grabbed onto her shoulders as you came again. Wanda’s orgasm wasn’t fair behind you and she came holding onto you.
“Of fuck baby” She said softly still holding onto you. The two of you were panting and breathless as you looked at each other in a fucked out haze.
“T-That was”
“Amazing” Wanda finished your sentence and you let out a breathless laugh.
“Very much so” You agreed with a goofy smile. Wanda flicked her wrist and the strap disappeared and she picked you up and headed to your room.
She took you to your room and laid you down before going to grab a wet cloth. When she came back she cleaned you up being careful not to overstimulate you.
“Come here my love” Wanda cooed bringing you to lay on her chest and she covered you two up with a blanket.
“I love you y/n…. I always have and always will” She confessed giving you a kiss on the head.
“I love you too Wands” Wanda smiled at you words and her heart filled with so much joy in that moment. The two of you ended up falling asleep wrapped up in each others arms happier than ever.
Within the next couple of months you moved back into the compound, moved into a room with Wanda, adopted a dog and Wanda proposed a year after you two made it official.
The love the two of you had for each other was something out of a movie and you couldn’t be happier.
~The end~
A/n: i may or may not have gotten a little carried away but oh well :) Enjoyyy 💋
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bartyism · 8 months ago
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honest work. regulus black.
regulus is dead and it is now up to you to defend his honor.
reposted from my old account.
warnings: canon compliant death
pairing: past regulus black x fem!reader
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Regulus never told you he was leaving, he never told you his plans. You woke up in a cold, dark, empty room with no one lying beside you. The sheets on his side of the bed were freezing and had been kicked off the bed haphazardly. The night before had been rough, you had ended up arguing over everything you were missing out on while seeking refuge inside the house that was given to Regulus as a graduation gift. His involvement with the Dark Lord had done immense damage to your relationship but it was held together by his promises – promises that things were not as they seemed. 
In return, you had lost your job but, most importantly, your friends who had become family because of your predicament. They were never accepting of your relationship. The younger version of you that got yourself into this mess was naive. You were a sixteen-year-old chasing a forbidden love. Now, as an almost nineteen-year-old, you were in far too deep. Everything that was part of you, or what you owned, was dedicated to and also owned by Regulus. There was no you without him, once everyone else had turned their back on you.
The deepest parts of you still loved Regulus, of course. Your skin begged for his touch and your brain urged to see him and hear his voice. But, he did not align with your beliefs. Any chance of change he had shown in your Hogwarts years had been ripped to shreds the minute you graduated. But, you never left. You had lost everything, and you refused to lose him, too.
Beside you, placed gently on the pillow your lover used every night, was a rolled-up parchment. Your heart sunk at the sight, mind racing.
Unrolling it, you felt bile work its way up your throat as you began to read it.
“Y/n,
I apologize for leaving so abruptly. Sometimes, when the moment is right, you must not let anything stop you. I need you to believe every word I say.
I have found something that may put an end to all of this – this war that I know has put a strain on us, especially your well-being. I never meant for things to become this way.
He has created an object that makes him... stronger than the average mortal. I know where it is located and hopefully, I will destroy it. I know I am being vague, but I swear it is for your protection.
I do not know if or when I will return. I need you to promise me that you will move on, worse comes to worst. The thought of you in pain over my decision pains me more than anything I could face on this journey. My last thoughts will be of only you. I am still as in love with you as I was the first day we met, but I regret infiltrating your life with my poor choices.
With all of my love,
R.A.B.
Please burn after reading.”
Your body shook as you clutched the parchment to your chest. You knew Regulus would not be returning, or else he wouldn’t have left this letter. You would never hold or kiss him again, never have him inside you again. You would never smell his cologne throughout the house or bury your nose in his hair again. 
After the initial comedown from reading the letter, your thoughts were jumbled: had Regulus told the truth? Was he lying when he promised things weren’t as they seemed? The letter seemed to confirm his claims, but what if it was just another lie?
Standing up on shaky legs, you made your way to the desk that Regulus spent many nights hunched over. You began writing a letter to Sirius about Regulus’ death, but you left out all of the parts regarding why it happened. You didn’t think about how Sirius may react. You never expected a letter in return just a few days later, asking you to meet him.
You should’ve expected that James and Remus would also be accompanying him. What you thought would be a deep conversation about Regulus quickly turned into an interrogation. The men in front of you wasted no time with pleasantries, immediately diving into what Sirius had said they would be coming for. “He died during a mission-,” you started. You were cut off by Sirius, who had grown tired of you struggling to find the right words to say.
“Stop telling me that he died! I want to know how,” Sirius demanded. You shook your head and looked down.
“I don’t know what else to tell you, Sirius, when I’m not quite sure myself.” you spit out, still not lifting your head to look at him. “He left me a letter. That is all I know and even that didn’t explain much.”
“A letter? So he left, presumably on a mission, and got himself killed doing it. Bloody idiot, if only he’d grown a backbone-,” Sirius started but was interrupted.
“You are so ignorant, Sirius. You know nothing about him and what he was doing. He wasn’t the boy you left behind in that house, he changed. But, you? You’re still an entitled dickhead. You can’t think for one minute that maybe, just maybe, your brother looked up to you. He wanted to escape, too, but he never had the resources you did. He didn’t have loving friends that he could run to. You don’t get it, Sirius, you don’t know how badly he wanted out of there after you left. I am not going to sit here and listen to you when Regulus died to help your cause,” you said. You started crying again and covered your face with your hands. 
The three men in front of you glanced at each other. For once in his life, Sirius didn’t know what to say. Instead, James spoke up. “He died for our cause? What’d you mean by that?”
“He didn’t tell me everything, even asked that I burn the letter after I read it. But, he mentioned something about Voldemort being stronger than mortals and that he knew how to stop him from being so. I figured that if anyone deserved to know now that he’s gone, it would be you.”
You silently prayed to the Gods that Regulus wasn’t frowning down upon you right now. You had gone directly against his dying wish, but you knew this secret couldn’t die with him. Others needed to know that Regulus Black did not die as a cowardly supporter of Voldemort.
“Could you give us a moment?” Sirius asked, turning towards James and Remus. The two boys nodded and got up from the table, finding something else to do. Sirius couldn’t meet your eye, instead focusing his gaze on his clasped hands. “Could you tell me more about him?” he whispered.
You stared at him, shocked. “He was angry at you, but not because of your beliefs. He was heartbroken that you left him in that house, but as we got older, he was even angrier at himself for being angry at you.” Sirius ducked his head even lower and you stopped yourself from reaching out and putting your hand on his shoulder.
“Regulus and I had talked about starting a family. If we had a son, he wanted to give him the middle name ‘Sirius’. We spent a lot of nights talking about our future, in hopes of getting the chance to even have one.” You choked on your tears before continuing, “One of his promises to me was that when everything settled down, he would try to reconnect with you.”
