#just noticed the amount of typos in this

[dont-open-dead-inside-25]

just wan't y'all to know that if you ever reblog something from me with the tags "me and who " or something similar then I will think "oh I should reblog this and say me and you" and then I will get scared and I will leave the tab open for a week+ and finally i will realize that i simply am not brave enough and i will close the tab and forget. anyway what im getting at here is uhhh. i don't know actually

[khaire-traveler]

Khaire, Stag! I don't know if you're a big video game player, but I recently started one that I thought you may have interest in

It's called "Immortals Fenyz rising." The basic plot is a Greek storyteller helping the gods fight Typhon. It's really heavily steeped in the myths- armor and weapons are all from ancient heros, like Odysseus' bow and Apollo's arrows. Hermes is the players guide to help the rest of the pantheon. There's tons of puzzles, temples, and statues of the gods all over the world. If you like games at all I definitely recommend it! It's funny and helps me feel much closer to the gods.

Khaire, it's great to find another player of Fenyx Rising! I love this game! I wish they had more of the gods in it; I'd be curious to see their character designs. I also love how silly it is at times! The hydra's design honestly makes me chuckle a bit (though the fight itself was tough for me lol). I absolutely LOVE Hermes in that game, he's great! It makes me feel closer with the gods as well in a way where it feels like I'm a kid reading about Greek mythology again. c: 🧡

[yuuaregreat]

<3

[paarksunghoon]

DEEP HONEY | SUNGHOON

SUMMARY: the last thing you want to do is interrupt sunghoon’s time with his friends, but your doting boyfriend has always said he’ll be there whenever you need him. when a shift at work leaves you hanging by a thread, he and his friends are there to patch your soul back up.

NOTES: felt some type of way and naturally i need a hug from sunghoon. best i can do is write about it.

PAIRING: sunghoon x fem!reader

WORD COUNT: 2.6K

WARNINGS: angst, typical rough day stuff and typos, probably.

MASTERLIST

***

Your car comes to a complete halt when you situate yourself on the curb of Lee Heeseung’s apartment. The rumble of the pavement beneath your tires ceases to amplify the slight movement that naturally shakes your car seats and you sit in the driver’s side like you’re a zombie.

The muggy atmosphere from the heat attempting to displace the freezing air makes your skin feel sticky and gross as you turn your engine off. The overhead lights temporarily blind you as you stare ahead into the dark night and feel the tension building up in your body.

Your jaw clenches and your cheeks become warm with the sheer amount of frustration seeping into your bones. The cold sweat you harbor makes you feel hot and freezing at the same time. The coolness of your glass window does nothing to quell your body’s temperature.

The familiar two-story house beside you is where Heeseung lives. He rents the bottom property and has lived with Park Jongseong ever since you all collectively started the last year of university.

You don’t necessarily want to be here. Coming to Heeseung’s apartment because you feel like you might combust at any minute seems like an invasion of privacy. Your boyfriend Sunghoon had let you know that he was sleeping over at his friends’ apartment tonight and you had no qualms with the proposition. He deserved to have his time with his friends too. Although it seems that your mind has its own agenda and you find yourself in front of Heeseung’s place in no time.

You step out of the car and lock it. Your feet carry you around the hood and you step onto the hard sidewalk with a slight wobble. The air is chilling, throwing a stark shiver down your spine as you huddle in your arms for warmth. The jacket you have sprawled on the backseat looks at you with concern.

You’re a step away from ringing the doorbell but your finger hovers the white button as tears well up in your eyes. The feeling of desperation and burden weigh on your chest as you listen to the muffled laughter that comes from Heeseung’s living room. Sunghoon hadn’t seen his friends in a few weeks between classes, work, and you. The last thing you want to do is impede on his time with his friends when you’ve spent the better half of this month glued to his side.

But you can’t help it. Your nose feels like it could be burning from the cold and the weather forces you to ring Heeseung’s doorbell when it ripples through your shirt. You hear him padding to the front door and can make out his figure from the bottom, his shadow blocking the light from inside.

Heeseung opens it just slightly ajar to assess who’s standing outside his apartment at this late hour. When he opens it, seeing you standing in the cold with red eyes and no jacket makes him panic.

“Y/N?” he asks. “What are you doing here?”

You think he might close the door with the look of confusion on his face but he opens it wider to allow you into his apartment. He shuts it quickly behind him and notices your chattering teeth, eyes softening at the sound when you look up at him. Heeseung watches your eyes begin to water and puts a hand on your upper back to soothe your emotions, but it makes you spill a few tears.

“I-I’m sorry for coming here,” you hiccup. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay, Y/N. You can always come over if you need something.”

You speak faster than you can think. “Today was so awful.”

Heeseung purses his lips and tells you to stay put. You watch him retreat into the living room and stare at the wall clock in front of you until you hear Heeseung say, “Hoon, your girl’s here.”

Sunghoon hears the worry in his friend’s voice because he stands up from the couch like he’s on a mission. With his eyebrows furrowed and heart beating in his chest, Sunghoon follows Heeseung to the front door and is immediately presented with you.

You look nothing like the happy-go-lucky girlfriend he said goodbye to before heading over to Heeseung’s. This morning, you’d woken up next to Sunghoon and he’d given you a tender kiss before heading to spend the day with his friends. Now, your eyes are swollen and your cheeks are stained with salty tears.

His heart plummets when he sees you standing in Heeseung’s doorway with no jacket on. You look helpless in a way he doesn’t see very often. Your knees buckle in your pants and the goosebumps on your arms are prominent to his eye.

Sunghoon wastes no time and envelopes you in a hug, pulling you into his chest until your face is situated in his neck.

“Baby?” he asks, feeling your hot breaths against his skin. “Talk to me. What happened? You’re so cold. Where’s your jacket? Did you bring one?”

His deep, honey-like voice that utter sweet concern only makes you cry harder. You try to keep your chokes and sobs as quiet as possible but the hiccups emitting from your throat make it impossible. You try to ignore the fact that Sunghoon’s friends can likely hear you weeping, instead focusing on your boyfriend’s warmth.

His arms encircle your body, one hand protectively around your waist and the other secured behind you. Sunghoon’s hands cup the back of your head and he strokes his fingers through your head lovingly.

“I had a bad day.” Your broken whispers makes Sunghoon’s heart sink even further. He pushes your hair out of the way and kisses your temple with plump lips.

“I’m sorry, baby,” he says. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Rethinking the events that led to your arrival at Heeseung’s place only fuels your tears and you shut your eyes, burying yourself further into your boyfriend’s neck.

Heeseung, helplessly standing around the corner, walks closer to tell him the two of you could use his bedroom. Sunghoon rubs the small of your back and slowly walks towards the room, guiding you inside without so much as a word spoken. Heeseung closes the door behind you two and Sunghoon immediately perches the two of you on the edge of his bed.

“My baby.” Sunghoon lifts your head and pushes the tears underneath your eyes away with the pads of his thumbs. “What’s got you upset, hm? Are you hurt?”

“No,” you choke. “I’m not hurt.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

Sunghoon pulls you into his chest and further onto Heeseung’s bed when you give into him. He lets you cry against him, not caring that his shirt is becoming damp as the seconds pass by. His palm soothes the entirety of your back and he kisses the crown of your head, periodically squeezing you tighter when his heart breaks at the sound of your sobs.

“Life is so hard,” you say into his chest. “I feel overwhelmed and scared.”

“Scared of what, baby?”

“I don’t know. Everything? I had the worst shift at work today. A customer ordered a hot coffee but I made it iced by accident and instead of letting me remake it for her, she involved my manager and was making a scene in front of everybody there.”

“I’m sorry.” Sunghoon whispers against your temple and kisses it again. “That’s frustrating.”

“My manager tried to get her to leave but she was pushy. Usually I could handle that but I’m overwhelmed with school and my senior project that I just broke down when the manager sent me home.”

“Your manager doesn’t think you’re at fault, right?”

“No,” you shake your head. “Nothing like that. He said I looked like I needed some rest and told me to take the rest of the night off.”

“Thank God.” He squeezes you tighter. “I’m sorry you had such a bad day. You shouldn’t have to put up with mean people who get mad at you for making a small mistake.”

“Everybody is so fucking mean, Hoon.” You roughly push away the tears from your eyes with the heel of your palm. “I’m tired of everybody expecting so much from me. Between work, school, and my parents asking me what job I’ll have after graduating, it’s all too much.”

Sunghoon coos. “You’re so precious, you know that? You’re dealing with so much and you’re allowed to cry about it. I’m sorry everything is affecting you like this.”

“Sorry for ruining your boys night,” you sniffle. “I feel awful that I took you away from your friends.”

Your boyfriend shakes his head. “Don’t be sorry. I’d come to you in a heartbeat if you called.”

His words only make you cry harder. Sunghoon is the perfect boyfriend. He dotes on you like you’re the only woman he’s ever loved in his entire life and lets you know how beautiful you are any chance he gets. He gets along with your friends and family, welcomes you into his own life, and makes you feel like you can achieve anything whether he’s in the picture or not.

Being with him has made you feel safer than you have in a long time. His arms provide the kind of comfort you’ve always been seeking and despite the amount of frustration and sadness in your body, it seems to be melting away with every kiss Sunghoon puts on your forehead.

Heeseung knocks gently and opens the door just slightly. You feel silly being held like a baby in front of Sunghoon’s friends who you’ve met only once before. It was at Heeseung’s house that you first met the three guys Sunghoon is closest to after they made an effort to invite you over to a night at the local dive bar before coming back to watch a marathon of Marvel movies. Your love for Iron Man catapulted the start of your friendship with Heeseung in particular and Sunghoon was starting to love how well you fit into his life.

“It’s been a while and I wanted to check in. You doin’ okay?”

You sniffle and hold onto Sunghoon’s arm. “Bad day. Everybody sucks.”

Heeseung laughs. “Preaching to the choir.” You immediately realize you neglected to take your shoes off when entering the apartment and scold yourself for bringing dirt onto his hardwood floors.

“Shit,” you say, pulling your legs higher so they’re farther from the surface. “I’m so sorry Heeseung. I’m sorry for barging in.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about it. Take them off, I’ll put them by the door.”

You oblige. Sunghoon holds you to balance your body as you hand each sneaker to Heeseung, who doesn’t look at you weirdly or scold you for interrupting his time with your boyfriend. Instead, he smiles at you and lets you know Jongseong and Sim Jaeyun, another one of Sunghoon’s friends that you met during the movie night, are outside and concerned for you.

“We don’t have to go out if you don’t want to,” Sunghoon tells you as Heeseung closes the door behind him for a second time. “But they really like you and I know they care about you.”

“I only met them once,” you hiccup, toying with the hem attached to the bottom of his shirt. “How could they possibly like me?”

Sunghoon laughs and kisses your cheek. “I talk about you all the time. I’m pretty sure they’re sick of hearing me talk about you and would rather hang out with you instead.”

“You do?”

He nods. “Mhm. I have the best girlfriend in the world, you know. They had a lot of fun getting to know you and were planning on inviting you to a barbecue Jongseong’s having next weekend.”

“Really?”

Your doe-like eyes makes Sunghoon’s heart melt. He nods and kisses your nose. “Yes, baby. They love you. Not as much as I do, but a close second.” Hearing you laugh makes him breathe easier.

“I still feel bad for ruining your guys’ night,” you say with a pout.

Sunghoon eases your mind and presses a tender kiss to your lips to displace said pout. “We’ve all been there. If you’re uncomfortable, we can go back to your place and sleep?”

You shake your head. “This is your night. I don’t want to interrupt and make things awkward.”

“Why don’t we at least get you some water. You don’t have to say anything but at least drink something so you’re not dehydrated.” You don’t want to get up and face the embarrassment of the other three boys seeing you cry, but you know Sunghoon is right. After all the crying you’ve done, you’re feeling parched.

You nod and stand from him, all while he still has one hand in yours. Moments like this make you appreciate Sunghoon even more than you already do. He’s willing to do anything for you at the drop of a hat and it gives you butterflies when you remember this handsome, generous man is your boyfriend.

Jongseong and Jaeyun look at you with concerned eyes when you meet them outside. You try to speak but your mouth keeps opening and closing as you find the words to say.

“I’m okay,” you tell them. “And I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

Jongseong hands you a glass of water. “Don’t sweat it, Y/N. Everyone has bad days.”

“Yeah, but you guys haven’t seen Hoon in forever and this was supposed to be your weekend.” Your sincere apology and the cracks in your voice make Jaeyun’s eyes water too.

“It’s alright,” he tells you sincerely. “We love hanging out with you. You should stay and we can watch movies. We were gonna do that anyway.”

“I don’t want to intrude.”

“Jongseong and I want you to stay,” Heeseung says. The two of them nod. “You shouldn’t be alone when you feel like this.”

“Fuck,” you say, voice cracking to the point where it makes you laugh. The four boys laugh as well and feel the relief in the air around them. “You guys are too nice.”

“We were gonna order takeout too,” Jongseong says, pulling his phone out. “We were thinking maybe fried chicken but Hoon says you love Thai food. Why don’t we order stuff from the place around the block and eat it family style?”

“Oh, you don’t have to change it for me.”

Jongseong waves you off. “Nah. We all love Thai. Any excuse to eat it.”

“And don’t think about paying us back,” Jaeyun says with a genuine smile. “I’ll pay for it.”

“We’ll split it by four,” Heeseung adds.

Jongseong lets you put in your order and everybody else follows suit. Sunghoon has you tucked underneath his chin as the whole ordeal happens and kisses the side of your face every so often.

“Feel better?” He asks, mouth against your ear. His warm breath is comforting, as to remind you that he’ll always be there for you.

“Much better.” Your voice is no longer brittle from your cries. Sunghoon smiles.

“My sweet baby,” he coos. “You’re so pretty when you cry.”

“What about when I’m not crying?”

“Still pretty.” He squishes your cheeks with his hands and pressed a kiss to your fattened lips. “Adorable, even.”

Jaeyun looks at the two of you and laughs. He can only hope that he’ll feel like that with someone someday. It compels him to say something.

“You guys are stupid cute.”

Sunghoon says nothing. He smiles at his friend and squeezes you tighter. Having him to lean back on makes you feel like you might be the luckiest girl in the world.

***

comments and reblogs would be appreciated! xx

[verothexeno]

I just realized for a while that you can now edit tags on tumblr (at least, desktop version) and I think that's the most beautiful update that could ever happen on this hell site

[joeshiestyslover]

fuck it i love you- c. sturniolo

pairing: fratboy!chris sturniolo x academicweapon!reader

summary: you and chris were on two completely opposite sides of the college spectrum. chris loves to party and hook up, and you love to stay in and do your homework. chris would never notice someone like you…right?

warnings: language, mentions of sex, angst, fluff, chris is lowkey an asshole at first but he gets better, reader is good at poker, some typos

masterlist

lowercase intended

you were never one for parties or large social gatherings in general. you are an introvert and very much a homebody, spending most of your time doing schoolwork or just lying in bed. because of this, you never made many friends as a child, and you especially never had a boyfriend.

chris was the complete opposite. chris loves parties and being around people. he can’t stand being in his house and doing nothing. since chris got to college, he spent most of his time at frat parties or hooking up with random girls. another thing about chris is that he’s never been the relationship type of guy. there was always an insane amount of girls that wanted him, but he never gave in, opting for random hookups.

you’re a sophomore in college and the only actual friend you’ve managed to make is your roommate, jasmine. she understood your introverted tendencies and respected them, but she was never afraid to urge you to get out of your comfort zone once in a while. right now, she’s trying to get you to attend a party that one of the school’s fraternities is throwing.

