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chapter 6: the house party a bridgerton au
pairing ⸺ duke!satoru gojo x fem!reader
summary ⸺ dearest gentle reader, a new season is upon us as the ton gets ready for a season filled with drama, heartbreak, and passion. after being crowned diamond of the season, duke gojo⸺only looking to marry just to secure his inheritance⸺has his sights set on you, the easiest (and most obvious) option. later, when you catch his saying unsavory things about you on a terrace when he least suspected it, you swear to never marry gojo. as london's fashionable set goes through yet another wedding season, will there be hope for scandalous gossip, hate, and thinly veiled insults, or will we witness blooming love and passion?
warnings ⸺ nsfw, enemies to lovers, bridgerton au, angst, fluff, SUGGESTIVE, eventual smut, jealousy, misogyny, description of injury, concussion, blood, regency era au, gojo being infuriating, reader also being infuriating, both of them are clueless honestly
chapter summary ⸺ you are bedridden, recovering from your wound, when gojo delivers season-changing news. the house party that follows buzzes with tension, and an unexpected arrival that sends ripples through the ton (7.4k)
a/n thank you as always to the pooks @/sinn-clair for beta reading this <333 i'll see you after the chapter is over!
prev. the fall | next. soon!
general masterlist | series masterlist
Gentle Reader,
One query occupies this Author's mind, be it ladies or mamas alikeâwhat exactly are Miss Itadori and Lord Gojo up to in the countryside? Perhaps a trifling dalliance of hearts, or will the ton bear witness to a scandal uncovered when they arrive for the house party? After having arrived a week earlyâand positioned as the diamond of the seasonâone must guess that if all goes well and Miss Itadori plays her cards right, she will be showing off her new surely lavish diamond engagement ring. Yet, she must take great care, for to err in this delicate matter would be to jeopardize a most significant match with Lord Gojo. Only time shall tell the outcome of this intrigue.
⸝ LADY WHISTLEDOWNâS SOCIETY PAPERS
Upon waking, the physician informed you that you had been unconscious for some days. Though no immediate danger threatened you, it had been long enough to send both families into a state of great disquiet. It seemed that even before youâd regained full awareness, a servantâwho had gasped upon hearing your feeble request for waterâhad swiftly spread the news, for not a moment later Yuji burst into the room.
âSISTER!â he exclaims, hurtling his way towards you with heavy steps. You flinch in your position on the bed at the sound of his loud voice. âYou are awake! Mama seemed like she would faint, Choso had almost popped a bloody vein, he looked like he was about to challenge Lord Gojo to a duelââ
âYuji! My dear,â you had to shout, interrupting the boyâs ramblings, giving him an uneasy smile. âLower your volume, please. I might faint back into unconsciousness due to the strain, and this time you will be the one dueling Choso.â
The pout Yuji adopts is akin to a chastened hound as he grabs a chair to sit next to you. You take this moment to surveil your surroundings, now with a clear headedness granted to you that hadnât been granted before. There were fresh flowers adorning a vase on the table on your bedside, and you seemed to be wearing a shift, cleaned and changed out of your dirty and mud-ridden dress. There was a gauze surrounding your head, and you could feel some similar cloth on your ankle.
You turned to your brother. âNow then, what were you saying?â
He perks up. âWell, youâve been in quite a state, dear sister! Itâs not every day youâre injured before breaking fast. Choso practically spat his tea when he heard! And, of course, Duchess Gojo has been endlessly apologetic. Between Mama, Choso, and me, weâve all been in quite a state. I daresay youâre hardly known for clumsinessâalthough you do have your moments on horseback.â At the memories seemingly pooling themselves in his mind, Yuji sniggers while you shoot him a look to not be testy. âAnd Gojo has been nothing short of attentive. No doubt the manâs come in to change your flowers more than the doctorâs visited you. Heâs so caring, he even cares for a worm like you!âÂ
You ignore Yujiâs jab, instead forcing yourself not to be gripped by the fact that Gojo had been soâŚattentive to you. Of course, it was as an indirect result of his sheer vexing nature that you were bedridden in such a manner, so it should not set your heart aflutter like a foolish girl. But your traitorous heart seems to hate listening to reason.Â
You begin to nod slowly. âAnd how many days have I been out? When is the house party?â Taking a gander at the windows in the room you were situated in, you could see the moon and starâs light filtering the curtains. You werenât sure if it was the evening or night or completely early in the morning.
He looks up to the ceiling, as if calculating something, brows furrowed. âToday.â
Groaning, you put your head in your hands, playing with your hair as it falls through the gaps of your fingers. âMother is going to kill me.â
âOh, indeed,â Yuji replied with a hum, stretching his arms in a cat-like yawn. âNow, I must get back to my rest. The servants were gossiping near my door, so I thought Iâd see for myself that you werenât dead.â He kissed you on the cheek before heading to the door. âSleep, sister, for I expect Mama will tire you endlessly come morning.â
Later, a gentle nudge at your arm and a few soft âMiss! Wake up!ââs roused you from sleep. You opened your eyes to find a maid hunched over you, relief clear in her expression as you met her gaze with a drowsy squint. âMiss, Lord Gojo requests your presence. May I allow him in?â
With a nod, you fought off your annoyance at having been disturbed. The maid, visibly flustered, hurried to admit Gojo, who soon approached with quiet footsteps. As you propped yourself up, arms crossed, you gave him a mildly reproachful look. âGojo, youâve roused me from my slumber. I trust this is a matter of utmost importanceâ-â you began, then trailed off as you took in his expression.
He was taut, as though his very sinews were wound tight. Standing rigidly, his jaw clenched, his gaze flitted everywhere but to you. Troubled, you tried, âGojo?â
At the sound of his name, he looked sharply at you and seemed to gather himself. âAh⌠forgive me.â He took a seat and smiled, though it didnât reach his eyes, artificial. âHow is your recovery?â You eye him suspiciously. His leg is moving up and down anxiously, the action minute in a way that makes you think heâs not aware of doing it. The tight and strained smile on his face seems uncanny, his concern seeming out of place. âWell, as much as it can be for me bleeding out pints and pints of blood from my head,â at that, you note that he subtly flinches, âbut all is well!â You spread out your arms and give him a dazzling smile, and his eyes follow. âIâm sure my mama and my maid are itching to rush in here to prepare me for the house party.â Giving him a playful glare, you continue, âAnd just for the pain you caused me, you ought to have two dances and a few pastries prepared tonight.â
At that, he looks at you for a quick glance before quickly turning away, seemingly collecting himself. In what you could observe in his previous expression, you were surprised to see yearning present in his blue eyes, filled with feelings that perplexed you. Gojo was acting very odd.
Then, he drew in a measured breath, his jaw clenched as if bracing himself for what he was about to say. He finally looked at you, a shadowed intensity in his gaze that made your heart beat fasterânot in the way it used to when his eyes sparked with wit, but with a sense of foreboding.
"Miss Itadori," he began, his voice lower, lacking the familiar, teasing cadence. "I must apologize for the trouble I have brought upon you. I was⌠heedless, perhaps even reckless, and it seems I have caused you nothing but suffering."
You frowned, confusion beginning to bubble beneath the surface as he paused, clearly struggling to continue. He seemed almost pitiable, looking down at his hands, which were tightly woven together, his knuckles pale. But pity was not a feeling you had patience for. Not now. Not with Gojo of all people.
"Trouble?" you repeated, folding your arms. "I do believe that's an understatement, my lord. A mere misstep, surely?"
His eyes flicked back to yours, the corner of his mouth tugging in a grim semblance of a smile. "Understatement or not, it remains the truth," he replied, his voice nearly a murmur. "I cannot in good conscience continue this⌠attachment we have formed. The position of courtship our mamas have placed us in. For I fear it is you who stands to lose most dearly if I remain by your side."
You stiffened, his words crashing over you like a cold wave. "Attachment?" you said, bitterness coloring the word. "Do not dress it up with such kind words, Lord Gojo. An attachment is something formed with care, with respectâqualities you seem to find inconvenient."
He winced but did not break eye contact. "I will not argue with you," he said softly, voice steady in its regret. "Perhaps I am no master of attachments, nor have I ever claimed to be. But know that I had never wished to see you harmedâ"
"Harmed?" you interrupted, your voice growing louder as anger swelled within you. "Is this some twisted apology, then? A show of remorse for the inconvenience of your whims?"
Gojo opened his mouth to respond, but you did not allow him the chance.
"How very noble of you, Lord Gojo," you continued, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "After all this time, to simply say, 'Forgive me; I shall now remove myself from your life,' as if that makes up for the chaos youâve brought upon me? As if I am but a pawn to be moved at your discretion?"
His face softened slightly, as if he were seeing something in you he hadn't fully expectedâa quiet resolve beneath your anger, a dignity that refused to be bruised. "No, Miss Itadori," he said quietly. "I do not wish to see you as a pawn. After all, from what I understand is that you do not know what you desireâand I would only be exploiting that. I only⌠I only wish to relieve you of the burdens I seem to bring."
You laughed, the sound bitter and laced with fury. "Know what I want? As if you do, dropping pretenses with commoners and putting on your mask for the ton. And relieve me? I donât think you understand what it is youâve done, Gojo."
This conversation was dangerous. The emotions you hid under the air of nonchalance were steadily bubbling up, and it seemed that now, your sentiments were threatening to boil over at the sheer audacity of Gojo breaking off this arrangement, of what the ton would think today if he were to be avoiding you like the plague.
He flinched at the sound of his name on your lips, spoken with such venom. A muscle in his jaw ticked, but he made no move to respond, simply watched as you gathered your thoughts, your gaze piercing.
"All this time," you said, each word sharper than the last, "I was led to believe there was something more to your attentions. And now, you simply wash your hands of it? You think yourself a gentleman for doing so?"
"Miss Itadori," he said, his voice strained. "I amâ"
"You are a coward," you spat, and his eyes widened, the faintest hint of pain flashing in their depths. "Yes, thatâs right. A coward, for trying to protect yourself under the guise of protecting me. All this talk of 'relieving me'âdo not act as if your decision was made out of kindness." (a/n: OH NO SHE DIDNTTTTT)
"Do you not understand?" he interjected, a sudden fierceness in his voice, his composure beginning to slip. "This is not some petty whim, nor a game. My intentions⌠they were never meant to bring you harm, but they did. And I cannot bear to see it continue."
"Bear to see it continue?" you repeated incredulously. "Do you think I am some doll, some trifle to discard at your convenience?"
"That was never my intent!" he exclaimed, voice rising in frustration. "If you would but see reasonâ"
"Reason? From you?" you laughed bitterly, barely able to contain the fury welling up inside you. "Your idea of reason is nothing more than self-preservation, Lord Gojo. How convenient it must be to absolve yourself of guilt by deciding I am better off without you."
He fell silent, the anger in his face ebbing, replaced by a kind of desperation. "You do not understand," he said, quieter, almost pleading. "If I were to stay⌠if I were to court you in earnest, it would not be the life you think it to be."
"Then let that be my choice to make," you shot back, crossing your arms. "But noâthis is not about my well-being, not truly. It is about you, Gojo. It has always been about you."
A tense silence stretched between you, filled only by the soft, uneven breaths that escaped both of you. For a moment, neither dared to speak, both caught in the tangled emotions that hung thick in the air.
Finally, Gojo looked down, his eyes shuttered, his voice weary. "Then hate me, if you must. But I am done with this charade."
"Hate you?" you repeated, the word tasting strange on your tongue. "No, Lord Gojo. Hatred would imply I care enough to feel anything toward you."
Your entire body seethed with fury, every muscle trembling with the strain of keeping yourself upright, sitting on your bed. You couldn't storm outânot with your wounded leg refusing to bear even a fraction of the anger swelling within you. Instead, you pushed yourself up on shaking arms, glaring at him with such venom that he instinctively stepped back.
"Get out," you spat, the words laced with ice, your voice rising as if to fill the entire room. "Out! Now, Gojoâleave me this instant!"
He froze, his shoulders tense as he looked at you with something unreadable, but he made no move toward the door.
"I said leave!" you shriekedâyour voice shrillâthe strain of it making you nearly lose balance, but you didn't care. Hot tears stung your eyes, and you bit them back, forcing yourself to breathe through the betrayal clawing at your chest. "Take your false apologies, your noble pretensions, and get out of my sight. Go, and never, ever darken my door again."
His mouth opened, as if he might say somethingâperhaps even something that might soothe the jagged edges of your heart. But your furious gaze dared him to try.
With a pained expression, he finally gave a nod, stepping back toward the door. He lingered for a moment, one last helpless look crossing his face before he turned away, leaving without another word.
The door clicked shut, and you were left alone, shaking with fury, your breath ragged. Your eyes were still on that door, your heart racing, as though expecting him to come back, to take it all back, to be the man you'd witnessed yesterday. But deep down, you knew he would not return.
The first glimmers of morning filtered through the heavy drapes as you stirred awake, still dazed from the events that had left you bedridden. The memories of Gojoâs departure settled heavily on your chest, like a stone dropped in a lake, rippling outward and disturbing any possibility of calm. Your mind drifted over the previous nightâs argument, replaying words, and then, with a cringe, the heated moments where you felt every last ounce of self-restraint slip from your grasp.
A small part of you reasoned that you may have been rashâthat your anger and hurt had overtaken good sense. After all, it was you who deemed your and Gojoâs match impossible. So why were you so hurt?
Before you could linger on these thoughts, there was a soft knock at your door.Â
"Come in," you murmured, propping yourself up gingerly.
What followed soft footsteps was Choso, his gaze warm and steady as he entered, carrying the ease of familiarity that only he could. As he approached, he pulled a chair beside your bed and gave a faint smile.
Choso stepped in quietly, his face softened by a rare smile as he approached. âAwake at last,â he said gently, taking a seat beside you with the care one might afford a delicate flower. "I was beginning to think you'd sleep through the entire house party."
He reached out, his hand resting on the crown of your head, fingers slipping through your hair in a soothing rhythm. The fondness in his touch eased the last of the stiffness in your frame, a balm against the soreness both physical and emotional.
âYou worry too much,â you muttered, allowing yourself to lean into the comfort he offered, your voice softening as his hand continued to gently scratch at your scalp.
âYou look better today,â he said softly, continuing his familiar, soothing rhythm with his fingers. âThough, Iâll admit, you gave us all quite a scare.â
You managed a small smile, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease slightly under his touch. âI suppose I was overdue for a bit of excitement,â you murmured, though the attempt at levity felt thin, even to your own ears.
Chosoâs hand stilled momentarily, and his gaze grew searching as he looked at you. âWhat truly happened yesterday?â he asked, his voice low with concern. âThereâs more here than an unfortunate fall, isnât there?â
You stiffened slightly, glancing away from him. âIt was nothing,â you replied, willing your tone to sound convincing. âJust⌠an ill-timed accident. Nothing to concern yourself with.â
But Choso was not so easily deterred. He watched you closely, his brow furrowing with worry. âYouâve always been a poor liar, sister,â he murmured. âIf something happened, you know you can tell me. I only want to understand.â
The quiet earnestness in his tone gnawed at you, and for a moment, you considered confiding in him. But the idea of revisiting last nightâs turmoil felt too raw, too immediate. âIâm fine, truly,â you insisted, meeting his gaze with as much steadiness as you could muster. âIt was⌠nothing that canât be mended with rest.â
Chosoâs gaze lingered on you, his fingers resuming their gentle tracing along your scalp as if that alone could soothe whatever burden you were carrying. âWell,â he finally said, his tone filled with fond exasperation, âI wonât press you. But I trust youâll speak of it when you feel you are ready.â
You gave a slight nod, grateful for his restraint. The quiet between you was comforting, grounding, as he continued his rhythmic motions, easing your thoughts in a way that words could not.
After a long moment, he broke the silence again, his tone lighter this time. âOn a more cheerful note,â he began, a faint smile playing on his lips, âyouâll have another visitor tomorrow.â
âOh?â you asked, raising an eyebrow, though a part of you already guessed who he meant.
âYes,â he confirmed, a knowing glint in his eye. âSukuna received word of your injury and set off at once. Heâll be here by morning.â
You let out a small breath, a mixture of relief and trepidation filling you. âTomorrow, then,â you repeated, feeling a hint of warmth at the thought. âIt seems my brothers cannot resist making a fuss.â
Choso chuckled, squeezing your hand gently. âItâs what weâre here for. And perhaps Sukunaâs presence will help you feel a bit more at ease during the house party. Heâll see to it that no one bothers you unduly.â
You couldnât help but smile at that, the thought of Sukunaâs reassuring, if overbearing, presence lifting your spirits slightly. âWell, at least thereâs that to look forward to,â you murmured, and, with a soft sigh, leaned back against your pillows, letting Chosoâs calming presence ease the lingering shadows of last nightâs ordeal, even if temporary.
For you had a beast of a social gathering to deal with today, the same one where the ton would descend upon the outcome of your match, ready to laugh at you: the house party.
âHe what?âÂ
You flinched, scowling as you clutched your ears. Nobaraâs shrill voice was not helping your recovery, nor were her rough combs through your hair; but alas, beauty has a price, and itâs one youâre reluctantly willing to pay. You oh-so terribly wanted to politely decline the formal invitation, but it seemed that the moment you woke, your mother was dead set on getting you ready for what she thought was your engagement party. Little did she know that her not so future in law had gotten rid of you as if you were a stray animal latched onto him, but who were you to burst her bubble?
Perhaps you ought to dread the inevitable fallout from your mother when the truth emerged, but you consoled yourself with the thought of drowning your sorrows in champagne tonight, delaying her wrath for at least a little while. Besides, the prospect of Sukunaâs impending arrival tomorrow brought you some comfort; his unruly nature often served as a distraction from your own troubles.
You sighed heavily, meeting Nobaraâs furious gaze in the mirror. âHe merely said he wished to absolve me of any trouble he had caused.â
âGood riddance!â Nobara shrieked, her hand furiously waving around the hair brush in a way that made you wary, for it would not be pleasant for it to make contact with your already tender head. âHe was never the one for you to pursue, for he lacks the honor of a true gentleman! And yetâoh, heavens!â She gestured at you accusingly with the brush, her tone turning sharp. âWhy, pray, do you appear so disheartened?â
You open your mouth immediately, indignant and expecting your wit, your usual ally, to conjure a response for you, only to be left open-mouthed when it came up short. Nobara seemed to sense your hesitance, opening her mouth to unleash yet another accusatory and reprimanding remark, but you quickly moved to fill your silence. âI suppose I am justâŚoffended that he dare reject me, the diamond. The ton will seize upon this dissolution with glee. They shall revel in my supposed failure, for it will be indicative of my failure to the Queen.â
Nobara arched a brow, her skeptical silence speaking volumes. She clearly wasnât convinced, and before she could level another charge against you, a knock sounded at the door.
âSister, are you decent?â
âEnter, Choso,â you called out, hastily adjusting the neckline of your pale pink gown and straightening the strand of pearls around your neck.
Nobara opened the door, though she made no attempt to soften her posture. The hairbrush remained firmly in her grasp, poised like a weapon, and Choso cast it a wary glance as he stepped inside. His presence brought a sense of calm, even as his expression betrayed some inner turmoil. He hesitated for a moment before moving to sit at the edge of your vanity, his gaze flickering between you and Nobara.
You narrowed your eyes, suspicious of his silence. âWell, brother? Out with it,â you urged, though your voice lacked its usual sharpness.
He sighed, clearly reluctant. âVery well,â he began. âPray, hear me out. You know I have never hidden my disapproval of Lord Gojo.â At the sound of that name, you flinched, though you quickly masked it with a curt nod. Choso continued nonetheless, his tone steady but earnest. âIn light of recent events, I have taken it upon myself to formâŚa contingency plan of sorts.â
Your curiosity was piqued, though Nobara snapped at you to sit still as she continued combing through your hair. âGo on,â you said, trying to sound nonchalant.
Choso leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as though to ensure Nobara wouldnât interrupt. âI have had the pleasure of conversing at length with Duke Nanami.â
You arched a brow, intrigued despite yourself. âThe Duke Nanami?â
âYes,â Choso confirmed. âHe is an esteemed gentleman of considerable character, and, as fortune would have it, he is not currently pursuing anyone this season.â
Your lips parted, but no words came. Chosoâs intent was clear, and the weight of his proposition settled over you like an unexpected storm. Nobara, meanwhile, had stilled entirely, her hairbrush forgotten in her hand as she turned to gawk at your brother.
âIs this,â she began, her voice disbelieving, âyour solution to Gojoâs appalling behavior? To thrust her into the path of another?â
Choso shrugged, unbothered by her skepticism. âA better match by far, I would argue. The Duke has no such inclinations to trifling or dishonor.â
You sighed, leaning back as the tension in the room thickened. âAnd what makes you so certain the Duke would even entertain such an arrangement?â you asked, your voice tinged with a weariness you hadnât intended to show.
Choso gave you a small smile, his hand reaching out to pat your shoulder. âLeave that to me, dear sister. For now, focus on enduring tonightâs ordeal. Tomorrow, you may take comfort in Sukunaâs arrivalâand in the knowledge that your prospects are not as grim as they seem.â
You exhaled, unsure whether to feel gratitude or exasperation, as Choso rose from his seat. Whatever plans he had in motion, they would unfold in time. For now, you could only prepare yourself for the chaos that awaited.
Gojo had outdone himself. Truly, magnificently outdone himself.
From the moment you entered the house, your hand resting lightly on Chosoâs arm, the stares began. They werenât the polite glances reserved for new arrivals at such gatheringsâthese were sharp, lingering, and accompanied by a cacophony of whispers that only heightened your unease.
You straightened your back, chin held high, determined not to give any of them the satisfaction of seeing your discomfort. But it was impossible to ignore the way every eye seemed to follow you, every head turned to observe as you passed. Whatever it was that had stirred this interest, you were certain Gojo was at the heart of it.
Feeling the oppressive smog of stares, you knew where you could find solace: the drinks table, where you could down a flute of champagne alongside your stress. And right as you excuse yourself from Chosoâs hold, who is now looking in the general direction of some menâparticularly a gaggle of men that included Lord Geto and Duke Nanami, who were looking at something in the direction of the dance floor with interest. As you walk, you take in the scene: a beautiful chandelier, and red drapings and coverings embellished with gold, a bloody alternative to the Gojo icy blue. Youâre not sure why todayâs ensemble of colors didnât include blue, but you believe it is fitting for whatâs going to happen to you after this party is over and your mother finds out about the elephant in the room.Â
And as you glance longingly at the couples gliding across the floor, their movements synchronized with the lilting strains of the orchestra, your breath catches.
It is then that you see him.
Gojo Satoru is spinning a girl across the dance floor, his coat tails trailing like ribbons in the air. His lips move as he speaks, the tilt of his head paired with that too-familiar smirk. His partner laughs at something heâs said, a soft sound that reaches you even from this distance. You could almost identify herâthere is no debutante in the ton you have not cataloged, no rival whose dossier you do not possessâbut tonight, it does not matter. She is just a blur of chiffon and curls, another face in a sea of women enthralled by him.
Your chest tightens as you take in the scene, a memory unspooling unbidden.
Is this what your first dance with Gojo had looked like to others? Did you appear as enraptured as this girl, your steps as confident and sure beneath his lead? You remember his light touch at your back, his questions whispered so quietly you doubted even the orchestra could eavesdrop, his eyes full of a charm so practiced it felt like a spell cast just for you.
And yet now, the spell is broken.
He is steering herâsteering everythingâwith such ease that it almost makes you laugh. Were he not so infuriating, you might have admired his grace, the way he seamlessly dominates both the conversation and the dance. His amusement is evident in the quirk of his brow, the corners of his mouth curling with every word she utters, no doubt answering his questions with meek enthusiasm.
She is simple. You can tell from the way he looks at her, the way he pauses before replying as if translating his own thoughts into something digestible for her. The way she beams at himâunaware of how deeply he calculates every moveâis almost endearing. Almost.
He is drawing the same conclusions he did of you. Simple, lacking substance.Â
The thought leaves a sour taste in your mouth.Â
But then the girl laughs again, a little too loud, and Gojoâs expression flickers for just a secondâlong enough for you to notice. His smile tightens, his gaze sliding briefly across the room as though searching for something more stimulating. It is instinctual, this glance, and his head tilts in such a way that you know it will land on you if you linger a moment longer.
Your heart stutters in protest, your legs already moving.
Punch table. Right.
As you near it, you grab the closest drink and down it one sip, desperate for the cool of the liquid to calm both your throat and your heated mind, furious with thoughts and anxiety of those around you. And it was just as you begin to set down the cool glass that in your periphery comes the man who soon tests your resolve.
âMiss Itadori,â a voice drawled behind you, the unmistakable lilt of smugness weaving through it.
You turned, and there stood Naoya Zenâin, his grin as unctuous as ever. He bowed slightly, though the gesture felt more like mockery than courtesy. âI must say, you are positively radiant tonight.â
You inclined your head ever so slightly, each movement deliberate. âMr. Zenâin. How kind of you to say.â
He grinned, and the sight was unsettling, a serpent preparing to strike. âRadiant, yes. A pity Lord Gojo has finally come to his senses and moved on. I thought the two of you might actually prove interesting.â
Your stomach churned, but you kept your expression serene. âI fail to see how my affairs are of interest to you, Mr. Zenâin.â
âOh, but they are,â he said, stepping closer, his voice lowering as though he were sharing a confidantâs secret. âEveryone is watching, you know. Wondering why Lord Gojo isâŚotherwise occupied tonight.â He tilted his head, motioning discreetly toward the mantle, a few meters away, where Gojo stood, entertaining and welcoming another lady.
Your eyes betrayed you, flicking briefly in that direction. Gojoâs figure remained in your periphery, still close enough to notice but far enough to be unattainable. You tore your gaze away, unwilling to feed Naoyaâs glee.
Naoya leaned in, his tone growing more audacious. âQuite the spectacle, wouldnât you agree? Though perhaps itâs for the best. You have much to offer, Miss Itadoriâbreeding hips, for one.â
The words hit you like a slap, your mind reeling in fury and disbelief. Your breath hitched, but before you could muster a scathing retort, something else caught your attention.