“But, I never even attempted to give him a chance,” Sirius trailed off. You nodded, stoically. You weren’t going to show pity on him. Consumed by your grief, you couldn’t imagine that Sirius was capable of feeling an ounce of what you felt. He had turned his back on Regulus while you did everything to keep him in one piece. Sirius knew nothing. “What else did he promise you?”
You sighed, slouching in your seat faintly. “He promised that we would get married. Part of that promise was that he’d have reconnected with you by then. You’d be at the wedding. He also promised that we would get rid of Grimmauld Place since that place is full of terrible memories. Now, with everyone being dead other than you, it’s yours.” You had to pause before you continued. Sirius looked as though he had been presented with the worst news of his life.
“You were always his older brother. He loved you, Sirius.” You picked up a tissue and tried to rid your face of the tears. Exhaustion had taken its toll on you and you hung your head. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure how much more I can say right now. I haven’t gotten to grieve yet, you know,” you mumbled. Sirius nodded and twisted the rings on his finger, showing his nerves.
You stood up to leave the table, not sure how to end the conversation, but Sirius reached out and grabbed your wrist. “If you ever get overwhelmed being in that house, you can stay at mine. I’m not there much these days, anyway,” he said. 
“As kind as that is, I don’t think I can part with it just yet.”
Six months later, you sat in front of a grave – one that read “Regulus Arcturus Black.” You had asked for a special inscription on it, “A loved partner and brother.”
It was hard for you to come to his grave, mainly because there was never a body to bury. The first time you came and arranged a small selection of flowers, it felt like you were lying to yourself. Surely, Regulus wasn’t dead? How could you be proclaimed dead when there was no body? You knew you weren’t making sense – Kreature had confirmed Regulus’s death. That was all the proof you needed.
However, as you sit facing his grave today, you finally feel as though his presence is there with you. “I wish things would’ve gone differently, but I’m sure you did, too.” A light laugh slipped from your mouth and you looked at the flowers that had rotted since the last time you were there.
“I miss you every day, Reg. Every morning, I still reach for you. Your office is the same as the day you left it. I can’t bring myself to change anything that was once yours, in fear that I’ll forget the small things about you. I can’t move your opened book on the symbolism of thestrals, or flip the page from the one you left it on. Every once in a while, I find a piece of your clothing that managed to escape the wash – I can’t bring myself to wash them because they still smell like you.” A few tears slipped from your eyes as you spoke. You absentmindedly plucked the wilted flowers from the ground, tossing them somewhere behind you.
“I still love you like I would have if you were here with me. Sirius has started to come around, too. Your death has finally set into him. He regrets how things went,” you mumbled. The wind picked up, sending chills down your spine. Regulus’s hands were always cold, leaving you to almost imagine it was him embracing you.
“This war will end one day, darling. When it does, I will make sure you are remembered for who you really were. I love you,” you said.
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familiarscars · 1 month ago
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Lost In Control | Bad Omens | CHAPTER 11
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adult content | minors do NOT interact.
⋆ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. Bad Omens X ex-girlfriend and singer!Reader.
⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. You and Noah had a difficult ending, but you still need to support each other for the band.
⋆ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆(𝐒). melancholy, ex-boyfriends, difficult relationships, alcohol abuse, swearing, drug addiction, violence.
It's okay to not agree with the characters' attitudes during the fic. It's good to remember that the story is fiction from the author's sick mind, and of course they will make dubious decisions according to my fantasies. Nothing is done to be compared to reality.
A bitter taste in your mouth and the pulsing in your head were cruel reminders of the hangover. You sat on the bed, holding your slightly warm forehead as the room spun gently, flashing disjointed glimpses of the previous night in your mind. All you could recall was asking to stay home alone after having a few drinks with your friends.
A groan escaped your lips as your eyes landed on the grotesque mess of your room—of your house in general. An absurd urge rose to deal with the unpacked boxes still holding your belongings and the suitcases stuffed with clothes.
There was no point in keeping those bags packed as if everything could return to how it was with the snap of a finger. You needed to accept that this was your new life, and there was no use fighting it.
After stepping out of the shower with a towel wrapped around your head and a toothbrush clinging to the side of your lips, you searched for clothes amid the piles on the floor. Tossing skirts, dresses, pants, and socks into the air, you paused when your fingers brushed against a T-shirt at the bottom of a box. Closing your eyes, you caught its scent—it hadn’t changed. Slipping it on felt like being wrapped in his arms again, if only for a moment.
A few items later, you found a locked wooden box. Glancing around, you spotted pliers among your nail accessories and pressed the tip against the padlock until it popped open. Inside were hundreds of printed photographs—every single one of just the two of you.
It had been so long since you smiled like that. If you didn’t know every detail of his face by heart, you might have thought those weren’t even the two of you in the pictures.
Old napkins with autographs scrawled on them—every one you’d signed for him after bar performances. He’d kept them all. Your fingers traced the messy handwriting you used to have, and a silly smile graced your face.
“So this is what you’ve been wanting back,” you muttered to yourself before putting everything back in the box. “Should’ve burned this crap when I had the chance.”
You had thought that burying the box deep beneath your clothes would also bury the memories that came with it. Ever since he turned his back on you without even hearing what you had to say the night before, you’d tried to think about anything but him.
"Alright, Noah. You did the right thing not listening to me," you grumbled, heading to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste, rinse your mouth, and stare at your reflection in the mirror. “I do everything better on my own anyway.”
Gerard was still a weight in your life, a burden you wanted to cut loose as quickly as possible. But to do that, you needed to act, no matter the cost. Bad Omens had no shadow of new material for the album, which meant more time with him hovering over everyone.
That had to change.
Barefoot, feeling the cold floor beneath you, you walked down the hallway, fingers sliding along the banister, which echoed with that odd, creaky sound. You began pacing back and forth, pen in hand. A kind of anxious energy grew inside your chest, but ideas slipped away like sand through your fingers.
There was nothing. No melody, no line worth keeping. As if nothing inspired you anymore—unless you were high.
The thought was a spark. You knew what you needed to do.
The instant the first line disappeared beneath the swipe of a card, the world transformed. First came the heat, spreading through your body like a controlled wildfire. Then, space seemed to stretch, as though the walls were made of rubber, and your perception opened up like an infinite fan. The world was no longer the same.
Now you could see sounds.
The first sound came from the simple scratch of fingers against a metal surface, a tiny rhythm that echoed and vibrated in your head like thunder. That was all you needed. You sat cross-legged on the floor, pulling paper toward you. A melody began to take shape, hesitant at first, but soon you were sketching each note with precision.
With each new line of powder, the music gained another dimension. The beat in your head morphed into something visceral, something real. I watched you turn into it... The phrase seemed to emerge from somewhere deep inside, and you scrawled it with such force you nearly tore the paper.
Another line. Another phrase.
Every moment you returned from the haze, something new took form:
"This life was all it had to be Designed but not for you and me..."