“come on y/n! it’ll be so fun!” jasmine begs. “i don’t like parties. i’d rather stay here and watch bridgerton.” you retort. “you’re always home and it worries me. you need actual human interaction. come on, please! i promise i won’t ask you to do anything like this again if you don’t have fun.” “i don’t know, jas.” you say skeptically. she gives you a look and you know she won’t give up until you go, so you give in. “fine.” you tell her with a roll of your eyes. she smiles and clasps her hands together. “yay! now let’s find you something to wear. i doubt you have anything, so you can borrow something of mine.” jasmine heads towards her closet and digs through until she pulls out a skintight light pink minidress. your jaw drops. “absolutely not.” “you’re wearing this y/n. it’s gonna look so good on you.” she walks over to you and throws it on your bed.

you pick it up and hold it against your body. “oh my god jas. my ass is gonna be on display!” you tell her. “don’t worry girl you have a great ass and you should show it off.” she winks. “okay the party starts in twenty minutes and we still have to get ready so come on.” jasmine leads you into the bathroom and does your hair and makeup first. she spends about half an hour on it before she finishes. you look at yourself in the mirror and gasp. “wow i look so good.” you smile at your reflection. “you’re welcome. now go get dressed.” you walk over to your bed where the dress lays and you quickly undress and throw it on, along with some clear wedges you had stuffed in the back of your closet.

jasmine finishes getting ready and she walks out of the bathroom. you both compliment each other’s looks before grabbing your purses and walking out of your dorm and towards jasmine’s car. you both get in and jasmine puts the car into drive, making her way towards the frat house.

once you both get to the party and you can hear the music thumping from outside the house. you can feel your palms begin to become sweaty and your heartbeat quicken. “jas i don’t know about this. what if something bad happens?” you ask nervously. “everything’s gonna be fine. i promise i’ll stick with you as long as you want me to, okay?” she reassures you. you slowly nod you head. you both then get out of the car and walk into the frat house. the moment you walk in, you can smell the strong scent of weed, alcohol, and sweat.

you look around and notice some people you know from your classes, all of them stoned, drunk, or both. your eyes continue to wander until you lock eyes with him. chris sturniolo. he’s easily the biggest asshole you’ve ever met. he was in your english lit class last semester and the only thing he did was show up late and extremely hungover. you can see his eyes trail down to your body and back up to your face. you roll your eyes and turn to jasmine. “we should get drinks.” you yell over the music. she nods and you both walk into the kitchen, where a vast array of drinks sit on the counter. you grab a beer out of the ice filled bucket where they sit, twist the cap off and take a drink. you look to your left and see jasmine flirting with some guy you’ve never seen before. after a few seconds, she turns to you and asks: “do you think it would be okay if i went with him? it’s totally okay if you’re not comfortable being by yourself. i’ll let him down and stay with you if you want.” you can’t help but smile at her. “it’s okay jas, i’ll be fine. i think i saw some guys playing poker and you know how much i love texas hold ‘em.” she grins and turns back to the guy and he leads her away.

you walk out of the kitchen and walk over to the table where a bunch of guys are sitting, dealing out cards. “y’all got room for one more?” you ask them. “you play?” one of the guys retorts. you nod. “yep. been playing since middle school.” “i guess we could deal you in.” he motions to one of the empty chairs. you sit as the dealer hand you the cards. you take a peek at the cards and see pocket aces. your face remains stoic as you look around at all the guys, trying to read their faces. everyone around the table checks, and so do you. the dealer puts down one card. about half of the guys fold, and a few of them raise, and of course, you match their bets. once again, everyone checks, and the dealer puts down the rest of the cards. you all then turn over all your cards, with you obviously winning. you smirk and gather all the chips to your side of the table.

before you can start the next round, chris walks over to the table. he claps one of the guys on the shoulders before his eyes find yours. he then walks up to you and you once again roll your eyes at him. “hey, what’s your name?” you ignore him and deal out the cards since it’s your turn. “c’mon don’t be like that.” he presses as he sits down next to you. you sigh and turn to him. “if i were you, i wouldn’t even bother learning my name, especially if you didn’t care to learn it last semester.” chris looks confused. “do i know you from somewhere?” you shrug. “wait,” he begins. “you’re that girl from english. the one that always asked a bunch of questions.” “guess so. do you mind? i’m in the middle of something.” you flip over the cards in front of you. “damn okay i see how it is. i’ll catch you later though.” he stands up out of the seat and you flash him a fake smile. “i hope not.” you mutter before he walks away.

you continue to play for a little while longer, surprisingly having fun. you had to admit, tonight is going a lot better than you thought it would. after winning most of the hands, you decide it’s time to head out, so you get up and say bye to the guys you were playing with. you wander through the crowd, trying to find jasmine, but she’s nowhere to be found. she must have gone home with the guy she left with earlier, so you pull out your phone and order an uber. your feet begin to ache and you spot an empty seat on a sofa, so you take a seat. you scroll on your phone for a bit before feeling the couch dip next to you. you look up and see chris sitting directly to your right. you immediately look back down at your phone, desperately wanting to avoid another conversation with him.

“you know it’s dangerous for a pretty girl like yourself to be alone at a party like this. you never know what kinda creep will try and take advantage of you.” he smirks. “i think i can handle myself, thanks.” you say back, avoiding eye contact. “hey, i’m just looking out for you, ma.” you finally turn to look at him. “don’t call me that.” “well, you never gave me your name, so…” he trails off. “you don’t need to know my name.” you say coldly. “why not?” chris tilts his head. “i don’t know what you think you’re doing, but i’m not gonna sleep with you so find another girl to bother.” you snap. before he can respond, your phone goes off, signaling that your uber arrived at the house. without a word, you stand up from the couch and walk towards the front door, leaving behind a very shocked chris.

once you got back to your dorm, you took off your makeup and changed into comfy clothes. the moment you lied down, you fell asleep, but couldn’t help but think about the brunette boy that managed to get under your skin so much.

a week later, you’re at the campus coffee shop, where you work. today isn’t a very busy day, just a few tired college kids in desperate need of coffee. you’re cleaning the tables near the back when you hear the bell ring, signifying that someone had walked into the shop. “welcome in.” you say out of habit. when you look up, your eyes meet chris’ blue ones. you walk behind the counter and plaster on the fakest smile you could muster. “what can i get you?” you ask, trying to get him out as fast as possible. “hey it’s you.” he smirks. “yes it’s me.” you roll your eyes. “what do you want?” “well, y/n,” he reads your name tag, “i would like a cappuccino and your number.” you scoff at his request. “absolutely not. i made it very clear at the party that i’m not interested in being one of your casual hookups.” “i promise i’d make it worth your while.” chris leans in closer to you. “okay buddy.” you say, unconvinced. “come on, y/n-” “not interested chris, either pay for your coffee or get out.” you tell him sternly. now, he rolls his eyes at you. “fine how much?” he pulls out his wallet. “$4.25.” he hands you a $5 and says: “keep the change.” you nod and begin making his drink.

once you finish making the cappuccino, you put the lid on it and hand it to him. “i’ll pull you one day, you know.” he smirks as he takes his drink. “in your dreams.” you retort. “i’ll see you around, ma.” chris yells as he walks out of the coffee shop. you continue the rest of your shift, still not being able to believe the audacity that boy has.

over the next few weeks, chris has been coming to your work, trying to get you to give him your number, and you shut him down every time. “come on, ma, i’m begging you, just one chance, please.” he all but begs you. “no chris, now go away i have customers to deal with.” you walk toward the register, taking a customer’s order. “what do you have to lose?” he questions. “my sanity.” you say putting in the person’s order. “what time do you get off?” “5:30. why?” you raise an eyebrow at his question. “i’ll pick you up and take you to dinner.” you laugh a little, “sure you will.” chris doesn’t say anything and walks out of the store.

sure enough, 5:30 rolls around and as you’re packing up your things in the back, you hear the bell ring. you walk out to the front and see chris at the door. you freeze. you really didn’t think chris would actually show up. “what the hell are you doing here?” you ask. “well, you get off at 5:30 right? i told you i’d pick you up.” he smiles, but it’s not a cocky smile or smirk, it’s a genuine smile. you let out a breath, knowing you can’t get out of it now. “one date. that’s it. you fuck up, you don’t get another chance.” you tell him sternly. he raises his hands in surrender. “i can be nice when i want, you know.” “uh huh, i’m sure. where are we going?” you both begin to walk out the door and chris holds it open, you mutter a small “thank you.” “where do you wanna go?” “ummm” you think, “how about mcdonald’s or something lowkey?” you suggest. “sounds perfect.” he replies, leading you to his car and opening the passenger door for you.

the car ride is relatively quiet, a few comments being made here and there, but it was mostly silent. however, it wasn’t an awkward silence, it was actually quite comfortable. you both get to the nearest mcdonald’s and order your food. it comes time to pay and you begin to pull out your card. “don’t you even dare, y/n.” chris says before you can even get your wallet out of your bag. “chris it’s really not that big of a deal.” you try to reason with him. “no y/n. i’m paying. a gentleman doesn’t make the girl pay, especially not on the first date.” he explains. “okay fine.” you relent.

the rest of the night went much smoother than you thought it would have. chris was a total gentleman and you genuinely had fun with him. at the end of the night, he drove you back to your dorm, but before you left, he asked you out on another date and you immediately said yes.

of course, you still have your reserves because of chris’ reputation around campus, but you wanted to give him a chance. you walk into your room, and see jasmine sitting on her bed. “and where have you been?” she asks. “i was out… on a date.” you say sheepishly. “a date?! with who?!” she becomes interested. “ummm i was with chris actually.” you look down at your shoes. “chris sturniolo? don’t you hate him?” she tilts her head in a confused manner. “i did, but he surprisingly isn’t that bad.” i smile at her slightly. “okay girl just be careful with him. make sure his intentions with you are good before you get too attached.” jasmine warns and you nod at her words. “of course, jas.” you walk over to your bathroom to take off your makeup and get ready for bed.

over the next couple of weeks, you and chris have been hanging out constantly. you actually enjoy his company, and he enjoys yours. you’ve managed to learn more and more about each other. you now know that chris loves hockey, he’s a triplet with his two brothers matt and nick, and he has a dog back home named trevor. all of this new information made him seem like more of an actual person to you and not some asshole you shared one class with for a single semester.

you’re currently getting ready for a party that chris had invited you to. this was the first time you would show up to a gathering like this as a ‘couple’, and you’re a little nervous. you don’t know how people would react because you being with chris is probably the most unexpected thing to happen on campus.

just as you’re putting on your shoes, chris texts you that he’s outside. you say goodbye to jas, and as you’re walking out the door you hear her yell: “be safe! text me if you need me!” you walk over to chris’ car and see him in the driver’s seat. once you open the door, he looks over at you and his jaw drops a little. “whoa. you look amazing, y/n.” you blush a little. “thanks chris.” he smiles at you and begins to drive towards the party.

you get there and can already see drunk students stumbling out the front door, something leaning over to throw up in the bushes. chris puts the car in park and unbuckles his seatbelt. he then gets out and walks over to your side of the car, opening the door for you. he holds his hand out, and you take it. you stand up and before chris releases your hand, he leans down presses a light kiss to your knuckles. you giggle and begin to walk inside the party.

chris puts his hand on your waist and leads you over to the couch in the middle of the room. “i’m gonna grab us some drinks?” he yells over the music. “okay! i’ll be here!” you yell back, hoping he hears you. chris nods and turns to walk towards where you assume is the kitchen.

you wait for a few minutes, think it just takes a while to actually get to the drinks because of the large crowd of people in the house. you wait a little longer before deciding to go and find chris. you walk through the house and you can hear a group of male voices.

you turn the corner and see chris talking with his frat brothers, and you can’t help but listen in. “so how’s it going with that one girl you’re seeing, the smart one?” one of them asks. “her? there’s nothing going on with her. she’s just a hookup, nothing more. she means nothing to me.” he and his friends all laugh. you immediately lose your breath. you were so stupid to believe you actually meant something to chris. you should have listened to your gut, he’s just like all the rest.

you turn on your heels and walk out of the house, needing fresh air. the moment you walk outside, you break down, tears rolling down your cheeks one after another. you pull out your phone and call jasmine, knowing she’d come pick you up. the phone rings a few times before she answers, “hello?” “jas.” you say through your tears. “y/n? what’s wrong? what happened?” she immediately becomes worried. “can you come get me? i’ll explain everything to you later i just can’t be here any longer.” “of course. stay where you are, i’ll be there in a few.” you hang up the phone and look into the distance.

you then hear your name being called. you turn your head and see chris walking towards you. you look away, knowing that if you looked at him, you’d absolutely lose it. “y/n? are you okay? why’d you come out here?” he asks, completely unaware that you overheard his cruel words. “how could you chris?” he becomes confused now. “how could i what?” “do i really mean nothing to you? is getting into my pants the only thing you want from me?” you’re fighting the urge to sob. “of course not baby. who’s telling you that?” he steps closer to you and you step back, finally meeting his eyes. “you did! i heard you talking to your friends! about how i’m nothing but a hookup!” chris’ face drops. “baby no you got it all wrong. i didn’t mean any of those things i said.” “then why would you say it?! i can’t believe i trusted you! i really thought you were different, but you’re not! you’re just like all the other douchebags on this fucking campus!” you yell in his face. “y/n please i-” “save it.” you cut him off. you see jasmine’s car pull in out of the corner of your eye. “i never wanna see you again.” you tell him before walking to jasmine’s car and getting into the passenger’s seat. she swiftly pulls out and heads towards your dorm.