Gojoâs hand, resting casually against the column, tightened into a fist. The movement was subtle, but unmistakableâa barely contained tension that you might have missed if you werenât already attuned to his every breath, his every twitch.
Still, you refused to look directly at him. Whatever he felt, it mattered not.
âMr. Zenâin,â you began, voice icy and measured, though the rage burned beneath the surface, âyour comments are as inappropriate as they are unwelcome. I suggestââ
âSister.â
Chosoâs voice interrupted like a lifeline thrown to a drowning sailor. You turned to see your older brother approaching, his expression calm but his eyes sharp as they darted between you and Naoya. He came to your side, his imposing presence creating an impenetrable wall between you and the unwelcome intruder.
âMr. Zenâin,â Choso greeted with a curt nod, his tone laced with a warning. âI trust youâll excuse my sister. She and I were just about to take a turn about the room.â
Naoyaâs grin faltered, but he recovered quickly, stepping back with a mocking bow. âOf course. Do enjoy your evening.â
Choso wasted no time, offering his arm to you. You took it gratefully, your legs unsteady as he guided you away from the scene and toward a quieter corner of the ballroom.
âAre you all right?â he asked softly, his voice gentle but firm, as though bracing himself for a truth he might not like.
You nodded, though the words escaped you. Your hands trembled slightly, and Choso placed his over yours, steadying you. âI saw the way you looked,â he murmured, his voice quieter now. âAt Lord Gojo.â
Your breath caught, but you said nothing, focusing instead on the steady rhythm of your brotherâs steps.
âWhatever heâs doneâor hasnât doneâyou are worth far more than his regard,â Choso continued, his tone resolute. âDo not forget that.â A pause. âAre you all right, Sister?â
âI am fine,â you lied, though your trembling hands betrayed you.
The evening only worsened from there.
More and more, you felt the weight of curious glances, the whispers growing louder as the night wore on. The absence of Gojoâs attention did not go unnoticedâleast of all by your mother, who approached you and Choso with a determined expression, her fan snapping shut with a sharp flick of her wrist.
The warmth of the ballroomâs lights could not thaw the ice that slipped down your spine as your mother approached. Her movements were poised as ever, but the tightness in her lips and the fury barely hidden in her eyes told you everything. She stopped just short of you, her fan snapping shut with a sharp click that made you flinch.
âExplain,â she hissed, her voice low enough to avoid drawing the attention of onlookers but sharp enough to carve into you.
Your breath caught in your throat. You glanced towards Choso for reinforcement, but his furrowed brow and subtle shake of his head told you he would not interveneânot yet.
âI⌠donât understand, Mother,â you murmured, though the words tasted hollow even as you said them.
âDo not toy with me, child,â she snapped, her tone still hushed but more cutting. âThe entire room is whispering. Where is Lord Gojo? Why has he not so much as glanced in your direction tonight? Why is heââ Her eyes darted to the waltz floor, where Gojo had just excused himself from yet another partner. âWhy is he dancing with others while you stand here like a forgotten debutante?â
The words hit like a slap, and you flinched again, your gaze falling to your gloved hands. You wanted to speak, to explain, but the lump in your throat grew larger with every second.
Her voice softened but grew no less fierce. âWhat have you done?â
Your chest tightened, and for a fleeting moment, you considered telling her everythingâabout the garden, about Gojoâs words, about how utterly humiliated you had felt. But then the heat of the ballroom pressed down on you, the glances from curious onlookers prickling your skin like needles.
You couldnât. Not here.
So, you said nothing.
The silence between you stretched thin, your motherâs patience fraying with every passing moment. Finally, she straightened, her lips pressed into a pale line. âThis is how you repay all that has been done for you?â she whispered, her voice trembling with restrained fury. âDo you even comprehend what this will do to your prospects? To this family? You have disgraced yourself, and worseâyou have disgraced me.â
Her words left you hollow, the guilt settling into the spaces where indignation might have taken root. Still, you could not look up, nor could you summon any defense.
Your motherâs fan snapped open again with a sharp flick, the motion more violent than graceful. âWe are leaving,â she declared, turning abruptly on her heel. âNow.â
Choso stepped closer, his hand brushing lightly against your elbow as if to steady you. You dared a glance at him, finding his gaze steady and quietly supportive. It was only his presence that kept your legs moving as you followed your mother toward the grand doors.
The weight of the roomâs collective gaze bore down on you with every step. The music swelled in the background, mocking you with its cheerfulness. As you neared the exit, your feet faltered.
And then you saw him.
Gojo.
He stood near the edge of the dance floor, his posture uncharacteristically tense, his jaw clenched tightly, his usual easy confidence dimmed. His head tilted slightly, his eyes cutting through the crowd to meet yours.
Your breath hitched. In his gaze, you saw regretâyearning, evenâand something else you couldnât quite name.
But it didnât matter.
You tore your eyes away, your jaw tightening as a steely resolve settled over you.
You would not break.
Not here. Not now. Not for him.
As you stepped into the cool night air, you drew in a deep breath, willing the ache in your chest to dissipate. Gojo Satoru had taken enough from you. Your heart, your dignityâno more.
If he thought you would crumble, he was mistaken.
He would regret this, you vowed silently.
And you would make certain of it.
The morning that came in a few days was no less disheartening than the night of the house party. The morning sun filtered weakly through the gauzy curtains of the drawing room, casting pale, lackluster patterns on the carpet. Even the sunlight seemed hesitant, as if it knew it had no place in the solemn atmosphere that hung over your family.
Even Yuji was solemn as you all sipped on your tea, the drawing room oddly quiet as you reflected in the aftermath of the past few days. The events of the house party still loomed over you. Your familyâs hasty departure had been punctuated by the sight of your mother in whispered conversation with Duchess Gojo, their faces tight with the bitterness of dashed expectations. You had no doubt they had commiserated over your perceived recklessness and Gojoâs insolence, lamenting how the perfect match they had orchestrated had unraveled before their very eyes.
You had borne it all in silence.
But now, in the cold light of morning, your resolve felt brittle.
Your hands tightened around your teacup as you stared into the amber liquid, your reflection rippling with each shallow breath you took. Independence? That word felt hollow. You had fought for it, yes, but at what cost? The tonâs whispers had already begun. You could feel their weight pressing on you, suffocating in their judgment. The laughter and speculation at your expense would echo through parlors and ballrooms for weeks, if not months.
And yet, deep down, there was a spark of defiance. They thought this was your undoing. They thought you would crumble. But they had no idea.
"Why does it feel like weâre mourning?" Yuji muttered, breaking the silence. His voice was quiet, but the sarcasm was unmistakable. "Itâs not as though anyone has died."
Your motherâs sigh this time was louder, sharper, and followed by a pointed glance in his direction. âYuji, do not jest,â she snapped. "This is no laughing matter."
Choso, who had been reclining with one arm draped lazily over the armrest of his chair, sat up straighter. âMother,â he said cautiously, his voice soft but steady, âI think itâs time we address whatâs truly troubling you.â
Her handkerchief stilled in her lap. For a moment, the room was silent again, the tension thick enough to choke on.
âTroubling me?â she repeated, her tone icy. âYou think I am troubled, Choso?â
âEveryone is troubled,â Choso replied, his gaze flicking briefly to you. "But perhaps if you said whatâs on your mind, we could all breathe a little easier."
Your motherâs lips thinned as she sat up straighter, her shoulders stiff. âVery well,â she said sharply, âif you must know, I am ashamed.â
The word hit you like a slap, even though you had expected it. You gritted your teeth, staring down at your tea to hide the flush of anger and embarrassment creeping up your neck.
âAshamed of what?â you asked quietly, your voice tighter than you intended.
âOf you,â she replied without hesitation. âOf the scandal you have brought upon this family. Do you think your actions have no consequences? Do you think the ton will simply overlook yourâŚâ She hesitated, clearly searching for the most cutting word. âYour antics with Lord Gojo?â
You felt Choso stiffen beside you, his protective instincts clearly flaring, but you held up a hand to stop him. You wouldnât hide behind your brothersânot this time.
âI have done nothing wrong,â you said, your voice low but firm. âGojo and I made a mutual decision that we were incompatible. Weââ
âYou humiliated yourself!â she interrupted, her voice rising. âAnd by extension, this family. Do you think people are speaking of him? No! It is you they ridicule. It is your name they sully.â
Your chest burned with anger and hurt, but before you could retort, Yuji shifted uncomfortably, muttering, âThis is getting out of handâŚâ
âYou think I care about their opinions?â you snapped, finally lifting your gaze to meet your motherâs. âThe ton has always been cruel. They would find a reason to gossip no matter what I did. I refuse to live my life pandering to their expectationsââ
âAnd look where that refusal has left you,â your mother interrupted, her voice shaking with fury. âUnmarried. Ruined. Who will have you now?â
You flinched, the words cutting deeper than you thought possible. Your lips parted, but no words came out. What could you possibly say to that?
The silence that followed was deafening.
Until a voice, smooth and amused, broke it.
âNow, now, Mother. I know youâve always had a flair for the dramatic, but let us not turn your theatrics onto our dearest sister.â
All heads turned toward the entrance, where a figure lounged against the doorway, his presence commanding without even trying. There he stoodâSukuna, your brother, looking entirely too pleased with himself for someone who had kept you waiting for days. Both you and Yuji involuntarily gasped in excitement, while Choso only shook his head in amusement and crossed his arms.
He strode into the room with an air of nonchalance, his tailored attire immaculate, his smile one of mocking amusement. His gaze flicked to your mother, then to you, lingering for a moment as if to appraise the damage left in her wake.
âGood morning,â he said smoothly, the corners of his mouth curling. âI trust Iâve arrived in time to save you from a most tiresome sermon.â
Your mother bristled, but her voice faltered, her ire now redirected. âSukuna, this is hardly the time for your irreverenceââ
âAnd yet here I am,â he interrupted, dropping into a chair with the kind of ease that only Sukuna could muster. He leaned back, his sharp gaze softening just slightly as it fell on you. âI thought you might appreciate a reprieve. You seem to have had enough lectures for a lifetime.â
You could feel tears welling in your eyes. You had severely underestimated how much you missed your elder brother, seeing his presence stir a fondness and comfort you hadnât felt ever since he left for Europe. And it seemed that your brothers shared your sentiment; Yuji was basically on his haunches, doing everything he could not to leave his chair to tackle Sukuna, and Choso barely holding in an amused smile.Â
âStill causing chaos wherever you go, I see,â Choso said dryly, though there was no malice in his tone.
Sukuna smirked. âSomeone has to keep things interesting.â
Your mother huffed, her lips pressing into a thin line as she rose from her seat. âI refuse to be made a fool in my own home. Sukuna, do try not to corrupt your siblings further while I attend to matters of actual importance.â She swept out of the room with her usual imperious grace, leaving a silence in her wake.
As soon as she left, you left your chair to basically jumping on him, hugging him tightly as he reciprocated your hug with wrapping his big arms around yours with equal fervor. âKuna,â you whispered, burying your face into his chest as the tears started flowing. His presence surrounded you, offering you a comfort and familiarity that the eventful weeks, ever since your debut, hadnât offered
Sukuna looked down to you with a raised brow as he patted your head affectionately. âWell, that was entertaining. Now, whoâs going to tell me what truly happened while I was gone?â
prev. the fall | next. soon!
general masterlist | series masterlist
a/n hi everyone!!! so i lied and said the update wasn't gonna take as long #womaninmalefields BUT thank you for your patience <3
so uh....we are now gonna enter the arc with DRAMAA. there will be yearning, there will be angst, and soon after, there will be fluff. idk if anyone needs to hear this, but, again, this series will have a happy ending. if anyone is sad, don't worry. i'm going to make gojo grovel <3
SUKUNA IS BACK SUKUNA IS BACK what do we think?! spoiler alert this is what sukuna will wanna do to gojo after reader spills the tea
THANK U FOR READING!!! rest assured reader a BADDIE there will be some showing ankles and lowering bustlines to start our reputation era and infuriate gojo but u didnt hear that from me !!!
comment and reblog to let me know ur thots ;3
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Period Cramps
You find Rogue, Jean and Storm complaining that men don't get period cramps.
professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair
a/n: Hehehe i saw a art (from@pequena_padawan on tiktok) of scott being projected with period cramps so i wrote this.
read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here
âI swear, men just donât get it,â Rogue complained, stretching out on the couch with a dramatic sigh.
You walked into the living room with a raised brow, catching the exasperated look on her face. âMen donât get what?â you asked, setting your mug down and joining them.
Jean glanced up from where she sat, an amused smirk playing on her lips. âPeriod cramps,â she replied. âRogue was just telling us how Remy thought a heating pad would magically make everything betterâlike thatâs all it takes.â
Ororo shook her head with a chuckle. âOh, thatâs nothing. I once had Kurt ask me if periods actually hurt, or if women just liked to be dramatic about it.â She raised an eyebrow, and all of you groaned.
âTell me about it,â you muttered, flopping down on the couch beside Rogue. âOne time, Logan had the audacity to say, âIt canât be that bad, right?â Iâve never seen a man regret his words so fast.â
Rogue laughed, nudging you. âLogan? Mr. Tough Guy said that?â She grinned, shaking her head. âI thought heâd be more careful with that mouth of his around you.â
âTrust me, even Logan has his clueless moments,â you replied, rolling your eyes. âSometimes I think men are just wired to be oblivious about this stuff.â
Right on cue, Logan and Scott walked into the room, their arms full of bags from a grocery run. They exchanged glances, clearly sensing the united front of irritation in the room, but Logan couldnât help himself.
âWhatâs with the looks?â Logan asked, raising an eyebrow.
âOh, just discussing period cramps and how none of you guys get it,â Jean replied sweetly, a glint of mischief in her eyes.
Scott scoffed, setting the bags on the counter. âCome on, it canât be that bad. Itâs just a little cramp, right?â he said, shooting a clueless grin at Logan, who smirked in agreement.
Jean and Ororo exchanged a glance, and before you knew it, Jean was subtly pressing her fingers to her temple, her eyes narrowing with a mischievous focus.
Suddenly, Logan and Scottâs faces twisted in unison. Logan's smirk vanished as his brows knitted together in confusion, then pain. Scott doubled over slightly, clutching his stomach as his face went pale.
âWhat the hellâ?â Logan growled, his voice strained. His hand went to his lower abdomen, his eyes widening in bewilderment. âWhat⌠what is this?â
Jean crossed her arms, looking entirely too pleased with herself. âThat, gentlemen, is what a âlittle crampâ feels like,â she said, barely holding back her laughter.
Scottâs eyes shot up to her, panicked. âAre⌠are you doing this?â
âOh, absolutely,â Jean replied, giving a little shrug. âThought you two could use a little empathy lesson.â
Just then, Xavier wheeled in, his eyebrow raised as he took in the scene. âWhatâs all this commotion?â he asked, though there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as he surveyed Logan and Scott, both clutching their stomachs and grimacing.
âOh, Professor,â Ororo said with a grin. âThe boys were just getting a taste of period cramps. Jean thought they needed some perspective.â
Xavierâs lips quirked up into a subtle smile. âWell, it does seem they could use a little⌠enlightenment,â he mused, pressing his fingers to his temple as well. You felt a slight ripple in the air, and then, judging by the way Logan practically doubled over, the cramps intensified.
âGodâ damn , Charles!â Logan barked out, his face twisted in agony as he shot Xavier a betrayed look. âAre you both in on this?â
Xavier raised an eyebrow, entirely unbothered. âPerhaps next time, youâll think twice before dismissing someone elseâs pain.â His tone was mild, but his amusement was unmistakable.
Scott looked like he was about to cry, clutching his side as he turned to Jean. âAlright, alrightâI get it! I get it! Just⌠please, make it stop.â
You couldnât help but laugh as Logan threw you an almost pleading look, his tough-guy façade thoroughly shattered. He was sweating, his hand clutching his abdomen like he was in a wrestling match with his own body.
âOh, it canât be that bad, right?â you teased, grinning up at him.
Loganâs glare softened just a bit, though he let out a strangled grunt. âIâm⌠Iâm sorry, okay?â he managed to grit out. âIâll never say another word about period cramps again. Justâtell them to stop.â
You exchanged a look with Jean, who finally lifted her finger from her temple releasing her telepathic grip. Logan and Scott straightened up slowly, breathing hard as the ghost of the cramps faded.
Logan glared at you, though there was a hint of reluctant admiration in his gaze. âYouâre ruthless, you know that?â he muttered, reaching out to steady himself against the couch.
You leaned up, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. âNow you understand. And next time, maybe youâll keep your commentary to yourself.â
Logan shook his head, rubbing his abdomen. âRemind me never to cross you and Jean,â he muttered, glancing over at Scott, who looked equally traumatized.
Ororo let out a laugh, clapping her hands. âLesson learned, then. Welcome to our world, boys.â
Logan shot you one last look, half-grumbling, half-amused. âI still think youâre all insane,â he mumbled, though there was a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
You leaned against his arm, smirking. âJust remember that next time you think about underestimating us.â
#logan howlett#x men logan#wolverine#logan x reader#logan howlett x you#james logan howlett#marvel#hugh jackman#logan howlett fic#days of future past#logan howlett fluff#james howlett#logan x fem!reader#logan x you#logan xmen#x men comics#x men movies#x men#professor logan#professor reader#professor howlett
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a lot of this was supposed to be posted for redacted kinktober but. college got in the way. iâm ovulating let me have this. itâs very long OOPS WHO LET ME OUT OF MY CAGE.
NSFW LMAO
lasko has a puppy kink. he likes being told heâs a good boy and craves to be of service to dear. would do anything to please them and do it well; itâs what turns him on the most. leash and collar. god, heâd lick the fucking dirt from their shoes if it made them smile down at him. yeah perhaps him and ash could bond over this. the difference between them though is that during those moments, lasko will never goof off or make jokes meanwhile ash is a bit of a brat. lasko would never disobey dear, but ash likes to push baabeâs buttons so that they âforceâ him into submission.
milo uses âgood girl/good boy/good petâ hnnnngghh. as well as âpretty girl/pretty boy/pretty thingâ oh my god. heâs so good at praise.
milo is usually pretty physically rough with it, going fast and deep, but you wouldnât know that if you were just listening to his voice. sometimes while heâs absolutely fucking sweetheartâs brains out, heâs right in their ear speaking so softly and encouragingly with soooo much praise. âthatâs right baby, âm i doinâ it right?â when he KNOWS heâs doing it right, he just wants to hear their confirmation. âyeah, lemme touch you, you like that? tell me you like that.â he looooves making sweetheart tell him how theyâre feeling, and when they inevitably confirm that it feels good, he nods and doubles down. he craves good feedback, itâs his praise kink. âawwww i know it feels good baby, âm gonna make it feel even better.â itâs not condescending, itâs confidence. he knows what heâs good at, and he wants to get better. heâs a huge pleaser.
this is self indulgent if you arenât into daddy kinks donât read this one lmao. but daddy milo is soooo real to me. âwas that too much? aw âm sorry baby, daddyâll make it feel better. shh shh itâs okay, daddyâs sorryâŚâ OUUUGGHHHH. âdaddy wants what you want baby, tellâim what you want. câmon, be good and use your words, daddy wants to hear you,â i canât do this anymore RELEASEEE MEEEEEEE. milo does it tastefully okay heâs not one of the weird ones TRUST ME.
milo who subs occasionally. to put a number on it, about 10% of the time. it may not be his natural default, but when the time is right, itâs so right. it happens one of two ways: either milo had a really rough, tiring day and needs to be coaxed into being cared for, or his sweetheart had been relentlessly teasing him. heâs such a brat at first, rejecting every dominant advance from sweetheart with a performative cocky demeanor, but it breaks down quickly enough when they touch him in the right places.
porter is such a masochist, but not in a traditionally submissive way. god, he loves when treasure slaps his face, yanks his hair, and scratches his back deeply on purpose. he likes being choked a little sometimes as well. but when all of these things are enacted on him, he smiles. heâs got a cocky grin and heâs nodding emphatically, his hips pistoning, almost twitching, even if heâs not inside of treasure. heâs groaning and his eyes are rolling back, but heâs not submitting. heâs daring them to do more, knowing that the only one whose limits being tested are theirs: how much are they able to take of porter when heâs losing himself to the pain? the more intense the pain, the harder he fucks treasure. basically porter is saying without saying, âthe more you hurt me, the more iâll pleasure you.â treasure essentially controls their own pleasure through him; if they want him to go faster, they dig their nails into his back or his scalp or his hips. and as soon as they let go, he lets out a breath he hadnât realized he was holding and eases back down to a slower pace. and porter knows what theyâre doing. he likes it. he likes that they have that level of control over him, but heâs absolutely not a whimpering mess like lasko.
david does not like using toys or bondage material. thatâs his job. heâs very animalistic in the sense that he does not want anything, even objects, interfering with his time with his mate. heâs the type to get jealous of a vibrator or any sex toy. not because heâs worried about it doing a better job than him, but because it was the thing pleasuring his mate and not him. if his angel is in the mood, he wants to know so he can take care of it. an unspoken rule in the shaw house is that neither of them are allowed to touch themselves. david sticks to this rule through and through, but if angel is caught in the action, the punishment is pretty intense, meaning overstimulation. david is usually quite rough and is already a lot to take even when heâs going slow, so him when heâs angry can be⌠a lot. heâs got angel on their tummy in the prone bone position and is absolutely laying into them, growling in their ear with genuine irritation. âyou shouldâve told me⌠why didnât you tell me? is this not cutting it for you? you had enough of this cock? i thought you liked it. thought you liked being full of me, not a piece of fucking plastic.â yeah heâs angy. and heâs not being mean to them, he just wants to prove to them and remind them how good he makes them feel. they shouldnât want anything else. and when angel does it because they think david is too busy for them? yeah he would stay up during all hours of the night to prove them wrong. âhow do you think like that, hm? you think iâd put work above this? god angel, i do everything to come home to you, give my time to you. you donât get that? let me keep showinâ youâŚ.â
azmidi who literally nuts on a lot of phone call role plays with sweetie (itâs canon yall hear the way his breath shakes all the time). just hearing their pretty voice, god he feels his pants getting tighter (if he wears those lol). he demands they tell him about their day even though they know he knows exactly how their day went. it feeds into that delicious fear of stalking, the idea that their every movement is being tracked and scrutinized and constantly mulled over. he wants to listen to them talk while he palms himself, nodding along with their version of events, happy that theyâre being obedient and not lying to him. he doesnât have to take himself out of his pants, though he likes to most times. he can come without that, just dry humping into his hand and pressing the phone to his ear, letting out the occasional moan. he knows sweetie can hear him, and if they show signs of getting flustered, it only makes him harder. âyou know what youâre doing to me, right? youâyou know⌠oh godâŚ. hey, donât stop. donât stop talking. youâve been doing such a good job, sweetie. let me hear you.â
william âeye contactâ solaire. hngggnhnnhg. letâs imagine heâs got a long term partner, right? he is suuuuuuch a gentle lover. heâs not about rough sex very much, heâs too sophisticated lol. no, the actual reason he isnât too keen on rough sex is because to him, his lover is a deity; an angel that walks the earth, the image of divine perfection. he isnât going to treat them like a ragdoll, he worships the air they breathe for gods sake. he doesnât see himself nearly worthy enough to be their companion, their equal. he gives them everything and then apologizes because it just isnât enough. when he gave them their crown? âi hope you like it. the jewels are the finest i could find of course, for you. iâi perhaps could have gotten larger ones⌠i apologize. oh, but the weight may be a bit much for your neck⌠oh dear.â yeah this man is rich but he fucking wonât be if his partner doesnât stop him from spoiling them. but iâm ranting, this is supposed to be about sex lmfao please ask me to make a post ab william i will do it so fast. this aspect of himself shows especially when he and his partner are intimate. heâs on his knees a lot of the time, staring up at his lover with worshipful reverence. he pleads in his soft spoken voice, his eyes fluttering shut as they put their hand on his cheek. âmy love, what would you have me do for you? ask me anything.â and he means anything.
#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted headcanons#redacted lasko#redacted asher#redacted milo#redacted porter#redacted david#redacted azmidi#redacted william
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request: jj x kook!girlfriend & they get caught fucking by the pogues so oops the secrets outđ¤
18+ mdni
warnings: smut, barely proof read, nothing else i donât think. it ended up being super soft. iâm in my feels i guess. hope u enjoy
gif not mine (obvs)
kooks vs. pogues.
that's how it was for as long as he could remember. he'd heard the way his dad talked about the upper class, how they were all crooks too. greedy, power hungry business men that prey on the working class for sport. 'you stay away from em', y'hear me?' he'd say.
and jj listened for the most part. the only time he'd interact with a kook was when it was time to take a couple swings â and get a few handed back. he'd never regretted a fight no matter how much trouble he'd get in for it, cause ultimately, it led him to where he was now. face between your legs, pulling moans from you as easily and flawlessly as a puppeteer pulling on strings.
"god, you're so good at this" you whined, gripping his hair.
it'd been three months to the day that he'd asked you to be his girl, and he was set on showing you how much you meant to him. making you feel it.
he licked a thick stripe all the way up to your clit, swirling and sucking before moving back down to thrust his tongue in and out of your hole, fingers massaging your thighs.
hooking one arm around your leg, he slowly inserted two fingers, not bothering to ease you into it before pumping them right into your sweet spot. your legs squeezed around his head as he continued to lick and suck your sensitive nub, making you swear like a sailor.