The lyrics spilled out like a confession, something you might not even have known was there until that moment. Every chord you strummed on the guitar in your living room, every word you breathed out with your cigarette smoke, felt more intimate, more deranged. The riff grew intense, and you let yourself dance alone, fingers gliding over the strings.
The rhythm of the pen against the paper merged with the pounding of your heart and the sway of your hair as the melody gained its identity. It felt as though you were carving out a piece of yourself, tearing it from raw flesh to transform pain into music. The ending came like an explosion.
"The empty husk of a flawed design There is nothing else left inside Within the silence of this illusion Is there anything more than human?"
Slowly, you let go of the pen, leaning your head back, breathless, as sweat dripped down the back of your neck. At that moment, the front doorbell rang. You had a song. This time, a real song, not the trash you had presented at the label. You definitely had a song.
"Anything human..." Jolly seemed to toy with the words that named the song for a moment. You got excited as you gave a quick demonstration, and he looked thrilled with the idea from the start.
“What do you think?” you asked, nodding toward him as you removed the guitar from your lap. “There are some elements that could be interesting to add to the final result, like a slightly more electronic base. You know?”
“It’s a damn great song!” he exclaimed enthusiastically, raising his eyebrows, and your shoulders finally relaxed. “But I’m a little concerned about your creative process…” His eyes swept across the mess in the room before landing back on you. “Okay, we’re way behind on delivering the album, and we don’t have much…”
“We don’t have anything,” you interjected to correct him. “We have nothing yet, and Noah doesn’t seem too worried about it since all he ever does is criticize what I make.”
“But the problem is, every time you get hyped during a creative process, it messes with your head. And I’m no idiot, girl—I know your little tricks to keep yourself inspired. If having a quick album is going to cost me a band member, I’d rather stay at square one!” he warned, pointing his finger at you.
“I can handle it myself, okay? Now let’s get back to the music and the band!”
“It really is a good song.”
“I need you to tell Noah that it was your idea and that you wrote it alone.”
You barely finished the request before Jolly adjusted his posture on the sofa, looking confused.
“Why would I do that?”
“Because you know that when he’s sulking about something, he manages to turn it into nothing more than a pile of garbage in his eyes. That’s what he’s been doing with me,” you explained, trying to suppress a smile. “If you say I wrote this song, he’ll definitely discard it, and we’ll be back at square one. And I doubt that, like me, you don’t have your own reasons for wanting this album to be finished already.”
He considered your words for a moment. Reluctant as he was, he had to admit you were right, knowing his friend as well as he did.
“Of course, I’m not going to let him discard a song like this, but even if I go along with your suggestion, I still think it’s a ridiculous idea,” Jolly said, rolling his eyes as he grabbed the sheet of paper again to analyze your work. “Did your idea of talking to him not work?”
“He’d rather face the devil in his true form than see me in front of him, Jolly.” Propping yourself up on your hands, you stared at him with a pout. “Noah decided that I don’t exist, not even within the band’s boundaries. It’s like I’m really not there, and that’s fine.”
“Fine?” he asked, tearing his attention from the sheet again.
“I feel like the best thing he can do for himself is stay away from me. We can deal with it, right? But if he thinks I’m going to leave my band because of him and our personal issues just because he’s decided he can keep interfering in my life, he’s dead wrong.”
“You’re so stubborn I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if you two were made for each other.”
“You’re wrong. Terribly wrong, Mr. Joakim!”
He clearly didn’t believe your words, judging by the ironic huff and eye roll he gave before returning his attention to the song’s lyrics on the paper.
The studio was enveloped in a comfortable dimness, with faint lights reflecting off the perfectly aligned instruments. The silence preceding rehearsal was almost ceremonial. Noah stood before the microphone, adjusting his headphones while the others exchanged glances, aligning themselves to start.
“Alright, let’s go.” His voice cut through the air with firmness, but there was something in the way he held the stand, in his eyes avoiding direct contact.
The first beat was like a held breath, the bass pulsing gently before the smooth guitar chords emerged, as if asking permission to exist. Noah tilted his head, closing his eyes for a moment, feeling the music flow within him before he began to sing.
His voice was hoarse, laden with emotion, every word cutting through the silence like a blade. He held the notes with precision, but there was a controlled desperation, a longing that was impossible to ignore. The others instinctively adjusted, following his lead. The drums entered like a racing heartbeat, while the guitar intensified, driving the music to something more visceral, rawer.
“That was fucking good!” he said with what seemed like the shadow of a smile at the end of the song, giving Jolly a quick handshake. “You nailed it, but I didn’t know you had something in mind; we could’ve worked on it together.”
Jolly’s gaze darted between Noah and you, and after taking a deep breath, he simply shrugged. “I was just as surprised at how quickly this song landed in my lap.”
“With a few adjustments, we’ve hit the tone for the new album. It feels like it’s finally easier to know where we’re heading,” Noah declared, still with his back to you. You rolled your eyes at the sheer amount of obviousness he spouted. From this angle, it was amusing how flustered he got when he wasn’t the first to figure something out.
“I have another idea!” You raised your hand, waving it enthusiastically, the excitement coursing through you undeniable. You shifted your weight back and forth, catching everyone’s attention except his. “Each track’s intro could contain a coded message, like clues to the central story. Since you love being a trailblazer, I thought of using your voice, Noah. What do you think?”
From this distance, you could see his hand clenching the microphone tighter than necessary. He recognized that euphoric tone and the insatiable urge to provoke him—he knew you were high.
“I think it’s a good idea!” Ruffilo chimed in.
“Me too. Actually, I already have an idea for how it could start,” Jolly added, pulling the same thoughtful face he always did when brainstorming.
“I’ve never heard a dumber idea in my entire life,” Noah said softly, placing the mic stand back in its spot, still refusing to look at you. “Don’t tell me you want to burden us with this melancholic nonsense like the last thing you produced?”
“I asked for your opinion on the idea, not your permission,” you retorted sarcastically.
Noah grunted as if hearing you was physically painful.
“You’re right—some projects shouldn’t see the light of day, like that song of yours. But I don’t get why you’re so offended when creating useless things has always been your specialty.” You shrugged, sitting atop the sound output box. “Just look at your desk drawer—how many songs has Bad Omens released, and how many were actually written by me, Jolly, or you?”
“What the fuck are you talking about!” he snapped. “You talk like you’ve done everything by yourself all these years!”
“Guys, I think that’s enough for today, right?” Folio chuckled awkwardly, jumping off the drum set as he noticed Noah tense up.
“The math doesn’t add up, Noah!” you mocked. “So, every time you refer to something I wrote, just open your drawer and count how many of your songs actually made it out of there.”
Silencing him in his moments of arrogance was one of your greatest talents, and nothing satisfied you more than that. “Honestly, Jolly’s voice would work much better for this intro idea. Who’s in favor?”
Your neck stretched as a triumphant smile spread across your face when everyone, except Noah, raised their hands immediately. He glanced at each of them, as if silently promising vengeance, and the sweetness of defeating him was palpable.