“what happened y/n? what’d he do to you?” she asks, worriedly. “i overheard him talking shit about me to his friends, about how i mean nothing to him.” you sniffle. “oh babe i’m so sorry. he’s such an asshole.” she reaches her right hand over to rub your back. “i should have known. i’m so fucking stupid.” you lean forwards and put your head in your hands. “no he’s stupid for not realizing what he had.” she reassures you. “i just wanna go home and go to bed.” you say. “of course, we’re almost there.” jasmine says as she continues driving.

once you get back home, you flop onto your bed, not bothering to take your makeup or clothes off. you just lie there and stare at the ceiling, thinking about chris. you thought about how sweet he could be, but it was all just a lie to get you into his bed. it’s bittersweet. you felt so humiliated, but you were glad you found out his true intentions before it was too late. you turn over and look at your phone. there are ten missed calls and about fifty text messages from chris. you shut your phone off, not wanting to deal with him right now.

the next few days, the world seems grey. you have almost no motivation to get out of bed. after a day or so, chris stopped texting you and calling you. you assumed he had given up, until he walked into your work holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a small teddy bear. you looked at him with sadness in your eyes, while chris’ eyes are filled with guilt and regret. “y/n,” he begins. “i’m so sorry for what i said. it was wrong and i promise i didn’t mean it. i just didn’t want them to shit on you for dating me. it’s okay if you don’t forgive me, but i just want you to know that i truly am sorry.” he hands you the flowers and bear. you take them hesitantly and say nothing. you nod and walk away, leaving chris behind looking broken.

chris fell in love with you the moment he laid eyes on you. not at the party, but the first day he walked into his english lit class. he quickly thought you were the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. he wanted to go up to you so bad, but based on the dirty glares you would shoot his way every time he walked into class late, he thought you wouldn’t be interested. when he saw you at the party, however, he couldn’t resist, he had to talk to you. he definitely expected you to turn him down, but he vowed that he wouldn’t give up until you agreed to go on at least one date with him. when you finally did, chris knew he was a goner. you were pretty, smart, and funny. you were perfect. the feelings that chris had for you scared him because he had never felt this way before. he didn’t know what to do. when his friends asked how you two were doing, he panicked. he knew you would get shit for dating him because you two are so different, so he told them you meant nothing, which was the furthest thing from the truth. however, he didn’t consider how those harsh words would affect you. the moment he walked outside and saw you crying, his heart broke. chris fucked up. badly. and he won’t stop until you know that he truly is sorry.

after your shift you go back to your dorm and set the teddy bear on your bed and put the flowers in a vase with water. suddenly, your phone dings, and it’s a text from chris: please let me explain what happened. i promise i’ll tell you everything. you stood there and thought about it before replying: meet me in front of the coffee shop in an hour. you shut your phone off and sit on your bed. you hold your head in your hands before you stand up to change into one of chris’ hoodies that you took and some sweats.

about 45 minutes go by before you’re grabbing your phone and keys and walking out of your dorm and towards the coffee shop. once you get there, you see chris standing outside. once he hears your footsteps, chris turns his head and watches you walk up to him. he smiles a bit seeing you in his hoodie, and his hopes raise just a little.

“y/n. hi.” he says nervously. you just nod at him, not knowing what to say. “look y/n, i know i fucked up. what i said was horrible and i can’t excuse that i just… you scare me.” your eyebrow raises “i scare you? why?” you question him, confused. “because you’re so perfect. you have your life together, you know what you want, and i’m just me.” he says desperately.” you’re still confused. “but that doesn’t make any sense.” chris sighs. “fuck it. y/n i’ve been in love with you for a long time, and i know i’ve never said that and maybe now isn’t the best time to tell you that, but it’s how i feel. i swear if you give me one more chance, i’ll do better. i’ll be better. just please let me prove it to you.” chris begs. you stand there, shifting your feet. you bite the inside of your cheek as you process what he just told you. “you love me? you aren’t just saying that?” you ask. chris steps towards you and cups your cheeks with his hands. “i love you, y/n. i love you so much it’s honestly terrifying, but all i want is to be with you.” he looks into your eyes and you know he’s being honest. “chris.” you begin. “yes?” he asks, hopefully. “kiss me.” chris grins and leans down to capture your lips with his, smiling into the kiss. you break away after a few seconds. “but if you ever pull some shit like this again, i’ll cut your dick off christopher.” he laughs out loud. “i wouldn’t expect anything less, ma.” he says before he leans down to kiss you once again.

[solbaby7]

Nothing Even Matters

pairing: cassian x reader

warnings: swearing, probably typos, some angst, mentions of trauma, some fluff

summary: When the only thing you want during your recovery is the very person who put you there in the first place.

[ part one ]

—

“How’s it feel?”

“Fuck you,” You seethe through your teeth, words slurred from the wires holding your jaw shut—only for a few days, they said with remorse but all you could feel was such all-consuming rage. Such intense anger because you couldn’t move your body how you wanted; your arm was stiff in the tight bandaging holding it to your body while the dislocation and fractures healed.

Azriel glanced over at Rhysand who was offering Madja a sheepish smile, hands tucked in his pockets as he stood beside you. “Believe it or not, that was a lot nicer than some of the other words she’s been stringing together.”

“She shouldn’t be talking at all. Healing from a broken jaw is no easy feat—talking before the bone properly sets can lead to us needing to rebreak it all over again.” The heated glare you send her way could’ve killed if they were sharpened swords and Azriel has to step in front of you to ease the stormcloud you were casting above the room. Madja doesn’t seem to mind, urging the spymaster to step aside while she began her assessment. “Follow my finger,” Your eyes narrow with hate but you comply after a beat of time. “Good, no noticeable neurological deficits,” She scribbles something in a notepad, noting down the amount of pain meds you’d been receiving and an update of your vitals. “Your swelling seems to have gone down significantly—does it still hurt when I touch here?”

The High Lord cringes at the stream of profanities that slam at the edge of his mind; an act you’d been subconsciously doing since the moment the tonics for the pain had worn off the first time three days ago. You’d shoved your anguish out as far as it would go, so hard Rhysand had choked on a breath, hands clenching at his sides as he put forth more effort than normal to keep his mental shields up. “She says yes.”

Your hand taps once at Azriel’s arm and when he looks at you, you give him a jerky nod of your head. “She wants to know when she can go home?”

Madja lowers the notebook, voice annoyingly calm and full of understanding; not deterred by your attitude in the slightest. In fact, she seems to expect it, smiling softly before speaking, “Have you been eating?”

Your hand slams down twice on the table before you.

It’s jarring; aggression was never something you’d displayed often, if ever, but Azriel only takes a step closer, nearly sitting on the edge of your cot with an arm wrapped around the back of your pillow.

“I’ll assume that’s a yes.” Madja continues writing, bullet pointing your behavior and way you reel in your snark for the shadowsinger beside you. “Have you been able to get to the bathroom on your own?”

Two more slams against the table but these are much harsher than the first, a cup full of water splashing at the sides and Azriel lets out a sigh. “Not on her own but she’s really close. The dizziness just gets to her when she’s standing for too long.”

Rhysand spares a glance at the towering frame standing in the corner behind them absorbing every word like a child experiencing the world for the first time. Cassian had been unbearably quiet, avoiding Azriel at all costs but he was the first who’d noticed you beginning to stir awake. He’d barely left, always getting caught with a rag and warm water, dragging at your skin gentler than fingertips on flower petals. Rhys had to knock Cass out himself when the med staff came to take you away, advising that the wiring was imperative but the General couldn’t stop screaming about how you’d already been through enough; about how you deserved a full day of peace before putting you through even more pain.

“Any other symptoms besides the dizziness?”

You hesitate, heated gaze faltering for a beat of time before you’re slamming your hand down once and Cassian waits a full thirty seconds; golden eyes boring into Azriel’s back, urging him to mention the nausea, the splitting headaches that had you gripping at the first hand you came in contact with for any sort of comfort.

But, Azriel doesn’t say a thing.

“That’s good, what about—“

“Headaches,” Cassian’s voice is raspy with such little use and he’s more than grateful for the brace preventing you from moving around too much because he’s certain one of those sickeningly sharp glares were being specially crafted with his name on it. “She gets headaches and throws up sometimes because of one of the tonics—it’s orange.”

Madja, ever the professional hums in acknowledgment, scribbling down more notes and a furrow grows at her brow. “Could be an allergy or maybe the mixture is too much on your stomach without solid foods yet,” She not even talking to you, just muttering her thoughts aloud while the others tense; awaiting your reaction. They wait for the ball to drop; wait for the throwing of the first item in sight. It wouldn’t have been the first time and Az’s shadows had gotten surprisingly good at predicting it, darkness darting before the window before you could smash it to pieces since Madja insisted she’d dock any damages from your pay. “Thank you, General, that was quite helpful.”

A full minute passes and still, there’s no yelling; no frustrated grunts or shouting in your mind—just utter silence and you’re too busy settling further into your pillow to notice Rhys’ curious stare.

“If you can manage no talking for seventy-two hours then I will clear you to finish your recovery from home,” You’re nodding before she can finish, Azriel gently pushing you back when you try to sit up in your excitement. “I mean it—I’ll know if you aren’t taking the physical therapy seriously. At least an hour of walking a day ; slowly so you don’t aggravate your ribs and I’ll take off the shoulder wrap if you swear not to do any heavy lifting of any kind.” You throw her a pointed look, a hand waving around to motion at the three men that had been permanently stationed around you.

“We’ll take good care of her.”

Madja exhales a steady breath, hands resting at her sides and way she regards you is nearly motherly; relief settling into her features when she can confidently say you’ll make it. “Then, I suppose you’re free to go.”

—

“Come on she said at least an hour.”

Azriel is a sturdy pillar before you, arms crossed and shadows incessantly tug at the thick duvet you’d been grasping at like your life depended on it since he barged in ten minutes ago. You grunt in disapproval, settling deeper into the mattress and you shield your eyes from the bright light steadily pouring through—even though you remembered closing the curtains last night.

“You’ve already skipped breakfast and lunch; it’s nearly three in the afternoon. Get up.”

Your inability to speak seems to work in your favor because all you offer Az in return is a hand peeking from the covers to flip him off.

A pause and one eye pries open when you hear footsteps retreating. Five minutes pass, then five more before you relax back into the fluffy pillows, dragging the covers up to your chin and a content smile curves at the corner of your mouth for a fraction of a second before your entire body is drenched in freezing cold water.

You lurch from the bed like a creature rising from the dead, feet bare and legs on full display when you slowly stare up at the pleased shadowsinger, eyes wide and arms frozen in surprise as you dripped all over the floor like a wet dog. “Good. Since you’re up and showered, let’s go downstairs and get you something to eat.” Azriel’s looping an arm in your own and leading you out before you even have time to change, sloshing footsteps left in your wake and when you enter the sitting room Mor has to slap a hand over her mouth to hide the laughter.

“Looks like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

It’s harmless teasing; friendly laughs and eyes lined with water when they mention the rats nest atop your head but Cassian’s boisterous laugh doesn’t join in on the fun. He takes one look at you and quietly leaves the room; he'd been doing that a lot since the accident—ever so present when you weren't consious and practically non-existent when you were.

You catch Feyre staring at the bruises on your neck, the thick bandage stuck in place on your temple, how stiff your posture was from the tight wrappings securing your ribs in place and she flushes when you offer her a tight-lipped smile, trying to appear more sturdy than you looked. "Sit, I'll get your food."

Eyes roll at Az's choice of words, easing over to the couch with a low grunt. Food was a sorry excuse for whatever the fuck you'd been sentenced to consume until the wires were removed. A thick porridge like substance with a distinct grit that lingered on your tongue no matter how much water you chased it with.

It was nice to be home though, to sleep in your own bed and being able to ease the tension with a hot bath and a stealthily stolen glass of wine—even if it was impossible to wash your hair or to change your clothes without assistance. Fresh air breezes through the windows, ruffling the curtains and the High Lord is quick to dry your clothes with a wave of his hand. With nothing more than a quick touch to his shoulder in thanks, the others watch you brace your weight against things to get to the hallway, turning left in the same direction Cass had gone earlier.

It’s not hard to find him, cooped up in his room with a glass of amber liquid in hand; eyes trained on the crackling fire. “What are you doing in here?” He’s up in a flash, wings pulled tight behind him and a broad shoulder urges your good arm around his neck, warm hands are careful when lifting you off your feet and carrying you over to the neatly made bed against the wall. Pillows are stacked behind your back to prop you up in a way that didn’t agitate your ribs and you give a sad smile when Cassian’s eyes linger on the bruises that were steadily healing up the length of your legs and he’s carefully covering them in blankets with a shaky breath.

Usually, he’d have sat next to you but now you’re unbearably aware of the distance he puts between you; hands clutched at his sides like he was physically restraining himself from reaching out to touch. “You eat yet?” A slow shake of your head and Cass lets out a little chuckle in understanding. “Not surprised, that shit’s gross. Az never was that good in the kitchen.”

Everything smells like him; male and musk, cedarwood and bourbon. It’s overwhelming in the best way and years of memories begin to flood your senses; countless late nights spent in here drinking and laughing about nothing. Lazy mornings with breakfast in bed and amused snorts over buttered toast and tea when the Illyrian boasted about his latest conquest or earned accomplishments but then would go sheepish when you’d genuinely told him you were proud of him—happy that he seemed happy.

Cassian shifts his weight from foot to foot, unable to meet your eye because you were gazing at him so lovingly; not an ounce of hate in sight and guilt bubbles in his belly like curdled milk. “Don’t go anywhere, I’ll make you something.”

A few minutes pass of you examining the room before you notice there’s a bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and your brows furrow in worry. You’re grabbing it without second thought, shoving the bottle under the bed frame and out of sight before you hear the thudding footsteps coming down the hall and through the doorway. A goblet of a glass is clutched in one hand with a metal straw hanging over the rim; he rambles off some of the fruits he used while he walks over, gently settling it in your hands. Fingers graze and in the blink of an eye he’s already taken three steps worth of space between you but the berry smoothie is a significant upgrade from Azriel’s porridge mixture—little wins. This was sweet but not too sweet, thick enough to quell the rumbling in your stomach and thin enough to push through the gaps in the wires with ease. It’s half gone quicker than you care to admit but Cass seems pleased, yet the small smile he wears is quickly wiped off when you motion for him to sit next to you.

“I can’t.”

Brows scrunch together in silent question, head tilting to the side.

His face crumples, features lined with stress and it’s then you notice just how broken he appears—sure, maybe he didn’t have the bandages and wrappings but the damage was still there. “Look at you, peach,” Tears well at the pet name, your head lowering as if it could possibly hide the ugly bruising on your neck; it was the only spot that seemed to be taking forever to get better, a kaleidoscope of purples and deep blues. “Look what I’ve done to you,” Breath catches and you ache to comfort him when he doesn’t even bother to hold his wings off the ground. “I’m so sorry.”

Cassian only moves closer when you set the cup down and make way to stand; it’s then he sits near you, urging you back down and you see the way his throat bobs with the thick swallow when your hand gently rests over his own. Words aren’t needed to express how much you didn’t blame him; not anymore—not after the nights he’d spent hunched over your bedside spewing out confessions of his feelings. The unconditional love that never stopping pouring over when it came to you and the shameful jealousy that had followed. Secrets he’d kept in fear that you didn’t return the same affections; terrified to ruin the carefully crafted friendship that took centuries to perfect. To become an extension of the other and adding his feelings seemed messy—too complicated and then all of this. You and the sounds of your cries for help permanently branded at the forefront of his mind for all eternity. Waiting in anticipation for Madja’s updates on your health, how you were fairing and if there was any lasting brain damage; a burden he was fully prepared to bare for you. Willing to sit by your side with his fingers kneeding through your hair to soothe away the headache he knew was coming in from the scrunch of your nose even after being pumped full of pain relievers.

It seems fitting that you can’t voice what you know; the pieces that you’d held onto while stuck in your mind. Body too numb to even pry your eyes open but the hope of hearing it while conscious was a strong enough anchor to have you clawing to the surface—back to Cass and those lazy mornings and tea with entirely too much honey.

He’s a mess when you pull him in closer, brushing your fingers through his hair the same way he’d done for you. You can feel the feather light kisses he presses to the exposed injuries, silent tears dripping on your skin, hushed whispers of his apologies, all the ways he’d planned to do in order make it up to you. All the things he should’ve and would’ve and could’ve done and you have to pry his face from the crease of your neck to make him look you in the eye.