"tastes so good" he spoke lowly, barely pulling away to watch you squirm. "could do this all day."
you lifted your head to look at him, the way he was staring at you making you feel so.. seen. so vulnerable. he didn't say it, but you could see it in his eyes. feel it in how he touched you. he wished he said it.
grabbing his hair, you gently tugged him up to kiss him. his face was a mess, covered in a mixture of you and him. you gently wiped it away as he pushed his tongue past your lips, slowly pumping his fingers once again.
he kissed your jaw and down your neck, licking a thin stripe before tugging your earlobe between his teeth. âneed you, j" you whispered. as much as you loved the way his fingers moved inside you, you could feel him rutting into your side, and you couldn't wait to have him.
he pulled away just enough to look at you, rubbing the tip of his nose against yours. another moment of sweetness that had you gushing for him. "as you wish," he whispered.
the two of you made quick work at removing the rest of your clothing, wasting no time in closing the distance between you once again.
now, jj was never one for intimacy. he never really liked to look when he was fucking, but this wasn't fucking. this... this was love. he knew it long before he got you here, in his bed at his best friends house. he climbed on top of you, rubbing every bit of flesh that he could reach as you pulled him in for another kiss.
he wanted to see you.
he spit in his hand and pumped himself twice, dragging the tip of his cock up and down your slit, poking it in your entrance just a little bit further each time. he was about to do it again, but you weren't having it. any other time you would have enjoyed the tease, but you needed him now. wrapping your legs around him, you pushed him all the way in.
loud moans escaped both of you, jj letting out a breathless chuckle. "jesus, baby," he threw his head back, unmoving.
you knew he was big. it may have been your first time having sex with him, but it wasn't the first time you'd seen it. you'd given him head before, but still, you weren't expecting to feel so full. even with neither of you moving, it felt good.
you wiggled your hips a little to signal you wanted him to move, but he was fast to hold you still. "w-wait, wait," he groaned, "jus' â need a moment."
you gave him puppy eyes, begging him to move. he traced his thumb across your bottom lip, and when you wrapped your lips around it and gently sucked, he thought he'd bust right then and there.
he couldn't deny you what you wanted after that. how could he? he was just a boy, after all. he started slow, pulling almost all the way out before going back in, hitting all the right spots and making you squirm already.
"feels good, j" you mumbled, gasping when he managed to push even further, a smirk on his face.
it wasn't long before you wanted even more, not caring that jj might not last as long as he wanted. if anything, you took it as a compliment. you pushed him back so he was sitting up, still inside you. your intent was to be on top while he laid back and relaxed, but this felt too good to stop.
he was so deep inside that the slightest movement made you shake. his arms wrapped around your back, one sliding up to the back of your head, gripping your hair. you had your hands on the sides of his face, taking in how fucked out he looked already. slowly, you began to ride him, turning him into a moaning mess.
it was pure bliss.
the way the course hairs at his base provided the perfect amount of friction on your clit, the way he touched you all over, how he looked at you. god, if he didn't stop looking at you like that, you'd end up pregnant.
his hands moved to your hips, helping you slide up and down on his cock, pushing you down harder. neither of you could help the lewd noises or strings of praise and babble escaping you. the two of two of you weren't necessarily being loud, but you were definitely caught up in your own world â in one another. you definitely didn't hear the door to john b's twinkie slamming shut outside, or the footsteps coming down the hall.
you did hear the shriek when the bedroom door opened.
it slammed shut again, footsteps running away down the hall. you halted your movements, you and jj looking at each other with wide eyes. he'd wanted to keep things a secret for a while, not wanting his friends to be judgemental and make him get in his head about his relationship with you. he already had enough to worry about, he didnât need your feelings for him to be added onto that list.
"i didn't hear them come back" you said, looking from his bedroom door to the window.
you knew how he felt about the situation, he'd told you countless times that he wanted the whole world to know you were his girl, but he wanted to stay in the safe and secure bubble for a just little while.
he was still rock hard, a little twitch let you know he was unbothered. you looked at him with uncertainty, but he looked back at you with love. "i don't care" he shook his head before kissing you. he laid you back down on his bed before thrusting into you once more.
picking up the pace a little bit, jj rubbed firm, tight circles on your clit. "jay..." you moaned, a little too loud for comfort, his free hand moving to cover your mouth.
any other time, he'd love to be disgustingly loud just to fuck with his friends. heâd take pride in it â but this moment was just for the two of you.
"shh, baby, i know" he cooed, replacing his hand with his lips.
you could feel the tightness building in your abdomen, slowly at first, then all at once. you tried to hold it off, but he wouldn't let you.
"c'mon, pretty girl. come on my cock" his voice was so low and sultry, his thumb continuing its assault on your clit. that was all you needed to come undone.
you clenched around him, gummy walls pulsating and pulling his own orgasm from him unexpectedly. in the moment, neither of you cared he didnât pull out â it felt too good to worry about it.
he reached down to kiss you once more, pushing your hair away from your face as he pulled away. "so pretty" he whispered, a small smile on his face.
you felt silly for blushing at that, considering everything the two of you just did (including getting caught), but you couldn't help it. you were about to say something back, like a you're pretty, which would've been kind of lame, but he spoke before you, saving you the embarrassment.
"let's get you cleaned up" he sighed, grabbing a shirt and getting to work. he could see his cum slowly dripping out of you, and it made him groan in both arousal and regret.
"what?" you questioned, sitting up to look at him.
he so badly wanted to push it back in, a quick daydream of you carrying his baby flashing in his mind, making him yearn. he knew better than that, though.
"nothin', just... probably should have done that" he showed you the cum covered shirt.
"yolo, i guess" you replied with a shrug, making him laugh. you were perfect, he thought.
once he cleaned you up, he helped you get dressed. it wasn't something you thought could be so sweet and considerate until now. he even put your socks on for you, placing a kiss on each ankle as he did so.
"ready to face the heat?" he looked up at you, hands loosely holding onto your ankles. you nodded your head.
"okay," he tapped your legs as he stood up, holding his hand out for you. "i think they'll be nice, but i can't make any promises." he placed a kiss on your temple before slowly leading you out of his room.
"you sure?" he turned back, playful look in his eye.
"just go," you rolled your eyes as you nudged him forward.
you trailed behind jj, a little nervous to be meeting his friends for the first time this way. but as he led you out into the porch, you were greeted with hoots and hollers, full of excited cheers exclaiming how happy they were for their friend.
of course, they'd teased you both relentlessly for the rest of the evening, but neither of you could find it in you to care. your relationship was no longer a secret, and it felt good.
donât be shy, reblog!
#jj maybank#jj x reader#jj maybank imagine#obx#obx season 4#smut#jj maybank x you#jj maybank s4#jj maybank fluff
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okay, just thinking about some celebrity daring to hit on sirius and he's like "bitch??" and then immediately runs to tattoo reader's name (VERY BIG) on the left side of his chest, right over his heart! and since he takes off his shirt at every show, everyone can enjoy the view (reader is also taken by surprise, she gets very horny if you ask me
Sirius shows the world where his passion lies â rockstar!sirius x reader fluff
warnings: allusions to sex, very suggestive
words: 1k
a/n: I love this request so much omggg that is such a Sirius thing to do (I could see James doing it too actually) but it's just PERFECT. I did change it a bit by making reader know about it beforehand but I hope it's still good! Also horny part 2 maybe... idk yet
You came back to the hotel room with coffee in your hand, a bag of pastries in your purse, and a tabloid magazine under your arm.Â
With The Marauders on tour, youâve been living out of suitcases with your boyfriend and your friends for the last couple weeks. Youâve all been sharing sleep schedules with wolves, staying up until dawn and sleeping later than everyone else in whatever city you were staying in.Â
Thatâs precisely why you left to grab breakfast at eleven in the morning and Sirius was still fast asleep.Â
By the time you got back, you walked in to find Sirius wide awake, but still in bed, tangled in the bedsheets.Â
âGood morning, love.â Sirius said, shirtless with one hand behind his head.Â
âIt was a good morning.â You teased, tossing him the magazine. âThen I saw you in the news.â
âMe?â He feigned surprise. It wasnât at all uncommon for Sirius to be in the news or the tabloids, but it was usually for something he did, not some pop princess who writes songs you get tired of after two listens.Â
Sirius sat up and scanned the front page, curious as to what was going on.Â
Mary Macdonald makes her move on rock star Sirius Black; New musical romance in the works?
The caption was sitting atop a picture of the popstar in question onstage at a concert, her crop top showing off a fake tattoo on her abdomen with text reading Reserved 4 Sirius Black alongside an arrow pointed down.Â
âOh, come on.â Sirius laughed, throwing the paper to the end of the bed. âThis is what got you all bothered?â
You set your purse down and brought the coffee and pastries over to your boyfriend.Â
âYes, so bothered I almost didnât buy you a coffee. Be happy I did, though.âÂ
âOf course Iâm happy. I love you, doll.â
Sirius lifted the sheets and held out a hand to beckon you into the bed with him. You obey reluctantly, putting on a dramatic pout as you crawled in with your boyfriend and straddled his lap.Â
âYou know youâre the only one for me, right?â He whispered, hands tracing along your hips.Â
You combed your fingers through his perfect hair, a frown on your face.Â
âTell that to the singer-songwriter superstar announcing to the world that youâre the only person she wants between her legs.âÂ
Sirius smiled in a way that made it painfully obvious he had something stupid to say. âLove, there are millions of people who feel that exact way about me. Including you, I would hope.â
Damn, this man was exhausting. And of course you loved him for it.Â
You rolled your eyes and tried to get out of the hotel bed, though your attempt was foiled by Sirius holding you back.Â
You let him get his way, but gave him an unimpressed look that did not match his badly-stifled grin.Â
âIâll take care of it, alright?â He said, not elaborating at all.Â
You shook your head, hoping he would say more about whatever PR stunt he had in mind.Â
âSiri, what are you gonna do?â
âDonât you trust me?â Sirius said softly. He took your hand in his and slid your palm gently across his bare chest. âIâll take care of it, donât you worry.â
âŚâ§âŚâ§âŚ
The next concert the band had was a few days after you first saw that magazine. You stood in the wings of the concert stage, just before the show started.Â
All the other band members had gone onto the stage and started setting up their instruments and playing the long intro to the opening song; it was just Sirius left, saying goodbye to you before he started performing and you made your way to the VIP section.Â
âYouâre gonna do great, Siri.â You told him sincerely.Â
He winked at you, cocky as ever.Â
âI always do.âÂ
Sirius then softened and masked your tone. He held your upper arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead.Â
âIâll let them all know Iâm yours, and only yours.â
âTheyâre gonna go crazy.â You smiled.
âDamn right, they will. Iâll see you out there.â
Sirius gave your ass a playful smack before jogging out to the stage before he missed his cue, so you went down to your reserved space in the audience to see the band play from the best angle.Â
The audience lost their minds when Sirius ran onto the stage, per usual, screaming and shouting when all heâs done so far was enter.Â
But once Sirius started singing, the crowd noticed something off about the performanceâSirius was wearing a whole shirt for the first time throughout this tour. None of the band acknowledged it, of course; they were too busy playing music to be worried about what Sirius was wearing tonight.Â
Once the song finished, Sirius took a moment to say hello to the audience. After all the routine talking pointsâyou know, your âhowâs everybody doing?â and whatnotâSirius found it was the right time to say what he wanted to say.Â
âI saw a magazine cover the other day, with my name on it.â He started. âAnd not for the usual reasons. Mary Macdonald, I think it wasâŚâ
Many audience members went wild at the mention of her name, either because they were fans of her music, or they knew exactly what headlines Sirius was referring to.Â
âThat was definitely an odd thing to wake up and see. But Iâve thought about it because itâs been everywhere, and I just have one thing to say about that.â
Instead of responding verbally, Sirius pulled off his black tank top with a smooth, swift motion, revealing his newest tattoo.Â
Your name was printed loud and clear on his chest, right over his heart. He got it done the day the Mary Macdonald pictures came out, and he was ecstatic to show it off to the world.Â
It caused quite a reaction, but you werenât listening to the audience to know what they were even thinking. All you cared about was Sirius up on that stage, blowing you a kiss as The Marauders started to play the next song.
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black fluff#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#rockstar!sirius#rockstar!sirius black#rockstar!marauders#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#marauders fluff#xena's requests
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the grumpy cat's secret soft side - chwe hansol imagine
hiiii ~ tbh i liveeee for the black cat turn into golden retriever type of guyđĽşđđ
this one is soooo cute, i hope you like itđ¤ iâm trying to make up for being gone in the past weeks hence why the back to back posts.
for my other svt fics, check them here
if you want, u can buy me coffee(totally optional but any donation is very much appreciated!) thank youđĽşđ
All works are copyrighted Šscarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.
(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)
Youâre hanging out with your friends at a cafĂŠ, and, as usual, Vernon is sitting at a corner table, a frown fixed on his face. His arms are crossed, his eyes barely leaving the book he's reading, and his presence is just⌠intense. You know the drillâno one dares to approach him unless absolutely necessary.
Your friends chatter away, but their eyes keep flicking toward Vernon, trying to gauge the seriousness of his aura. You can practically hear them whispering:
"Does he even smile? He looks like he's plotting something dark."
"I bet he has some secret double life where he's a villain or something."
You roll your eyes, amused by the misconception. Sure, Vernon has this reputation of being the "grumpy cat". The guy who scowls at anyone who dares to speak to him but you know the real Vernon. The one whoâs soft, playful, and okay, maybe a little too clingy when you're alone.
You sip your coffee, trying not to laugh at the thought of what they would say if they knew. They think Vernon is all sharp edges and cool indifference, but when itâs just the two of you? Heâs a total golden retriever.
Later, the cafĂŠ empties out, and itâs just you and Vernon. You lean against the table, watching him flick through his book, clearly trying to seem like he's deep in thought.
"You know, you should really smile once in a while. People are starting to think you're some kind of cold-hearted villain."
He grunts in response, his eyes not leaving the pages "I donât need to impress anyone. Why pretend to be something Iâm not?"
You can feel the smile tugging at your lips. If only they knew how dramatically different he was when no one else was around. Just the other night, heâd insisted on cooking you dinner and then gotten mad at the TV when you laughed at a cooking show he didnât even like.Â
And the way his voice softens when he talks to you? Donât even get you started.
"Mhm, sure. Just make sure no one sees you with your 'scary' persona, or they'll think youâre a supervillain." you tease him, a playful smile on your face
Vernon finally looks up at you, raising an eyebrow.
"You do realize you're the only one who gets to see me not acting like a 'villain,' right?"
You grin, taking a casual sip from your drink.
"Yeah, lucky me."
Fast forward to a few days later. You're out with Vernon and a few friends, walking through the park when you trip over a crack in the pavement. It's not that big of a fall, but you scrape your knee, and it stings just a little.
No one notices at firstâexcept Vernon. His eyes snap to you, and you can see the panic flicker across his face.Â
Before you can even fully recover from the stumble, heâs already by your side, crouching down with an expression that can only be described as dramatic concern.
"Oh my god, are you okay?! Did you hurt yourself?"
You blink, slightly surprised at how intense heâs reacting. Heâs usually so calm in public, but now his eyes are wide, his hand hovering near your knee like heâs afraid even the slightest touch might cause more harm.
"Itâs just a scrape, Vernon. Iâm fine." you stutter, still surprised by his actions
He shakes his head vigorously, ignoring your reassurances, his face completely serious.
"No. Youâre not. You're bleeding, and... youâre my responsibility!"
You blink at him wide eyed, "Itâs really just a small scratch. It's not likeâ"
"Small?!" He looks at the tiniest red mark like itâs an open wound that could be fatal. His voice grows louder. "Youâre going to need a bandage! IâllâI'll carry you home!"
You canât help but laugh at how over the top heâs being. The guy who looks like heâs plotting world domination in front of others is now losing it over a scraped knee. But he doesnât seem to find it funny at all.
"Do not laugh! Youâre injured, and this is serious business." he scolds you, already helping you up still chuckling, as he holds out his arms like heâs ready to scoop you up at any moment.
"I donât need you to carry me, Vernon. I can walk." you assure him
"I insist."Â
Heâs so dramatic about it that it almost seems like heâs going to faint from the sheer concern heâs radiating.
"Is he seriously offering to carry you?" Dino asks, watching the whole scene
âWhat the hell is happening?" Seungkwan mumbles
You hear your friends muttering from the sidelines, their voices full of surprise, and you canât help but smirk. This is the first time theyâve seen Vernon act this way, and theyâre all shook by it.
"Vernon, seriously. Iâm fine!"
But heâs already kneeling in front of you, looking up at you with wide, concerned eyes, ready to scoop you up into his arms like you're the most fragile thing in the world.
"Nope. Iâm not risking it. Letâs go home. You need rest, and I need to make sure youâre not going to pass out or something."
You canât hold back your laughter anymore."You're impossible."
"Iâm just trying to keep you safe."
You finally let him win, letting him gently lift you as if youâre the most precious thing in the world, completely ignoring the curious stares from everyone else around. And despite how embarrassing this all is, you canât deny it. You love how much Vernon cares about you. The "grumpy cat" persona is a total act.
You lean your head on his chest, feeling the warmth of his embrace.
"You know, Iâve never seen this side of you before."
"Good. Keep it that way. Iâm only like this for you, got it?" voice full of seriousness
"Got it."
And in that moment, you realize, as much as Vernon tries to hide it from the world, heâs completely smitten with youâand you wouldn't have it any other way.
#fic#story#fanfic#svt#seventeen#seventeen imagine#seventeen scenario#seventeen vernon#hansol chwe#vernon#chwe vernon#seventeen fluff#svt au#seventeen au#svt x readers#svt x reader#vernon imagine#vernon fluff
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(SHEâS) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER NINETEEN: toothpaste
masterlist
*if you want the full sjap chososcamgirl experience click here!
Toothpaste.
That was all she needed.
The familiar jingle of the doorbell sounded as she stepped into the pharmacy, its ring echoing briefly before being swallowed by the soft hum of fluorescent lights above. She moved past the aisles with purpose, the faint scent of antiseptic and the bittersweet smell of charcoal lingering in the air.
At the counter, a brown-haired girl in her late twenties leaned against the register, lazily blowing out smoke from a cigarette.
"Shoko," her name tag read in bright red letters.
Pretty name.
"Hey," she muttered, a casual greeting as she passed. The girl didn't look up, but offered a half-hearted smile, her eyes unfocused as she exhaled smoke, lost in whatever thoughts dulled her day.
Toothpaste.
The word repeated in her head like a quiet mantra, the task simple, mundane. She wandered down the aisles with mechanical precision, her gaze flicking over shelves of medicines and other pharmacy essentials.
Her fingers brushed against boxes, but she didn't really look at them. She wasn't here to linger.
And then she stopped.
A stillness took hold of her. Her body froze mid-step, her pulse quickening in a way that had nothing to do with the cold air of the aisle.
In the distance, there was a figure. His back was to her, his face buried in his hands, almost in a gesture of resignation or frustration. His stance was familiar in an unsettling way, as if he was trying to disappear into the shelves, as if he were searching for something he didn't know how to find.
She stood there for what felt like an eternity, the hum of the lights suddenly deafening in her ears. The shape, the posture, the way his shoulders slumped-it was him.
For a moment, she debated standing there. Still, until he noticed her.Â
Then, just as her mind screamed at her to stay, she saw him start to turnâhis head shifting, eyes beginning to look her way.
Her heart slammed against her ribcage, and without thinking, she bolted. She pivoted on her heel, her breath quick and shallow as she darted toward the next aisle, her legs carrying her as fast as they could.
She whips out her phone in frustration and starts furiously typing.
âHey.â Â
She freezes, fingers hovering over the screen of her phone, her mind torn between the message she was about to send and the voice she recognizes. Slowly, she looks up. Â
His gaze locks with hers. Â
Megumi Fushiguro. Â
Her eyes narrow, irritation flaring as she exhales sharply. Without a word, she pushes past him, intent on finding what she came for.Â
Toothpaste. Â
The aisle ahead is a chaotic jumble of brightly coloured shampoo and conditioner bottlesâtoo many choices, too many distractions. She weaves through the sea of products, her focus narrowing to the search for the one thing she came here for. Â
âYn, please, Iâm sorry.â Â
The words make her blood boil. God, she hates the tone heâs using. Itâs almost like he doesnât get it. Â
She bites her lip, trying to ignore the sting of his voice, but before she can refocus, she feels his hands settle gently on her shoulders. It takes all her willpower not to jerk away. Â
Not now, Megumi.Â
Finally, she spins around, giving him the sharpest glare she can muster. Â
âWhat do you want, Megumi?â she spits, every syllable laced with frustration. Â
His frown deepens, his eyes flicking to her lips, a hesitant tension hanging between them. He bites his lip, visibly unsure of how to proceed. Â
âI just... I wanted to tell you Iâm sorry.â Â
Her jaw tightens, and she shoots a pointed glance back at the shelves, pretending to be absorbed in the endless row of oral care products. She couldnât care less about his apology. Â
âI heard you the first time,â she mutters, grabbing the toothpaste off the shelf with one hand, her grip tight and fingers stiff.Â
A beat of silence stretches between them. Megumiâs voice cuts through again, softer, but with the same persistent edge. Â
âSo... youâll forgive me?â Â
She scoffs, shaking her head with a bitter laugh, her patience wearing thin. Of course, he would ask something so dumb. Â
Finally, her eyes land on the familiar packaging.
Toothpaste.
She picks it up, turning to face him with a glare that could melt stone. Â
âNo. And if thatâs all you have to say, then Iâm leaving.âÂ
With that, she brushes past him once again, this time with more force, walking swiftly toward the checkout counter. She can still smell the lingering scent of cigarettes, the same stale air sheâd walked into when she first arrived. Â
The conveyor belt moves slowly beneath her, and she places the toothpaste down with a faint clink. Her fingers automatically slip into her pocket, searching for her wallet. Â
And then, she hears itâthe unmistakable sound of footsteps behind her. Â
She doesnât have to turn around to know who it is. Her shoulders sag, frustration mounting in her chest. Of course heâd follow me.
She groans internally, preparing herself for whatever nonsense heâll say next.
"Will this guy ever get a fucking life?" she mutters under her breath, barely holding back an eye roll.
âI got it,â a voice called from behind her.
The cashier, unfazed by the tension hanging in the air, set her pornographic magazine aside and casually picked up the toothpaste. Her cigarette, still smouldering in her mouth, bobbed up and down as she scanned the item, her expression completely indifferent to the moment's awkwardness.
She paused, her eyes narrowing as she studied Megumi from head to toe, as if waiting for him to do something else.
"Oh shit, uh, and these too," he stammered, placing the box of Magnum condoms on the conveyor belt, nervously scratching his neck.
Yn's eyes flickered to the box and then back to him. "Big night planned, huh?" she said, her voice dripping with mock amusement as she glared at the condoms.
Megumiâs face reddened. "Oh, uh, those arenât for me," he mumbled, his discomfort palpable.
She merely gave a disinterested "Mhm," chewing the inside of her gum as the cashier processed the transaction.
Megumi opened his mouth, ready to defend himself, but was cut off by her.
"Did you guys want a bag?" she asked flatly.
"Yeah, please," Yn answered quickly, eager to leave the awkwardness behind.
The sound of plastic rustling filled the silence, only intensifying the tension. The cashier bagged their items with a practised, almost bored efficiencyâas if this kind of transaction was the least exciting thing to happen all day.
Before Megumi could protest any further, a cloud of smoke from the cashierâs cigarette drifted in their direction. She didnât even flinch.
âThatâll be 4250 yen, please,â she said lazily, still grinning, unfazed by the duo hacking their lungs out from the smoke.
Megumi quickly covered his mouth with his arm, pulling out his wallet with the sort of frantic haste only a person desperate to escape awkwardness can manage. He fumbled with his card, sliding it into the reader. The machine beeped.
Yn grabbed the bag in one swift motion, already on her way out of the store.
Megumi, looking flustered but relieved, gave a curt nod to the cashier before jogging after her, eager to leave the bizarre scene behind.
The cashier took another slow drag from her cigarette, her eyes following the two figures darting across the parking lot. She exhaled a thick plume of smoke, watching them with a detached amusement, tinged with something darkerâsomething she didnât care to name.
"Kids," she muttered to herself, shaking her head with a soft, resigned chuckle before turning her attention back to the magazine before her, as if it might shield her from whatever she couldnât bear to witness.
â
The sharp click of shoes on wet concrete echoed in the cold night, piercing the stillness like a warning.Â
"Yn, please!" Megumiâs voice cracked, strained with exhaustion and desperation as he closed the gap between them.
Yn kept her head down, hands shoved deep into her pockets, the cold metal of the keys biting into her skin. Her pace quickened, heart racing as though the faster she moved, the less likely he would be able to reach her, to make her turn around. She couldnât hear him. Not now. Not when everything sheâd been holding back was on the edge of spilling over.
"Megumi, stop," she whispered, voice tight, trembling at the edges. "I already told you, Iâ"
Before she could finish, she felt his hand grip her wrist, pulling her to a halt. The sudden force of it made her breath catch, and for a moment, she was still trapped between the pull of his touch and the weight of her own resolve.
She looked at him, and everything inside her stilled.
His eyes werenât the same. They were darker now, heavy with something deeper than she had ever seen in them before. No arrogance. No defiance. Only raw, unfiltered regret. Sadness. The kind that seemed to press in on his chest, making it hard to breathe, to think. He couldnât meet her gaze for long; his eyes flickered to the ground, and for a moment, he looked like he might break. Like his whole world was about to shatter into a thousand pieces, right there on the wet pavement.
"Yn, please," he whispered, voice breaking, so full of pain it made her chest tighten. "I never meant any of it. What I said... it was so fucking stupid. Iâm so sorry. I donât want to lose you. I know... I know itâs selfish, asking you to stay, but I canât... I canât lose you. Please."Â
"Megumi, Iâ"
He cut her off, his voice hoarse, trembling with the weight of everything he hadnât said before. "And I know you told me you werenât ready for a relationship, and Iâve tried to understand that, to give you space. Iâve accepted it, even if it wasnât easy. But..." His words faltered, and for a moment, he looked like he might swallow them back down, like they were too heavy for him to carry. But then he breathed in, steadying himself.Â
"But Yn... I would wait a thousand lifetimes for you. I would wait forever, if thatâs what it took, because I want to be with you. I need to be with you. And not just because I miss you, or because I feel lost without you, but because... because, Yn, I want you. In a way I never thought I could want anyone."Â
He paused, the weight of his own confession sinking in, and when he spoke again, it was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the space between them with the quiet intensity of a truth he could no longer keep buried.Â
âSo hate me all you want Yn, just please donât shut me out. Iâve spent so much time thinking I could walk away, that I could let you go, but I canât. I donât want to. Not anymore."Â
His chest rose and fell with the effort of his words, like he was trying to catch his breath after running a race he didnât even know he was in. His body trembled, not from fear, but from the sheer force of his emotions breaking through. His hand clenched at his side, his knuckles white, as if holding on to something he might lose if he let go. His eyes were fixed on hers, pleading without words, desperate without asking.Â
For the first time in a long time, there was no bravado, no walls between them. Only the quiet truth of a man who had finally realised that what he felt for her wasnât something he could walk away from. And he was askingâno, beggingâfor her to see it, to feel it, too.