“Then it’s settled, folks!” you cheered, clapping your hands with a satisfied grin.
Gradually, your smile faded as he slowly turned around, his expression dark, especially around his eyes. His breathing came in measured scales, as if it was difficult for him, and as his eyes locked with yours, you stood up. You were ready to stand your ground if necessary, but there was no way he’d win this time.
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
“Bye.”
All the guys said simultaneously. “Man, I’m starving. Catch you later.”
They disappeared in the snap of a finger, leaving her alone with the very reincarnation of the devil in the form of a man. Noah approached with slow steps, and the wind deliberately brought his scent. Even at this reasonable distance, he seemed to emanate enough electricity to make the hairs on her arms stand on end.
“Well, look who broke the little silence game.
“You’re pathetic.”
“That line is mine, hey!” you pointed out.
Another step, and Noah was too close, leaning his body down so they were at the same height. He braced one hand against the wall. You tried to step back, but the speaker right behind you limited your movement, forcing you to step to the side—nothing that stopped him from following you like a bloodhound. If he cultivated a good sense of hearing, he could probably hear how your heart was pounding against your chest from the proximity of your faces.
“Every time I’m talking to you, I want you to look at me,” he ordered, lifting my chin so that my gaze left his sculpted lips and locked onto his blazing eyes. “Congratulations.”
He said in a whisper that churned your stomach.
“I understand that liars have difficulty speaking while looking into someone’s eyes, but in time you’ll learn. Just like you’ve been learning to lie better and better.”
“Do you want me to thank you for the compliment?” you retorted in a biting tone as low as his and almost managed to crack the smirk on his rigid posture if he hadn’t corrected himself in time.
“They might all fall for this ridiculous talk of yours, but I know the song is yours.”
“So you admit you were praising a work done by me?” you asked, reducing the distance between you two. Your tongue moistened your lip as you heard him gasp from the short space between your bodies, and you couldn’t help but feel your skin tingle at the sensation of his eyes analyzing your face. “Still my number one fan, Noah Sebastian?”
He looked feverish, battling between gritting his teeth at your insolence and resisting being so close. Noah took another step forward, planting a single hand on your jaw, and your back collided with the wall, your hair scattering across it.
“Stop,” he growled without much confidence.
His closed eyes brushed the tip of his nose against yours as the compression of your bodies became stronger. You gasped as his leg pressed between yours and the pressure he applied to your jaw while dragging his face along yours was about to make your body explode.
Struggling against his hand and the alternating temperature of your body, you tilted your chin so that your lips came closer together. You could taste the flavor of his lips on yours, always soft and perfectly fitting as if they were made for this. Gently, the moment allowed you to brush against each other slowly, feeling the texture of his sculpted skin that seemed to remain the same after all this time.
But something pulled him out of the trance suddenly, and Noah grabbed your jaw again as he pulled you closer to deliver a message into your ear.
“Don’t seek me out with an intention like this again unless you’re capable of remembering what happened the next day,” he said in a rigid tone as he released you.
Your body cooled so quickly that you guessed you were a little stunned.
“And that shirt is mine. What happened to the story that you’d gotten rid of everything that belonged to me?”
You were furious. After the ecstasy, the excitement, and all the strange things that messed with you whenever you wore this crap, fury was the stage that seemed to linger the longest when it took over your body. Arms crossed, you watched him walk away as if nothing had happened. In fact, he was satisfied with having tied the score.
He had managed to humiliate you.
“Want it back?” you asked and saw him glance over his shoulder.
“Of course I do.”
Nodding and biting your lips, you uncrossed your arms, and without breaking eye contact in his direction, you grabbed the hem of the shirt and pulled it off completely. Luckily, you were wearing a matching lingerie set, and your sweet smile only deepened as you crumpled the piece and threw it against his wide-eyed face.
“Wait!” he called out, trying to follow as you strutted out of the studio. “Where do you think you’re going like that?”
“Home!” you replied as if it were obvious, shrugging as you stepped through the door.
Outside, the guys were eating, and their jaws dropped, along with slices of pizza from their mouths, as they saw you walking around in nothing but your underwear and boots.
“HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND?!” Noah roared, trying to keep up. “Get back inside and put some clothes on, now!”
“Or?” you challenged him, the wind sweeping the strands of hair from your face as you walked backward and flipped him off when he didn’t move. “Like I said: You’re pathetic.”
“What are you laughing at?”
⭑ @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard ; @iluvmewwwww75 ; @anarchydomainglory ; @foliosgirl ; @lma1986 ; @chey-h ; @supersquirrel1996 ; @zozaline
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badplayerana · 1 month ago
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Current favorite cherik fics - pt6
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 7
A bit of a different one this week, quite a few WIP in there that Ive been obsessed with and crave every update like hard drugs. enjoy <3
Best Laid Plans by InterstellarClark (WIP - updated today and ohhh my goddd)
Alpha Erik is tired of waiting for the right person to settle down with, he’s ready to be a father and have a family again. Omega Charles has lost everything, his inheritance, his job at Columbia, and needs a next step. Both of them turn to Stark Surrogacy, hoping they can find a future.
Punnett Squares and Metal Hearts by roseghoul (WIP - slow burn done RIGHT)
Charles Xavier taught biology at Westchester High School and has for the past seven years. If you were to ask his sister, Raven, then she’d say it was a waste of his Ph.D., but he was inclined to disagree. Founder of the Students With Disabilities Club, he’s created a bit of a name for himself at the school, nurturing an environment that encourages learning and acceptance. Erik Lehnsherr has thirty-six years under his belt, yet not a single one has been spent teaching, despite his Industrial Arts degree. Yet he accepted a teaching position, in the United States, of all places. Desperation for a new life would lead many to do rather rash things. After many months and piles of documents and certifications, he’s now a shop teacher at Westchester High School, and his first year is just around the corner. It’s a week before the first day of school when Erik meets Charles, and he’s put off by the optimistic man, yet curious to learn more about him. Charles, ever the kind soul, is eager to bring a new teacher under his wing, but his reasons are far from selfless, enraptured by the handsome, mysterious man with an even more mysterious history.
we recognize each other and call this love by mapofyourstars (so beautiful)
The nine times that Erik and Charles' souls met each other; and the final time their souls vowed to never be apart. A Reincarnation AU with a happy ending.
Lift me from my preconceptions by LimerenceKing (read this once, forgot to bookmark it and spent sooo long trying to find it again bc I couldnt stop thinking about it. go read!)
Online dating is hard enough, but being both mutant and disabled made it much harder for Charles. He thinks he finally finds someone, and sets out to go on a date with her.
Kintsugi by xtinethepirate (another series, perfect if you want a longer read)
When Charles had told Hank there would be a time when they would all be together again, he hadn't meant immediately. In Charles’s mind, that indeterminate time was something more along the lines of “in a few months or a year, once Erik realized what a colossal ass he had been and Charles had stopped wanting to punch him again.”