There are no words but the intensity of your stare says plenty and he’s right back where he started; wanting things he shouldn’t and falling back into selfish habits. Leaning into the warmth of your mouth slotting over his own and every bruise and broken bone doesn’t even matter when he’s finally kissing you—soft and tender but all too quick and he’s pulling away before you can memorize the feel of him. “You’re perfect,” Cassian whispers, forehead pressed against your own, hands keeping you close. “I don’t deserve you for a second.”

But you only kiss him again because in that moment nothing else mattered.

[somejazzinthemorning]

singapore 23

carlos sainz x reader; [warnings: unprotected sex because why not and yeah, that's just it. it's late and i didn't have time to reread this a lot of times (so it has typos, probably) and no one read this yet so it could not be good, ok?] word count: 1.5K

your boyfriend just won the singapore grand prix.

i did a sad one for spa, it's only fair i do a spicy one for Singapore

"you did great"

carlos’ hands are cupping your cheeks. lips hovering over yours. he’s still panting. you feel his pulse on his digits. still fast. so fucking fast.

"i know"

"you stink"

he chuckles, lips travelling down your jawline, the tip of his nose touching your cheek as he does so. the sweet sound reaches your ears. it’s rich and full, a bit husky.

"i know"

this time, he speaks deeper, like your minds are in sync and he can’t hear your thoughts. you run your hands through his hair, damped in champagne and sweat. you are unaware of what that mixture is doing to you. you only notice it when you feel the flame running through your veins. pride, desire and lust run hand in hand, intoxicating your senses.

perhaps he can hear how fast your heart beats because as he locks his gaze with yours, he simply smirks. you don’t even need to say anything or act on your will.

"cariño, we don't have much time"

no.

“we’ll have just enough time”

you utter. he pulls you closer, impatient and needy and you kiss him deeply. and god. god. it tasted like love itself. the sweet nectar of victory. divine and intoxicating, just like him. and it feels like him. the fizz of the champagne is now getting to your tongue, enlightening everything you were gushing inside. you keep picturing him on the podium. his portrait. the epitome of pride and strength. the image burned into your thoughts. you unzip his suit, until the zipper is hanging down and you can act on getting what you want.

it doesn’t take much until you’re being pressed against the wall. you hiss.

“love, i’ll need you to be really silent”

there is no roof. between you and the world, there’s just a barrier of a few walls and a door you’re not even sure it’s locked. and against all instincts, that makes you want it more. his lips are on your neck, and your hands are roaming his back, along his muscular back, feeling the bulges and contours of his body beneath the nomex. you want to rip it off.

"silent, okay, baby?"

he repeats. each time he speaks, his voice gets lower.

"yes"

his muscles taut under your digits as you explore the fabric in search of the hem. with a desperate tug, you pull it up, revealing his chest. he’s glistening under the lights. a heady mix of sweat. and champagne. and the essence of triumph. that’s all in your mind—how victory drips like gold all over his chest.

god. you’re aching. you need him.

"you looked so good on the podium"

"yeah?"

his hands are pulling your dress up, keeping it around your waist. his lips are sucking on your collarbones and you’re sure he’s going to leave a mark there.

“hmhm”

you bite your lips as he pulls on the lacy fabric of our panties, ever so slightly, just enough to create the right amount of pressure. he’s adoring you. eyes deep and dark trailing your features as he teases you.

“you looked beautiful from there, too. but not as beautiful as you are now”

you moan as you feel his teeth on your shoulder, hands moving lower down, now touching you. you’re wet and you hadn’t realized how much. the bulge in his race suit is hard to ignore. it grows harder against your tight. he wants it as much as you do.

“i’m so proud of you. i love you”

you breathe out.

and then there’s the sound of velcro ripping apart, and the sensation of his fingers tracing an electric path down over your wet panties. a single tug later, he’s inside you—he thrusts himself inside you in one sudden motion. and you have to bite your lip to contain a shuddering moan that escapes your lips anyway. he acts with an animalistic intensity, with the remaining adrenaline in his blood. there's no barrier, there shouldn't be, but if there were, you're not sure you would care. because the feeling of him inside you, the feeling of his warmth, the feeling of his whole body crashing against yours, it’s almost like it's almost like your souls intertwine in perfect harmony—like you're finally coming home.

“say it again”

“i love you. i’m proud of you”

it's merciless, it's rough. it's fucking perfect.

his touch burns you. his mouth leaves a trail of fire wherever he kisses and sucks and licks. he moves his fingers on your clit and your head falls back; your eyes close. you don't need to see him to know he's there. everywhere he touches makes you ache for more.

you're going to explode. it's so good it hurts, so intense it's almost unbearable. and he knows it. and he’s basking on it. he could come just from looking at you. you don't have to say a word for him to understand.

"i love seeing you like this"

he says. you part your lips, a soft moan escaping them. carlos takes his hands from between your legs and pushes two fingers into your mouth. your tongue touches the ridges and curves of his fingers and you can taste yourself in them.

on the other side of the wall, life keeps happening. it’s loud and noisy. the laughter and conversations bounce off of the walls of the hallway, but it sounds distant to you. you hope you’re not making yourself heard, too.

he picks you up and carries you to the massage table in the room. you close your eyes as he sets you down on the edge of the table, your breathing heavy and uneven; you feel like you’re floating above the world.

he looks down at you. some strands of hair falling over his forehead, small droplets of what could be sweat or water or champagne dripping down his temples. he’s divine. chiselled to glory.

you look down, your hands reaching for him. and you see him again standing tall on the podium. pride and vanity eating away at your mind and decorum. he's god. your god. you could pray to him, every day, any day.

"you looked like a god"

you say, gaze locked with his. your hand is around him, sliding up and down as you speak. you can feel it pulsating against your palm. your juices and pre-cump clamping down around him. carlos brings his hand to the back of your neck, wrapping your hair in his hand and holding it as he pulls you against his mouth.

“again”

he orders, against your lips.

“you looked like a god."

there's a pause. a brief moment of silence until you speak again.

"fuck me like one”

he doesn’t need more of an invitation. he positions himself at your entrance and thrusts himself inside you in one fierce motion. your lips part and you let out a moan as he pulls out and slams back in. your muscles clench around him, embracing the feeling, taking it all in.

you moan against his mouth, your hands holding onto him, feeling his muscles tense under your touch. he’s holding your tights, keeping your legs open as he moves faster, deeper.

your hands are grabbing the edge of the table, drowning in the foam and you're forcing your mouth closed. but you don't need words to express how good you feel. he can read you like a map. you exhale sharply, your own hand now over your mouth trying to muffle the noises. he holds you tighter, driving himself deeper inside you. he’s a painfully good execution of perfect.

it feels so fucking good. you can't control yourself.

he's breathing hard, grunting with every thrust, his chest expanding with every breath. you can hear the sounds of your bodies colliding underneath you. he's not even trying to be quiet about it anymore.

"ah-ah, love, don't make that face. i know you want to come. you know how much i want you to come. but hold on, baby, hold on."

your heart is beating faster. you're so close now. his hand is on your clit again, rubbing it in quick circles, and you're so close that the sound of laughter outside the door sounds like a muffle. you're going to come. you're going to fucking come. he growls and his pace quickens. and your body is trembling with every thrust. your gaze is focused on his face, and he knows how damn hard you’re holding to his commands.

"i'm going to break you, won't i?"

you nod repeatedly, eyes wide, biting on your lip. your mind is blank. he leans in and kisses you deeply, his hands pulling your hair harder, sliding in and out of you. you gasp against his lips, your fingers clinging to his shoulders and upper back; you want to bury your head in the crook of his neck, but his gaze keeps you hostage.

and looking into his eyes and facing heaven and hell at the same time.

he owns you in a way you can't even explain. it's like a rope has been thrown around you and you're being pulled deeply towards him and you know you’re incapable of leaving. and you know he will never leave either.

"go ahead, baby. i won't be greedy. i already came first once today"

he plunges deeper into you, banging against your g-spot. you can feel your lips quiver, your back arching. and you know you can’t cry out his name. you feel yourself drown, and then being brought back to the surface. there's a flare. and then the crescendo. and you’re breaking in front of him. and he holds you. still fucking you. cherishing you.

he’s so warm you can feel the heat of his touch through the fabric of the dress you’re still wearing. you bury your head in the crook of his neck, moaning and crying against his skin, and within seconds he pushes himself deeper inside you, groaning as he comes.

"god, i love you. i love you, i love you.”

he says, still holding you. you’re panting, shaking, drunk on his scent and the love only he can make you feel. carlos kisses your head and caresses your hair. slowly, you look up to him.

“i'm so proud of you. i love you"

as always, all feedback is appreciated. hope you enjoyed it! love you all.

[pit-and-the-pen]

Unrequited Love

A/N: I had to get to the airport to return a rental car like 5 hours early so I’m so sorry for the pure amount that I’ve been posting today but as a socially awkward girly, if I’m on my own phone then for sure no one is going to talk to me.

Anywho here is some angsty angst about day court!reader and Azriel.

Part 2: Here Alt Ending: Here Part 3: Here

Forgive any typos I wrote this on my phone.

Warnings: none

WC-1.4K

————————————————————————

My blood was boiling beneath my skin. Azriel has been complaining for the better part of an hour about Rhys gag order regarding Elain. I was trying not to roll my eyes as I had reached my wits end with his lamenting.

“I just don’t understand why he needs to meddle in this. I get she’s Feyre's sister but he doesn’t know what she’s talking about,” he runs a hand through his hair and leans back in his chair. “I just can’t help but think that sometimes the cauldron gets it wrong.”

His words were spoken so plainly. Anger wanes for a second as I swear I could feel my heart break inside my chest. The words seemed to echo in my head Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. I almost would have rather had him carve out my heart with truth teller.

“What do you think?” He asks me and I sit reeling over his words. I can’t think of anything to say to him. The comforting words I would normally have for him can’t get past the anger starting to cloud my vision. So I simply shrug, avoiding the question. Desperately trying to change the subject.

“So this new book I’m reading…”

“Oh c’mon.” He interrupts me. “I know you have something to say. And I trust your advice more than anyone else. There isn’t anyone else I would rather talk to about this.” His eyes softened as he looked towards me. Instead of melting under his gaze like I normally do, red bites at the edge of my vision.

“I think you should leave her the hel alone.” My tone is not gentle. He freezes.

“What?”

“She has a mate already. And regardless of if you think the cauldron got it right. Lucien is the one mated to Elain,” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “And Lucien is a wonderful male who has been through a lot of shit. He deserves someone as sweet as Elain, if she ever comes around. You should stop meddling.”

His mouth opens, when no words come out, he closes it again. You see the muscles in his jaw tick as he clenches his teeth.

“What has gotten into you? When did you become Lucien’s spokesperson?” He spits at me. His face starts to get closer to mine as he leans over the table, slowly starting to rise to his feet.

The sane part of me is telling me to stand down. That one of the most powerful warriors in all of Prythian was starting to get angry at me. My mate was starting to get mad at me. But I would not cave under his intimidation.

“I became his spokesperson when you showed no respect for him. Or for Elain.” I noticed I was starting to get to my feet. “What about what she wants? She doesn’t owe you anything more than she owes Lucien. Rhys told you to stay away from a girl you feel entitled to and now you want to mope like a petulant teenager. Grow up Azriel.” He flinches before something stoney sets in his eyes.

“At least I’ve actually told her how I felt. What about you?” My stomach drops into my knees. “Sitting and pining over the same person for a century.”

“You knew?” My voice was nothing more than a whisper. This was not happening. I should have left when I had the chance.

“It’s not like you tried to hide it. I thought at some point you would get the hint that it wasn’t going to happen but yet there you always were trailing behind me like a sad little puppy.”

My hands on the table started to glow faintly. My anger was finally breaking through the surface.

“You asshole. You stupid Illyrian bastard.” The smirk that graced his face fell instantly. “After everything that I’ve done for you, you want to use my feelings for you as some fucking weapon against me.”

Even I was surprised at the venom in my words but I was on a roll. “I sat by for five hundred years. I sat by as you pined over Mor, someone I consider my sister. I felt that bond go unreturned.” He completely froze at my words. Words I have never spoken out loud to anyone.

“Wait-“

“No. You get to hear this shadowslinger.” I pressed my finger to his chest and he stepped back like I had hit him. A small part of me wishes I had. But this. This right here is why Rhys kept me around. I didn’t need to throw a punch to put someone on their knees.

“I followed you around like a lost puppy and you loved it. Every second of it. I was stupid enough at some point to believe that it was because you felt it too. And I couldn’t get away from those feelings,could get away from you. Every time I tried I would damn near drive myself crazy and then you would smile or say some funny joke and I was right back to where I started.” I willed the slight shake in my voice to disappear. “You just wanted to feel important because the one you truly loved wouldn’t have even entertained the thought. Took other males into her bed, but not you right? So why not go for the next available thing. Me. Who cares if I got hurt? Who cares that I still fucking loved you through all of it? Not you clearly. You played me like a fucking fiddle and I played my part well.”

When I finally looked back up at his face I saw nothing but a shell of the male that stood in front of me. Even his shadows had retreated from his side. Looking down I realized they were sitting at my feet. I pushed down the glimmer of something I didn’t have time to think about at the sight.

“Please. Just stop.” He pleaded.

“Why? Because it hurts to hear? Fuck you. “And you think that didn’t hurt me too?” I watched him pale. “You didn’t think it killed me to feel that empty weight in my chest every time I looked at you. Everyday that I waited and wished that you would feel that stupid bond I’ve had to live with for the last two centuries.”

He gasped at my words cutting me off

“You never told me about that. I just thought it was… I don’t know… I thought it was a crush like how I felt with Mor”

A muscle in my jaw ticked. “I shouldn’t have had to! The whole point is that you feel it too. Bonds aren’t supposed to be one sided but for some gods unknown reason, you didn’t,” I felt the anger really starting to boil over.

“Every time I heard you rambling on and on about how perfect Mor was, about the females you took into your bed. I sat by all of it, for what? Three sisters for three brothers?!” I was screaming now, my hands shaking by my side

“What happens when she’s all fixed up too Azriel? When she feels this same thing I feel when she looks at Lucien. Onto the next one for me to hear about I guess . Always on the sidelines. Always the sweet face to come back to at the end of the day but never the one you want to be with.” I took a deep breath for the words about to come out of my mouth, steeling my nerves.

“I’m done. With this. With you. Fuck this entire gods damned city. I will not sit by and play second to whoever you deem worthy enough for the rest of my life.”

He held up his hand like he was going to reach up for me but the light that was glowing off my skin was warning enough.

“Where will you go?” Was all he had the nerve to say.

I let out a cold, twisted laugh. “Anywhere but here. Hel I could finally go home. Helion has

been asking me to come back for years now. All I know it will be somewhere where you can’t come and ruin another half a century of my life. Because that’s what you did. I wasted all this time on someone I knew wouldn’t love me. But I can agree with you on something, Azriel.” I paused long enough to see the hope in his eyes as he whispered “what?”

“That sometimes the cauldron does get it wrong.”