His grip on her wrist tightened, his fingers trembling. He looked away, unable to meet her eyes, as though the weight of his own guilt might crush him if he held her gaze for too long. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold back the torrent of emotion that was threatening to spill over, but it was thereâraw, uncontained.
Yn exhaled, the weight of his words settling over her like a fog. She wanted to pull away, to shut herself off from himâeverything inside her screaming for distanceâbut she couldnât. Not with him standing there, broken, stripped bare in front of her.Â
She shook her head slowly, the words thick in her throat. "Megumi... I could never hate you." The confession hung in the air between them, fragile and heavy with everything they had left unsaid.Â
His eyes snapped back to hers, searching for somethingâanythingâthat would give him hope. And in that moment, when the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of them, a single streetlight flickered above them, casting his face in a pale, golden halo. She froze. In that soft glow, she remembered. She remembered how he had always been beautifulâhow she saw him for the first time underneath the lucent lights with his guitar, to the man standing in front of her carrying nothing but a bag of toothpaste and condoms. For a fleeting second, it felt like time had both stopped and rewound, all at once.
A fragile shift passed between them, unspoken but undeniable. His hand slipped from her wrist, fingers brushing lightly against her skin as if afraid to touch her too firmly, as if the very act of reaching for her might undo them both. But then, with no more hesitation, no more words to hold them back, he kissed her.
It wasnât a kiss of anger, of apology, or even of reconciliation. It was everythingâeverything theyâd held back, buried too deep for too long. The crash of everything unspoken, everything broken, everything still raw between them. It was the kiss they should have shared ages ago, but neither of them had been ready for. It was the space between their wordsâthe silence that had stretched so long, finally, finally given form.Â
And in that kiss, there was no more distance. No more fear. No more hesitation. Just the weight of everything they hadnât let go of, suddenly, impossibly, all at once.
extras!
⢠panda sent the ynmegumi gc a text like âplan in motionâ so they all celebrated with a movie night (??)
⢠dunno know WHY they thought it would work
⢠it did so ig itâs okayâŚ
⢠they knew their plan worked after ynmegumi turned their location sharing off LMFAOOOO
⢠shoko was definitely fan service for ree (are you reading this ree? are you?? are you?? did you like it??? do i get a kiss on the cheek?? do i??)
⢠but her working in the pharmacy isnât THAT ooc so #cry
⢠she did not gaf about ynmegumiđ she just let them have their moment
⢠brought her flashbacks to stsg gay asses #LetGodBeTrueQuicklyđđ
⢠yn wants to be main character soooo bad omfg girl give it up
⢠complete parking lot fight slash makeup scene clichÊ SUE ME
⢠btw they left the toothpaste out on the gravel for some reason so yn did in fact not get the stupid ass toothpaste
⢠got the condoms thoughđđđ
⢠yuta will definitely be questioning as to why they were open
⢠may or may not have done something not very sft in the car but hey!! you didnât hear it from meâŚ
a/n: aaaand weâre back!!! howâs everyone doing? good? okay? horrible? all three? sameâ¤ď¸ i hope this sufficed for taking a week off (iâm still in my shackles) this was probably my favourite chapter to write. gonna lie and say it didnât make me teary eyed towards the end⌠champagne coast being the recommended song of the week even though it was a gag for the first chapter is a full circle moment. a bit of tzc reeferences sprinkled in the chapter bc i love those girls to death (even though mitch gave up on chapter 2⌠she didnât even make it to lesbian digresser⌠#shitfriendmomentđ) ANYWAYS enjoy and see you guys tmr!! <3
taglist: @shokosbunny @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @sluttkuna @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm @syxoki
*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jjk crack#jjk x reader#jjk smau#jjk x you#jjk fluff#jjk!smau#jjk fanfic#jjk texts#jjk twitter#jjk tweets#jujutsu kaisen texts#megumi smau#megumi x y/n#megumi fluff#megumi x you#jjk megumi#jujutsu megumi#megumi x reader#jujutsu kaisen megumi#megumi fushiguro#jjk fushiguro#fushiguro x reader#jujutsu kaisen fushiguro#fushiguro x you
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a binary boyfriends au where the house fight on December 19th never happened, demetri and eli never make up in high school, and the universe keeps pushing them back together (Boston college au)
aka I wanna gage if anyone would read this fic..... (it's already almost entirely written)
Demetri is having a shitty morning, so he canât catch a break.Â
Maybe he was moving too fast. Maybe he was in a rush to get back to his apartment and finally attempt the other nine pages of the ten-page essay he shouldâve already finished. Maybe the whole thing could be blamed on his long limbs or his natural clumsiness, but Demetri is fully convinced that this guy ran into him. Not the other way around.Â
And there goes his second coffee of the dayâall over his sneakers, the cafe floor, and the guy who shoulder-checked him at full force.Â
âShit!â
âCâmon, man!â the guy barks at the same time.Â
The guy has the hood of his green sweatshirt pulled up over his head, likely doing very little against the weather outside. Heâs got wired earbuds inâlike all pretentious douchebags doâand Demetri bitterly thinks he must have his music too loud to be aware of his surroundings, hence the collision. His worn utility jacket may have saved the hoodie from the spill but it looks completely ruined now.
Arguably, Demetri is much better off, notably not covered in hot coffee. But, this is his second spilled coffee in a single morning, and the universe is out to get him, so this guy isn't going to hear the end of it.
âYou ran into me!â Demetri protests, fuming.Â
The guy flicks both his arms a few times, trying to wring out any dripping coffee from his coat sleeves.
Demetriâs never been good at biting his tongue and right now heâs too pissed to hold back. âMaybe if you were actually paying attention to the world around you, and not just plowing in here without a care for other customers or your surroundings, you wouldnât have ran me over! You know, thatâs my second spilled coffee today. I have half a mind to demand you get me a new one-â
The guy finally looks up seemingly to find who is responsible for dumping a medium-sized hot latte all over him. His face is half covered by his hoodie and Demetri can only see an intense side-eye of annoyance as a response to his lecture on the important or personal space. Then, he straightens quickly and narrows his eyes, leaning slightly in to the limited space occupied by a puddle of cooling steamed milk and espresso between them.
âAnd truly itâs blatantly a matter of safetyââ
They lock eye contact and the guyâs eyes widen comically and his eyebrows shoot up so high they disappear above the overhang of his hood.
His voice cracks a little as he interrupts Demetriâs rambling.
âDem?â
Demetriâs words die halfway through his sentence. Does he know this guy?
The stranger shakes his head roughly and clears his throat. âSorry, it's just- IâŚâ He looks Demetri up and down and narrows his eyes again. âIs your name Demetri?â
And that's⌠odd. Demetri inspects the guyâs face as best he can under the sweatshirt hood. He seems sort of familiar, but Demetri can't place it.Â
Demetri shifts from one foot to the other, suddenly unsure of how to hold his weight under this guyâs intense gaze. âUm. Yes?â
âOh my- holy shit!â The guy lets out a laugh of disbelief and pulls out his earbuds, letting them hang out of the top of his hoodie. âThis is crazy.âÂ
He roughly shoves his hood off of his head, and Demetriâs heart drops into the bottom of his stomach.Â
He rakes his hand through a thick mop of shaggy light brown hair. Hiding under the hood was a pair of startling blue eyes that Demetri really shouldâve recognized. As the not-so-stranger pats the hoodie down behind his neck, Demetri has a clear picture of his entire face. And just before Demetri can come up with a plausible theory on doplegängers, his eyes land on the faint scar rippling from the guyâs upper lip to his nose.
There's just no goddamn way.
So, since Demetri really canât catch a break this morning, his childhood best friend, Eli Moskowitz, is standing in front of him, covered in his second latte of the morning.Â
And Demetri wants to say fuck off or what are you doing here or get out of my city or honestly just walk away, but heâs rendered completely frozen. Demetri feels a little like a cartoon character when their jaw completely unhinges and hits the floor with a comical clang. Heâs left buffering like a YouTube video being played with a shitty wifi connection.
He hasnât seen Eli since high school. Hasnât talked to him in even longer. Itâs probably been four years since they last spoke. Not that Demetri is counting. What the hell is he doing in Boston? What the hell is he doing this close to MIT? Just⌠what the hell?
Eliâs excited expression falters when Demetri doesnât respond. He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly.Â
âItâs uh- Itâs Eli. Moskowitz?â
Demetri notes first that he introduces himself as Eli, not that ridiculous nickname he coined in school.
He says it as if Demetri doesnât know. He says it as if Demetri wouldnât recognize him faster than the back of his own hand even all these years later. His hair is long, too long. Itâs curling over his ears and nearly touching his shoulders, and Demetri is pissed because it still looks good. He looks older, he looks better, and all Demetri can see is the tiny Eli he met in first grade who was missing both his front teeth.Â
Demetri doesnât know what to make of any of it. This feels like some cosmic joke.Â
âUh, no, yeah. Yeah. What- What are you doing here?â Demetri finally manages. His voice sounds a little strangled, but the question comes out bluntly and a bit harsh.Â
âUh,â Eli starts, glancing around, and letting out a confused laugh. He raises an eyebrow and shoves his hands in his pockets, gesturing with his coat around the cafe. âGetting coffee? What are you doing here?â he teases.
Demetri really doesnât have time for this. He rolls his eyes. âNot here. What are you doing in Boston?â he demands.Â
Eliâs playful expression falls. He furrows his eyebrows. âI live here.â
And thatâs- that canât be right. Demetri lives here. Demetri just started his second semester of his junior year at MIT a month ago. He certainly wouldâve noticed if Eli Moskowitz lived in Boston. Right?
âYou live⌠in Boston?â
âYeah,â Eli shrugs, looking much too nonchalant for Demetriâs liking. âI go to BU.â He cocks his head slightly to the side and earnestly says, âI thought you knew that.âÂ
Demetri did not know that. Thatâs the thing about no contact. Demetriâs had Eli blocked in all forms of communication since their junior of high school. Itâs sort of hard to keep tabs on someone when theyâre pretty strictly out-of-sight, out-of-mind.Â
#guys honest feedback pls!!!#this is a longer fic it'll be like over 10k words but less than 20k if i can help it#anywho i had this idea over the summer and am finally hopefully finishing it#it's completely self indulgent#but oh well#back on my writing bullshit everyone#finally writing in demetri's pov and boy is it a switch up#loosely based on the song i knew it i know you by gracie abrams#also i know MIT is in cambridge not boston no one come for me i specify in the fic#hawkmetri#binary boyfriends#elimetri#eli x demetri#demetri x eli#hawk x demetri#demetri alexopoulos#eli moskowitz#cobra kai#ck#cobra kai fanfiction#cobra kai fanfic#cobra kai fic#hawkmetri fanfic#binary boyfriends fanfic#my writing
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Def Leppard members as your boyfriend
Joe:
There's so much yet so little I know about him as a boyfriend / partner
But I know he'd be very doting
Like, as soon as you tell about anything that you're hyperfixating on, he will learn everything about it
Loves fangirl Fridays, where the both of you watch a bunch of interviews (old & new) on YouTube, or back then, on VHS, 'cause you always recorded at least one or two
He's fangirling about Ian Hunter obviously (it's so funny to me, but all hail the fangirls and fanboysâĄ)
One time you were hyperfixating on Sav, and therefor your attention was put a little bit more towards him
Poor Joe got a bit jealous, 'cause it was his best friend, but eh, he wasn't better, and it was harmless, so it's good, right?;3
Listens to you like there was nothing else going on
HUGS, HUGS, HUGS
Hugs from behind, quick side hug, hugs during cuddling...All the hugs!!đđŤ
Kisses range from every possible kind there is
Loves deep and long kisses, the ones where you basically lose your breath
You're kind of his personal heater / cooler when you're cuddling
Clings like a koala to you
Furthermore, very loyal and loves to have you on tour, but not too long, so that you won't get sick of it:)
Loves to call you ,,love" or ,,babe", or any other nickname you like, like childhood nicknames:)
Sav:
He always looks so slightly confused to me, omg-
Like, it took him so long to realize, that you two were a couple
It were two weeks, but it still felt like an eternity, like forever
Definitely teaches you bass (you gotta know where the rhythm comes from;3)
Will introduce you to the big and wide world of fashion
Will get you a custom suit (or dress...Or both):>
Breakfast in bed whenever he can:3
Cuddles EVERY night, even on call (no matter analog or digital)
Loves deep conversations about anything
Rick:
He is such a sweetheart
Won't stop looking at you when you two hang out
Like...He's so enamored, his eyes literally formed to heartsâĄ
ATTENTIVE!!!
Loves driving out somewhere:]
Asks everybody what he should get you for special occasions, despite knowing you in and outđ¤
Loves telling you about the random stuff he saw on walks
I wanna squish his cheeks:3
Phil:
Active boy
Be prepared to always go anywhere with a bike if possible
He probably tries to swim so so far
But! If you wanna have a lazy day a few days in a row, he's not opposed to that
From reading his book, Phil is a deeper thinker than you might imagine, so lots of talking about his philosophy of life and how the world works. He genuinely believes you are soulmates. He cooks you vegan food, and takes you to the gym, whether you want to or not! Very keen on, ahem, bedroom activities, and probably pretty good at it after all that practice lol <- @steveinscarlet
(Somebody help me, I don't know what to add-)
Steve:
Do I have to say it?
I'll just say it again
BIGGESTđSWEETHEARTđEVERâ¤ď¸
Like, he's so fun to be around, talk to etc. etc...
Kisses all the time
Late night talks until dawn
Love making? Yes sir:)
The softest hugs known to mankind
Steve is super-shy, so you probably had to make the first move, or be so painfully obvious that even he couldn't fail to notice that you like him. Talks to you in funny voices and probably has a silly pet name for you which makes the other guys make vomiting noises when they hear him use it. He alternates between being really loved up and soppy, and needing reassurance that you really do love him. Buys you classy presents like jewellery and fancy perfume. You steal each other's clothes and eat from each other's plates. He tells you you're beautiful even when you have a spot the size of mount Vesuvius on your chin! <- @steveinscarlet
(Feel free to add, I'll add them:))
Vivian:
The first thing I thought about was Stu
He always had a little companion with him, wherever he would go (if he could take it with him, that is)
Absolutely loves playing your favourite songs on an acoustic, especially fast ones, 'cause they sometimes sound weird (he does it on purpose, 'cause it makes you laugh)
Lets you do his hair:)
Shy boy:>
Loves cuddling up in the middle of whatever you or he were doing
Forehead kisses
(Feel free to add!)
#nenynra's stuff#nenynra's thoughts#one a day series#def leppard#joe elliott#rick savage#rick allen#phil collen#steve clark#vivian campbell
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Lottie: I feel you. I stood up too fast the other day and both my fucking knees cracked. It was like a Rice Krispies commercial man. It's not fair. My body is betraying me, Matthew!!! Lottie: Those Leo-pointing moments are some of the best moments, so I can't blame you lol. I fell asleep watching old I Love Lucy reruns the other night (don't you dare judge me), and I woke up to "fresh goes better" and instantly just started sleepily going "with mentos fresh and full of life" before I realized what I was doing. Those commercials we couldn't fast forward through or avoid are just engrained in my brain now lol. Lottie: Tbh, I'm glad he's gone. Sorta. Not really. We were fighting a *lot* before he left anyway, and it wasn't helping anything. I was probably 12-13 when I first started working, but it was primarily usual kid stuff. Babysitting, lawn mowing, collecting plastics and stuff. I was 15 I think when I got my first genuine job; they paid me under the table, and I was working a few shifts a week as a waitress. Then he left, and I sort of threw myself into doing whatever I had to in order to put food on the table. I still graduated with top grades, but there were definitely more than a few classes skipped to take extra shifts or extra jobs wherever I could. Lottie: But yes, I feel like his leaving robbed me of a semi-normal childhood. I can't blame him for the accident, but I can sure as hell blame him for abandoning us. We all had to grow up a lot faster because of that. Lottie: Ooh, yes. I will 100% take that. Give me the ability age 1 second in a year; slow aging down that much, and I'll live forever. Ish. Lottie: NGL, I read that as "I watched Only Marauders in the Building" initially, and now I need that sitcom... Lottie: But no, I haven't seen it yet. I've been putting it off a bit, but I've heard good things about it. I didn't know Paul was in it, so now I *have* to check it out. Obviously.
Matt: Don't even get me started with the feeling old shit! I woke up yesterday morning with my neck all fucked up. I didn't even do anything other than sleep in a position different from the one I'm used to. I remember way more of the 90s than the 80s, but every once in a while, one of those old commercials will air, like the Clapper, and I'll Leo point at my screen ahahhaah Matt: That sucks about your stepdad leaving. How old were you when you started working? What was your first job? I got my first at 16, but only because I wanted extra $$$, not to help make ends meet. Do you feel part of your teen years was robbed by that change? Matt: Okay! So I spent some time thinking about the potential alien Rudd sitch. What IFFFFFFF? They haven't unlocked eternal life but have found a way to slow things the fuck down. So it takes a millennia to age a year or two? That's something I can live with. Matt: I watched Only Murders in the Building (binged 3 seasons is more like it, but shhhhhhh), and Paul was in it. He was glorious! Have you watched that show?
#{ ooc | striked text is something she typed out then deleted }#{ ooc | and these just keep getting longer lmao }#{ text messages }#{ texts | matt }#{ matthew schuester }
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My story:
Hi, this is the story of my eddie Sheeran (đ) and how I got here right now.
I had a lot of trauma when I was a child, which I wonât get into right now, but the thoughts started when I was about 11. It was never serious, Iâd exercise for like 2 days and then be like nah fuck this I want a burger 𤪠lmao.
I started engaging in the behaviours of it when I was 14, in 2019. Again, it was never something I was able to stick with, and Iâd be over it within a few days. 2020 was a weird year for me, with the lockdown, I was determined to finally do it, that was also the year I did my longest fast of 6 days (never againđŽâđ¨). But it was a year of constant binging and starving, I saw zero progress. I didnât know myself, what I could or couldnât handle. I thought I could just eat max 500 cals every day and it would be sustainable (it wasnât lmao), it always ended in a binge.
Then began 2021, the worst year of my life for all my mental illnesses. I was in an abusive relationship at this point, bullied by people, and I felt completely alone. And this was when my personal worst relapse began. I was at my HW of 58-60kgs, and at first, it began as a regular diet (August 2021), and then towards late September that year, I knew it wasnât just a regular diet when I began restricting heavily again, and exercising daily. I lost 10-12kgs, and was 48kgs by the end of October 2021. I felt amazing, I felt so powerful and happy that I was finally, after all these years, I was getting somewhere. Yep well those feelings were wiped away real quick the following November, which was again, a month of constant binging and starving. It was awful, I felt like I had lost complete control, like it was someone possessing my body and making me eat all those pizzaâs, when it wasnât, it was all me, and only me. December that month was good again, I got back to 48kgs, and then went on a 3 day fast the days before Christmas, when I knew I was going to have to eat food.
Christmas fucked it up for me, and I tried to get back to it for 3 weeks, but in January 2022, I decided I was sick of this disorder, and tried to recover for good.
And I did, 3 years of no restricting, no thoughts, nothing, it was nice.
I got diagnosed with ADHD later that year in December 2022, and was put on elvanse (relevant later on).
Fast forward to jan 2024, and I got my first job at a fast food place (ironic much?), and I hated it, I was treated awfully by managers and co-workers. For context, there was an ADHD med shortage in the UK from August 2023, till march 2024, in this time period I had gained a lot of weight and was back to my SW of 58kgs, I then lost a bit of it again once I got my meds back, and this one girl noticed, and she would non stop brag and brag and brag about how she had lost 3 stone, her pants didnât fit her anymore, and she was losing lots of weight. This triggered me, but I was recovered at this point, so I just left the job and went to find a new one.
And here we are now. So what triggered me so badly for me to turn back to it after 3 whole years? One of my managers in my new workplace. My new workplace is so so much better, the co workers are wonderful, friendly people. But Iâm getting micromanaged by one of my managers, I wonât go into the details, but itâs really fucking infuriating. And because I have severe social anxiety irl, I didnât want to mention it to him, so I turned back to Ana as a way of regaining my lost control in that workplace. Iâm over the situation now, but I canât stop, I donât want to stop, I love feeling like this, and I think Iâll be like this for the rest of my life.
Thatâs my story, Iâm sorry for how long this, I tried to shorten it as much as I could, thank you for reading lovelies!! <3
#@na rules#4norexla#4nerex1a#ed but not ed sheeran#thinsperation#tw ed ana#anadiet#thinspp#i just want to be thin#light as a feather#4n4t1ps#4narex1a#4n@diary#4n4blr#4nor3xia#4n4rexia#an4r3xia#ana y mia#ana angelsđŞ˝#anor3c1a#tw ana bløg#tw ana rant#an4rexia#an4m1a#thin$po#thinspø#tw thinspi#an0r3cia
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Hi can you write Ben Shelton x fem reader where reader is also a pro player and her and Ben are like close friends and team up to play mixed doubles in like the us open and it's kinda like friends to lovers and they being all flirty on court and eventually admit feelings to each other?
TLDR: STORY! Tennisplayer!fem reader x Ben Shelton friends to lovers. Sort of took them flirty on and off court. Tried to build it up. Mention of Bryan Shelton and Tommy Paul cameo, thanks for stopping by, kings.
Word count + info: 17.6k! SUPER LONG STORYTIME w dialogue! (over an hour's worth of reading, ouu you're well fed tonight)
Character Inspo: Just a sweet girl, like "girl-next-door" girl. Listened to "After the First Kiss" - Faye Webster writing this (cried on first listen, enjoy the link), if that helps you envision sweet, cute, pure vibes. No specifications are mentioned (except a general "shorter" height than Ben).
Warnings + Content Ahead: SFW - no warnings - slight mention of cheating and gaslighting.
Azzie Notes â: Hi my sweet munchkins! I'm so sorry anon, this took so long to come out but life got busy + then tumblr had this unavailable for me when I queued to post which tbh was a miracle bc I was rlly unsure while writing this, and I took my own time to reread and rework it, but idk guess I have writer's block, sorta? It doesn't feel like my best work... be brutally honest w me in ur feedback when u finish reading.
And then also there's a part that was just v vulnerable for me to write, but I couldn't really imagine the scene playing out any differently. Essentially, Y/N's dialogue about her ex - that's my lived experience...erm, so I was just tinkering of ways to rewrite it but I just couldn't think of anything else to fill it with.
Anywho, boy do I have a lotta requests coming up! Be patients w me pls! Also anon, "d" you are a genius, I'm so excited to write ur prompt hehehehe, but sorry if it takes some time :(. I got a Holiday surprise coming up, I'll lyk by the end of the month what that is, but OOOH, SFW Shelton nation, prepare urselves! How are we doing otherwise? Let me know! Are you taking good care of your health in these cold months + wrapping up? Make sure to get your vitamins in! Also, is my tumblr ugly? Should I make a colour theme and redo my masterlist properly? Help?
ââââââââââââââââââââââââ
Beyond the Baseline - B.T.S
The relationship between you and Ben Shelton was like watching day and night play tennis. Seriously, how could you be friends? What did you even have in common? What would you even talk about?
You, polished, textbook perfect, poised. A steady player who never lets emotions show on the court. Confident but never loud about it. After a win, youâd offer a graceful nod to the crowd, maybe a modest fist pump, but never more. Your game was a masterclass in precision in every shot calculated, every movement on and off court methodical. Fans admired how you dismantled opponents with strategy and patience, and your flawless form made it look effortless. Off the court, you were polite and kindred, smiling, making everyone feel at ease without even trying.
You were the embodiment of calm, pristine tennis. If anyone wanted an example of âplaying by the book,â theyâd point to you.
And then there was Ben Shelton.
Ben, who was your complete opposite. Loud, unpredictable, made waves and was unapologetic, and yet, utterly captivating. His game thrived on power and chaos, booming serves, fast sprinting bursts across the court, and reckless dives to the net, every point celebrated with fist pumps and wild energy. He lived for those moments that made crowds roar, he basked and riled the stands. When you calmly shake hands with your opponents, Ben chats effortlessly at the net, teasing, joking, and slapping his opponentâs back with that infectious grin. Impossible to dislike, even when he was cocky. Off the court, he was just as loud, just as alive when socialising. If you were a quiet, steady river with your course set, Ben was a wildfire, impossible to contain or predict.
Yet, somehow, despite your differences, you clicked.
It all started that first year on tour at a crossover event where the tours shared a venue. After a long day of matches, you found yourself in the players' lounge, neatly perched in a plush chair, legs crossed, posture upright and as perfect as ever. You still had that composed, in-control air about you, ready to handle anything gracefully.
Then, in strolled Ben Shelton.
He collapsed into the chair across from you, manspreading like it was his personal throne, slouching so far down it was a wonder he didnât slide onto the floor.
He glanced at you with a lazy grin, his curls messy and unruly, his eyes sparkling with mischief. âY'always sit like youâre posing for the cover of Tennis Monthly?â he asked, amusement laced with that accent of his, no intention of introductions or small talk.
You blinked, taken aback for a few seconds. âI-...what?â
âYeah,â he continued, sitting up a bit as he waved a hand at your upright posture. âWeâre off the court. Y'know, you can relax, right?â
You stared, completely thrown off by his audacity. Who starts a conversation like that? And how do you even reply to that? You didnât even know him well, yet here he was already challenging you. Your lips broke into an awkward, tight line as your mouth was still agape, trying to find words to respond - not that you needed to, it seemed like Ben had more to tease you about, clearly enjoying your confusion with a wider, gummy smile.