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therealcocoshady · 2 months ago
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Kinktober - Day 18 - Kneeling
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Kinktober 2024 Masterlist
A/N : So... Here is the Kinktober episode for the Day 18 "Kneeling" prompt. It also happens to be a sequel to the Day 3 "Pet play" prompt. It is not necessarily smutty but it might actually be one of my kinkiest works so far... Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. And that you don't judge me too much either.
CW : BDSM - D/S Relationship - Kneeling
Before the « pet play » bet, you thought your life would go back to normal after you were done. Except it didn’t. There were a couple of reasons for that. First of all, you had found yourself finding the experience rather enjoyable. There was something about surrendering control to someone else. In your everyday life, you wear the kind of person who tried to stay on top of everything, often to the point of exhaustion. Allowing Marshall to take control over the simplest things had proved to be soothing. It had quieted the noise in your brain in a way you never thought would be possible. You never thought you’d be able to allow someone to boss you around, let alone find it enjoyable. But it was Marshall, someone you’d known for what felt like ages. Someone you were close to and trusted. Maybe he was the one who had managed to turn this into something enjoyable. 
You had been almost surprised at how caring he could be. Before that weekend, he’d been the kind of friend you made dumb jokes with, the one who put up with your chaotic energy. But seeing that side of him… it had felt special. He seemed in his element and, though he’d been in control the whole time, the whole thing had been intimate. So intimate, in fact, that it ended with the two of you in bed. The whole thing was meant to be platonic at first but something had shifted. Sure, there had been attraction before, but none of you had acted on it. You’d always told yourself that just because he was attractive didn’t mean it would be a good idea. But that weekend, the chemistry had been evident and you’d felt a shift, some sort of certainty that he might actually be able to handle you. And he proved more than up to the challenge. That night spent together had been amazing. For the first time in years - maybe ever - you had been in a serene headspace. No intrusive thoughts taking over in the middle of the deed, no anxiety, no feeling self-conscious… and actual pleasure. Unlike previous partners, that man had actually focused on you, attentive to each one of your reactions, able to interpret every moan, every whimper. 
For some reason, you had always thought he’d be the kind to be selfish in bed but you were happy to say that he proved you wrong. The whole night, he dedicated himself to pleasuring you. You had lost counts of your orgasms and, if you were honest, the night was kind of blurry. You mostly remembered the grounding feeling of his hand on your chest and him calling you a good girl. In the following days, the memory of these two words, spoken softly in his husky voice had kept you warm. His tone echoed through your mind and one thing was for sure : you wanted more of whatever it was that had made you feel so good. 
However, the next time you saw Marshall, it became clear that it was easier for him to go back to the way things were. You were hanging out with your group of friends and he greeted you as usual, made small talk the way he always had, and joked around as if nothing had happened. It almost broke your heart. You thought you had both felt that chemistry, but obviously, you were wrong. You were a little gutted, if you were honest. The way he had cupped your cheek right before saying goodbye the morning you left his place, right after a passionate night, had made you feel like he’d definitely want it to happen again. And you absolutely thought he’d make a move, a few weeks later, when he invited you to his place so that you could actually read his prized comic book. He did no such thing. A couple of weeks in, you were resigned : it had been a one time thing. And if you wanted to explore more, you’d have to look for someone else. You were a little intimidated by it, at first, but one evening, after a couple of glasses of wine, you got online and searched for more information. You quickly went down the rabbit hole and ended up spending two days browsing subreddits, before eventually signing up for some social media website that allowed people to connect over BDSM-related stuff. The idea was to connect with people from your area, with whom you might give it a try, but you couldn’t actually bring yourself to take part to the conversations going on there. You were very much an introvert and, though you’d given online dating a try, it seemed like adding a kinky component to it was too much for your nerves to handle. You were sure that you’d enjoy exploring submission further, that finding a dom would help quiet the noise in your head. After all, Marshall had done it. But the people putting listings online, advertising that they were looking for a submissive, made it seem like it required some ivy league-level qualifications. And though Marshall had done a pretty decent job explaining the basics to you, you didn’t feel like you had what it takes. You were ready to give up on the idea when you came across a post promoting a « networking » event in Detroit, in some underground club you’d never heard of. You considered going but, once again, anxiety took over. And it wasn’t exactly as if you could ask a friend to come with you. Unless… 
You mustered up the courage of asking Marshall a few days later, while you were hanging out at his place with a couple of other friends. He went to the kitchen to grab a drink and you decided to follow him, in order to have some privacy. « So… Do you have any plans for next weekend ? » you asked innocently as he grabbed a Red Bull from the fridge. « Nothing definite, yet. Why ? » he replied with a raised eyebrow. «  Well, there is, um, a thing, and I’m thinking of going, but I’m not sure and it’s kind of- I was actually wondering if you’d come with me. But, you know, if you have plans, that’s fine. » you nervously babbled. God, you felt ridiculous. You were a grown woman, trying to connect with people over kinky shit and there you were, asking your fiftysomething year-old friend to basically hold your hand because you were nervous. « what thing ? » he asked, obviously not getting what you were referring to. In his defense, you had done a pretty bad job at getting your point across. « An event » you replied. « What event ? » he asked again before taking a sip of his drink. « it’s a… um… well I suppose you could say it’s a munch » you almost whispered. He stared at you silently for a couple of seconds and you felt compelled to elaborate. « I wanted to meet a… well you know, a dom, but it’s so nerve-wracking and I figured maybe having someone who’s been there before would help » you hummed. He kept on staring at you, without so much as blinking and definitely adding to your nervousness. « But, well, maybe going there with a friend wouldn’t be a good look… I mean, I haven’t exactly researched the etiquette or dress code of these events so, I don’t know, really… » you eventually said. The remark made him chuckle and he gave you a smile, as well as a reassuring squeeze of your shoulder. « First of all, breathe. Also, how about we talk about it later, after everyone leaves ? » he said calmly. You swallowed dryly and nodded. 