I walked out of that room with my head held high

[qwimchii]

𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 (pt. 6) — 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘪𝘭����𝘺

playlist pt. 1 pt. 2 pt. 3 pt. 4 pt. 5 pt. 6 pt. 7 pt. 8 (10/24)

𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘹 𝘧!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺 — 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘭𝘢𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘭 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘸𝘤 — 13.1k

𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 — 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘮𝘶𝘵

𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴/𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴 — 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘵!𝘢𝘶, 141𝘨𝘢𝘯𝘨!𝘢𝘶, 𝘨𝘶𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘥𝘰𝘮!𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵, 𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘨𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 (10𝘺𝘳𝘴), 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘢𝘭𝘤𝘰𝘩𝘰𝘭, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 & 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦, p. in v, 𝘱𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘴𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘶𝘱𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬, 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘬 (𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢?), 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘚𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 😵‍💫, 𝘥𝘦𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘶𝘴𝘴𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘶𝘯𝘬 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘯

note: i really hope this isn’t too angsty and confusing? also i noticed the atrocious amount of typos i had in the last part and holy moly... hopefully this one had less because i very lightly proofread it 😭 but if it does i am sorry (im really lazy about proofreading help 😵‍💫)….

two months later

you had not talked to Simon for two weeks. you had not even seen him for days.

the last time you did, it was late at night in the office.

most nights, just like days ago, you were up late working, rain pelting against the window where you typed at your desk, just the irregular patter of rain filling the empty office and the quick clatter of the character keys beneath your fingers. there was a sharp ache in your shoulders and you sighed, rolling them back and wincing at the cracks along your spine. 

rolling your head back, you looked at the desk beside your own—painfully empty in the dim lighting.

as promised, one-four-one had filled the gaping power chasm within the western frontier, shifting headquarters to the capital of the west and buying several properties on every key corner of the sprawling city—much like the brand new townhouse you called an office. 

not many rival gangs had stood up to the power shift because they couldn’t. widespread federal crackdowns had swept through the city. the anonymity of one-four-one had still been preserved—though over time, you had grown to doubt that—and one-four-one had won the war.

it didn’t feel like it though. it felt like you were in hiding all over again, but not from Turner’s men. it was the law this time.

now, at least, one-four-one disclosed all business endeavors to you.

you poured over their financial bookings. Simon had grumbled about it, saying something like it was dangerous for you to be so involved, but it didn’t matter much anyway. you were their main operation of business now, and all ordeals went through you… and your father’s saloon chain.

Kate implored, with the heat of the law breathing down one-four-one’s back, that they needed a legal guise for their illegal ventures. and you offered the saloon chain as an outlet so long that  you would remain the major shareholder.

one-four-one had agreed and Simon, albeit grudgingly, with a grumpy disposition, had agreed.

but establishing a saloon in every town, city, and borough of one-four-one’s proved to be difficult, making Simon busy and you even busier.

eyes darting back down to the empty desk, you missed the vacant absence by your side nonetheless. rubbing at your face, you decided to call it quits, reaching over to turn off the lamp at your desk. the room plunged into darkness, and only the murky light of the moon seeped through the window.

a chill swept through the place and you couldn’t help but shiver, swiping away all papers and materials into the filing cabinet beside your desk when there was a knock at the back door of the office.

“who is it?” you called, sliding the drawers shut and wiping your palms against your dress.

when there was no response, you paused, craning your neck to peer at the door. through the opaque glass, you could make out a tall, shadowed figure at the door.

sighing, you snatched a revolver from your purse, cocking it just in case, and strode over to the door to twist it open.

“business hours are closed—” you began, looking up to the tall figure in the entrance, breath hitching when you saw a familiar scarred face.

Simon looked tired—more tired than you remembered him after two weeks. maybe older too, you worried, watching the downpour roar of rain slip off his trench coat. he just watched you with quiet eyes and a blank expression, swaying slightly in the doorway, which only worried you more.

“Simon—” you said, voice pinched as you reached out to him, then muffled a yelp when he suddenly lurched forward and pressed his wet body to yours.

your hand was still outstretched when he curled into you, big body bent down to wrap around your waist and pull you flush to him.

“missed you,” his whispered, pressing his nose into your neck, then kissing there. the water seeping through your dress made you shiver and he rubbed at your sides, like he was trying to warm you.

an overwhelming crash of confusion wracked you. Simon wasn’t due to be back for a while. at least a few more weeks. nonetheless, you twisted your hands into his clothes, amazed to find him solid and real in front of you.  

“Simon. why are you here—?”

he pulled back from your neck and suddenly pressed his lips to yours, the kiss cold and wet from the rain, his stetson tipping off his head when he angled his head to kiss you deeper, messier, his teeth knocking into yours as his tongue dipped through your lips.

you muffled a squeak, trying to match the fast movements with your own, curling your arms around his neck and letting the revolver clatter to the floor. when his tongue brushed against yours, there was a rich and bitter taste in your mouth, and you gasped. alcohol.

you pressed against his chest and he pulled back with a disgruntled noise, frowning, before trying to kiss you again. but you pushed him away by his jaw and his frown only deepened.

“why?” he asked softly, brows furrowed. 

you rubbed his chest, quelling the hurt look on his face to melt away.

“you’re drunk, Si,” you whispered back before gently tugging him towards the vacant chair in the office.

when he sat in it, the chair groaning under his weight, he tried to pull you onto his lap, fingers curling around the back of your thighs and tugging you forward. when you didn’t budge, he huffed, and jerked you forward with enough force that you fell into his lap with a yelp.

“Simon—!”

he curled you up into his lap, snaking an arm around your waist and the other up your chest, hand gripping at your shoulder to keep you locked against him. with a sigh, you let it happen, smoothing your dress free of its wrinkles Simon had just created. his eyes lazily followed the movement, nose pressed into your cheek and hot breath against your skin.

“pretty dress,” he remarked, squeezing you tightly. you just rolled your eyes.

you were about to give him a sarcastic quip when, voice deceptively soft, he asked, “why are you avoiding me?”

the breath left your lungs, and you went very still.

when you didn’t give a verbal response, Simon shifted beneath you, just winding around you tighter.

“supposed to be my wife,” he said, forehead sinking into your neck. his voice was so somber that you had to stifle a laugh of disbelief.

“you haven’t even proposed,” you reminded him. he just grumbled something you couldn’t hear, words smothered against your skin.

you didn’t know why you were avoiding him. 

Soap had told you—very briefly during one-four-one’s inhabitation of san francisco—that it gets worse before it gets better. he had said it so briefly that you hadn’t know what he meant, didn’t really think it meant anything, until your life resumed in a new bustling city that felt impossible to get accustomed to.

now you know exactly what he meant. swallowing hard, you willed the thoughts away, burying them under a thick layer of bitter denial that Simon sniffed out like a hound.

“marry me then,” he offered, and you pinched the skin of his wrist.

“no. you’re not proposing to me while you’re drunk.”

he huffed out. “why not?”

you ignored him. “why were you drinking?”

when he was silent for a long moment, you smothered a smile of victory, feeling like you had won for some stupid reason.

then, he grumbled out quietly, “you were ignorin’ me.”

the smile slid from your face.

after a pause, you hiked up your dress, uncaring for indecency when you twisted in his hold, hooking your thighs around his in the chair. he gripped your hips tightly, looking up at you with hooded eyes. the small, unpleasant twist of his lips soured any warm feeling in your chest.

“m’not ignoring you,” you said softly, reaching up to brush the tangle of his blonde hair from his brow. his hair was getting too long now—the close shave on the sides of his head shaggy and unkempt.

he looks pretty anyway, you decided dreamily, kissing his forehead gently. his hands slid up to your waist, gripping you tighter.

“feels like it,” he grumbled and you suppressed a smile.

“sorry,” you said, the ache in your chest only swelling when you noticed the crestfallen look in his dark eyes.

“i’ve been busy,” you admitted, rubbing a comforting hand over his chest.

he just pulled you closer, forehead knocking against your shoulder. his hands crept up to your upper back now, clutching at your dress.

“so have you,” you pointed out.

he mulled in silence, hands sliding back down your torso, a shiver wracking you in his hold. then, he dropped his hands to your legs, fingers brushing over your legs as he edged up your dress, hands sliding beneath the fabric to play with the hem of your drawers. the leather of his gloves was cool against your skin.

“Simon,” you chided, blushing when his fingertips slithered beneath the fabric.

“missed you,” he reiterated, grip firm on your upper thighs as he pulled you tight against his hips. the blush bloomed across your ears and neck when you felt his hard arousal beneath his pants.

“not in my office,” you hissed, and he grumbled.

“you were gonna shoot me,” he complained, picking his head up to glare at the revolver that lay forgotten across the carpet floor, just by Simon’s fallen stetson.

you rolled your eyes. “i was not gonna shoot you.”

“you should make it up to me,” he interjected, voice a seductive, low rumble.

with another roll of your eyes, you swatted at him, pulling off his lap despite the string of expletive protests that left his lips.

you knew him too well to be fooled by his manipulative seductive tendencies. instead, you gathered your items and your purse, ignoring his big, sukling body beside yours. when he tugged at your dress, and you ignored him again, he made a sad noise.

upon observing the dark cloud of disapproval that roiled off his body, and the deep scowl on his face, you promised, “later Si.”

at that, he perked up, looking hopeful as he followed you to the back door of the office. you picked up your revolver on the floor and shoved it in your purse. opening the door to the pouring rain outside, you sighed, wishing you had an umbrella as you craned your neck out into the night.

instead, Simon picked up his stetson from the floor and pushed it onto your head. it was too big on you and tipped forward, concealing your vision of the city streets. at that, he huffed a laugh and drew you closer, hitching up his coat so that you were tucked beneath his arm and the flap of his trench coat.

“lead the way, lovely,” he said, voice tinged with an amused lilt as you frowned, tilting his hat back so that you could see as he led you down the little steps from the office and out onto the street—bound for his horse by the cobbled sidewalk, the black stallion stomping in the rain. bound for home.

looking over at Simon whose eyes were trained ahead, you took in his content, handsome profile with a greediness, only realizing just then how much you had missed him. down to the very bones of your body, you had missed him. 

just then, you couldn’t help but feel that you were already at home in his arms.

but that was days ago.

Soap had ridden into the city with a panic that same night, roving around to find that blonde brute of yours, he had explained in the comforts of your new, big apartment. the third place he had looked was your home, and you had tried to hide the flush of your skin behind the cup of tea you sipped.

he had explained that Simon had gone home prematurely without a notice, too drunk to reason through with things. too drunk to be able to quell how much he missed you.

with a sinking feeling, you had come to acknowledge with a tinge of guilt just how much you had been neglecting him. not that it was your responsibility to take care of him in the first place. you weren’t married.

though, after everything, that didn’t seem to matter at all. you were completely his anyway.

with a wince, you couldn’t help but wonder, was he yours as well? could you even dare to wonder if your relationship was an equal give and take? if it was anything more than a silent power imbalance?

eyes darting from Soap to your open bedroom door, you eyed the large lump beneath the blankets of your bed. you hadn’t even done anything upon arrival at your home. you had pushed him toward the bedroom and he had sunk down into the mattress, exhausted from his long ride to san francisco, and promptly fell asleep, thoroughly soaking your sheets.

you had let him sleep, content to lay flush by his side and tangled in his wet embrace, till there was a pounding on your door. you had opened it to find Soap dripping with water and looking just as tired as the hulking man who slept in your bed.

and there you were on the living room sofas with Soap, sipping tea as he explained that they needed to go back and finish taking care of things in arizona and mexico. then they would be home bound again. it was a promise.

once the sun crested the sky along the horizon, you gently shook Simon awake, looking confused and sleepy in the morning light.

he had gone without much reluctance—much more sober than the night before. a composed stoicism overtook him again and he was curt in his goodbye. so curt it made your heart ache.

he could barely look at you, brushing his gloved fingers gently against your cheek in a brief reminder of his deep, lingering affection, before he disappeared with Soap out your apartment. the only remnant of him was your drenched sheets and the soft smell of smoky ash and woods against them.

this was how it had been for months. it gets worse before it gets better, Soap had said to you when things had grown tense between you and Simon. you were managing a business. he was managing the entire western frontier through the business you managed.

was marriage an option anymore?

your mind chanted a quiet reminder that it wouldn’t be long before one-four-one would be in san francisco permanently. Simon’s stoic presence would be more resolute and then maybe, maybe, you could do something about it.

there were nights when you caved when he was home, staying just across the hall from your apartment, knocking at his door and desperate for his touch on your skin. he would always relent, picking you up and throwing you onto his bed, crawling over you and setting your whole body alight with sensual touches and long, breathless kisses as he fucked you through several earth shattering orgasms that had your nails scratching down his back, hands twisting his hair, sometimes biting down on his shoulder to try and quell the overwhelming pleasure of it.

you’d roll in the sheets for hours, tangled together until the sun came up after a long, pleasurable and sweaty night. there were always bruises left along your skin, a darkened splotchy purple against your hips where his had slammed into you over and over, making you see stars.

there were nights when he’d do the same. you remembered opening the door to him—half-naked and his bare, muscled torso on display, a scarred, discolored twist of skin over the side of his chest and shoulder that matched the skin of your own arm. there was always a tinge of plea in his voice, of desperation, as he edged you into your own apartment and you always, always relented.

you remembered being down on your knees for him for the first time, throat swollen and tight as he eased his cock down your throat, a gentle hand in your hair.

“thas’ it,” he had praised, voice slurred as he guided you through the unusual motion. your head slid up and down his thick, hot length that pulsed in your mouth, sucking him with closed eyes.

“look at me,” he had commanded, thumb pressing against your cheek and you had fluttered your eyes up at him, head feeling light and airy from the lack of oxygen circulating in your system.

“fuck,” he choked out, head tipping back at the sight of you, so small and obedient between his thighs.

it was just like this every time—mind blowing and unforgettable. content in his strong arms after every night of intense passion, your cheek pressed to his warm chest and soft, lulling whispers into your ear as he stroked your hair till you fell asleep to his random bursts of rambles about work, one-four-one, and you. soft, loving words about you.

he was always the most talkative those nights. in the morning, he would always be gone, and in the light of day, you’d half ignore each other for fear of…

you didn’t know what you should be fearing but you feared something so strong that you buried yourself in work and allowed yourself to be selfish. trying desperately to forget everything and always failing much to Yue-Yi’s amusement.

damn special privileges, you had hired Yue-Yi as a personal assistant after the majority of brothels had been shut down with the crackdown of law across the west. managing so many of her own personal clients throughout her life, Yue-Yi proved to be adept at organizing your busy schedule and especially adept at keeping you company when one-four-one was gone. when Simon was gone.

she reminded you to take care of yourself when you were overworking. you always countered by saying that one-four-one was working twice as hard, though with the incredulous look she would send you every time, you grew to become unsure of yourself.

and here you were in the present, days since you had “talked” to Simon though his mind seemed to be barely present underneath a veil of intoxication. days since Soap had whisked him back to whatever duties that lay east of san francisco.

you tried to ignore it all, taking long strolls through the park during lunch to avoid the hustle bustle of your office during the busy hours. you preferred to work in silence, but that proved difficult with the growing number of employers that were corralled into your business, no matter how perturbed they thought an unmarried woman as their boss.

you heard their gossips and whispers. they thought you were hiding a secret marriage with the prophesied ceo from them. Simon Riley. little did they know, their ceo was actually you. you didn’t have the heart to tell them that they were wrong and allowed them to continue thinking you were some favored personal assistant of Simon—just a typist and nothing more.

you only let a few men—vaqueros who knew good english with proficient math and business skills—into your secret, pressing real business matters to carry out into their hands. they never questioned it, and whether it was a command from Alejandro or not, you thought of them as amiable acquaintances.

the fall leaves littered the path in the park on this day, your hands clasped behind your back as you observed the sun flecked surroundings. a husband and wife ambled through the grass as their children trailed behind, throwing up colorful leaves into the air with pitched laughter. immediately, you looked away from the sight.

that’s when you spotted a familiar man staring at you, splayed across a nearby bench in a fancy three-piece suit and ginger hair fiery in the sunlight.

you stopped in your tracks.