âDonât tell me you play tennis like this too, all tight 'n rigid. That's so boring.â
It took a moment, but when you finally brought your eyes up to his, you burst out laughing. His nerve! âYou did not just say that,â you managed between giggles, shaking your head in disbelief. âMy tennis form? Really? You want to talk about form and play?â
He shrugged, not even a little apologetic, enjoying the riffing as his feet rested against the coffee table filling the gap between you two. âJust sayin' loosen up. This isnât a press conference. I mean, d'you even know how to slouch?â
You shot him a playful, mock-serious look, tucking a strand behind your ear as you leaned forward, your arms resting on your folded legs. âI can slouch.â
His eyebrows shot up in mock surprise, folding his arms over his chest. âOh yeah? Prove it.â
You paused, narrowing your eyes at him in a challenge. Slowly, way more dramatically than necessary, you leaned back in your chair, gently scooting down an inch on the chair, still keeping your legs crossed but allowing just enough of a slouch to break your normally perfect posture. You looked more uncomfortable than anything, your back now curved, while every other inch of your body remained proper.
Ben snorted, shaking his head, eyes gleaming with amusement. âWowwww,â he said, barely holding back a laugh. âLook at you. A real rebel huh?â
You rolled your eyes, bringing yourself back up to sit properly, but couldnât stop the smile tugging at your lips. âIâm not trying to impress you, you know.â
âOh?â he cocked his head to the side like a puppy, his grin turning into something softer. âToo late. You already have.â
Your heart skipped a beat, his words catching you completely off guard. There was something about the way he said it, teasing, but with an undertone that made butterflies dance in your stomach and your skin buzz. You found yourself opening your mouth to respond, but just like the other attempts, nothing came out. You just stared at him, feeling completely disarmed by his effortless charm. He didnât push, just grinned and waited, like he was used to leaving people speechless.
How much confidence could a guy have, and how could he play it off so casually that you don't even mind it?
And in that moment, there was no awkward silence, no need for formalities. Just easy, unexpected banter that flowed naturally and lingered in your mind for longer than you'd like to admit. It wasnât what youâd expected from someone like Ben, but somehow, it felt right. He opened a side of you within a few conversations, a side that took years of coaxing from some of your closest friends. You couldn't even explain it, for everything you both were and were not, somehow ying and yang, a mountain and a streaming river, you were opposites and yet fit together like a landscape. Heâd broken through your perfectly composed exterior, making you laugh and talk without even trying, and for some reason, you didnât mind at all.
And now here you are, present day, strolling through an Australian mall at midday, looking the ever-polar opposites.
You strode in your knitted cardigan top and straight-leg pants while Ben towered over in a casual t-shirt and his signature stupidly short black shorts. Your arm was casually linked with Benâs, your steps in sync like this was second nature. It wasnât unusual for you two to walk like this; in fact, it would be strange if you didnât. Over time as you both got to know each other, it had started as a joke but became a habit, something along the lines of Ben not wanting you to get "swept away by the crowds". You shared this easy closeness, the kind that people would easily mistake for a couple, but it was just the way you were.
Or at least, thatâs what you told yourselves.
âHey,â Benâs voice interrupted your thoughts. You blinked, realising he was watching you, that knowing grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. His finger was pointing at a poster right beside a warm small shop.
âDidnât you mention that necklace before on call a while ago? Wanna go in and have a look?â
You shook your head, brushing it off. âOh, no, I was just-â
Before you could finish, he was already steering you toward the small store, his hand warm on your shoulder. âCâmon, just looking, right? Besides, you need to get somethin' while we're here. Not like you can't afford it.â He flashed you a wink that made your stomach flip.
The two of you stepped into the warm-lit shop, drawing a few amused glances from the few other customers and the shop assistant. It only really occurred just odd you two looked, Ben in his usual casual attire, slouched with his hands in his pockets, striding while examining the glass displays and you, neat and polished, hands folded and shy.
Ben leaned close, glancing over the cases as if he actually knew what he was looking at. âSo youâre gonna match with me and get one of those silver chains, right?â He tugged at his thick metal chain with a smirk, raising an eyebrow at you.
You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. âYeah, Ben, because that would look so âme,â right?â
He snorted. âWhat, scared of a little edge? Imagine the next headline: âGood Girl Gone Badâ â
âOr,â you retorted, arching a brow, âit could just read âWTA Pro Loses It With a Clear Cry for Help.ââ
He chuckled, his laugh low and genuinely amused. But then his expression softened as he caught sight of the delicate rose-gold necklace youâd been admiring. âAlright, alright. Letâs see the one youâre actually into.â
You glanced at him, surprised he remembered the specific piece. And the next thing you knew, he had the case brought out by the sales assistant. The delicate rose gold chain necklace with its beautifully intricate pendant sat in front of you. It wasn't long before the cool metal met your fingers as you gently hauled it out from its bed and into your hands, your breath hitching as you studied it dozens of times, trying to engrave it into your memory. Before you could think twice, you broke your trance and handed it to him.
âHelp me put it on?â
Benâs brows shot up, but he didnât hesitate. âTurning this into a whole trust exercise, huh?â
âShut up,â you muttered, turning around and sweeping your hair aside.
âTurn around,â he said, his voice quiet with a flutter of nervousness.
Obediently, you turned, holding your hair up and out of the way, feeling his hands slip around to clasp the necklace at the back of your neck. His fingers brushed your skin, surprisingly gently, and suddenly it was hard to focus on anything else but the feel of his hands there. His fingers trembled ever so slightly, his large digits fiddling with the small dainty clasp. You couldn't help but feel hyper-aware of his touch as you let out a small gasp, only for you to hear; the way he just barely grazed your neck for fleeting milliseconds, how his breath was ghosting over your ear in steady, focused breaths, how his tongue stuck out ever so slightly as he focused, his eyes honed in on getting this one thing right just for you - it was far too much.
You swallowed, realising this was the first time heâd ever been this close in this way, this⌠tender. A part of you wanted to step forward, break the tension, take the necklace and put it on yourself, the burning, buzzing sensation being oh so overwhelming to the point where it felt you might evaporate on this spot, right here right now. But realistically even if you really wanted to, you couldn't force or make yourself move, the feeling was like a drug, coursing through you and this was your euphoria, your high, something you hadn't felt in a long time, or maybe ever and you had no intention of cutting it short.
You gently bring your gaze up from your shoes, to the mirror and stare at him, running your eyes over his face. It's just a necklace, he's just helping you, c'mon get it together!
âThere,â he said, his voice barely above a whisper, and you felt the clasp fall onto your skin. But he didnât step back right away. His fingers trailed down, skimming the nape of your neck, and for a second you thought - no, you knew - he was about to say something else, he took a sharp intake but then hesitated and remained in his silence. You look up in the mirror, seeing him still staring at your neck, and your hair, slowly meeting your eyes in the mirror before he realises he's been caught. He stepped back, his familiar grin slipping back into place, and the moment passed like a puff of smoke.
âHow does it look?â you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking free from the dizzy haze you've created in your head.
âLooks good,â he said lightly, and you hated the way your heart twisted at the easy casualness of his tone. He flashed you that infuriating smile, the one that made you both want to slap him and pull him closer at the same time.
âYeah,â you said, your voice tight, almost irritated that you felt this intense pull that didn't seem to affect him nearly as much as it affected you. âThanks.â
Your hand delicately took the pendant between your fingers, toying with it as you both stared at each other in the mirror entranced for a few moments, something shifting. You turned back to the display, focusing hard on the jewellery cases even though you could still feel the phantom warmth of his hands on your skin. You forced yourself to breathe evenly, to ignore the way your heart was racing, to pretend like everything was fine.
But as you looked at your reflection in the storeâs mirror, the delicate gold resting against your collarbone, you couldnât help but wonder if he knew, if he could feel it, too. The slow, insidious shift between you, the way everything had started to mean something when it was supposed to mean nothing at all. It wasn't the first time that Ben had done or said something that froze you, but it seems as though every encounter grows in its intensity, and worse, builds more confusion and haze inside of you.
âGuess that means youâre getting it, right?â
You gave him a shy smile breaking from your thoughts, turning around on your heel, still feeling the heat lingering on your neck. âI⌠think I might.â
As you admired the necklace in your hands, Ben flashed you a grin and excused himself, slipping off towards the main counter. You assumed he was just idly browsing or looking for something to keep him occupied while you made your decision. But when you turned to check on him, you saw him whispering something to the cashier, glancing over at you with a suspiciously wide grin.
You squinted, realising too late what he was up to. Just as you started toward him, the assistant whoâd been helping you gently tapped your shoulder.
âMiss?â she said, her voice sweet but carefully practised. âWe actually just got a similar collection of rose-gold necklaces in. You might want to take a look.â
You shot her a polite smile, still watching Ben out of the corner of your eye. âOh, I think Iâve found the one-â
But Ben was already flashing his card to the cashier, sending you a playful wink and sticking his tongue out between his smile, before your assistant intercepted you again with a dazzling necklace display. By the time you returned to the counter, Ben was leaning casually, arms crossed, the structured paper bag already in his hand.
âBen!â you hissed, reaching for it.
He laughed, holding it just out of your reach as he leaned in, his grin bordering on smug. âYou donât remember mentioninâ it twice, right?â he drawled, dripping with his usual playful tone, the same one that had you engaged from the day you first met. âCouldnât risk lettinâ ya walk away from somethinâ you actually like.â
You smacked his arm lightly, only making him laugh more as he ducked away, looping his arm casually around your waist to draw you into a side hug. The warmth of his touch lingered, his hand resting comfortably at your hip. It was the sort of touch that shouldâve felt natural by now, but somehow, it left you flustered. He was supposed to be the loud, obnoxious friend who made everyone laugh. So why did it feel like every touch, every sideways glance in your direction, especially today, held a weight that left you breathless? You hated that it was him, the one person you thought youâd never lose your cool around, who could make your composure slip so effortlessly.
âDonât go gettinâ all mad,â he said, that easy grin still in place, his accent softening in a way that had your stomach fluttering. âItâs just a little token of your winnin's.â
You mumbled something about unfair tactics, even as your hand settled into his. He finally laughed, still holding your bag and chuckling as he looked around the mall. His gaze landed on a clothing shop just ahead, and his face lit up.
âAlright, you got your shiny new necklace. Now youâre helpinâ me pick out a hoodie,â he said, giving you a grin that could only be described as downright cocky. âLetâs see if I can look half as put together as you.â
âFine,â you replied, barely suppressing a smile, âbut don't expect me to return the payment favour, that's on you.â
Ben just laughed, letting you walk in first before he strolled in behind you. âWouldnât dream of it.â
Once inside, Ben beelined for the hoodies, pulling out everything he could get his hands on without checking the tags or sizes. He held up a dark blue one with a shrug, grinning as he tossed it in your direction. âThis oneâs a classic, right? Nice and oversized?â
âBen,â you said, giving him an exasperated look as you held the fabric up, it's nowhere near his size, way too small. âThis wouldnât even fit you like a sleeve. This would be a corset for you. Besides, since when do you need an oversized anything?â
He chuckled, looking down at his broad shoulders and long frame. âPoint taken. Letâs see, youâre gonna have to help me find somethinâ⌠refined. Like me.â
You rolled your eyes, but reached for a khaki cream-coloured hoodie, holding it up in front of him. âThis oneâs got âactually dressed himselfâ written all over it.â
Ben took it from you and pulled it over his head without bothering to even look for the changing rooms, letting it settle over his broad shoulders and across his arms, the fabric fitting perfectly. He adjusted the sleeves, smoothing out a crease as he caught your eye with a playful smirk.
âSo, how do I look? All cleaned up, or just half?â
You stepped closer, straightening the hood and smoothing the fabric across his chest and shoulders. âNot bad,â you said, nodding approvingly. âMaybe the best-dressed youâve ever been for casual attire.â
Ben cleared his throat, a small blush creeping up his neck before he made a funny face at you and pushed your face away with his palm, making you laugh. You reached up and tugged the hood down over his face in response. âStop it! Do you ever act normal?â
From underneath the hood, his face was hidden but the smile in his tone gave him away. âNormal? Câmon, that doesnât sound like me at all.â
He yanked the hood off, reaching for another hoodie, examining a grey one this time. He pulled the cream hoodie up over his head, and just as he tugged it up, you realised his T-shirt was trying to come with it. Without thinking, you reached over and tugged his shirt back down, cheeks warming as he slipped into the hoodie with a cheeky grin.
âGood save,â he said, finally adjusting the fit with a little salute. âNow I really gotta make you my official stylist.â
âOh, if it means I get to stop you from embarrassing yourself in public, Iâll do it,â you replied with a grin.
Ben just rolled his eyes sassily as he watched you inspect the look as he pulled the grey one on. âDonât go givinâ me too many compliments now. Might go straight to my head.â
You laughed, giving his chest a final pat. âIâd say weâve got it just right.â
After a long day of shopping and conversing together, the last thing you needed was more conversation, you couldn't wait to take yourself to your hotel room and sink in everything that had happened and everything that had been felt. As you took your small bags from Ben's hands you stood in the elevator, engrossed in the gossip Ben was subjecting you to, something to do with car dealers. Somewhere along the way, Ben had even pressed the button to your floor himself.
By the time you unlocked your door, it was almost automatic; you turned to face him, assuming heâd say goodbye and let you get some rest. But he strolled right in, still mid-sentence, as if he had every right to be there. You stood in the doorframe, breaking your smile and shaking your head, mouth agape as you realised what just happened.
âBen... did you just follow me into my hotel room?â you asked, crossing your arms as you watched him plop down on your bed like he owned the place.
âPfft,â he scoffed, âdonât flatter yourself. You ainât got nothinâ in here worth followinâ you for - âcept maybe more of that wild fashion sense you got.â He shot you a teasing grin, his eyes flicking over to the small shopping bags youâd set down on the dresser.
You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. âOh, so now youâre a fashion critic too? I didnât hear you complaining when I helped you pick out those hoodies.â
He laughed, that easy, familiar sound filling the room, and leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. âYeah, yeah, yeah. But I still think you coulda gone a little crazier. All that walking around and y' bought tiny, little things like that necklace. Real tame, you know?â
You rolled your eyes, fighting the urge to smile. âItâs called being tasteful, Ben. Not everyone can rock 'big and bold' like you.â
He gave you a mock-offended look, his drawl growing thicker. âWell, we canât all be boring, now can we, darlin'?â
You felt a flicker of something under his words - the teasing words hung in the air longer than you expected, and you felt a jolt of something, nothing you could name, but enough to make you look away first, pretending to busy yourself with the bags again as you cleared your throat.
âRight,â you said, voice light, âbecause youâre the definition of exciting. The guy who almost bought a novelty koala mug for fifty bucks.â
âHey, c'mon now, that mug was a steal,â he shot back, eyes glinting with amusement. âAnd besides, whoâs gonna stop me? You?â
You giggled softly, flopping down beside him on your stomach, your elbow brushing the bedspread as you kept a careful inch of space between you. The gap between you felt electric, buzzing with that familiar charge you both pretended not to notice. âI already did, remember? Iâve saved you so many times from a lifetime of tacky souvenirs. Youâd be drowning in cheap tourist mugs if it werenât for me.â
Benâs face softened, his smirk fading into something almost thoughtful as he rolled onto his side, propping his head up with one hand. âGuess I owe you, then,â he said quietly, his tone lower, like he was sharing a secret.
The room seemed to hold its breath, and you swore the sunlight dimmed just a little, softening the angles of his face. For a heartbeat, you thought he was going to say something more, something that would change everything between you. You caught the scent of his cologne, warm and fresh with a hint of spice, and your eyes flickered down to his lips, wondering if heâd noticed the way youâd frozen like a deer in headlights, caught between teasing and leaning in, unsure if you were daring him or daring yourself.
His gaze dropped, almost imperceptibly, to where your fingers played with the loose thread on the edge of the bedspread, and it was like he saw right through you. The air crackled, the tension stretching out like a taut string, ready to snap making you feel all sorts of woozy. You knew if you moved, if you even breathed too deeply, it would shatter whatever fragile moment this was. He was watching you so closely, noticing everything, the angle of your face, the way your hair fell, the way your breath caught just a little too fast, the tiny smile you couldnât quite hide.
And then he grinned as he caught your smile; a lazy, crooked grin that made your heart skip. The vulnerability in his eyes flickered and was gone, hidden behind that familiar playful charm. It was safer that way, easier to laugh it off than to admit there might be something real between you.
You nudged him gently with your shoulder, letting out a breath you hadnât realised youâd been holding, aching from the sincere moment but almost glad it passed. Almost.
âYou definitely do,â you said, your voice deliberately light.
Ben chuckled, a warm, rumbling sound that made you feel both safe and entirely off-balance. âDeal, you got it. How about some snacks? But, if Iâm buyinâ, you canât go pullinâ that health-nut stuff on me. Itâs gotta be a proper snack run, none of your boring, practical choices.â
âOh, Iâm so there,â you replied, half laughing, half trying to mask the flush that was still heating your cheeks. âJust donât get all whiny if I veto your terrible taste.â
He sat up, giving you a mockingly serious look, his expression exaggeratedly grave. âWhiny? I donât whine. Iâm just... persuasive.â
âSure you are,â you teased, feeling the tension still lingering about in the air.
You reached out to push his shoulder playfully, but he was faster. His hand caught yours, fingers curling around yours in a way that sent a spark racing up your arm. For a second, everything went still, the noise from the street outside faded, and the weight of the bed shifted beneath you, but all you could feel was the heat of his palm against yours.
It was Ben who let go first, his eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous spark. â9, donât be late,â he said, pushing himself off the bed with a careless grin.
You watched him head for the door, your pulse still racing in your chest. âIâm never late,â you shot back, trying to sound unaffected despite the way your voice wavered, light and teasing.
He paused in the doorway, throwing a look over his shoulder, his eyes softer than usual, almost expectant. âWeâll see about that,â he said with a wink before disappearing into the hallway, leaving you staring at the closed door, still lying on the bed, with a strange, buzzing feeling beneath your skin. You couldn't help but feel the heat rise to your face, your hand on fire from the interaction as you stared around, dumbfounded from the passing moments.
Later that night, you headed to the hotel lobby, the low hum of late-night travellers and the clinking of glass doors filling the space. You spotted Ben before he saw you, leaning casually against a column in a purple hoodie, scrolling through his phone with a barely-there smile tugging at his lips.
He looked up the second the elevator doors opened, and whatever heâd been expecting, it wasnât you in a simple top with the sleeves pushed up and cargo pants, like you were trying too hard to look like you werenât trying at all.
His eyebrows lifted, a grin spreading slow and wide. âThatâs what youâre wearinâ?â he said, not even bothering to hide his amusement.
You scoffed, furrowing your brows, shoving your hands in your pockets before muttering, âYeah... whatâs wrong with it?â
He rolled his eyes, but you caught the way they softened, something playful and gentle mingling with the mischief. Without saying a word, he dug into his bag and pulled out a well-worn hoodie, its cuffs fraying slightly and the colour slightly faded from too many washes. âHere,â he said, thrusting it at you. âYouâre not goinâ anywhere with me like that.â
You gave him a long, unamused stare. âSeriously?â
âSeriously,â he shot back, voice dropping lower, teasing. âDonât make me beg.â
You snatched the hoodie from him with a huff, feeling a warmth that had nothing to do with the fabric as you slipped it over your head. It was massive, swallowing you whole, the sleeves dangling well past your hands. You tugged at the cuffs, rolling them up clumsily and folding the bottom into your waistband so it didn't completely swallow you up as Ben watched with a satisfied smirk.
âBetter,â he declared, like heâd personally fixed a crisis.
âHappy now?â you asked, your voice sharper than youâd intended, but you couldnât help the way your heart picked up speed when he looked at you like that like you were more than just some friend he dragged along on a whim.
He just grinned and nodded. âLetâs go.â
The grocery store was nearly empty, the white-lit aisles stretching out like pathways to nowhere. The two of you wandered slowly at first, examining small differences side by side, until you found yourselves in the snack aisle, surrounded by walls of bright, neon packaging. Ben was in his element, zeroing in on the loudest, most ridiculous options like a kid in a candy store.
He plucked a bag of neon-orange chips from the shelf, shaking it lightly. âAlright,â he said, his tone suddenly all business, âWhatâs your stance on cheese puffs?â
You glanced at the bag and back at him, raising an eyebrow. âThatâs not food, thatâs...radioactive material. Nothing should be that orange.â
He gasped mouth agape before forming a pout, side-eyeing you. âLoud and wrong, but okay...â
You snatched the bag from his hand, tossing it into the cart anyway. âFine. But weâre getting something that wonât kill us on the spot too.â
âOh, here we go,â he groaned, watching as you added a box of granola bars to the mix with a self-satisfied smile. He shook his head, grabbing the cart handle and steering it down the aisle with a flourish.
âYouâre no fun.â
âSomebody has to be the adult,â you said lightly, your shoulder brushing his as you walked.
The cart squeaked slightly as you rounded the corner, stopping to examine a box and before you knew it, Ben had snuck up behind you, his hands on your waist, lifting you off the floor in one swift movement. You barely had time to react before he dropped you, albeit with a slightly abrupt drop, laughing into the cart like it was the most natural thing in the world. You gasped, grabbing at the edges of the cart to steady yourself as he pushed forward, his laughter echoing off the empty shelves.
âBen, what are you doing?â you demanded, half-exasperated, half-laughing as the cart picked up speed.
âShoppinâ!â he said nonchalantly, his voice lilting with barely suppressed giggles. âWhatâs it look like?â
You tried to glare at him, but the sound of his laughter, the way he moved so easily beside you, pulling you into his orbit, made it impossible to be mad. He flipped the hood over your face without warning, almost like payback from your antics earlier and you yelped, fumbling to throw it off your face as he made a dramatic show of spinning the cart around in circles in a wide arc, as if he were doing doughnuts in his car, laughing as you swayed and clung to the sides.
âBen, youâre insane!â you shouted, but it came out more like a giggle, and you knew heâd hear it for what it was; a thrill you couldnât quite hide.
âYeah, but you love it!â he shot back, slowing the cart and landing it to face him, just enough to meet your eyes, the world narrowing down to the space between you. His smile was softer now, more intimate like heâd forgotten you were in a brightly lit grocery store at all.
For a second, you forgot too. Forgot about the shelves stacked high with candy and cereal, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead as your world came back from spinning and went straight into those puppy-dog brown eyes that always invited you so warmly. It was just him, and the warmth in him, the way he was looking at you like he could see straight through all the walls youâd built up.
Then he blinked, breaking the moment, and you cleared your throat, holding your sides tighter like it was armour. âCâmon,â you said, your voice a little too casual. âWe still need to get some popcorn.â
His smirk returned a flash of teeth and mischief. âOnly if I get to pick.â
âFine,â you said, hopping out of the cart in a not-so-gracious way, almost tripping and falling over before you found your feet, while he squeezed his eyes shut and stifled a laugh. You ignored him and nudged him aside as you led the way, leaving him and the cart behind. âWeâre not getting any of that sugar-loaded nonsense.â
âDeal,â he said easily, falling back into step beside you, close enough that his arm brushed yours with every step as he leaned onto the shopping cart's handle. It was comfortable, this back-and-forth, like a dance youâd both practised without realising.
The rest of the trip was a blur of bright colours and easy laughter, you vetoing his most ridiculous choices and him sneaking them into the cart when he thought you werenât looking. There was something electric in the air, a charge that made you feel light and breathless. Every time your eyes met, it was like the world shrunk just a little more, leaving just the two of you standing there, suspended in a moment that neither of you wanted to end.
By the time you left, the night air was cool and crisp, and the city lights blurred into a haze of gold and blue. You carried your small, modest box of granola bars easily while Ben lugged a full backpack and a crinkling, overstuffed plastic bag of brightly coloured chaos, bumping your shoulder with his as you walked.
âYâknow,â he began, adding a lazy warmth to the night air, âif you think for one second thatâs the last time Iâm gonna put you in a cart, youâre wrong.â
You huffed out a small laugh, shaking your head. âOh yeah? You're planning on carrying me around as part of your personal grocery haul from now on?â
He shot you a playful grin, his smile wide and easy. âMight just make it a habit. You fit in there pretty nice.â
Rolling your eyes, you bumped his arm with yours, but the warmth lingered longer than you expected. âYouâre a menace, you know that?â
âHey, I don't hear nobody complaininâ âbout beinâ chauffeured around,â he shot back, his eyes glimmering in the low streetlights. âAnd donât pretend you didnât love it. Saw you smilinâ the whole way.â
You tried to hide your grin, biting down on your lip. âI was not smiling.â
âSure you werenât,â he said, his voice dipping into a teasing drawl, and you knew he saw right through you. He always did, with that irritating, endearing way of his.
He kept walking, and you fell into an easy stride beside him, the silence that stretched out feeling warm, and comfortable, the kind that made you feel like you didnât need to fill it with words.
As you cross the street, your fingers accidentally brush his for a split second, and you both tense up, the smallest contact sparking between you like static. But he didnât pull away. Instead, he shot you a quick, almost shy smile before looking up at the half-lit sky.
âIâve got an idea,â he said suddenly as if the thought had just hit him. âThereâs this cafĂŠ I saw online, right? Said theyâve got the best breakfast sandwiches in Australia. And it's like, a 15-minute walk from the hotel.â
You raised an eyebrow, amused. âYeah? And what, youâre planning to drag me out of bed before dawn just to try a sandwich?â
âExactly! You read my mind!â he yelped excitedly without missing a beat, clearly not hearing your sarcasm. âWeâll beat the crowd! No lines, best seat in the house. Plus,â he added with a wink, âyou look like you could use a proper breakfast after that grocery store workout.â
You gave him a sceptical look, though a smile tugged at your lips. âFine. But if itâs some overhyped, greasy thing, you owe me.â
âIâll take that bet,â he said, flashing that confident grin that made it impossible to say no. The walk back to the hotel was quieter, the playful back-and-forth giving way to a comfortable, unspoken understanding that neither of you wanted to break. After many attempts at trying to close the door on Ben only to be interrupted by "Wait, one last thing before I go"'s and many, many awful jokes, you finally found yourself drained as you collapsed onto your bed. You quickly set a reminder for his ridiculous plan, and a dreadful 5am alarm was made, leaving you with not nearly enough time to rest after the day's antics.