For the next two hours, you stayed mostly silent. Maybe asking him to go with you was a mistake. Maybe he thought that you giving this whole thing a try was stupid. He was one of your closest friends but you knew he could sometimes turn into a judgy prick. As the others left, you remained on the couch, nervously biting your lip. He came to sit on a chair opposite from you. « So… you want to go to a munch » he said with a smirk. You nodded, though you avoided his gaze. « Well I tried signing up on a website to meet people but… it’s absolutely terrifying. And I thought that a munch might be better but I think that’s even worse » you admitted. He calmly nodded. « You’re too anxious » he said matter-of-factly. « I mean… yeah. It’s nerve-wracking, you know ? » you replied and he nodded. « So, um, how do you meet people ? » you asked. He gave you a smile and leaned back in his chair. « Well, not at munches » he chuckled. « I mean, obviously, I can’t take the risk of someone spotting me in that kind of event » he explained. « I didn’t think about that. I shouldn’t have asked… » you started but he cut you. « Don’t worry about it. Well… I met my first sub kind of randomly. Then I gave the online thing a try but I didn’t really like it so now I use a service » he explained. You raised an eyebrow. « a service ? » you asked. « Basically a matchmaker » he shrugged. You hummed, thinking to yourself that it made sense. After all, you knew how anxious he could get about going places and, since he wasn’t a big fan of technology, opting for a matchmaking service made sense. « So… how does it work ? » you asked with a hint of curiosity, wondering if maybe you should look into something similar. « I give my requirements and if they have someone that fits the bill, they take care of the whole thing for me. NDA, meeting… then, I can do my own vetting. » he explained calmly and you nodded. And before you could even talk, he answered your question. « That type of service caters to experienced people, though » he warned.  You hummed and he could immediately sense the disappointment. He placed his drink on the coffee table and stared at you. « Anyway. Back to you… you’re looking for a dom » he stated. « Do you know what you’re looking for exactly ? ». 
You stayed silent for a couple of seconds and shrugged nervously. « I’d like to give it a try. You know, when we made that bet, I didn’t expect to enjoy it, but… I did. Not the pet aspect but being guided. So, I thought I’d … explore. » you said quietly. As you spoke, you could see something change in his eyes, some sort of interest. « what did you like ? » he asked in a low voice. « I felt… oddly at peace. As if the noise in my head disappeared. And…I didn’t mind having someone directive in bed » you admitted. He let out a low chuckle and smiled at you. « How about having someone being directive out of bed ? » he asked with a grin. « well, I suppose my boss wouldn’t mind me being better at following orders » you said with a shy smile. « I see » he hummed. The way he looked at you, as if he could see inside your mind, had your heart racing. Mentioning what had happened weeks ago, how it made you feel, had you feeling nervous. « I guess I’m just scared I might not feel as safe with someone else » you admitted. « Why look for someone else then ? » he asked with a slight smirk. You stared at him, almost dumbfounded. « Well, I- you didn’t- I mean… I assumed you would have offered if- you know » you nervously babbled. He let out a small scoff and got up, before sitting next to you. « all you had to do was ask » he said softly. « Easier said than done » you pointed out as you looked down. He smiled and placed a reassuring hand on your knee. « Y/N, it’s me. You know I don’t bite. The worse that could have happened is me declining. » he said gently and you nodded, still looking down. « The reason I didn’t offer anything is because I didn’t want to turn what happened to my advantage » he explained. « But… you enjoyed it ? » you asked. « you know I did » he scoffed. You nodded again as memories of that weekend came to mind. You remembered the way he kissed you, the way he took the lead in the bedroom, guiding you, taking control while always making sure you were alright. « So… would you… be interested ? » you asked in almost a whisper. « Interested in ? » he asked with a smile. You sighed and looked at him dead in the eyes. He knew what you meant and you knew it as well. « I think it’s important that you learn to use your words. Say what you mean. Ask for what you want. » he added with a smirk. You rolled your eyes at him. « Would you be interested in showing me more… sir ? » you asked as you looked into his eyes. He let out a chuckle and eventually nodded. « Yeah. We could give it a try » he hummed. « you free next weekend ? ». 
You gave him a smile, reassured to know that he had enjoyed your weekend together as much as you did and was willing to explore it further. « I am. I’m also free tomorrow though » you said innocently, making him chuckle and shake his head. « Can’t, tomorrow. Also, I’ll need to prepare stuff. But come next weekend and I’ll show you…  more » he said with a warm smile. 
Next weekend couldn’t come fast enough. But when it did, you were both nervous and excited. Beforehand, Marshall had texted you to confirm that you were still up for it, and gave you a few packing instructions. So far, nothing kinky. He just told you to pack your toiletries, meds, pajamas, an outfit you felt comfortable in and another one that was dressier - preferably a dress with high heels. When you arrived at his place, he greeted you with a hug and led you to the dining room. « So, this weekend is going to be a little different from what we did last time » he warned. « Obviously, for the sake of the bet, we kept it simple and easy last time. But this time, you’re going to get a better picture of what being a sub is like. Meaning that it’s not going to be me taking care of you. I mean, I will, that’s part of my job as a dom. But as a sub, you’re going to serve me. » he explained. You nodded and waited for further instruction. « Obviously, both of us have the right to stop everything at any moment. But since today is about showing you more, I thought I would do what I usually do with the subs I’m vetting, so I’ll put you to work right away. That’s ok with you ? » he asked. You nodded again, though this time, you felt a knot in your stomach. You weren’t quite sure what he meant by ‘putting you to work’. He got up and grabbed an envelope that was already on the table, before handing it to you. « Your first assignment will be pretty simple : paperwork. There’s an NDA I’m going to need you to sign. Obviously, we’re friends and I trust you, but this is standard procedure for everyone I’m seeing, so subs are no exception. There’s also forms I want you to fill in. Take your time and come to the movie room when you’re done. And feel free to come if you have any questions, ok ?» he added. He got up and quietly stared at you as you started to inspect the paperwork. Before leaving the room, he cupped your face and gave you a smile. 
You quickly read the NDA before signing it. You didn’t give it too much thought. If anything, you were fine with paperwork protecting the both of you. Of course, the consequences of anyone discovering what you were up to would be disastrous for his reputation but, even though you weren’t a public figure, you didn’t exactly want anyone to know you were involved in something BDSM-related. Especially not with one of your closest friends. For some reason, signing the NDA made it clear in your mind that you were crossing a line in your friendship. And it became even clearer as you glanced at the forms. It was basically a spreadsheet you needed to fill, regarding what you were ok with, what you’d experienced before, as well as your limits (both hard and soft). The least you could say is that the whole thing was rather detailed. You took your time to fill everything, doing some occasional googling on your phone when you needed clarification regarding some of the practices listed. You felt a little apprehensive at the idea that Marshall would be seeing this. Of course, it made sense. He had made it quite clear that the whole thing about consent and safety. But the whole form-filling felt both intimate and clinical at the same time. After a while, you went to find him in the movie room, where he was lounging in front of some  random TV show. « All good ? » he asked. « Yeah. All good. » you hummed as you handed him the small stack of paper. « That was… Dense. » you observed. He chuckled and nodded. « Told you I was putting you to work. I know it’s not the most fun but that’s an important part » he explained. You nodded and looked at him with eyes full of questions. « So… Do I get to see your checklist too ? » you asked innocently. He shook his head. « No need. What matters is your checklist. I mean, if there’s anything on there that I’m not ok with, even if you said you were fine with it, we won’t do it. But as the dom, it’s my job to tailor the whole thing to you and your needs. Not the other way around. ». He stared at you intently, his gaze conveying a seriousness you didn’t see too often. « But…  I don’t get to know what you’re into ? » you asked with a smile and a raised eyebrow. « What you need to know, you will find out soon enough » he assured with a smirk. « But for now, we have something else to focus on. Something important, actually ». 