“Konig?” you choked, slowly edging toward him. he tipped his head to you with a smile that smothered something strange in his pale green eyes.

“pleasant to see you little lady.”

your mouth opened and closed and you would’ve sat by him if it weren’t for the thrumming, ominous instinct in you to stay away.

and you did just that, stopping a comfortable distance from the big man, his eyes never leaving you as he took a swing from a flask before tucking it back into the breast pocket of his suit.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, dismayed, wondering if you were hallucinating it out of your own loneliness.

he ruffled his hair, smile lopsided but eyes still flat and dead and cold. Konig had disappeared on the move into san francisco. he would reappear every one and a while, poking around in your business and checking on your well-being before disappearing all over again. it was frustrating and left you beyond confusion.

it left Simon seething because Konig would conveniently pop up in the midst of a random, bustling street, tell you with joy that he was staying just around the corner of your new apartment and make Simon sulk at the very sight of the austrian man.

“my employers in Austria,” he said with a tilted head, “they want me to stay in san francisco for business.”

your mind spun. business? assassin business?

your throat ran dry. “you won’t kill Simon, will you?” 

the smile on his face was malicious.

“i already tried,” he said slowly, and you suppressed a shiver, remembering when Kate had told you that Konig had left Simon for dead in that fire but took you with him. saved your life.

“that british boy,” Konig said, brow furrowed like he was concentrating hard, “i do not like him, Engel.”

you sighed out, rubbing at your temple. “i know, Konig.”

when Konig only kept staring at you in silence, you decided to probe him with questions. “where have you been?”

you were surprised by the hurt in your voice. his brows only rose slightly. “san francisco—”

“what have you been doing?” you interjected, twisting your hands in your dress.

he stared at you for a long moment. “business.”

his voice dropped an octave. “and watching you.” then, he rephrased, “watching you and Ghost.”

you wrinkled your nose. not ominous at all.

“you care about him,” he observed lightly, looking away from you. a frown twitched at his lips and you sighed, gaining the courage to sit on the very opposite edge of the bench. though with his sheer size, he took up more than half of it, his arm splayed out over the back and his fingers pressed against your shoulder when you leaned back to look up at the clear, crisp sky.

“i do,” you confirmed, and he shifted beside you, picking up his hand to play with the ends of your hair.

“why? he’s an insufficient boy,” he grumbled and you couldn’t help the smile on your lips. you had never heard someone describe Simon as a boy, though sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel the same.

“i am an insufficient girl sometimes,” you countered, surprised when Konig shook his head.

“i have always seen you for what you are, Engel.” his pale green eyes flitted from your hair up to your eyes.

“capable.”

at that, you swallowed hard, but he continued on. “i want to stay in america. for you, little american.”

quickly, you countered, “you didn’t know me before, Konig.”

he shook his head again. “i don’t need to.”

there was a dizzying panic that rose in your chest. 

“i’m not innocent,” you practically hissed, pinning him with your most intense gaze that he easily held. “i have mental issues. i don’t know who i am or what i want. i just want…”

your voice faltered. “Simon.”

then, you whispered so quietly that you almost couldn’t hear yourself, “i love him.”

the admittance of it was like a weight that slid off your shoulders, and you gasped a breath you didn’t know you were holding.

Konig had gone very stiff beside you, a pure look of something dark and angry twisting his face before it was swept away. he took his arm from you, letting your hair drop against your shoulders, sighing as he looked away.

“i don’t get it,” he grumbled.

you could only agree. “i don’t either.”

after a long moment of silence, Konig stood from the bench and whirled around on his heels, hands in his pockets and an easy smile on his face, though you could see the strain in his eyes.

“no matter. this will be the last time you see me, Engel.”

“i doubt that,” you said bitterly and his smile only grew.

“you are a business woman,” he said carefully, giving you a slight bow, “i am sure we will do business later in life.”

i’m counting on it, you thought, but didn’t voice as he turned on his heel and strode out the park with a confident step. your heart shrunk with every step he took. maybe you cared about him more than you realized.

you winced, trying to imagine how you would tell Simon about this strange encounter. then, you corrected yourself, reminding yourself that you actually didn’t need to tell him anything at all.

“excuse me!” a voice called from afar, and you turned to see Yue-Yi standing at the edge of the park, hands balled up by her side.

at the sight of her, a smile crept up to your face as she impatiently tapped at her wrist. 

“you’re late for a meeting,” she hissed as you strode over. with a nasty look, she whirled around to trudge toward the office with a huff. 

you looked back at Konig one last time, towering as he weaved around people who glanced at him with a wariness.

when he didn’t look back, you hurried to catch up with Yue-Yi, a strangled laugh escaping you when she quickened, throwing a mischievous look over her shoulder as you chased her up the steps to the office.

the meetings went smoothly. as usual. most of Turner’s men had been decimated or scattered, lost to the winds as they left western gang life for a mundane one. few changed sides to work for one-four-one. there wasn’t much threat to your livelihood now, especially now that there was a legal outlet for illegal activities. you implored one-four-one to set up a horse race betting system within each saloon—semi-discrete and something local law enforcers were a part of from time to time…

the rest of the day continued to go smoothly till it was late in the evening, nearing dinnertime, when you passed Yue-Yi typing at her desk. gathering the necessary papers she typed up, one paper by her typewriter caught your eye. 

familiar, obnoxiously loud handwriting in all caps lined the top, addressed to YUE-YI from SIMON RILEY. you immediately picked it up, eyes darting over the paper, just reading the first few, formal sentences when Yue-Yi snatched it from your hand.

“didn’t anyone ever tell you it was rude to read someone else’s letters without permission?” she said with a scowl, wagging a finger at you.

you ignored her, reaching for the letter but she leaned back, crumpling it into a ball in her hand.

“Yue-Yi,” you whined, and she just rolled her eyes with a little smile.

“what is this about?” you probed, endlessly curious as to why Simon had written to Yue-Yi.

and not you, a slither of a whisper spoke in your mind. you grimaced. in all fairness, you never wrote to him either.

mulling by the edge of her desk, Yue-Yi sighed at the sight of you, lost and confused, as she resumed her work and lined up a fresh piece of paper at the typewriter.

“one-four-one is coming back tonight.”

you balked. “tonight?”

she shrugged. “Ghost addressed the information to me several days ago. the letter did not arrive till this morning. we will dine together at six o’clock.”

checking the clock on the opposite of the room, you bristled.

“it’s half past six, Yue-Yi,” you gritted out between a clenched jaw.

she stopped her incessant typing, giving you a brief glance full of impatience. “your meetings didn’t end till half past six.”

you groaned with frustration, stomping back into your office and moving past Simon’s vacant desk without even a glance at it—a bad habit that you had developed to somehow will him to return quicker.

not this quick, you lamented in your head, rifling through the wardrobe (for special occasions just like this) by your desk, undressing in your personal bathroom with quivering hands.

someone knocked on the door politely, a three beat rhythm you recognized as Yue-Yi, and with huff you tugged it open, not sparing her a glance out of your own frustration. she closed the door behind her softly, moving closer to undo the back of your dress for you.

you wasted no time to pin up your hair, eyes darting to hers through the mirror, flushing to find her gaze already pinned on you.

with a grumble, you complained under your breath, “how could you do this to me.”

she lightly smiled, helping you pull on the fine gown, exposing your neck and a glimmer of your collarbones.

“i knew you would’ve ran away if i told you weeks ago.”

grimacing, you chose not to say anything, remembering how you had done the same a couple months prior. but it was just once—Simon had written to you saying that he would be in town for the night, and you had written him back saying you were just too busy that night.

it was a lie. 

oh how the tides had changed between the devil and his angel. it wasn’t out of your own revenge, but the gnawing fear wracking your bones and those simmering, painful questions running circles in your mind.

could Simon ever be yours?

it just wasn’t so simple anymore. maybe it never was.

Yue-Yi hummed softly as she pulled your corset tighter for good measure and buttoned up the back of your dress, smoothing it over before giving you a hug from behind.

“you look divine,” she said as you pulled silk gloves up your forearms.

“thank you,” you squeaked with a flush. she patted your sides before opening the door for you like a proper gentleman.

you curtsied for her and rolled her eyes, smacking your backside on your way out of the office as you squealed, and she laughed when you rubbed at your ass that stung beneath your gown.

moving through the townhouse, rooms of the place had been converted into work spaces, lined with desks of busy men with cigarettes between their lips that filled the room with a smoky haze. they paid you no mind as you followed Yue-Yi to the end of the hall, passing by the room of women typists who bid you kind goodbyes and waved as you descended down the spiral steps to the lobby.

there was already a horse and buggy stationed at the sidewalk with an impatient looking coachman, whose eyes darted between you and the watch in his breast pocket.

“do you women not know how to tell time?” he spat, and you gave him a narrowed side glance.

“it would do good on you to remember who your employer is, Mr. Busby.”

“that would be Mr. Riley, miss,” he shot back, opening the door for you nonetheless.

you ignored him but Yue-Yi didn’t.

“and you should remember that the miss is his lady,” she quipped, brow furrowed with a glare as she helped you up into the carriage.

that shut him up, grumbling something under his breath you couldn’t be bothered with as you slid into the leather carriage, Yue-Yi flush at your side as the coachman snapped the reins, horses taking off over the bumpy cobblestone road.

with a sigh, you said to her, “we ought to buy one of those fancy model t’s after today.”

she choked a laugh, clasping her hand with yours as you watched the passing scenery with a smile, though it didn’t last for long, melting from your face with every passing minute—every minute the distance between you and Simon closed.

the one-four-one mansion neared on the twinkling horizon, a good time’s travel from the inner boroughs of the sprawling city, far away enough from commotion where you could hear the soft drag and pulls of the ocean lapping at the shores. the mansion sat just near a cliff overlooking the pacific ocean.

the first night you had stayed for a formal event with important stockholders and other prominent figures involved in the family business, you had laid stock still in the ginormous bed, buried beneath blankets and thick, expensive furs, listening to the lulling roar of the ocean crashing against the cliff rocks through the open windows. a breeze danced through the room, brushing against your cheek so real and strong it felt like skin against your own.

blinking open your eyes, you saw Simon by the edge of the bed, his hand brushing over your cheek and hair in a mess like he had just awoken. without a word, he clambered into your bed, snaking beneath the blankets and pressed to you, bare skin hot to the touch and soaked through with sweat.

some words of concern had left you, some words you had forgotten now as you sat in the carriage, some words he had smothered with a sweet kiss. a kiss that you returned as you pushed him onto his back, shimmying out of your nightgown and undergarments with a practiced ease before straddling him, rolling your hips against him to pull gentle groans from his throat.

you leaned down to pepper kisses over his skin, sucking along his neck and his sharp jaw. then, with an earth shattering reminder of just how strong he is, he tugged your hips up his body till you hovered above his watering mouth, hot breath against your swollen cunt.

with a squeak of confusion, you had gripped at the fluffy pillows above his head, meeting his dark gaze as he pulled your pussy flush to his lips, guiding your hips over his face as he devoured your cunt, suckling your clit into his mouth till you were a shaking, crying mess.

it was strange and felt too dirty but your neediness betrayed you, just wanting more and more of him. even when he flipped you over, pliant and weak from a strong orgasm, and stretched your tight cunt open with his thick cock and low comforting words. 

good girl. my sweet little angel, my sweet little slut. just f’me, all f’me.

you weren’t sure why it always ended up like this exactly—somehow tangled in each other’s bed and desperate for skin against skin, tongue and lips on each other, and his low throaty whispers in your ear that sent you reeling over the edge every time with breathy, pitched whines and his fingers rubbing addictive little circles into your clit.

shivering at the memory with a hot flush of embarrassment, you pressed your thighs together, taking your embroidered fan and flapping it at your face as the coachman drew the carriage up the drive-way to the mansion, the butler and servants lined along the extravagant entrance of the victorian mansion.

just beyond them, one-four-one filed out the doors of the mansion, Soap striding up to the carriage with a loud greeting. the coachman opened the door for you but Soap waved him away, outstretched his hand to you with a rugged smile.

you took it, holding the hem of your dress up as you stepped to the ground.

“yer a sight for sore een, bonnie,” he said with a big grin and you choked a laugh.

“sore what?” you asked as he kissed your hand brusquely, not elaborating as he moved to help Yue-Yi out the carriage as well.

you walked up the steps of the entrance, John and Kate calling out to you in greeting. your eyes darted over Gaz and Simon, looking like a pair of twin statues with the way their arms were crossed over their chests and a stoic look pinched their face.

you bit back a scoff, letting Kate pull you into a soft hug as John looked down at you with an affectionate smile, hands clasped behind his back. turning to Gaz, he gave you a curt nod which you returned.

eyes sliding to Simon’s, his arms dropped to his sides, hands clenching and unclenching, lips parting like he was going to say something, but Yue-Yi materialized at your back in an instant, and his mouth closed, jaw clenched.

“Yue-Yi,” he greeted with a nod. she just tilted her head in response, a menacing scowl twisting her lips.

the look they shared passed something between them that you couldn’t decipher—like a silent argument ensued in the air between them before he let out a low huff, sending you a lingering look, before he followed one-four-one into the mansion.

promptly, you turned to Yue-Yi.

“what was that?” you probed, and she completely ignored you, pushing you into the mansion with an impatient, hushed reminder that you were late.

you bit back your frustration, letting yourself be led by the butler to the banquet table stacked with half-eaten food and empty bottles of whiskey and wine, the vaqueros loud laughter and chatter filling the cavernous dining room. they all stood at your presence, which you protested with a startled squeak, sitting down in an plush chair near the head of the table where John sat, and right beside Simon.

Simon pushed in your chair with an ease, face blank as he plopped in the seat next to you, lacking manners when he leaned an elbow on the table, a tense silence filling the space between you.

desperately, you ignored it, grateful that Yue-Yi flanked your other side, and looked down to the other end where Alejandro, Rudolfo, Kate, and Maria sat, a raucous laughter and chatter ensued. it filled the whole room with an expanding joy that you rode—joining in on a few conversations across the table, hyper aware of the quiet, hulking man beside you sharing low murmurs with John and Gaz.

his hand crept over to the arm of your seat, long fingers hanging off the edge where he rested his forearm, fingertips barely brushing over your thigh. you shot him a look from your peripheral, but he was still braced against his other forearm, leaning over to speak in John’s ear, his face furrowed as he nodded along to Simon’s words.

across the table, Soap piled your plate with food, one hand spooning out generous portions from different platters and the other tipping back a glass of whiskey into his mouth.

with a sheepish laugh, you thanked him, happy to finally have a meal after such a long, exhausting day.

you took a big spoonful of mashed potatoes, chewing happily when a vaquero across the table pointed out you got some on the corner of your lips with a mix of sign language and a couple words in english. embarrassed you swiped at it, but he just laughed, saying something in spanish as he smiled at you.

then, you recognized him—his twinkling brown eyes and gentle smile, tanned skin, dark slick backed hair that parted and curled around his ears. handsome in a soft, pretty way.