The alarm dragged you out of a deep sleep way too soon, feeling like you had just fallen into slumber. You groaned, fumbling to silence it, barely managing to swing your legs over the side of the bed before realising you were still wrapped in Benâs hoodie, the fabric heavy and warm, smelling of cologne and well, him. Blinking blearily, you forced yourself to move, your mind foggy with sleep, the hotel room still wrapped in low shadow. The chill of the early hour made you pull the hoodie tighter around yourself, the soft material a comfort against the cold.
When you finally stumbled downstairs to the lobby, he was already there, leaning casually against the doorframe, one hand shoved into his pocket, the other holding a steaming ceramic cup of coffee. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, and you noticed the way his eyes went wide for a second before he quickly masked it with a crooked smile. His hair was messy, and he looked like he hadnât been awake for long, but the sight of him made your chest feel oddly light. You were still half-asleep, your hair barely brushed, eyes slightly open, and wearing his hoodie like it was a shield against the early morning chill.
"Hey, sleepyhead," he said, his voice rough and deep with sleep, the sound of it washing over you like a warm wave. There was a hitch in his tone, something unsteady and unguarded, and it made your stomach flutter in a way you couldnât quite explain. "You look... cozy."
You tried to rub the sleep from your eyes, barely registering his words. âWhat?â you mumbled, blinking up at him.
The lights in the lobby were harsh, making you squint, and you fumbled with the hood, pushing it back slightly. Your fingers felt clumsy, too heavy, and you knew you looked a mess. No makeup, hair lazily brushed, the sleeves of his hoodie falling over your hands like a second blanket.
His gaze lingered, and he cleared his throat, glancing away quickly like heâd seen something he shouldnât. âI, uh... youâre wearinâ my hoodie,â he said, a slow smile tugging at his lips despite the awkwardness in his voice.
âDidnât think youâd be, yâknow, sleepinâ in it.â
Your cheeks warmed, and you shrugged, still too groggy to care much. âItâs comfortable,â you muttered, your voice muffled with sleep. âI just⌠forgot to take it off.â
He was quiet for a beat too long like he was turning your words over in his mind, and you noticed the way he was looking at you, really looking, like he was seeing something he hadnât expected. You wanted to say something, to break the strange heaviness of the moment, but your brain felt slow and thick with exhaustion, and all you could do was yawn and shift your weight from one foot to the other.
âYeah?â he asked, his voice softer, a bit hesitant, like he wasnât sure if he should keep pushing. His eyes were bright despite the early hour, lingering on the way his hoodie hung loose on your frame, the oversized fabric almost swallowing you. âWell, it... looks good on you. Real good.â
You ducked your head, a sleepy laugh escaping your lips, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped at his words. âIâm sure it does, c'mon let's get going if we want to beat the queue or whatever,â you teased, though there was no bite behind it. You didnât have the energy for anything but honesty, and you were still caught up in the warmth of his hoodie, the way it felt like a shield against the morning chill.
His grin softened, and he rubbed the back of his neck, looking suddenly self-conscious. âNah, I mean it,â he said, his drawl slow and unsteady. âDidnât know youâd make my old thing look that good.â
You shrugged again, feeling your face flush as you ducked your chin deeper into the collar of the hoodie. âGuess Iâll take that as a compliment,â you said, your voice barely above a whisper, your eyes still half-closed, struggling to focus in the dim lighting.
âYeah, you should,â he said, the words coming out a little too fast like he couldnât quite control the way they slipped out. He was still watching you, his gaze almost tender, his usual confidence faltering in the face of your sleepy vulnerability.
You felt an odd sensation bloom in your chest. Something soft and unsteady, and you werenât sure if it was the early hour, his deep, sleep-rough voice, or the way he couldnât seem to look away from you. You fumbled to roll up the too-long sleeves, your fingers barely managing to fold the fabric back, and Benâs gaze followed the movement, his eyes flickering with something you couldnât quite name.
He hesitated, then stepped closer, his movements careful and unhurried, like he was testing the boundaries of whatever this was between you. He lifted his coffee cup, its warmth radiating outwards as he held it just inches from your face. âHere,â he offered his voice still that deep morning rumble that made your stomach twist. âYou look like you could use this more than I do.â
Ben handed you the mug, and as you took a sip, your fingers barely brushed his, such a small, fleeting touch that it might as well have been an accident. But the warmth of it lingered, and Benâs eyes, still sleepy but more awake than yours, didnât stray from your face. You were too groggy to notice as you took a deep gulp of the warm coffee. It was rich and comforting, exactly what you needed to get moving, and you barely caught the way Ben's gaze softened as you closed your eyes and sighed contentedly.
You held the mug back out to him, half-smiling as you blinked against the morning light spilling through the windows. âOkay, I'll admit, itâs good,â you admitted, handing it over with a sleepy grin.
Ben grinned back, his tone suddenly lighter as he accepted the mug again. âMhm, damn right,â his drawl thick in the early hour, the kind that always made you feel just a bit more awake than you were ready for. His voice was deep, still rough from sleep, and you felt a strange flutter at the sound of it, so different from his usual light-hearted teasing. He looked like he wanted to add something further, but instead, he raised the mug to his lips, pausing for the briefest moment before taking a sip from the exact spot where your mouth had just been.
âLetâs go,â he said softly, his voice a little rough, almost hesitant, and you nodded, letting him lead the way out into the slowly illuminating streets.
The walk to the cafĂŠ was quiet, but it was a different kind of quiet now, one that felt heavy with things left unsaid, with the strange intimacy of the moment lingering between you like a secret. Your footsteps echoed against the pavement, and you felt more awake with each step, the chilly air biting at your face and the faint light from the rising sun glinting off the windows above. Ben was walking a little too close, his arm brushing yours every now and then, and you noticed the way he kept sneaking glances at you as if he was trying to memorise every detail, the way his hoodie pooled around your hips, the faint shadow of sleep still lingering in your eyes and on your pouted lips, the way you hadnât bothered to fix your hair or hide the bare honesty of your face.
âDon't think Iâve ever seen you this early before,â he said suddenly, his voice breaking the silence, low and rumbling like distant thunder. âNo makeup, no fancy clothes. Just... I don't know, man, just you.â
You looked up at him, squinting a little against the first light of dawn, and tried to muster up some kind of retort, but all you could manage was a half-hearted, sleepy smile. âDisappointed?â you teased, your voice barely above a whisper.
âNot even a little,â he said, and the sincerity in his voice hit you like a punch to the gut. He smiled, the edges of his mouth curling up in that familiar way that made your heart skip, and you found yourself smiling back without even realising it, feeling lighter and warmer than you had in a long time.
The two of you arrived at the cafĂŠ, footsteps slowing as you got closer. But when you reached the door, your heart sank. Not a single person lined up. The cafĂŠ was dark, the interior shrouded in shadows, and there, taped to the inside of the window, was a handwritten sign that read: Closed. Opens at 7 AM.
You blinked at it, still half-asleep, your shoulders slumping as disappointment settled in. âBen,â you dragged a hand over your face before narrowing your eyes at him, âyouâre telling me I couldâve slept for two more hours? I thought it'd be open sooner!â
âHey, who needs sleep?â he said, shrugging without a hint of regret. He gestured to the empty curb across the street with a grin. âCâmon. Letâs sit it out. Iâll make the time fly right by.â
You rolled your eyes but couldnât help the small smile tugging at your lips. Despite the chill in the early-morning air, you settled beside him on the curb, arms wrapped tightly around yourself as you rested your chin atop your knees. The street was quiet in the way only early morning can be, just the two of you and the distant hum of a waking city.
Ben stretched his long legs out in front of him like he owned the street. There was something so easy about sitting there with him in the silence, the air crisp and the sky just beginning to lighten with the first hints of dawn. You watched the horizon, focusing on the deepening shades of indigo and pale gold, the familiar comfort of the city awakening inch by inch. It was strange how easy it was to be around him, how your guard dropped without you even noticing. His presence was effortless, and the way his eyes rested on you every now and then, like you were someone worth seeing, made you feel something you didnât quite want to name yet.
âYou know,â he murmured, a hint of his usual humour in his tone, âyouâre not half bad at relaxinâ after all.â
You shot him a soft glare, lips twitching. âAre you trying to say Iâm fun?â
âHmm...Iâd say a little more than fun,â he replied, his smile widening. âBut letâs just leave it at that for now. At least no oneâs in line, so weâll get the best seat in the house when they do openâ He glanced over to you as he leaned back on his palms.
You chuckled, glancing at the empty street. The entire street was silent, just the two of you in the quiet stillness of dawn. You relaxed a little, sinking further into the oversized hoodie that smelled like him, comforting and familiar.
After a while, he nudged you with his shoulder, his eyes up to the sky but his voice low. âYou ever notice how I always seem to get you roped into these side quests of mine?â he asked, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. âErrands, random snack runs, you name it.â
You shot him a sideways glance, fighting back a smirk. âOh, Iâve noticed. You have a knack for it, Ben. Youâre lucky I can keep up. You nominated me for laundry duty last week too.â
He let his head back with a laugh. âWell, youâre good at it.â
You rolled your eyes, unable to help the smile that pulled at your lips. âOr maybe youâre just lazy.â
âNah, itâs âcause youâre the only person whoâll actually come along for the ride,â he admitted, his gaze settling on you with a softness that made your heart skip. âAnyway⌠why donât you ever bring a boyfriend along on one of these little errands? Not like you're short on admirers.â
His question caught you off guard, and you looked away, staring out at the sunrise as your thoughts turned inward. It was a topic you rarely touched, one you hadnât even realised youâd been avoiding until now.âI donât know,â you said softly, your voice distant and hesitant. âI guess, maybe⌠itâs just easier this way?â
âNo one special youâre hiding from me, huh?â Benâs tone was gentle, almost teasing, but his eyes held a genuine curiosity. He wanted to understand.
You swallowed, feeling a lump form in your throat. This was a part of yourself you rarely shared, a shadow youâd kept hidden for a long time. But the stillness of the morning and the warmth in his gaze tugged at something deep inside. âThere was someone,â you admitted, barely above a whisper. âA while ago.â
He didnât say anything, just watched you, the usual teasing gone, replaced by quiet patience.
âHe... he liked that I had my life together, y'know? Like I was this 'go-getter,' always calm and composed,â you said, slowly letting the words surface. âOr at least, thatâs what he told me. He said he liked that I wasnât flashy and that I didnât draw too much attention to myself. I think he appreciated my quiet confidence, and how I could go with the flow. Looking back, I think it was because he thought it made me easier to control...â You let out a short, hollow laugh that didnât reach your eyes.
âI didnât even realise when things shifted,â you continued, voice more firm now. âWhen he went from showing genuine interest to making all the decisions. It must've been gradual, but it felt like it just happened one day; I donât know when it started. Suddenly, he was calling all the shots, and I thought I was just being a good partner. Compromising. Making space for him. Letting him be himself. But I didnât see that, bit by bit, I was putting myself away.â
Benâs jaw tightened, but he remained silent, his attention urging you to go on.
âHeâd ignore my texts for hours, sometimes days, and then act like I was overreacting when I brought it up. But God forbid I missed one of his calls during training or when I was away on tour. If I couldnât stay up late to talk, heâd make it into a huge deal. Weâd set times to call, but heâd never follow throughâand always with some lame excuse.â
You paused, drawing a deep breath, eyes fixed on a point in the distance.
âAnd then there were the arguments,â you said, voice tightening. âAbout the most impossible thingsâlike how I didnât spend enough time with him. How could I when I was half a world away? Or how my career always came first. He said I was boring, that I wasnât spontaneous enough. But whenever I tried to change, there was always something else wrong. No matter what I did, it was never enough.â
Benâs expression darkened, a flicker of frustration tightening the corners of his mouth. His hand was on the curb next to yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skinâgrounding you.
âMaybe he was jealous,â you said, the words almost to yourself. âThatâs what my mom said. Jealous of my success, or of the fact that I had something I loved that wasnât about him. He knew exactly how to make me feel small. Every victory, every career milestone, heâd twist it, make me feel like I was failing him. Like I was always letting him down. I thought... if I could just balance it all if I could make him happy, heâd love me the way I needed. But honestly? I donât even know what I needed anymore, not when he was the one telling me how to feel.â
You swallowed, the bitterness of those memories heavy on your tongue.
âNo matter how much I shifted or tried to be the girl he wanted, it was never enough. There was always another criticism, another reason why I wasnât good enough. I was too selfish, too focused on my career, too indecisive, too... everything. And I believed him. I thought I was the problem. That I just couldnât make him happy.â
A light breeze swept through the street, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling your knees close as if to shield yourself from the weight of those memories.
âHe was... God, Ben, you should've heard him. He was so relentless when he wanted to be. It felt like every part of my life was under a microscope, every single decision, every single choice; it was all wrong. All the things I loved, the things that made me proud, they just started to fade away, like theyâd been drained of colour.â
Your voice cracked slightly, but you pushed on, finding strength in the words youâd never fully voiced before.
âI started to lose myself in a spiral. Everything felt so ... grey, so heavy like I was wading through water. I thought... isnât this what relationships are? Compromise, sacrifice, working through the rough patches? Thatâs what I kept telling myself. I thought if I just tried harder, if I carried the weight for both of us, then maybe heâd be happy again, like how he was in the beginning. But I started wondering if I was even cut out for love. I mean, what does it even mean to love someone, really? All I knew was that I kept losing myself in the process, and it still wasnât nearly enough.â
You exhaled, as the quiet of the morning felt almost too peaceful, the faint chirping of birds contrasting with the heaviness of what you were saying.
âAnd then he cheated,â you continued, your voice flat. âWhen I found out, he didnât even try to deny it. He just looked at me, fatigued, and was like, âWhat did you expect with the way you treat me? Donât be so naive.â But you know what?â
You paused, a strange light creeping into your voice.
âIt was almost a relief. Him cheating... it was my way out. For the first time, I had a solid, undeniable reason to leave. I didnât have to keep convincing myself that I needed to try harder, or that it was all my fault.â
Your voice softened, carrying vulnerability.
âI donât even know if I ever really loved him, or maybe, I don't know how to love. Maybe I just loved the idea of being loved or being enough for someone. But the truth is, I donât think I even know what love is supposed to feel like. I gave everything I had, and it still wasnât right, I felt so drained like a vampire had me. Maybe Iâve never felt real love, or maybe... maybe Iâm just not meant for it.â
Benâs silence was heavy beside you, his gaze unwavering, but you couldnât bring yourself to meet his eyes. The shame and rawness of your words made your throat tighten, but you kept going.
âI stayed until I had nothing left to give until I got cheated on, and even then, I couldnât tell you why. It was like I was trying to win a game I didnât even understand. And in the end, I realised... I never even had him, not truly. I was always chasing something that wasnât there. It was always a losing game, and I was the only one playing.â
Benâs gaze was steady, the weight of your words hanging between you. Then he spoke, his tone warm and sincere. âYou donât deserve someone treating you like that. Not ever. I-"
He squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before he continued.
"I canât even imagine doin' that to you. Youâre more than enough, you always have been. You donât need to change a single thing for anyone. Man, I like you just the way you are because I know you, and I know youâre worth so much more than what you settled for with that dick.â
A tear slid down your cheek, carrying all the hurt youâd kept buried for so long. You werenât crying, not really, but his words had found their way past all your defences, and something inside you softened and broke open.
âDo you really mean that?â you asked, your voice small, almost scared, your eyes searching his.
Benâs eyes locked onto yours, and something in his expression shifted. For a moment, he seemed almost stunned, his face softening, his features melting with a tenderness that made it hard to breathe. He reached out slowly to cup your face with his hand, as if afraid you might pull away, and when you didnât, he gently wiped the tear from your cheek. His fingers lingered, brushing against your skin with a touch so careful it made your heart ache.
âI mean every word,â he said, his voice low and steady, barely more than a whisper. âI see you, Y/N. Iâve always seen you.â
His words hit you like a wave, and the tears came faster, though still silent. Benâs expression softened even further, and he pulled you into him without hesitation, wrapping a strong arm around you, and holding you close. You pressed your face into his shoulder, feeling the warmth and solid comfort of him, and slowly, you let yourself sink into his embrace. He didnât speak, just rubbed your back in gentle circles, his chin resting on top of your head.
After minutes had passed when the tightness in your chest had started to fade and the early morning warmth grew warmer, you felt him smile against your hair. He pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, and he said with a playful grin, âIf this is all it takes to get a hug outta you, I shouldâve asked sooner.â
You couldnât help it, you let out a small, breathy laugh, rolling your eyes even as you stayed close to him, nestling your head before you lifted it up.
âOh, shut up,â you said, smacking his shoulder lightly. âIf I knew you were gonna use emotional blackmail for free hugs, I wouldâve kept my distance.â
He chuckled, the sound low and comforting, and the warmth of the moment settled between you. You pulled away, wiping your face with the oversized sleeves of his old hoodie, the one that had become yours. The quiet returned, peaceful now, the sun creeping higher in the sky and washing everything in shades of soft orange and pink.
You sat together in silence, shoulder to shoulder, the pain slowly ebbing away as the world woke up around you. There was something different between you now, a shift that neither of you said out loud but both of you felt. For the first time in a long time, you felt a weight lift, and you let yourself relax against him, the silence and small conversation comfortable as you felt relief and warmth flow through you.
By the time the cafĂŠ finally opened, you and Ben had spent two hours huddled together as the sun began to bathe you two, and sharing quiet laughter as the world slowly woke up around you. The anticipation of the legendary breakfast had both of you giddy and a little loopy from the early start, making the time fly by.
But when the doors swung open and you finally got your hands on the much-hyped breakfast sandwiches, reality hit. The sandwiches were mediocre, wayyy too salty and the coffee was disappointingly weak. The "famous" breakfast sandwiches that Benâs TikTok video had promised would be life-changing were, frankly, a letdown. Yet, it didnât matter at all.
The two of you slid into a corner booth, expecting to sit across from each other, but Ben surprised you by scooting in right beside you, his thigh pressing lightly against yours. He stretched his legs out under the table, claiming the whole space as his own. You couldnât help but laugh, leaning into his warmth as you sipped your disappointing coffee.
âThis is the most underwhelming breakfast Iâve ever had,â you said, crinkling your nose as you picked at the sandwich.
Ben chuckled, flashing you a mischievous grin. âGuess I owe you a better one, next timeâ he teased, nudging your shoulder with his.
âDamn right, you do,â you shot back with a smirk.
Benâs arm rested casually over the back of the booth, his fingers occasionally brushing your shoulder, sending shivers down your spine. Every small, careless touch, his knee nudging yours, his fingers grazing your hoodie, made it harder to ignore the fluttering in your chest. With each laugh and shared smile, you felt something shifting between you, something that made it impossible to see him as just a friend, especially after being so vulnerable earlier.
As the cafĂŠ started to fill with the morning crowd, you remained on the same side of the booth, your legs tangled comfortably under the table. There was an easy closeness between you now, a kind of unspoken understanding like you were sharing a secret that only the two of you knew. When he reached over to brush a crumb from your lip as you talked, his fingertips barely grazing your skin, you felt your cheeks heat and words stutter, but you didnât pull away. The sun rose higher, streaming golden light through the cafĂŠ windows, and the warmth between you felt softer and more real than any disappointment over a bad breakfast. Benâs presence was grounding, and for the first time in a very long time, you felt genuinely at ease, like the weight of your earlier conversation and all your own personal baggage had lessened, transformed into something lighter by his easy smile and gentle touch.
By the time you both decided to leave, you were still laughing over the overhyped âlegendaryâ breakfast. As you stepped out onto the sun-drenched street, Benâs hand slipped into yours with a light squeeze, like always, as if to say, Iâm still here. Iâve got you. The simple gesture left your skin tingling, and your heart racing just a little faster.
You walked together down the slowly waking street back to the hotel, shoulder to shoulder, arms looped together, a warmth lingering between you that had nothing to do with the sunrise. The world around you was coming alive, but it felt like you were still living in that quiet, private space you'd created in the early morning hours, a small bubble of warmth and closeness that was just yours. Of course, it couldn't last long, not with training and matches coming up alongside personal commitments and whatever else, but having this quiet time together was more than rewarding.
As the cafĂŠ faded into the past, so did the warmth of those golden moments, but the echoes lingered. It wasnât just the memory of his hand brushing yours or the way his laugh had chased away the lingering shadows of your conversation. It was the way he lingered, so effortlessly, so relentlessly, in the quiet spaces of your life.
You couldnât stop thinking about him as your tour carried you to different cities. The way his hand had slipped into yours so naturally that morning replayed in your mind at the oddest times: during practice serves, mid-flight naps creeping into your peaceful dreams, even while unpacking yet another suitcase in yet another hotel room. It wasnât like you wanted to be distracted, but Ben was everywhere, his presence stamped into your routine as if heâd always been part of it. And it seemed as though he had no intention of loosening that grip he had on your mind. Calls and messages were frequent as days blurred into one another, conversations that felt simultaneously too much and not nearly enough. Ones that'd have you squealing in bed as you reread over the texts or have you clutching your phone tight minutes after hanging up, savouring the small moments. The banter was still there, as effortless as it was grounding, but now it came with an undercurrent you couldnât name, something unspoken threading its way through the pauses between your words. Ben became a comforting constant amid the chaos. He was always just a call or a text away, his presence a steady anchor even when everything else felt transient. And while you were grateful for the familiarity, it didnât stop the butterflies that erupted every time his name lit up your phone.
Like tonight.
After a gruelling match and a hurried dinner that barely counted as a meal, you finally collapsed onto the hotel bed. The quiet of the room felt foreign after the noise of the day, but it was a relief until your phone buzzed on the nightstand. The call started with Benâs face filling the screen, eyebrows raised and a smirk already in place.
âHey, stranger,â he smiled in a sing-song tone.
âOh, spare me,â you said, rolling your eyes but smiling despite yourself.
" 'Spare me?' â Ben scoffed, kicking back and grinning at the screen. âGirl, youâre acting like youâre the only one with a rough schedule. Whatâve you been up to? Post-match feast, or just a sad granola bar?â
You laughed, shaking your head. âNeither. Quick and quiet dinner after the match, some bland pasta with a wilted salad, the usual. Real glamorous stuff.You already back to your hotel?â
âHours ago,â he said. âCaught the highlights of your match, though. That backhand winner down the line? Chefâs kiss.â He mimed a dramatic kiss to the camera. âYouâre out here stealing the show.â
âPlease,â you said, rolling your eyes, and shrugging. âIt wasnât even my best match. Iâll take a win, though.â
âDonât be modest,â Ben teased. âMeanwhile, my highlights reel was probably just me sweating buckets with my shirt clinging to me and yelling after missing a forehand.â
You smirked. âNah, youâre too busy being âAmericaâs tennis heartthrob.â Iâm sure your fangirls donât even notice the double faults.â
Ben groaned, throwing his head back. âNot this again.â
âOh, come on,â you grinned, teasing him. âTall, built, All-American golden boy? Iâm shocked they havenât made you into a wax figure yet! ATP should get on that, the more I think about it.â
He leaned forward, raising an eyebrow. âIs the golden boy charm working on you?â
You blinked, caught off guard, furrowing your brows. âWhat..? No. Shut up!â
Ben chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. âHey, I was just checking. You're the one who brought it up.â
âYeah, wellâŚâ you said, flustered, fumbling for a comeback. âI mean, I guess itâs a little funny. The way theyâre all obsessed with you, I mean.â
He smirked. âSmooth save.â
âWhatever,â you muttered, looking away. âAt least youâre not lonely on tour. Youâve got Bryan. Built-in travel buddy.â
Ben scrunched his face up. âOh yeah, great idea! Let me just grab dinner with my dad after a match so he can spend two hours lecturing me about footwork and his âgood olâ days.â â
You laughed, before breaking into a pout. âPoor, poor Bryan. He just wants to hang out with his son, and youâre out here running from him.â
âIâm not running,â Ben said defensively. âIâmâŚum, strategically avoiding.â
âSure you are.â
âAnd anyway, no one hereâs like you,â he added, his tone casual but his gaze steady.
That caught you off guard. âYeah-w-what?â
Benâs smirk deepened. âDonât choke now. Whereâs that quick wit of yours?â
âShut it,â you groaned, your face heating up as you pressed your face into the mattress.
âAw, youâre blushing,â he teased, leaning closer to the camera. âCat really got your tongue this time, huh?â
âBen, I swear to God,â you said, groaning and burying your face in your hands and dropping the phone.
He laughed, clearly triumphant. âItâs okay, youâll get me back at the charity doubles event in a few months. Iâm counting on you to carry me.â
âCarry you?â you said, grateful for the change in topic. âI thought you were the unstoppable Ben Shelton. 'Big serves, big shots.â "
âYeah, yeah, but doubles is different,â he said with a shrug. âDoubles is all about teamwork. Iâll take your instructions. Like Federer and Mirka, except, yâknow, cooler.â
You laughed. âCooler? Thatâs a bold claim.â
âWhy not?â he said, spreading his arms wide. âTheyâre classy, theyâre unstoppable, and they look good doing it. Thatâs us, right? Total power couple energy.â
âPower couple?â you echoed, raising an eyebrow.
âOn the court,â he clarified with a wink. âDonât worry, Iâll keep it professional.â
âYouâd better,â you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldnât stop yourself from smiling.
As the call ended and the screen faded to black, you lingered in the quiet of your room, your pulse still racing in the aftermath of his teasing grin. Your fingers traced the necklace at your throat, the metal cool under your touch, but the memory it carried, the warmth of his hands, the way his eyes had softened when he fastened it, made your chest feel full and tight all at once.
You had to admit, Ben Shelton was infuriatingly good at leaving you in this liminal space, caught somewhere between wanting to roll your eyes and wanting to let yourself fall completely into whatever this was becoming.