There was a moment of silence. He got up from the couch, paused the TV show and faced you. You were in the middle of the room, which was dimly lit, with shadows that danced across the walls. Just like the rest of his house, it felt cozy and luxurious. You’d been there so often that, most of the time, you weren’t even aware of your surroundings. But now, you seemed to notice every detail. Your heart was racing in your chest. Marshall placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. « Kneel for me, please » he ordered quietly. You stared at him for a second before doing as you were told. You knelt at the center of the room, your knees pressing into the soft carpet beneath you. He gently directed you, ordering you to rest your palms on your things and keep your head down. You could feel your fingers tremble slightly and you tried your best to steady your breathing. You could hear him pace behind you, his presence filling the room. You had both agreed that this weekend would be some sort of training, an opportunity for you to see more. Your thoughts were swirling in anticipation. You had no idea what was coming next but you trusted him. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and commanding, cutting through the stillness like a blade.
« Kneeling is more than just a position, Y/N, » Marshall said, stepping into your line of sight, his eyes fixed on you. « It’s a reminder of who holds the power, of who’s in control. » Your breath caught in your throat. His voice alone made you feel small, not in a way that diminished you, but in a way that made you aware of how much you were surrendering to him. It wasn’t just about kneeling—it was about giving yourself over to him completely, about letting go of your own control. Marshall crouched down in front of you, his eyes meeting yours for the first time. There was a seriousness in his gaze, but also a hint of something else—something that spoke of patience, of care. « When you kneel for me,” he continued, “it’s not just a physical act. It’s a symbol of trust. You’re giving me your submission, and in return, I’m giving you my protection, my guidance. Do you understand that? »
You nodded, your throat tight. « Yes… Sir, » you whispered, voice trembling slightly. He tilted his head, watching you carefully, a hint of a smile tugging at his lips, though the serious frown remained.  « Words are easy, Y/N. I need to know you feel it. That you believe it. » Your gaze faltered for a moment, your mind racing. You had wanted this—craved the sense of belonging, of purpose—but now that you were here, the weight of it all pressed down on you. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You didn’t want to fail. « Look at me, » he said, his voice softer now. You lifted your eyes to meet his again, and when you did, you saw the intensity in them—the same intensity you saw in him whenever you witnessed him at work, in the studio or on stage, in the lyrics he rapped with fire and conviction. But this wasn’t the Marshall the world knew. This was the man who was about to take you under his control, and the depth of his focus on you was overwhelming. « I need you to remember something, » he said slowly, his hand brushing along your jawline, making you shiver. « When you kneel, it’s a choice. You’re choosing to trust me. You’re choosing to give me control. But once you make that choice, Y/N, you don’t get to question it. You don’t get to doubt it. When you’re down here, at my feet, I am in control. Understand? »
His thumb traced your lower lip, the touch almost tender, and yet it held a kind of power that made your stomach tighten. You felt the weight of his words, of what he was asking of you. It wasn’t just about the physical act of kneeling—it was about giving him your mind, will and obedience. « Yes, Sir, » you whispered again, but this time, there was more certainty in your voice. « Good girl, » he murmured, his eyes never leaving yours. The praise made your heart flutter, warmth spreading through you at his approval. Just like that weekend, weeks ago, when you had played the role of his pet. Marshall stood slowly, towering over you as he resumed pacing, his presence once again commanding the space around you. « When I say kneel, you drop to your knees without hesitation. It doesn’t matter where we are or what you’re doing. When I say the word, you obey. No questions, no second-guessing. » You nodded, your body already responding to the firmness in his voice. You could feel the power shift between you, the way his dominance seeped into every word, every movement. « Right now, you’re learning what it means to submit to me, » he continued, stopping in front of you again. « And I want you to understand something important—this isn’t just about control. It’s about connection. When you kneel, you’re not just giving up your power. You’re giving me something precious. And in return, I take care of you. I help you thrive. »
His words were grounding, filling you with a sense of calm amidst the uncertainty. You weren’t just kneeling for him because he demanded it—you were kneeling because you wanted to. Because you trusted him to quiet the noise in your head. Marshall circled you, his fingers brushing over your shoulder as he passed, sending a shiver down your spine. « Keep your eyes down, » he ordered, and you quickly dropped your gaze to the floor again. He stopped behind you, close enough that you could feel his breath on the back of your neck. « You’re mine, Y/N. When you’re here, in this position, I need you to remember that. You don’t need to think. You don’t need to worry. All you need to do is obey. »
Your pulse quickened at his words, a mixture of anticipation and fear swirling in your chest. You could feel the weight of his dominance pressing down on you, but it wasn’t suffocating. It was freeing. « I’m the one in control, » he said firmly. « And when you’re with me, like this, I will always be in control. Do you trust me with that? » You nodded, your voice soft but certain. « Yes, Sir. » Marshall moved back around to face you, crouching down once more so that your eyes and his were level. His hand cupped your chin, tilting your head slightly upward. « Good. Then let’s begin. »
And with that, you felt the world around you shift. You were no longer just yourself—you were his. Surrendering to him, to his control, was the first step in a new journey and you could feel it.
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hello-summ3r · 9 months ago
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reader, who is part of task force 141 is wrongly accused of being a traitor. but for some reason, despite all the torture they endured, they still forgive them.
hi guys :D im still quite new to tumblr and this is my first fic im gonna be starting. i have written before on ao3, wattpad, notes (for practise), a failed unfinished book so hopefully this will go well!
writers block may happen at some point because im kinda planning for it to be a series, if not, just a one-part fic. chances are, i wont have the energy to proof-read so if there are mistakes, please dont mind it :)
i got this idea from @ghostslittlegf . i have reblogged the post that they made that gave me the inspiration. <3
anyways, enough rambling, enjoy! <33
!tw! : t0rture, mentions of g0re, abvse, swearing, foul language, manipulation
part 1
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it wasn't you. not your fault.
days pass, and all sense of time was lost for you. you don't know how long you have been bound to this chair for, and the same nauseating scent of old blood and soil was not making it any better.
the task force placed you in a holding cell underground. the entire place was empty; it was just you, and the chilling, hollow echoes of whatever slight movement you bore from the tight knots gnawing at your wrists and ankles. your skin was blistering from the constant friction of the jagged ropes and stinging. fear was eating you alive, consuming more and more of you as each day passed. hell, it felt like an eternity down here.
the task force, the previous week, had encountered a leak in information that meant the entire team was put under danger. they were sure it was someone within the base, as nobody else would just have access to such private information.
one day, you were just in the gym training when a few men took you aside, captain price at their heels. his eyes were dark and you could see levels of anger rising inside him. you were confused, obviously. had you done anything wrong? no, you hadn't. the next thing you knew, you were here. bound and restricted.
but you didn't do anything?
"you will tell us the truth, is that clear?" price spat as he bent down to meet your eye-level. behind him were 3 other people with pistols in their hand, loaded. you couldn't make out their faces as it was dimly lit.