“it’s you!” you exclaimed, happy to see a familiar face.

he nodded, pointing to himself. “i am Javier.”

“your name is Javier?” 

he nodded again, then pointed at you. “you are Angel.”

with a blush, you shifted in your seat, changing the subject quickly. “how are you?”

when he looked confused, you tried to rephrase, “how are you feeling? good? bad?”

his let out an ah, eyes twinkling as he leaned forward in his seat. “good.”

then, he tilted his head. “escuche que eres la chica de Ghost. pero ya no lo parece.”

he was looking you up and down. “te ves tan bonita esta noche, Angel.”

his words were hushed, just loud enough so that only you could hear. there was a different, more intimate tone in them that had the heat in your cheeks just thickening.

“what?” you choked and his smile only widened.

you looked to Yue-Yi beside you, locked in conversation with someone on her other side, growing uncomfortable under the vaquero’s curious, lingering gaze.

you had thought that no one had heard when a strong arm had curled around your waist, dragging your entire chair across the floor with a screech so you were flush to his side.

“¿todavia parece que no es mia cabron?” Simon’s words were a low snarl that carried through the room and cut through the end of the other table. immediately, the room quieted, and Alejandro’s eyes darted up from his conversation, the smile melting off his face.

with a deadly amount of leisure, Simon threw his revolver on the table, eyes a glare full of challenge at Javier. you stared at the hard lines of his face and panicked, knowing he’d hold to whatever word he had just delivered if it was something as trivial as his male ego being threatened. especially if he thought you were being threatened.

when Javier reached for his own revolver beneath the table, you threw up a hand, standing to shield Simon.

“wait—!”

but Alejandro beat you to it. “Javier.”

Javier looked down the table at his leader that stood, hunched over and knuckles pressed against the table. Alejandro shook his head lightly, and Kate heaved a sigh, her cutlery clattering against her plate as she put them down.

“here they go again,” she grumbled distantly, blue eyes flashing when they met yours.

after a long pause, Javier finally leaned back into his chair with a huff, then turned his gaze to you once more.

“debo haberme equivocado. lo siento Angel.”

the smile on his face was deceptively soft, eyes never leaving your wide ones as he spoke, and Simon’s grip only tightened on your waist.

“Javier,” Alejandro repeated, sounding impatient, though Javier’s gaze on you was unflinching.

for a long, terrible, twisted moment, you watched Simon’s hand twitch by his revolver before it curled into a fist, and he sat back against his chair with a thud and a low grunt. finally, Javier looked away, and you sunk back into your chair, gasping a breath you didn't know you were holding.

at that, Alejandro straightened and held a bottle of whiskey up into the air with a smile.

“no need to fight my brothers and sisters. we’re here to celebrate our victory, vaqueros and vaqueras!”

at that, the table cheered and resumed its festivities, retopping their drinks with a tipsy hand so that their drinks fizzed over with liquid that soaked into the tablecloth. then, Alejandro gestured his bottle to you, meeting your eyes, mouthing out the words so that only you and Simon could see.

“to the devil and his angel.”

he took a big swing of the whiskey bottle, and the muddled feeling in you only sunk, jolting when Simon pressed his lips to your ear.

“sit in my lap,” he commanded and you shot him a glare.

“you haven’t talked to me all night,” you hissed under your breath and he narrowed his eyes at you.

“you haven’t either,” he countered, which you thought was rather immature as you looked up at him with a pinched expression.

with a little yelp, you jolted when his hand lazily slid around your throat. “and i wasn’t asking, princess.”

swallowing hard, you let him pick you up and drop you in his lap, curling both arms around you in a vice, chin tucked over your shoulder. you told yourself, chanted to yourself, that you were doing it to prevent any further bloodshed already spilled between the men and women of the room, your eyes darting over Kate and Maria flush together at the end of the table.

you clutched at Simon’s strong arms, leaning back into his massive body, turning your cheek so that your forehead was against his jaw, closing your eyes.

“sleepy?” he offered, voice gruff in your ear. gently, he kissed the lobe of your ear, and a resolute ache wracked your chest.

you realized, in his arms, this was the first time in multiple days since he had held you. you reached back to clutch at his neck, sinking into him.

“mhmm,” you hummed, grateful that Gaz and John ignored the pair of you in their own conversation.

then, he kissed your neck softly. “i can take you to bed.”

the suggestiveness of his words don’t go unnoticed. “now?”

“no one will say anythin’,” he promised, already pushing you off his lap softly. even if half the table watched you disappear through the rooms of the mansion with Simon’s arm wrapped around your waist, you found yourself completely uncaring, just nuzzling closer into him.

once you were both completely out of sight, he hooked an arm under your knees and carried you up the stairs and into a random room shrouded with darkness, the blankets and furs soft against your back when he laid you out over a bed.

you watched him undress in silence, undoing his vest and then his button up before you heard the clink of a belt in the dark and his dress pants dropped to the floor. he crawled over to you, completely bare for your greedy eyes.

“let me?” he asked softly, finger hooking in the low collar of your evening gown, and you nodded, letting him sit you up and unbutton the back of your dress. you tugged it over your head, uncaring that it crumpled the fabric, and flipped your hair over your shoulder, turning so you offered your back to him.

when he made no move to your corset, you sent him a confused look over your shoulder, lips parting at the sight of him breathing shallow, and swollen, veiny cock pressed against his thigh.

he edged forward with a low curse, kissing your shoulder as he untied your corset expertly, too expertly now, with a clumsy rush, your breasts bouncing when he practically ripped the thing from your torso.

a gasp escaped you when he bound an arm around your chest, kneading at your breast while his other hand tugged at the hem of your drawers. you lifted your hips, awkwardly shimmying out of them in his tight hold. he tore it the rest of the way down, and you chided him with disapproval that he ignored, arms squeezing you tight to his muscled, warm chest.

you could feel his feverish cock pressed into the curve of your ass, and you reached down blindly to stroke him but he grumbled out something like a no, burying his face into your hair and neck as he just held you there in that awkward position.

you clutched at his arms, feeling the muscled strength of them tense beneath your touch. “Simon?”

he hummed distantly, pressing pleasant kisses to your skin.

“i need to show you something,” he said, untangling himself from your body for a brief moment to step away and search for something on the floor. he took something from the pocket of his discarded pants, silvery and shiny in the dim light as he crawled back onto the bed and pulled you flush to him once more.

he looped both arms in front of your chest, the silver thing dangling in the air in front of your face.

you gasped at the sight of the pink jewel embedded in an ornate silver casing—dazzling even in the low light. it wasn’t unlike Simon to bring you back trinkets and small mementos from his travels, though they were always discrete, left on your nightstand after an intimate night, or the kitchen table in your apartment. 

this was the first time he had directly presented you with something so romantic.

with a content hum at your reaction, he clasped it around your neck, pulling your hair out from under the silver chain, pressing his lips along the necklace against your skin. the contrast between its cold metal and his hot kisses left you shivering.

“what is it?” you asked in wonder, clutching at the jewel against your chest.

“pink tourmaline,” he slurred against your skin. you met his half-lidded gaze from over your shoulder.

“s’my birthstone,” he said, voice deceptively soft as he reached around to toy with it in your fingers. a heat slithered down to your core, and you had to clench your thighs together to stave off the aching pressure of it.

the act was so possessive it left you hot with delirium.

physically branding you as his, a happy voice sung in your somewhere, though the logic of your mind swatted at it, reminding you this wasn’t how you wanted it.

you bit down on your lip, feeling conflicted as you stared down at the jewel in his fingertips.

when you didn’t respond to him, Simon gently pressed you onto your back, sliding over your body to study your face with a blank expression.

“what’s wrong, lovely? you don’t like it?”

you shook your head, reaching up to cup his cheek. “no. i like it. it’s just…”

he tilted his head, eyes flitting down to your exposed, swollen breast from his kneading, then up again.

“fuck me,” you offered, and his face pinched, pulling back from your touch so he sat back on his haunches.

“what’re you not tellin’ me, lovely?” he asked, angling your chin down so you were looking right into his dark eyes.

you swallowed hard. “Konig came and talked to me.”

he stiffened, grip on your chin tightening as he frowned. “he didn’t touch you, did he?”

“no,” you said, clutching at his wrist, “he told me that he wanted to stay in the city for me.”

with as much honesty as you could muster, you told him, “i realized that i care about him more than i believed.”

his hand dropped from your face, jaw clenched as a new void look swept through his expression, which left you icy inside and out.

“you want to tell me that you love him?” there was such a strain in his voice that it didn’t sound like his own.

“no,” you said immediately, and the tight bunch of his shoulders dropped. “i want...”

that voice in your head screamed and you tried to bury it but it came out wracking and loud. you screwed your eyes shut. 

you Simon, it screamed. i want you. you wanted him so bad it was soul-crushing. you wanted him so bad you’d rather deny yourself of the need, ignore him endlessly, if it meant that he wouldn’t… reject you.

those same, sharp questions pierced finally broke the barricade of your mind. could you ever hope for Simon to be yours? would he ever think you an equal? was it more than the power balance you felt it to be?

you looked into his stoic face.

“i want to start over.”

he tilted his head, voice rough. “start over.”

you nodded. “i’m a business woman. i’m a murderer. i’ve done awful things. i’m not innocent anymore.” 

you held your breath, hoping with all your might he would believe your words. you were so, so, so very afraid that he cared for a girl that you weren’t anymore.

you are a woman now, Yue-Yi had said to you with wonder after your reunion in san francisco, marveled that you had survived the harrowing gang war. 

he edged closer to you, creeping over you so his body bowed down to your own. his hands slid up to your cheeks, holding your face as he brushed his thumb over your cheek. his dark eyes flitted between yours. 

you pressed on. “let’s do everything over. no more secrets. retell me ones i’ve already learned.”

when he was silent, you reached up to gently hold his face in your palms in return.

“the one i love is you,” you admitted, amazed at how the weight slid right from your shoulders into some intangible pit below, just how it had been that noon with Konig.

you searched his eyes, finding nothing changed in them after your words. just Simon’s brown eyes. still just Simon. the clarity in that realization was like finally finding a foothold after months of free fall.

“you’ve changed Angel,” he said, quietly, like he was in awe.

your breath hitched. “is that bad?”

“‘course not. is this what you’ve been worrying your pretty little head about for months?”

you frowned. “yes.”

his whole body relaxed, easing down to trap you beneath his muscled body. “i thought you were rethinkin’ about marrying me.”

you winced, because in all technicality you were, but not because you were doubting him. you were doubting all of the unreliable circumstances that danced around the two of you.

he said softer, “i thought you didn’t want me anymore.”

“i want you more than anything,” you squeaked and he cocked his head. 

only you could decipher it as the silent question that it was. then why’d you do all that to me?

your breath hitched, the guilt of neglecting him like a crashing, icy wave splashing over you. or, rather, you had neglected yourself.

“i can’t explain it,” you choked and he rubbed a hand over your chest.

“take your time Angel.”

shimmering tears glossed your eyes, and you said quicker than you thought, “i wanna be equals.”

the slow, soothing circles he drew against your chest stopped. “equals?”

“i wanna be more than this,” you said, clutching at the jewel on your chest, hoping with every fiber of your being that he understood.

more than the once innocent and naive girl he kidnapped.

but he was just silent for a long moment, eyes darting between your face and the little jewel, and you made a strangled noise of frustration.

“i want you to be mine, too,” you admitted, so embarrassed by the proposition that you couldn’t look at him.

when his silence just continued, your eyes darted over to meet his, face void of anything perceptible before he suddenly smothered a laugh, pressing a fist to his lips and twisting away so you couldn’t see his face.

“what—”

you scrambled up to see him keeled over by the edge of the bed, his shoulders shaking with laughter.

“Simon!” you shouted, kicking at his shoulder to get him to quit it, but that only goaded him on. 

with a sniffle, you wiped at the tears in your eyes and scrambled from the bed, standing up to stomp out of the room. even if you were naked and all, you didn’t care.

“don’t even try to run away,” he growled between laughter, winding an arm around your waist and pulling you back so you fell back against his chest with a yelp, fighting him as he wrestled you back down to the bed.

when your cheek was pressed against the mattress, back arched and ass pressed to his hips, you slumped with defeat and he let out a low, approving hum, laughter finally subsiding as he bent over you to nose at the crown of your head.

once he settled above you, he hummed again, an iron grip around both of your forearms that were pressed to the bed. he kneed your thighs apart, cunt spread and presented to him in the most indecent way possible. 

you shuddered, a burning heat in your tummy.

“silly girl,” he murmured, hips sliding forward to press his leaking cock into the softness of your inner thigh.

you gasped, squirming around in his grip, trapped beneath him.

“my cock was made for this pretty pussy,” he rasped, low enough that it sent goosebumps across your skin, a little whimper torn from your lips. 

“made for you,” he emphasized, picking up a hand that pinned down your forearm.

you looked down between your quivering legs, watching him wrap a large hand around his length and pump his cock a couple times before lining up with your entrance.

“already?” you whined, shaking at the feeling of his drooling tip pushing through your gooey folds.

“you can take it can’t you?” he cooed softly, leaning down to press a messy kiss to your cheek.

of course you could, you wanted to say, but the memory of how the stretch of your cunt around his big cock burned even when he prepared you made you tremble.

but that didn’t stop you from wiggling your hips back into him, wanting him to just slide in already, the wetness of your cunt hot and unbearable. you couldn’t keep from whimpering against the sheets for him.

at your meek display of submission, he whispered in a low, throaty tone, “good girl.”

slowly, he pressed his cock into your unstretched cunt, smothering your cries against the blankets. you screwed your eyes shut, tears slipping down your cheeks as you half-sobbed.

Simon smoothed a hand down your spine, his other hand going between your thighs to circle at your aching clit as he plunged further in.

“hurts,” you whined and he hummed, kissing your shoulder blade.

“want me to stop?” he offered softly, but you immediately shook your head, wanting to please him.

always wanting to please him.

“you’re perfect,” he purred against your skin, bullying the last thick inches of his base into your pussy till he was flush against your ass.

lingering there for a moment, letting the sharp burn subside as you sniffled against the sheets and he peppered kisses all down your neck and back, fingers still massaging your swollen clit.

“needed this so bad,” he admitted, hot breath against your back making your shiver, “needed this pretty little, tight cunt so bad.”

the first snap of his hips punched the breath from your lungs, the rest leaving you gasping, breathless, and mind dizzy as he fucked you. rough. rougher than you felt in a long time.

punishing, you thought dreamily as his hand reached around your throat and squeezed periodically to keep you from passing out.

his hips slammed against your ass, growling out low grunts that coupled with your breathy hiccups in the quiet of the room. it had you delirious and out of your mind, thick tears rolling down your cheeks and pooling at the mattress below.

when he stopped abruptly, hips flush to the back of your thighs that stung from repetitive impact, he manhandled you onto your back, twisting you on his cock as he draped your legs over your shoulders, bending you in half and ignoring your little whimpers as he continued to fuck you relentlessly.

when his hand snaked up to your throat again, you thought he’d give you those delicious little squeezes that had your cunt throbbing and aching, but he wrapped his fingers around your necklace instead, pressing the jewel of it into your throat.

his head was tilted, eyes predatory and clouded beyond recognition. 