With a sigh, you pushed yourself off the bed and rifled through your suitcase, finding his hoodie tucked neatly inside. It was a lifeline, an anchor to him when the distance felt like too much. The fabric was soft against your cheek as you hugged it to your chest, his scent faint but unmistakable, as if he were still there, filling the room with his easy laughter and ridiculous charm. It was almost maddening how easily he got under your skin, how his words lingered long after the call had ended, tangling themselves with your thoughts and leaving you guessing.
Was he just being Ben? The not-knowing was intoxicating in its own way, a thrill and torment that made your stomach flutter and your mind race long into the night until you could fall asleep, and even then, he graced your dreams with his warmth that you could never get enough of.
For Ben, the feelings werenât any simpler. He leaned back against his hotel bed, the phone still warm in his hand, the smile heâd worn during the call refusing to fade. You always had this way of leaving him grinning like an idiot, proud of his one-liners that caught you off guard but tonight felt different. He loved catching you off guard, how youâd try to fire back some clever retort only to stammer and fall silent, just like the first time he met you. It wasnât just funny to him; it was endearing, that quiet vulnerability you didnât even seem to notice. And God, you were beautiful, even in that post-match haze, hair damp and face free of makeup, exhaustion softening your edges in a way that only made you look more real, more you. He wished he could've seen you in person; he could stare at you like that for hours and still turn back for a second glimpse, never getting enough.
He sighed, rolling onto his side as his fingers hovered over a photo on his camera roll, the one where you werenât looking, too focused on a menu, brow furrowed like the decision was life or death, another one of you in his car, casually on your phone, followed by another photo and another. He couldnât help it; his chest tightened at the memory of moments like that, the way you made the chaos of his life feel lighter. Then there were the little things: the protein bar with your teasing note that you threw in his bag during a practice one time, or the way you seemed to know exactly when to check in when you could read how he honestly was.
It scared him sometimes, how easily you crept into his thoughts, how much he wanted to be the reason you smiled the way you had tonight. And yet, even as the thought tightened in his chest, Ben smiled again, already counting down the days until heâd see you at the charity event, knowing it just couldn't come sooner.
The atmosphere at the event was electric, a blend of effortless fun and star-studded tennis. Neon lights pulsed along the edges of the court, casting playful shadows on the buzzing crowd as a DJ spun upbeat tracks that thrummed in your chest and made the ground pulse. It was far from a serious tournament, more like a party on a tennis court, where fans and players mingled, indulging in casual games and champagne-laced banter.
You smoothed down your navy skirt, the silky white bow in your hair fluttering lightly as you stepped into the tunnel, the buzz of conversation growing louder. A little blush, a sweep of mascara, and a touch of concealer made you look radiant but understated; the only jewellery you wore was the rose-gold necklace Ben had gotten you, gleaming softly against your collarbones under the venueâs lights.
âReady to dazzle?â another player teased as she passed by, her racket slung lazily over her shoulder. You shot her a grin, zipping up your bag as you mentally prepared for the night ahead. But before you could take another step with your bag now slung over your arm, a hand wrapped gently around your wrist, tugging you back into the shadowed corner of the tunnel.
You turned quickly, your startled expression melting into a mixture of exasperation and amusement when you saw Ben. He was leaning against the wall, grinning like heâd been waiting for this exact moment.
âSubtle as always,â you teased, arching a brow, even as your chest tightened slightly at the sight of him. It had been months, and somehow, he looked the same but different, more confident, more composed, yet just as unmistakably Ben.
He tilted his head, his grin spreading slowly. âWhat can I say? I like to make an entrance.â
âBy sneaking up on me?â you quipped, folding your arms but unable to stop the small smile tugging at your lips.
âBetter than yelling, donât you think?â He pushed off the wall, stepping closer, his presence filling the space between you. For a moment, the noise of the crowd outside felt distant, the thrum of music fading into the background.
He let his eyes roam, taking in the bow in your hair and the soft gleam of the necklace heâd picked out weeks ago. âYou lookâŚâ He trailed off, his voice softer now, tinged with something he wasnât saying. âI mean, wow.â
You felt your cheeks flush, the warmth crawling up your neck as you shifted on your feet. âDonât start, Shelton,â you muttered, though your voice lacked any conviction.
âWhat? Itâs a compliment.â His tone dipped, quiet but teasing, as he leaned just enough for you to catch the faint scent of his cologne. âGuess I forgot how good you clean up...y'know while still bein' all proper.â
You tried for a quick, witty comeback, but the words stumbled and caught in your throat when his eyes met yours again, warm and intent. It was like he saw through the polished image youâd carefully put together for tonight, straight to the version of you he knew best: messy hair, sweat-soaked, exhausted after a match.
âBen...â you started, voice faltering as he smiled.
âMissed this,â he murmured, stepping even closer as he studied your face, his gaze lingering on your lips. âMissed you.â
The simplicity of it hit harder than you expected, your breath catching as he pulled you into a tight hug without hesitation. His arms wrapped around you with a sure, steady strength that made your chest ache, one hand splayed against your upper back, the other resting lightly at your waist, rubbing up and down with his thumb. Your cheek pressed into his shoulder as you let yourself lean in, your arms slipping around him.
You had to stand on your tiptoes to reach him properly, your nose brushing the soft skin of his neck. He smelled faintly of cologne and something clean, and when he bent slightly to press his face against your hair, the warmth of his breath sent a shiver down your spine.
Neither of you said anything at first; the hug lingered just long enough to toe the line between friendly and something more.
âAlright, lovebirds,â a voice called from behind, breaking the moment. You glanced over to see Tommy Paul strolling by with a smirk, holding a tennis racket slung over one shoulder. âSave it for the courts.â
You pulled back quickly, a small laugh spilling out despite yourself. Ben groaned, scrubbing a hand over his face. âIgnore him,â he muttered, his other hand still resting lightly on your waist.
You shook your head, biting back a smile as you looked up at him. âGuess I shouldâve known youâd bring your fan club with you.â
Ben chuckled, his thumb brushing against your side before he let his hand drop. âTheyâre just jealous,â he teased. Then, his grin turned sharper, more mischievous. âBesides, youâre Mirka tonight, remember? That makes me Federer.â
You rolled your eyes, already turning back toward the tunnelâs exit. âThen letâs hope youâre half as good on the court as he is.â
His laugh followed you, rich and unbothered. âCareful, Mirka, I might just have to prove it to you out there.â
You smirked, stepping forward toward the light of the court. âRight. I'll see you out there, Federer.â
Ben chuckled low behind you, the sound carrying as he followed. âBetter bring your A-game, Mirka.â
You both stepped into the event space, the pulse of music and hum of voices a vibrant backdrop. A waiter with a tray of champagne flutes passed by, and Ben grabbed two, handing you one. âFor courage?â he teased, raising a brow.
âOr patience,â you countered with a cheeky smile, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip. The bubbles tickled your throat, a pleasant warmth settling in your chest.
The two of you drifted toward the edge of the court, lingering for a moment to take in the scene. Fans were scattered around, some waving excitedly as they noticed you both, others engrossed in their own games. The energy in the air was contagious.
âYou nervous?â Ben asked, glancing down at you, his shoulder brushing yours as he leaned closer.
You scoffed lightly, tilting your head toward him. âPfft, not even a little. You?â
âOnly about carrying you,â he shot back with a teasing grin.
You laughed, a genuine, carefree sound that had him grinning even wider. âBig talk for someone who hasnât even warmed up yet.â
âOh, donât worry,â he said, taking a sip from his glass, his eyes never leaving yours. âTrust, Iâm plenty warm now.â
The look he gave you was so direct, so warm, it sent a shiver down your spine. For a second, you almost forgot where you were, his gaze holding you in place. Then, with a soft laugh, you shook your head. âCareful, Shelton. I might start to think youâre flirting with me.â
âAnd if I am?â he replied, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.
You didnât answer, the sudden heat in your cheeks making you glance away. But Ben stepped closer, his voice dropping just enough to make your pulse quicken. âYouâre kinda cute when youâre quiet, you know that?â
âIâm not quiet,â you retorted, though the slight stumble in your voice only made his grin deepen.
He shook his head before he got pulled into some conversation, the night stretching out with laughs. It wasn't long before it was your turn on the courts with Ben for mixed doubles with fans. The game was as lighthearted as the crowdâs energy, every point a mix of banter, champagne-fueled laughter, and effortless coordination between you and Ben. You didnât know if it was the bubbly coursing through your veins or just the sheer ease of being around him, but the nerves that usually gripped you on a court had dissolved into something bolder, something exhilarating.
âHey! Didnât know you could slice like that,â Ben teased, coming up beside you after you returned a tricky serve with a clean, low shot. His grin was wide, boyish, and entirely too charming.
âDidnât know you cared enough to notice,â you quipped back, tossing him a look over your shoulder.
His laugh was low, his eyes sparkling under the court lights. âOh, I notice. Donât worry about that.â
You rolled your eyes, but your smile gave you away as he moved to stand closer, his shoulder brushing yours. A fan on the opposite side sent the ball flying long, and you let out a small cheer, reaching up for a high five. His palm smacked yours, but instead of letting go, his fingers lingered, curling slightly against yours to hold your hand in his big one as he leaned down just enough for only you to hear.
âCareful now,â he murmured, his voice dipping, his thumb grazing your palm. âDonât make me think I need to keep you around full-time.â
Your stomach flipped, and you blinked up at him, thrown off by the sudden softness in his tone. âKeep up the compliments, Shelton, and I might start thinking youâre sweet.â
âI can be sweet,â he said, his grin turning a little cocky as he finally released your hand. âBut only when youâre around.â
You were saved from having to respond by the start of the next point, though your heart was far too distracted to focus properly. Ben, however, didnât seem fazed, his energy casual and relaxed as he sent a gentle lob to the next fan on the rotation. Between rallies, he wandered back to your side of the court, resting his hand briefly on the small of your back, rubbing it softly. The touch was fleeting, but it left a trail of warmth in its wake.
As you finished another easy point, Ben jogged toward you. âSo, is this your strategy? Win them over with that slice and then charm me into doing all the work?â
You laughed, spinning your racket in your hand. âOh, puh-lease. Iâm doing most of the carrying here, Ben. Admit it, youâd be lost without me.â
âLost? Nah.â He stepped closer, his voice dropping just a fraction. âDistracted? Definitely.â
Your breath caught, the weight of his gaze lingering longer than it should have. But before you could respond, another cheer from the crowd broke the moment. He stepped back, grinning as though he hadnât just thrown your heart into overdrive.
By the end of the set, the champagne had smoothed the edges of your usual reserve, and the energy between you both crackled with something unspoken but undeniable. When you reached for another high-five after the final point, he caught your hand and tugged gently, pulling you just a step closer this time.
âWe got a nice win,â he murmured, his eyes flicking down to yours.
âMhm, and I got a nice partner,â you replied, the words falling out before you could think better of them.
His grin softened, his hand brushing lightly against your lower back again. âCareful. I might start thinking youâre trying to charm me.â
âAnd if I am?â you shot back, your eyes coy and big as your newfound confidence was fueled by the buzz in your veins and the way he was looking at you as if no one else in the world mattered.
Benâs laughter was warm and rich, a blush spreading across his cheeks that wasn't just from the game. The way his eyes stayed locked on yours said everything. âThen Iâd say itâs working.â
As the event wound down, you and Ben exchanged a few last high-fives with the fans. The laughter and excitement of the crowd hung in the air, but as the noise began to settle, there was a familiar, charged silence between you two. The playful teasing, the flirty glances, it was all still there, but now it had a weight to it as if the evening had somehow shifted to a different gear.
Ben caught up to you as you started to make your way toward the exit, his smile flashing as he fell into step beside you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, voice low and teasing. "Pizza? Just us? The rest are going to a restaurant downtown, but I thought we could hang out n' catch up."
You raised an eyebrow, the suggestion making your heart skip a beat. There was something about the idea of more time with him, just the two of you, that sent a rush through your chest. âPizza?â you repeated, the buzz from the champagne still swirling inside you, but now mixing with a touch of curiosity. âAfter all that, you want to drag me to some random pizza joint?â
Ben grinned, his eyes full of mischief. "It's not random. Itâs a little hidden gem, just a few blocks away. Trust me, it's worth it. You wonât find better pizza around here, Ben approved.â
You glanced at him, your internal struggle between teasing him and playing it cool warring inside you. There was something in the way he said it, an undeniable charm in his voice that made you want to go. The idea of quiet, easy conversation with him, without the crowd, the friends and the noise, felt too good to pass up.
"Alright, fine," you said, rolling your eyes but giving in. "But if this place turns out to be some dive with soggy crust, Iâm blaming you.â
Ben laughed, his grin widening. âDeal. Youâll love it, though. I wouldnât steer you wrong.â
The two of you began walking down the street, and the air between you seemed to settle into something new, something more intimate. The world around you felt quieter now, each step taking you farther from the noise of the event and closer to something more personal. With every step, the liquid courage from the champagne seemed to melt away, leaving behind a fluttery, almost nervous feeling in your chest. Maybe it was the lingering heat from the flirting, or maybe it was just that you were walking with him, alone.
âSo,â you asked, trying to keep it light, but your curiosity bubbled through, âhow many people do you drag to these random pizza spots, Ben?â
He chuckled at that, his eyes flicking over to you for a brief moment, amused. âHonestly? Not many. Youâre the first one, I think.â
You raised an eyebrow, surprised. âReally? Iâm the first person youâve brought here?â
Ben shrugged casually, his grin widening with the playfulness that was so typical of him. âI donât usually do this kind of thing. But when I find a place this good, I kinda want to share it with someone who'd 'ppreciate it, someone who's... worth it.â
His words hung in the air, and for a split second, everything between you seemed to be still. You could feel the warmth in your chest, the closeness between you suddenly feeling charged. You fought the urge to let it show, instead meeting his gaze with a playful grin.
âWell, lucky me, huh?â
âLucky you,â Ben echoed, and his voice softened just enough that you noticed. He turned slightly toward you, his pace matching yours, steady and relaxed.
By the time you reached the pizza place, the small talk had faded into a comfortable silence, both of you still trying to make sense of whatever was happening between you. You hadnât crossed any line yet, but with every moment, it felt more inevitable that something was to change. As you walked inside the tiny pizzeria, the smell of fresh baked goods hit you immediately. The cozy, intimate atmosphere felt like a world away from the high-energy chaos of the event. Ben led you to the counter, and even though the tension between you was still palpable, it had shifted. It was no longer the playful, teasing kind of tension, it was something else. Something unspoken, but undeniable.
You had no idea where this was heading, but with Ben by your side, you were curious to find out.
You walk back toward the venue, the buzz of the event now a distant memory, stomachs full from the pizza that somehow tasted better than it had any right to. The tiny pizzeria, tucked away in a quiet corner, had been the perfect escape. The laughter that had flowed freely while you ate had washed away the tension and the drunken buzz that had clung to you both all night. It had been easy, lighthearted, comfortable, like nothing had changed, even though everything had.
As the two of you strolled back under the glow of the streetlights, a comfortable silence settled between you. The air was cool, a light breeze weaving through the night. The only sound was the rhythm of your shoes on the pavement. Yet, inside, you both felt the weight of what hadnât been said.
Benâs hands were stuffed in his pockets as he kept pace with you, his easy stride matching yours. But something had shifted in him, his smile softer, his eyes more attentive as he glanced at you. âYou look really good tonight, you know that?â
You laughed lightly, rolling your eyes as you shook your head. âBen, you keep saying that,â you teased, âWhatâs the deal with you tonight? You want something?â
He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners, genuine and unguarded. âNah, I'm just sayin' 'cause itâs true,â he said, a slight shrug of his shoulders. âI donât say things I donât mean.â
Your stomach fluttered, the compliment hitting you harder than you expected. Youâd heard him say things like that before, but tonight? There was something different in the way he said it. Something quieter, more sincere.
âOkay, okay,â you said with a grin, trying to mask the effect his words had on you. âI get it, I look good. Thank you.â You laughed at yourself, but Benâs gaze never wavered from you.
Ben chuckled, his tone light but steady. âI mean it,â he repeated softly, then added, âAnd that necklace we got... Itâs perfect for you, made for you. Looks really good on you.â
You touched the pendant on the necklace, the one he had picked out for you earlier, and it felt foreign now. Warmer, more meaningful, like it was holding a piece of the night with it. âI think youâre just saying that to flatter me,â you teased.
âIâm not,â he said seriously, his voice dropping slightly. âYou really do look good. I mean youâve always looked good, but tonight... I dunno, itâs sumn' else.â
You caught the sincerity in his words, and your heart thumped a little harder. Ben, usually the jokester, was being serious now. âWell,â you said, your voice almost breathless, âThank you. Iâll take it.â
He smiled, a playful glint in his eyes still there, but it was softer. âOf course.â
There was a long pause as you walked side by side. The cityâs lights flickered around you, the hum of the night settling into a comfortable silence. But then, something shifted. You couldnât keep it in any longer.
âSo, BenâŚâ you started, your voice tentative. âAre you like this with every girl you meet?â
His stride faltered for just a second, and he turned to look at you, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. âWhat do you mean, like âthisâ?â
âFlirty,â you let out a breath at your boldness, a teasing edge in your voice. âLike making everyone feel like theyâre the only one. Are you always so... charming?â You paused, gathering your courage. âYou do this with every girl?â
Ben stopped walking, his hands sliding out of his pockets as he processed your words. He tilted his head, studying your face before shaking his head.
âWhat girl do I have around me or talk to, besides you, Emma and my mom?â His voice was calm, but there was an honesty in it that made your chest tighten. âYouâre the only girl I ever talk to like this, spend time with. So no, not every girl.â
You blinked, surprised. âWait, really?â
âYeah, really.â He looked at you like you were asking the most obvious question. âYou think Iâm like this with every girl I meet? I only talk to you like this.â
That honesty hit you harder than you expected, your breath catching. You hadnât realized how much youâd assumed about him until now. His words made your heart race.
You glanced up at him, trying to make sense of it all. But his expression said everything you needed to know.
âYeah, duh, c'mon, Y/Nâ he grinned, a sincere, slightly confused smile spreading across his face. âWhat makes you think Iâd mess around like that? Itâs only you.â
You stopped walking, your mind racing as his words sank in. âWait,â you said, a disbelieving smile spreading across your face, though your brow furrowed. âYouâre telling me, you donât talk to anyone else like this? You donât hang out with other girls?â
Ben chuckled softly, his hands back in his pockets, but his eyes serious as he looked at you. âNah, youâre the only one I ask to hang with. Youâre the only one I text first when Iâm on tour. Youâre the one I call to mess around with.â He smiled like he was telling you the simplest truth in the world. âSo yeah, itâs just you.â
You swallowed thickly, your heart pounding in your chest. Every word Ben had said felt like it was pulling you under, a current that you could no longer fight. You hadnât realised how much you needed to hear him say those things until the weight of them hit you, until his words finally opened the floodgates in your chest, making your heart pound. Could it be that he valued you just as much as you did him? You let out a slow breath, the air feeling heavier now like you were standing on the edge of something monumental.
âBenâŚâ you whispered as you halted in your tracks, your voice unsteady but determined, a sigh escaping your lips.
It didnât make sense. Youâd always assumed Ben had people around him, always figured he was surrounded by fans or other girls, but hearing him say that you were the one, the only one, hit you in a way you hadnât expected. You opened your mouth to try to verbalise the swirling thoughts in your head, but the words stuck, so instead, you let the silence sit between you. Then, Ben took a slow step closer, his tone shifting from casual to something more serious.
âCan I be honest with you?â His voice was lower now, the playful edge that usually made everything feel light gone.
You nodded before you could even stop yourself, feeling your heartbeat thud in your chest. There was no going back now, not with the way he looked at you.
He took a deep breath before he began, looking down the street before turning to face you.
âI like you,â he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. âLike, I really like you.â His gaze held yours, unwavering. âI know itâs probably not the best time to say it with everything going on, with our tours and us barely seeinâ each other, but I canât just let this hang on. I canât just let it pass and regret not saying somethinâ later. Iâm not that dumb.â
He exhaled like he was trying to shake off the weight of what he had just confessed, looking at you like he was unsure whether you would run or stay.
âYouâve got this way of, like... pullinâ me in, yâknow? I donât even know what to do with myself most of the time. I try to act like it's all cool like Iâm just messin' around, but I canât stop thinkin' about you, ever. And I never thought Iâd be the kind of guy who gets wrapped up in somethin' like this. But here I am.â
You blinked, not sure if your heart was beating too fast or too slow. His confession hung in the air, heavier than anything either of you had said before. It was raw, and it made your chest tighten.
âI know we got months apart, and I know you probably think Iâm crazy for sayinâ this now, but I had to say it.â He took a deep breath, his voice barely above a whisper. âItâs just... Itâs just you.â
You stood still for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. The weight of his confession settled over you, his words still hanging in the air, thick with meaning. Your heart raced, and you could feel your pulse at your fingertips as you tried to process everything he had just shared. Ben took another step closer, inches away from you, his eyes never leaving yours. There was an intensity in his gaze that made everything feel surreal like you were the only two people in the world. His voice softened as he spoke again, this time with more emotion than before, his words raw and unguarded.
âYou know,â he started, his drawl even more pronounced now, âever since we first met, I wanted to be in your circle. I wanted to be around you, be close to you. But when I saw you with that necklace, and my hoodie, laughinâ and lookinâ up at me like that, God, Y/N, swear I could feel my heart meltinâ right then. I donât even know how to explain it. It just felt like... I dunno, like everything clicked.â He paused, his breath catching as if he was just now realizing how much those little moments had meant to him.
âAnd when you told me about your ex, Jesus, I wanted to-â He cut himself off, a flash of anger flickering in his eyes, but he quickly controlled it. âI wanted to kill that son of a-â He stopped himself again, shaking his head as if shaking off the anger.
âNot that it matters. But what matters is that I want to show you what real love is. What real care feels like. What a real manâs like, yâknow?â His voice dropped even lower, barely above a whisper. âWhat you deserve, and then some.â
He leaned in slightly, his hand instinctively reaching for yours, fingers brushing lightly, but lingering longer than necessary.
âHell, if you gave me a chance, even, just, like, 20 minutes?â He let out a breath, a slight chuckle escaping his lips, but there was no humour behind it, only sincerity. âIâd give you the world, and more, in that short time. Until you told me enough. But I need you to know that... itâs real. Itâs all real, Y/N. I wouldnât say it if it wasnât.â
You stood frozen, your mouth slightly parted, trying to catch your breath. His words hit you like a wave, each sentence making your heart race faster, your chest tightening as the weight of everything he said settled into your bones. You couldnât speak for a second, lost in the gravity of what he had just revealed. The vulnerability, the truth in his eyes, the way his words laid bare a side of him you hadnât seen before, it was all too much, and yet everything you hadnât realized you wanted.
A sigh escaped your lips as the words came tumbling out of you.
âYou have no idea what you do to me.â You shook your head, a soft laugh escaping you, but it was one of relief, one of release. âYou drive me insane, Ben. Every time youâre around, every time you look at me like that, like Iâm the only one in the room, it makes me feel things Iâm not sure I know how to handle. I canât even explain it to myself, let alone to you. Itâs like Iâm constantly trying to push it down, but every time you smile, or, God, when you do that thing with your eyes when you look at me like youâre the only one who really sees meâŚâ You trailed off, the words too big to say all at once. You exhaled, shaking your head, but the relief was already washing over you. âIâve never felt like this before. Not even close.â
Ben was quiet for a moment, his gaze softening as he listened. You could see the understanding in his eyes, the way he was holding back, yet completely tuned in to every word. It was different now. You felt his grip on your fingers tighten just slightly as if grounding both of you at this moment, a silent assurance that you werenât alone in this confession.
âY/N,â he said, his voice low and gentle. âYou donât have to hold back with me.â He stepped closer, his other hand lifting to gently cradle your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a slow, deliberate motion that made your breath hitch. âIâve felt it too. All of it. Every damn time Iâm with you, I canât stop thinkinâ about how much I want this. Want you.â
Before you could respond, before you could even process the depth of his words, Ben pulled you in, unable to hold back anymore. His lips found yours with a sudden, overwhelming intensity that took the air from your lungs. His kiss was deep, full of everything that had been unspoken between you two for so long, full of everything you needed and more. His hand at the back of your neck held you steady as his other arm wrapped around you, pulling you flush against him, the warmth of his body sending a wave of heat through you.
The late night wrapped around you like a blanket, the streetlights casting soft pools of light across the footpath, but it was the brick wall behind you that grounded you. Your back pressed against it, your hands instinctively finding his shirt, tugging him closer as if you couldnât get enough. You felt his heartbeat against yours, steady and strong, in sync with the way your pulse quickened in response to him. Benâs lips moved against yours with a kind of desperate gentleness, his kiss unhurried but passionate and purposeful, as if he was trying to pour everything he hadnât said into this single moment. The world felt far away, all that existed was him and you, the weight of his confession still settling in the space between you, the understanding, the desire.
When he finally pulled back, it was only enough for your lips to part, breaths mingling between you, your chest rising and falling as if you had just run a marathon. His forehead rested against yours, and his hands slid from your face to the small of your back, holding you steady as you both tried to catch your breath.
You were still tangled up in the magic of his kiss, in the rawness of this moment, where everything finally made sense. The world seemed to slow down as you both stood there, foreheads pressed together. The air between you was thick with something unspoken, your breaths were still heavy, your heart racing, but there was also a quiet sense of relief as if youâd both been holding your breath for the longest time.
Ben leaned in slightly, his smile playful yet soft, his gaze locking with yours as the quiet of the night settled around you. "You know," he said, his voice low and teasing, "for the first time, youâve got me completely speechless."
You couldnât help but giggle at the silliness of it all, the way he always knew just how to make you laugh, how to make everything feel lighter. The sound of your laugh made his gummy smile widen, and before he could say anything else, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips, your heart racing in a way that had nothing to do with the night or the streetlights around you. It was just him.
Everything felt right at that moment, the electricity in the air, the warmth of his touch, and the way he made you feel like you were the only person in the world. Maybe you and Ben didn't make much sense together to everyone else, but to the two of you, it was clear as day.