"truth? what do you mean?" you question, utterly confused and a little scared of this situation. your eyes dart around the cell. you've never been down here before, and everything seems so foreign. the walls were slightly cracked, the large bricks uneven in placement. moss grew from the cracks, and the stench of wet soil creeped into your nose. it was cold and damp, and disgusting. these were the holding cells you never wanted to go down into, yet here you were, forced to be in one as a prisoner.
"dont play dumb." price sneered, his face closer to yours. you backed away instinctively, looking away to avoid his gaze.
"i really don't know what you mean..." you reply with some thought whilst slightly shaking your head, trying to make sense of this whole situation. price grabs at the arm-rests of the chair with some force. it startles you but you listen to him carefully.
"we know you betrayed us. that information that got leaked? yeah, well now the entire base is in danger. we're sabotaged, all because one little birdie decided to run their traitor mouths to enemy bases." he says, sing-songingly on the last part.
your eyes widen a little at such an accusation. never would you even think of betraying the task force. they were like family to you, and the accusation sickened you deeply. even the thought was sickening. "what? you're accusing me? but why!? what's your evidence?" you desperately pry for answers. all this was so sudden.
"oh, evidence? there's plenty of evidence, sweetheart." he replies, a sarcastic and irritated chuckle woven into his speech. he stands back up and looks back at the men behind him. he nods and they walk towards you.
"what? price...what are they doing?" you cry, your voice shaking and unstable out of fear. you watch as one walks behind you, the other two standing in front on either side. price walks away, pulling the cell door open and leaving.
"price? price! captain!" you yell, but no-one answers other than your screams that reverberate emptily off the cold, damp stone.
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you wake to the sound of your cell door sliding open. it slams forcefully when it reaches the other side, which jolts you back into your senses. you blink away your exhaustion and look up at the dark figure that walks towards you. you try make out their face, and distinguish them as simon.
"simon...is that you?" you weakly mutter. your body was on the edge of breaking from the week-long physical and mental torture you had to endure.
he doesn't say anything and just walks towards you. his demeanor seemed calm and stoic but you knew what was about to happen. you took a deep breath to the best of your ability, your ribs hurting in the process, as you anticipated what he was going to do to you.
"listen, we've been a'this for a week now. you still refuse to tell us the truth. we've been too gentle with you. now, tell us the truth. or else i'll 'ave to resort to more...brutal ways." he stared at you, his gaze of pure rage that he managed to keep controlled.
"i'm innocent...i truly have nothing to say." you mumble, knowing it wasn't going to change anything.
suddenly, you feel the brute force of simon's fist against your cheek. you go limp at the pain of the punch, but you bite back tears.
"tell. me. the. truth." he demands, his voice becoming more stern and loud.
"i really don't have anything...i promise you the evidence against me are forged, and the accusations are false!" you whine, voice breaking.
another punch.
"i forgive you all for this...once you find out i'm truly innocent." you mumble with a sob in your voice, a warm, twitching smile on your face as tears brim in your eyes.
simon's eyes only narrow at you.
"i don't give a shit for whatever trickery you're pulling right now. i want the truth! so spit it out!" he demands again, just below a yell. you look away as you try contain your tears from the pain.
"i wont hesitate you batter you right now. i won't go easy like i did before, just a harsh hit here and there. tell the truth! the truth!" he yells this time, but you stay silent. your lip quivers as you try think of what to say, as you truly had no 'truth' to confess. you're not the traitor, you're innocent.
another hard blow hits your face, then another, and another. the abuse slowly turns into a result of his anger. simon had his denials, but the evidence changed his mind immediately. he was mad, infuriated that you betrayed the entire team, or at least, he thought.
"i'll forgive you, i promise." you choke under your breaking breath, trickles of blood running down from your nose and mouth.
"the truth!" he yells again before delivering another hit.
"i'll forgive you all...no matter what."
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aventurinemybeloved · 9 months ago
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Summary: Aventurine wouldn't mind being your personal mannequin forever if it meant having you this close to him
Fem!reader who's a popular fashion designer all throughout the universe, currently just "friends" with aventurine here, more like sugar daddy tho- very self indulgent because I have my oc in mind while writing this lol
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"Not that I'm questioning your process when it comes to your craft, but aren't you tired?"
"Hm nope, not at all are you?"
"I've handled far worse than just standing for a few hours, don't mind me friend, continue"
While that wasn't exactly a lie, it has been a couple of hours since Aventurine was made to be a makeshift mannequin for you, this was supposed to be a day to relax and take both your mind off work.
But it seems that inspiration has struck the minute you laid eyes on a particular fabric store that just got a new stock on a handful of interesting designs, without a second thought you rushed in, your companion had looked away for one second and the next he sees that you've already made yourself comfortable shuffling through the many options to choose from.
As he made his way back to your side, the faint sound of you mumbling under your breath could be heard clearer and clearer, while he didn't quite catch all of it, he was able to piece some things, one of which you wishing you had your mannequin back at the boutique right about now.
"Hey, why not use me for a bit?"
While Aventurine obviously isn't a mannequin, he can sure act like one if you need it, and that you did so you agreed without putting much thought into it, making a mental note to make him a little something as thanks.
And now here you two were, in the middle of the store as you try to pin fabric with your hands on Aventurine's body, he expected this to happen after all he's not the type to willingly volunteer for something without it benefiting him in some way, but he was not prepared for how close you'd be.
Practically an inch away from him, chest against his as you maneuver the fabric in your hands all over him trying to come up with a design in mind, his nose catching a whiff of your shampoo as the top of your head was practically in his face, he's mastered the art of keeping a poker face but a couple hours of this, no one can blame the man for cracking as time goes on.
Luckily for him it seems you've finally finished whatever it was you were doing, he can't even remember even though you were talking about it earlier, his mind growing muddled with serotonin.
He managed to snap out of it as you call over a worker to place an order for your chosen items, and of course pay for it, Aventurine beat you to it though handing his card while softly smiling.
"It's on me"
"What? Aventurine I can pay for it myself, there's really no need to-"
"I insist, it's a treat for how much I enjoyed being your little helper"
Just as you were about to contradict him, insisting even more that you should be the one paying since he already helped you, the worker has already swiped his card handing it back to him and walked off to prepare your order.
You could only facepalm, this wasn't the first time that he has thwarted your attempts at paying for your own things, he's done it so many times you've lost count, and while it's a fact that all of it combined wouldn't make a dent in his wallet, you still couldn't hell but feel guilty.
Not for long though as you could feel a hand gently patting your head, peaking up at him you could see a soft smile on his face.
"You know the deal~" he said in a singsong way
You playfully rolled your eyes
"Yeah yeah, Just let me know when you're free and we'll hang out again"
It was weird to you at first how that was the only thing he wanted after spending so much on you, but overtime you've sorta started to understand it, and want it as much as he does as well.
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