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There Is Beauty In The Pain
Chapter 6 Part 2
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Sophie:
I brushed my teeth, placing my brush in the holder once finished and turned out the bathroom light. Climbing into bed, I sat for a moment, thinking about the day and all that had happened. I was still in a whirlwind of emotions about it, feeling like it was a first time thing, even though it certainly wasnât.
Noahâs hands on me, exploring places only one other man had ever gone, was the last thing I ever expected, especially after the fight we had the other day.
To start with, Perryâs texts came out of nowhere, blindsiding me to the point that it made me panic. It had been almost three months since Iâd last seen him, since those last horrible, fucked-up texts and video (which were still on my phone), were sent to me.
Iâd blocked his number, but he must have gotten another number, because that morning, a text came through that said âI miss you and Iâm sorryâ from a random number I didnât recognize, automatically thinking they had the wrong number.
I wrote back and said such, but another text came through quickly that read:
âNo, I donât. But I have yours memorized, Baby.â
I knew then I was screwed. The conversation with Perry was brief, but the things he told me were different than the other times before. Even his tone sounded different. I wanted to believe him, but after the night before with Noah, I just couldnât.
I told Perry to go away and leave me alone, instantly blocking the number, but keeping the texts just in case. And then it happened. No matter how hard I tried, I couldnât control the corrupted thoughts running through my head, and that morning, Noah could tell how wrecked I was. He thought it was his fault and it crushed me that he felt that way.Â
I just couldnât explain it the right way to him, yet, because none of it made sense in my head yet. Then I made the mistake of calling him Perry, and man, that made things go south real fast.
I stayed to myself for a few days, eventually opening the prison gates in mind and allowing myself some freedom. Noah was there, waiting for me with a smile, a hug, and an apology which I accepted gratefully, ready to put the past behind me and move on.Â
The moment Noah touched me for the first time, my skin screamed. It wasnât enough to just have his hands on me. I wanted him in me, molding me to him and allowing him to evade every single crack, corner and crevice of my body. And he did; mostly.
His finger inside me was something I never thought would be so addictive. He knew what he was doing when he twisted or hooked, or inserted another finger, almost filling me.
The way he softly yet confidently circled my clit, making me say things Iâd never said before because I was never allowed to speak during sex with Perry. He said it broke his concentration, when really, now I knew he was probably thinking about somebody else.Â
Then came the moment when Noah went fully down on me, holding nothing back as he licked, sucked, and kissed my center like it had always belonged to him. In reality I guess it did because Perry, never once, did even a quarter of what Noah was doing. Even though I was forced to pleasure him and make him happy and content, Perry said that sort of thing wasnât for him.Â
Noah brought me to such an unreal climax, that the way I came for him was out of this world. It gave me such a high, I was literally seeing stars, even making him cum in his jeans.Â
All of these little things Noah did to me earlier in the day attached themselves to my memory, refusing to forget any detail. They would stay there forever, buried deep in a secret place. But the best part of it all was how Noah made my heart feel through it all.
He was sweet and gentle and made me feel completely worthy of everything he did to and for me
I had never experienced an orgasm like that, nor being praised and worshiped in the way Noah had. The entire experience was euphoric, almost ethereal, and I hoped it wasnât just a one time thing.Â
The subtle knock on the door brought me out from reminiscing and it opened slowly. Noah stood in the entrance, looking so fucking delicious that I had to squeeze my legs together, trying to suppress the strong sensual, wet feeling cascading between them. I knew Noah noticed because of the way he smiled at me.
âI just came to check on you and see if you were okay?â
âWell, that was sweet of you,â I answered, patting the spot next to me on the bed. Noahâs eyes met mine as he made his way over to the bed, dropping on the mattress next to me.Â
âYeah, Iâm okay,â I replied.
I wasnât oblivious to the way Noahâs eyes raked over me. I was in my sleepy pants and a tank top and didnât have the chance to grab my hoodie before he walked in. I was chilly, goosebumps spreading over my skin for proof and making my nipples harden. Noahâs eyes lingered on my breasts a little longer than I think he meant to because when he looked up at me, a slight reddish hue graced his cheeks. Â
I reached out and caressed his cheek, feeling the weight of his head leaning into my palm. He looked at me again, this time a little sleepier.Â
Noah had a face that could fit anywhere. Sometimes he was hot as hell, other times cute. Right now, he was absolutely adorable, but then other times, Iâve seen him look so angry that it scared me. But I knew I was safe with him. I knew Noah would never, ever hurt me.Â
âSleepy?âÂ
He nodded slowly.Â
âDid Matt mention anything about earlier,â I asked, quietly. Noah shook his head, slipping his hand between my knees.
âI think he was too embarrassed to,â he chuckled, letting his hand slide down my thigh. Even through the light fabric of my pants I could feel the heaviness of his touch, sparking a sudden need inside me. I sighed, indulging myself in the feeling of Noahâs hands on me again.
Without taking my eyes off his, I lowered my legs and let them fall open, hearing the strangled groan leave his chest as I did so, proving he wanted me, just as much as I wanted him.
âRound two,â Noah smirked, leaning over and laying his lips on me, kissing me softly. I took his hands, lacing his long, tattooed fingers with ming. My mouth fell open with his, our tongues pressing together as Noah let go of my hands and wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting and pulling me into his lap, where he continued to kiss me. I bit back and swallowed the moans that were begging to escape. I didnât want to sound so needy and desperate.
Playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, I settled comfortably in Noahâs lap, unintentionally wiggling against the hard bulge pressed against my heated center.Â
It was Noah who moaned first, separating us for a moment to look at me.
âYouâre so fucking beautiful, Sophie,â he said with absoluteness. I knew he was telling the truth. I could see it in his eyes.Â
âYouâre pretty hot yourself,â I giggled, running my fingertips up and down his back, feeling his muscles relax beneath my touch.
âWhat are we doing?â he asked, his deep chocolate eyes searching mine.
âI donât know,â I answered, lowering my gaze.
Noah lifted my chin and kissed me again, slipping his hands under my tank top and placing them on the skin of my back. His hands felt like fire to my icy skin, making me shiver. I welcomed his touch, though. It melted away every unwanted touch from my past every time I felt it.Â
His fingertips danced along my spine as memories began to unfold, images that had my eyes filling with tears. I threw my arms around his neck and rested my cheek against his shoulder.
âAre you okay?âÂ
I nodded, unable to answer for fear heâd hear the tears in my voice.Â
âHey, look at me,â Noah said, pulling me away from him.
I Didn't.Â
âLook at me,â he repeated, tone calm.
But I couldn't. I didnât want him to see me feeling weak again.
His fingers were on my chin, lifting it to look at him. His eyes darted between mine and I could see the worry behind them.
âYou're safe,â Noah whispered, cupping my face in his large hands, eyes boring straight into me as if penetrating my soul.
âI promise.âÂ
That word. Promise. God how that word could break me. Â
He pulled me against him, wrapping his arms around me tightly.
âI'm sorry.â
âFor what?â
âFor not being easy,â I whimpered, wiping the loose tears that trickled down my cheeks
âWell, I don't want easy, I never asked for it. I just want you.âÂ
I started to shake my head, but Noah stopped me by grabbing my face.
âJust the way you are,â he said, confidently.Â
I stared into his eyes, waiting to see that same look I would see in Perryâs eyes when he would lie to me, but I didnât see it.Â
âReally?â
âReally,â Noah repeated, without missing a beat, running his thumbs over my lips. I frowned in confusion.
âEven the broken pieces?â
I wondered how that was even possible; to love someone, broken pieces and all.Â
Noah pecked my lips. âEspecially the broken pieces,â he winked.Â
My heart suddenly felt ten times lighter as my head hit his chest and I laid it against it, relishing the sound of his beating heart.
Folio:
I knew the risk of it happening. I knew it was possible. I just didnât think it would be so soon, so fast.Â
Sophie fell for him; Noah and all his charm. Of course she did. Why wouldn't she? After all, they shared a unique moment with each other and given everything that happened to her in the last month, Noah was the one her heart felt safe with. They weren't officially together, but all of us knew there was something there.Â
But there was an undeniable pull between me and her, one that came and went like a hot summer storm. Â
There were moments that were simple and mundane, our friendship blossoming into something I never knew I needed.Â
But then there were moments when the fever between us was so hot, so incredibly strong, that it felt like we could burn the world down around us.Â
I couldnât explain it. I knew Sophie felt something whenever we were together. I could always see it in her eyes, especially when we touched, but neither one of us ever said anything.
So, I kept all my feelings to myself because of how worried I was about losing her for good. If I confessed the way I felt there was a chance she'd be angry with me or worse I'd scare her away and that wasn't something I was willing to risk.Â
There were hints, though that spoke loudly; the way she would watch me so intently and her reaction when I played my drum kit, or the way she would cuddle up close to me on our random fishing adventures.Â
But my favorite was when I took her out on my bike a few times while Noah spent the morning with Ash at the gym. The warm California air rushed through us both, making the space between hot and sweaty as she clung to me tightly.Â
Sometimes she'd rest her head on my back and I would hold her arm pressed tightly around my waist. It was magical, being with Sophie that way. It always felt right and I often thought I'd maybe stand a chance.Â
But each time we got home and I watched her and Noah hug and greet each other, it felt like I'd been punched in the gut or worse, had my heart ripped out of my chest. I'd pretend I didn't notice, only to hide myself away in my room for a while, sometimes getting high or just stareing at the ceiling thinking about what it would be like if it was me she had fallen for instead of Noah.
The answer was always the same, too; I'd be the happiest man in the world.Â
Six Months Later
Noah:
The warm liquid seeped through my shorts, creating a large grayish stain to appear. Luckily, we were the only ones home, so I didnât risk the chance of getting shit from any of the guys before getting the chance to change.
âSee what you fucking do to me,â I smiled after Sophie pulled me in between her thighs, wrapping her legs around the back of mine.Â
Her arousal made me aroused and right after her orgasm hit her, mine came crashing into me before I could stop it.
Sophie held my face between her hands and kissed me, slipping her tongue into my mouth and pressing it to mine. The way she kissed me fully had me wrecked. My legs were still shaking.Â
She ran her hands through my hair, wrapping them behind my neck.
âI fucking love it when you do that,â I moaned, lowering my head to her shoulder.Â
âWhat, this?â running her hands through my hair, her nails raking against my scalp.Â
âYup. That.âÂ
Sophie chuckled.
I raised my head and looked over her face, taking in all the sweet little imperfections I noticed: a few small scars on her cheekbones and under her eyes, proof of all the hard months of physical abuse she lived through.
âSo beautiful,â I whispered to myself.
Sophie shook her head and instantly looked away, refusing to meet my eyes.
âHey, look at me,â slipping my finger under her chin and turning her face towards me.Â
âYou are,â I assured her. My lips formed a thin line and curved into a smile, but Sophie covered her face with her hands as if she was embarrassed. I pulled them away, and brought them to my chest instead, holding them there tightly.
âDon't you dare cover your face, especially not from me,â I scolded. âYou've spent too much of your life hiding that beautiful face because ofâŚâÂ
but I didn't finish my thought. I didn't want to say the assholeâs name that was responsible for all of Sophieâs trauma in the past. I didn't like bringing up the abuse either and all the shit he put her through.
âYeah, well, you know,â I huffed, I mumbled.
I bushed the loose hair out of Sophieâs face, forcing a smile. I was fighting hard against the urge of wanting to finally be inside her, filling her and worshiping her body the way it deserved to be.
But I was the one choosing to wait for sex. I wanted to give her more time to adjust to everything that was happening in her world and all around her and not feel forced or pressured just to satisfy me.Â
The soft touch of her fingers as they slid down my cheek when she touched me spoke louder than words. It was refreshing and I couldnât resist leaning into her touch.Â
I had so much to tell Sophie. Over the last nine and a half months, I'd learned everything about her, yet I hadnât been fully transparent with her.Â
I had secrets of my own that I wasn't sure I was capable of telling her, things about my past that still haunted me, but I knew I had to try. And soon.
"I'm ready Noah, I'm ready for you to have all of me.âÂ
Was she serious? My forehead creased and I knew Sophie could easily read the expression on my face.Â
âSophie, are you sure? Don't you think,â âI have been thinking, Noah! That's all I've been doing! I want you, Noah. I need you, now.â
She stared up at me with her doleful eyes, making me weaker by the second. âIâm through with waiting.âÂ
My hands ached to touch her, my arms to hold her. âAre you sure?â I whispered, sinking down closer to her lips. They were a mere inches apart from each other when she whispered back, âYes.âÂ
Fuck.
Our lips crash together in a cry of desperate eagerness. Sophie pulled me into her causing me to have to straddle her lap as my hands tangled around her face and then her hair. I wanted to devour her and suffocate beneath her kisses, consuming as much of her as I could. Her hands found my ass and I uttered a low grumble the moment I felt them attach to me, gripping and tugging on my shorts. Â
âFuck, Sophie,â I breathed, almost falling into her. âNoah, I want you,â she pleaded.
The way she whined, pulling part of my shorts down and running her hand over my skin had me buckling at the knees, weak as hell.
âSophie, baby,â I mumbled against her lips, dropping to my knees and cupping her face to kiss her better. I couldnât resist her intoxicatingly strong need for me anymore.Â
I didn't want to. I wanted to give her every part of me, including every dark and dirty secret I had buried deep inside my head.Â
âYou own me, baby. You fucking own me; body and soul,â I confessed to her, no longer caring how fast any of this was moving. She whimpered again, making my hard, throbbing cock twitch against the zipper of my shorts.
âAnd everyone is going to know it.â
Sophie stopped, pulling away to look at me.
âNoah, are you sure?â
I smiled at the way she seemed so worried about it. âIâm sure. Iâve never been more sure about anything before in my life.â
She threw herself back into my arms, clinging to me tightly.Â
âNoah, let's go upstairs, please,â she begged me, and my heart started pounding even harder than before. I pulled her to her feet, about to do just that, when my phone went off. The ringer was fucking loud, making both of us jump.Â
âMotherfucker,â I groaned, pulling it out of my pocket to see who it was.Â
âFucking Matt.â I ignored it, and slid it back into my pocket. âHe can wait,â I said, cupping Sophieâs face again, kissing her already bruised, wet lips. Picking her up bridal style, I head towards the staircase, just as my phone went off again.
âSeriously,â I growled in frustration. It was Matt again. Sophie sighed. âJust answer it. And go clean yourself up,â she laughed, pointing down at my shorts still stained with my release from earlier. âNo, I'm just going to ignore it again,â I stated, taking her hand, but she pulled away from me.Â
âDon't. He's just going to keep calling or worse show up. Just answer it. We'll have time for us later.âÂ
Sophie laid her hand gently on my arm, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me. I grumbled and answered the phone, knowing she was right.Â
âOkay, what? Someone better be dying Matt, I swear to god. You just interrupted the most significant moment in the history of me and Sophie.âÂ
âNoah.âÂ
The somber tone in Matt's voice made stop halfway up the stairs.Â
âMatt, whatâs wrong?âÂ
There was a brief pause.Â
âNoah, I've got some really fucked up news that you're not going to like. I only found out a little bit ago myself.â
I hadn't heard the kind of tone in Matt's voice since⌠fuck.â
âShe's back, isn't she,â I stated, pausing halfway up the stairs. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest and I felt like I might throw up. The world around me started to become a little bury as I carefully sat down on the step below me.Â
âYeah, she is, Noah. Sarah's back.
#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fanfiction#bad omens band#bad omens cult#bad omens#bad omens fanfiction
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Okay FINE I'll show you a more in depth example as to why I think using mama is hot
Kind of a long one but hear me out
One can only imagine a rough and tumble cowgirl, piercing eyes and a shot so fast you could've sworn she had six arms, revolvers in each hand. She only needs the one, though.
At some point in time she could have been called a hero, riding around and solving problems where she goes, until she fell off the face of the earth one day. Around the same time, a gang that she regularly scuffles with is growing exponentially. They took a whole town, and scared the cops into giving it to them.
There are rumors that the leader of the gang is a hypnotist, and reports of a new girl who carried the operation looking exactly like our cowgirl made people connect the dots. Obviously, the leader hypnotized our hero into doing this crimes! Right?
A cabin door closes with a creak as the cowgirl steps inside the hypnotists quarters. She looks tired, dusty, and spattered with blood. The hypnotist, dark and beautiful and still, beckons her cowgirl to come closer.
"You have done such a good job today dear, I'm very proud of you." Her voice is soft, but heavy, and it projects in a crowd like magic. She pats the space on the bed next to her. "Come, sit with me."
The cowgirl has an uneasy look on her face, she glances over at the hypnotist with a hint of suspicion. "I... don't want to. The innocent people you made me kill today, I could never..." She trailed off, her hand reaching up to cover her mouth.
The hypnotist clicked her tongue. "Still trying to play hero? Gosh, did my conditioning actually work, or are you just believing your own lies?"
"Wh- what do you mean by that..? What did you make me-" The cowgirl winced as she felt an ache in her forehead.
"Oh please, I don't want to hear any more nonsense about what I 'made you do'. What we agreed on was much more amicable for you than for me." Reaching into her bedside drawer, the hypnotist retrieves a piece of paper. "This is a contract you signed. You can check the writing all you want, I'm sure you'll find it's authentic."
Reluctantly, the cowgirl stomped over and snatched the paper out of the hypnotists hands. Her expression betrayed absolute horror; it was hers. It couldn't be, but it was. She read through each clause, easy to understand and short, but no wiggle room for a loophole she could see.
Not to mention, the clauses of this contract are weird, to say the least. It's kink negotiation. Safewords, rules on how far one can go during sex and impact play, and even a clause to only refer to the hypnotist as... No. No way in hell that's happening. But this last one here, that can't be true, she wouldn't have.
"I'm sorry to break it to you, my dear, butâ I haven't hypnotized you to do my bidding." She said, her voice oozing a tainted kind of compassion. "I hypnotized you to forget signing this, though. Besides, not like I could just brainwash you against your will, we had to find something that you would agree to, I was merely following your wishes. 'Course, you didn't specify if I could just tell you what you forgot. Great with a gun, but you're lacking in negotiation."
"Rrgh, don't loop me into this! You had to have tricked me or something, I wouldn't have agreed to that! It's your fault!" Lightning quick, she unholstered her gun, pointing it right between the hypnotists unbothered eyes.
"As quick a draw as ever, love. What's the use if you can't pull the trigger?"
"Heh, is that your plan? You hypnotized me to not be able to shoot you? I don't have to aim at you to take you out, y'know that right?"
"Did you see anything in the contract that said that? No, silly, but I'm certain that you won't hit me. I mean, you're done. Scott-free to stay with me, not like you can help it right? You're under the hypnotists spell." She said with a cute er- over the top spooky voice.
"Why would I ever want to stay with you. Monster."
"Ah, that's not the name we agreed on, is it?"
The cowgirl's disgusted frown would've almost seemed believable if she wasn't blushing. "I didn't agree to nothing! I would never call you th-that, never have never will."
"But you did, my dear." The hypnotist sounded exasperated. "Okay, I think it's just easier to remind you at this point. Heel."
Without a single thought, the cowgirl fell into a lewd, humiliating squat, spreading her legs as far as they can go, her arms pulled up to her chest in a 'begging' gesture. Like a dog at the edge of the bed. "...Huh?"
"Good girl." Her voice considerably softened, speaking in a simple singsongy tone. "When I snap my fingers, I will allow you to remember what we did last night."
"W-what? What do you me-"
Snap.
The cowgirl gasped, struggling to keep herself upright as a dormant part of her brain was unlocked. She remembers now.
The hypnotist straddling your lap, slamming her hips down onto you as her adorable cock leaks onto your stomach. She feels so fucking good, her tight ass milking every drop of cum in your body. You love her, oh god you love her. You've been going at it for what feels like hours, but you just can't get enough.
She starts to slow down and you can't help but whine at the loss of your 5th orgasm for the night, you want to grab her and fuck the daylights out of this little tease until you both pass out, but that's against the rules, isn't it? No moving, she said. It feels better if you just do as she says, and she's right. You try to beg her to speed up, but she leans down into a kiss and slows herself even more. You're in heaven, nothing can compare to her.
As the cowgirl's vision returns, she sees the hypnotist sitting at the edge of the bed, smiling. "Did that jog your memory?"
"Uhm, ah..." She tries to control her breathing, but the recently discovered memory and the prominent tent in her pants is making it difficult. Her face begins glowing red with blush as she shifts herself unwittingly, trying to get any friction against her growing member. "I d-don't know what you're- mmph~ talking about!"
The hypnotist laughs, but she doesn't sound disappointed, more like she finds it endearing. She extends a hand and rests it on her cowgirl's cheek. "Don't be like that dear, I can see you're fit to burst already, aren't you? Is your cock just aching to be back inside me again?"
Don't think about it, don't think about it, don't think about it. Finding a second wind within herself, the cowgirl glares at the hypnotist. "Go fuck yourself. I don't want nothing to do with you, so you can just let me go and I'll arrest you like I should have ages ago, okay Ma-" As soon as she let it slip, the cowgirl stopped herself, turning her head off to the side.
"Hm? Were you about to say something, pet?" The hypnotist cooed, her hand turning her cowgirl's face back to her before snaking further back to grab her hair lightly. She pulled, and her cowgirl followed, onto the nice, warm, comfy bed.
The cowgirl looked down at her hypnotist, whimpering and kissing her face desperately. A leg pressed gently into her crotch, and the mewl that came out finally broke her. "Mmh, Mamaaa~ P-please let me fuck you. I can't stand it, I need you more than anything in the whole world, please please please please-"
"No need to be so hasty, my love, be a good girl and take your time. We have all night to each other. Now, come and lose yourself to me."
She couldn't help but giggle like a little girl. "Hehe, okay Mama â¤ď¸"
I have a heated on again off again relationship with the word "Mama" because on one hand I find the word reeeaaally funny (super mario's classic mama fucker line, just sounds silly in general, etc.) but I also think it's really hot (you know why. pervert.)
Additionally, I think there has to be a humorous connection between super mario's classic mama fucker line and incest but I don't know how to express that cleverly, so!
#milly the yapper#mtf nsft#puppypl4y#hypnok1nk#kinda#very funny that i feel the need to 'hear me out' because it's not incest lol
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Books I want to read in 2023
I am a very, very slow reader, for many reasons, several of which amount to bad time management and too many hobbies. Still, there's several books I want to read this year, and I'm thinking that maybe if I write them down, I'll manage to do it. Or some of it. I don't know.
The idea is that I'll reblog this when I finish a book or more to see my progress.
The Hawkmoon series, M. Moorcock (that's 7 books, but i'm not listing them one by one.)
Moi, OmĂŠga, E. Barillot (it's in french.)
Gideon the Ninth, T. Muir (i've had it since December 2021. still unread.)
Legendborn, T. Deonn
Vingt Ans Après, A. Dumas
Le Vicomte de Bragelonne, A. Dumas (this one is tentative and will depend on whether or not i manage to read VAA)
HorrorstĂśr, G. Hendrix
This seems like a long enough list for someone who has read 0 books in January and February.
#book list#bookblr#or something.#books 2023#i'm going to use that tag and hope it's not used for something else already for uh#finding it later reasons#oh let's also use#find later#yeah. good idea.#sometimes it sucks because i see my friends read stuff and i am just.#i'm just not reading.#and i feel bad about it sometimes#which is dumb ! because uh#if i read all day i could be just as fast#i am doing other things#so. yeah i don't know why i get jealous sometimes even though you know#different people different paces#????#guess i want more hours in a day so i can do everything i already do AND read#unfortunately that's called depriving yourself of sleep and i thoroughly enjoy sleeping#anyway yeah i want to read a lot of fiction this year because lately i have had 0 brain for nonfiction anyway#even though i think my to read shelf is pretty evenly divided between the two
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i think growing up is just life repeatedly sucker punching you and saying bitch you thought things were gonna better lmao no you're so naive and stupid for having hope in 20 years the world will be flaming bag of garbage and no matter how hard you work you'll get eliminated at some point
#and then you just have to get up and keep living anyway because what else is there to do?#but man my heart keeps feeling heavier with every blow#2024 has literally been the worst year ever god personally too#like everytime i think it can't possibly get worse than this it does#i remember literally 9th jan i had such a horrible breakdown in an auto because the first friend i ever made#after school was leaving my work and therefore my life#9 days into the year. seriously. and i was so happy on 8th because it was my birthday#i don't know im trying hard to think okay this doesn't even affect me it's fine im privileged enough that even my own countrys politics#barely affects me#but just. india is already so behind in everything. if developed nations are doing shit like this then well#it will never get better right like who do we even strive to be#i want to get more into indian politics but my god. it's so horrifying and depressing all the time#like i remember resolving to follow politics closely few years ago and the first news#i read was about some minister talking about how girls skirts lengths IN SCHOOL is the reason boys do sa and boys will be boys etc etc#i know i could just follow business news stuff like that god knows it'll help in my field but it just. doesn't resonate with me doesn't#make me feel anything at all. like i so desperately want to care about ooh stock markets and how to grow your money etc etc#but when i think about being rich enough to invest idle money all i can think is sitting in my own home peacefully#drinking a glass of cold coffee and just being able to breathe freely because me and my sister used to joke in childhood#when dad went thru a coffee v bad for health phase and he wouldn't let us drink it so we would drink it very sneakily#at night when he was asleep or went out for an hour and make absolutely no noise while mixing the sugar. we said that we know#we'll* know we have achieved true freedom and happiness in life when we can peacefully drink cold coffee in the hall and not secretly#in the dead of night in our room#i don't even know what im talking about and my period is late again and nothing is working and my lazer focus#that i had built in the past few weeks is gone because suddenly im like what is the point????#i just don't understand how the fuck humans can fight over stupid fucking things like who is kissing who and who is doing what with their#body instead of focusing on collective issues like our planet is dying so fucking fast and every summer is getting impossibler to survive#i hate that the united states control the UN fuck this world fr man i hate being born in such horrible helpless times#like call me a kid or dumb or whatever but i cannot understand how MILLIONS of people do not#have sympathy for ppl around them and who don't care about the planet at all like how????? how did you grow up????#not trying to boast but this is so natural to me!!! didn't you make save water save earth posters in school!!! didn't anyone
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