“pretty,” he snarled, fingers digging into your cheek to keep you still as he pressed more messy kisses to your face as you whimpered.

not punishing, you realized, choking out a sob when he slammed deep into that sweet spot in you, possessive.

so possessive that it made your head spin, clit twitching for his attention, your hips bucking up into his rough movements as you whined for his touch desperately.

“touch yourself,” he commanded roughly, and you sobbed out a thank you, running a hand down your stomach to rub at it—but it just wasn’t as good as the rough pads of his fingers that knew exactly how you liked it.

whining again, he chided you with a tsk, leaning down to shut you up with a hot, wet kiss, tongue invading your mouth as he pushed your hand aside. he pressed his thumb against your needy clit, fingers splayed across your stomach as he abused the pebbled bud to perfection.

“oh, Simon,” you gasped into his full lips, watching the silvery scar of his upper lip stretch when he smiled, malicious and pupils blown wide.

“hm? tha’ good, baby?” 

“yeah,” you choked out, more tears running down your face when you screwed your eyes shut. he kissed them away with a softness that made you melt, curling into his touch, taking and loving every one of his rough thrusts that drove you a little further up the bed. 

so far that he held up a hand against it, broad and big body towering over your small, shaking one, dwarfed by him in the darkness.

he groaned, little strings of praise leaving his lips. “so perfect takin’ me, Angel. so small and tight and takin’ it all.”

you nodded, gasping for breath as your fingers twisted in the sheets, overwhelmed 

“this cock yours? hm?” he goaded, and you just kept nodding through your hiccuped gasps, hands running up his strong arms to sink your nails into his shoulders, tugging him down to you with a whine.

he relented, dropping down to squish you beneath his heavy weight, your thighs almost pressed to your ears as he fucked his thick cock into you, your eyes rolling back when you felt it throb inside you.

“tell me m’yours,” he growled in your ear, and you moaned, snaking a hand into his hair to pull at its roots and quell the crashing pleasure wracking your body with little overstimulated shakes.

“you’re mine,” you squeaked back, and he chuckled low in your ear, talking you through an orgasm with throaty murmurs.

good girl. come for me now. wanna watch your pretty face while you come. thaaas’ it, pretty thing, come f’me, come f’me—

and you did, every one of his words spurring you closer to the edge, thrown over it when he snuck a hand around your throat and squeezed, the cold metal of your necklace digging into your skin.

it was too much, and you came so hard you saw white, throaty groans in your ear as you came down from the high, Simon’s thrusts slower and more affectionate.

“did so well f’me,” he cooed, and you nodded weakly, still clutching at his hair as your body continued to shake.

“think you can do it again?” he asked softly and you immediately shook your head.

“no,” you sniffled, but he pressed his lips against your hair, a telling smile twisted them and you whimpered, knowing exactly what that meant.

you gasped when he suddenly pulled out of you, feeling light and airy and cold from the weightless absence of him. dizzy, you picked up your head, blinking your eyes against the darkness, pacified when he leaned down and enveloped your lips with his warm ones, movements slow and soft when he flipped you to straddle his hips.

you leaned against his chest, feeling just as woozy and dizzy as he angled your hips, dripping length pushing through your folds and catching against your sensitive clit.

“i think you can, lovely,” he said, thumb rubbing soothing circles into your hip. “can you try? f’me?”

you sniffled, sending him a pout that just made the smug look on his face stretch.

“want you to use me,” he rasped, eyes darting down to where his cock was nestled between the wet folds of your entrance—sopping with your orgasm and the pearly white liquid that rolled from the tip of his cock.

you whined, grinding down on him, feeling that needy thrum between your thighs again, and he hummed approvingly, guiding his cock back into the waiting clutch of your heat.

the position was unusual to you—so exposed in the cold air of the room, begetting you a whole new berth of control that you were unsure what to do with when you sunk down on him, watching his blonde lashes flutter as his eyelids drooped, sighing out a heavy breath.

once you were settled flush to his hips, you gasped, head tilted back and eyes wide at how deep the head of him nudged against that gummy crook of your inside that ached and keened for stimulation. 

“Simon,” you gasped, unsure what to do.

he placed two hands on your hips, dragging your hips up so just the tip of him was at your entrance, before spearing you back down.

you gasped when the head of his cock pressed right against that sweet spot again, and you clutching at his big hands on your hips, picking your hips up before dropping back down onto him, the new pleasure blooming through your body.

“tha’ it,” he grunted, lolling his head back into the pillows, watching your work his length with little breathy moans and gasps, “use this cock. s’all yours.”

you whined at that, whimpering a little, “mine” as you peered down at him through half-lidded eyes.

“mhmm,” he affirmed, using his thumb to play with your aching clit, “m’all yours, princess.”

a moan escaped your lips as you tipped your head back, riding him slow and sensual to your own pleasure, letting it overwhelm you with loud keens of pleasure, head spinning at the thick, pulsing cock between your legs.

all yours, your mind chanted, reaching up to pinch at your own sensitive nipples and whimpering at the sensation that mixed into all the others, watching Simon groan beneath you.

“such a dirty, corrupted little thing,” he grunted, thrusting up in time with your movements so he slammed a little deeper in you every time.

“gonna let me make you my pretty little wife, princess?” he asked, voice so soft as he cupped your cheek.

you nodded incessantly, babbling incoherent words and little pleas as you leaned forward on his chest, another orgasm rushing closer and closer to you.

“gonna come?”

you nodded again, pitched little whimpers the only sound you could push from your lips as he snapped his hips up, taking over the weak, shallow movement of your hips, thighs burning from the effort.

your whole body turned to jello, muscles going lax as you collapsed over him, core convulsing with sweet, delicious pulses that blissed you out, a roar of static in your ears as you screwed your eyes shut with a broken sob.

you hadn’t even realized your cheek was pressed to Simon’s chest till you were coming down from the intensity of it, mind still buzzing with overstimulation, as you just listened to his lulling breaths against your hair and the slow swells of his chest.

he brushed his fingers up your back. “alright, lovely?”

you nodded with a contented hum against his bare chest, tracing the mottled scars of his body softly.

you only noticed his throbbing, hard length still flush to that sweet spot in you when he bucked his hips up, and a surprised moan left your lips. 

“can i?” he asked, lifting your hips softly to slide his cock out the tight clutch of your cunt.

you weren’t sure of what he was asking for till he perched your leg up, wrapping a hand around himself and stroking, tip pressed right up against the rim of your entrance.

you moaned at the sight, craning your head back to look at the quick swipe of his hand twisting around his cock, hips bucking up in an irregular pattern that made you dizzy. 

he twitched beneath you every time slapped the head of his cock against your clit, making you mewl out with sensitivity, turning your head back to him, finding his dark, clouded eyes already on you.

he picked his head up in a silent offering that you took, kissing him with a delirious need, needing him to do something, needed him to come.

“need it,” you whimpered, grinding your hips down against the head of his cock, and his hips bucked with a low groan against your tongue.

“fuck,” he grunted, forehead pressed to yours, “you don’t even know what you’re asking for.”

that only left you confused, brow furrowed as you traced your fingers over his neck and collarbones, scratching lightly over the skin just to hear his breath go shallow.

“need you to come in me,” you begged, whining at the very thought of his hot, milky spend spilling into your cunt, not knowing why you needed it, just that you did.

he groaned loud, hips bucking up into his hands a few more times till he held the head of his cock right against your entrance and came all over your pussy lips, splashing them with a hot, goopy liquid as you whimpered, grinding down on the feeling.

you were half tempted to sheath himself back into your cunt, but his fingers already beat you to it, slithering down your stomach to curl up into your entrance. you gasped as he pushed the spend in you, hot and slimy and just as you had imagined as you ground down on his fingertips.

“this what you needed?” he asked, voice hazy and distant. you blinked up at him, his head lolled against the pillows with a lazy smirk.

shifting up you pecked his lips, humming as he fucked his fingers into you, spreading his spend within you. he pecked your nose in return.

“good.”

then, his fingers were sliding out your cunt, leaving you empty and cold after the accumulated sweat on your body had dried. but his arms were warm as he wrapped you in his embrace, turning you over to crush you beneath him again, just where you belonged.

stretching out beneath him, you winced at the sting between your thighs.

“sore?” he asked, reaching down to cup your cunt, and you swatted at his hand with a flush.

“s’your fault,” you said with a pout.

he just thumbed at your lower lip that jutted out, and you playfully bit down on it, satisfied when you saw a little smile on his lips.

“i promise i’ll stretch you nice and good beforehand next time. with a couple orgasms too,” he purred in your ear, and you only flushed deeper, hiding it under an indignant nod and a little hmph.

“but that won’t be happenin' for a while, pretty,” he said, rolling off you to sit at the edge of the bed.

when you sent him a quizzical look, beseeching him to come back and keep you warm, he just shook his head.

“s’improper while courting.”

you stiffened against the sheets, dropping your hand back down to your side. then, your eyes narrowed. “since when do you care about that kind of bullshit?”

he just bellowed a laugh, standing, tall and broad and stretching his compressed muscles in the open air. your eyes dropped beneath his hips, taking in the hair along his naval and his softening cock with a greediness.

tipping your knees open suggestively, you bared your intimates to him, and his eyes honed in on the messy mix of wetness caking your lower body.

“don’t do that,” he said, low and threatening as his eyes darted back up to your own, tongue sliding along his lower lip.

you couldn’t help but swallow at the sight of him, splaying yourself suggestively over the bed to entice him back. he just turned on his heel with a scoff, muttering something like insatiable beneath his breath before he walked off somewhere into the spacious room.

with the whiz of a match, you saw a space on the opposite of the bedroom bloom with light as he lit candles inside the bathroom.

in the meantime, you burrowed beneath the blankets and soft furs, humming with content at the warmth, brow furrowing when you felt them being pulled off your. with closed eyes, you felt Simon lift your leg, gently wiping your thighs and the sensitive place between them with a warm cloth, making you jolt at the sensation. 

he pressed an apologetic kiss to your shoulder before the blankets were on you again and there was the sound of rustling, footsteps in the distance, the rush of water, footsteps nearing you, and more rustles when Simon slid into the bed behind you.

you turned onto your back to blink your eyes lazily at him, seeing him propped up on his side against the pillows and looking down at you. you smiled, tracing along his jaw and the silvery scar on his upper lip before he stooped down to kiss you with an intensity, tongue softly brushing against yours, before he pulled away again.

“do that again,” you commanded and with a huff he complied, kissing you so hard it made you dizzy.

“better?” he asked with a relaxed look on his face, reaching around you to play with your necklace.

“mhmm.”

you clutched at his wrist. “this my first courting gift?”

he let it drop against your skin, snaking two arms around you to pull you flush to his chest. it was warm and inviting. exactly where you belonged. exactly where Simon belonged.

“naturally.”

you smothered a smile, slithering your hand over his bound around your waist, intertwining your fingers together. he nuzzled against you with a hum, yawning right by your ear like a big cat. 

“it was my last effort at failing to court you for months,” he admitted softly, breathing in the scent of your hair and skin shamelessly. you swatted at him, giggling at his ticklish breaths on your skin.

“leaving things around my apartment was courting?” you asked with a snort, and he grunted against your neck.

“i don’t know how it works,” he grumbled, and you drew lazy patterns across the veins of his muscled forearm.

“i could’ve taught you,” you sighed, remembering how your mama had described your daddy’s courting process.

Simon’s prolonged silence goaded you, and you began, “supposed to have a chaperone. first, you talk to her parents, gain their approval to pursue her, then—”

“i know all that,” he interjected, sounding sheepish. it was the first time you heard him so flustered, but you decided not to push him when you could feel him frown against your hair.

squirming around in his arms, he loosened his hold enough so that you could turn, taking in the strained look on his face. you pecked the corners of his scowl, willing it away, but it didn’t relent.

“then,” you said, brushing his brow with your fingers, “you fix a date to court her in front of her family.”

his scowl just deepened and you huffed a laugh.

“court me in front of Yue-Yi,” you offered, letting your head sink into the pillows, a droop pulling on your eyelids.

“i don’t want to,” he countered and you rolled your eyes.

“she’s the only family i’ve got besides one-four-one,” you said, stifling a yawn, “unless you wanna court me in front of John.”

he nodded slowly, like he was being thoughtful. “that could work.”

you scoffed, letting your eyes slide shut. “unbelievable.”

his fingers traced along your bare spine. “i’ve gotta tell you somethin’, lovely.”

“hm?” you prompted, tilting your head into the pillow like you were listening.

“i did ask your parents for permission.”

you stilled in his arms, breaths growing shallow, waiting for him to explain. when he didn’t, you pressed him.

“and?”

when his silence was only prolonged, you blinked your eyes open, lazily looking up at the serious look pinching his face.

“your mother was shot by one of Turner’s men in the street. it was a mess. don’t know how she got there, or where your father was. just hauled her down an alley and tried to save her.”

your heart swelled so big that it cinched your esophagus, and you found it hard to breathe around the beating appendage in your throat. 

“in her dyin’ moments, she asked me if i had done somethin’ to you.” he screwed his eyes shut, a pained look crossing his face.

“i told her that i had, but that i cared about you more than anythin’. i promised i’d marry you and be a good, faithful husband.”

gripping his jaw lightly, you shimmied up in his arms to press a kiss to his lips that he didn’t return, dark eyes flitting over your face.

“i think she wanted to kill me,” he admitted softly, and you just gave him a wry smile.

“sounds like my mama,” you said, trying to ease the pained look on his face, heart sinking when his scowl only strengthened.

“i tried to save her,” he said, voice gruff and brows pinched together, “i promise.”

you nodded, brushing your hands over his face, willing all of his pain away. “i believe you.”

he closed his eyes with a frustrated huff. “m’terrible at courting.”

you would’ve laughed if it weren’t for the dark roil of deep disapproval coming off him in waves.

“we didn’t exactly have a practical start,” you reminded him, thinking back to months ago. when it was the heat of a dusty summer and he was waltzed into your daddy’s saloon like he owned it, snatching your heart just at the first sight of his brown eyes behind the bloody layer of his glittering mask.

you could barely remember how it looked after it so long. you took in the handsome planes of his face just to remind yourself that you could.

“you deserve more,” he grumbled, still not looking at you. instead, you kissed his eyelids softly.

“stop it,” you chided, patting his cheek hard enough to make his eyes snap open.

“i only want you,” you said, enjoying the way his expression went sweet and gooey at your words, a sleepy smile on his lips, “there is no more or less.”

“this is it,” he said, voice soft as he pressed your foreheads together.

“this is it,” you sighed, curling your arms around his neck, letting your eyes close once more.

goosebumps rose where his fingers danced across your skin, picking up the ends of your hair against your collarbone and playing with it gently.

“marry me,” he offered, hooking a finger beneath the silver chain of your new necklace, rattling when he tugged on it.

“i do,” you sighed, letting him kiss you softly before his warm touch was pulling you down into a heavy slumber.

translations: — te ves tan bonita esta noche, Angel = you look so pretty tonight, angel — escuche que eres la chica de Ghost. pero ya no lo parece = i heard you're Ghost's girl. but it doesn't seem that way anymore —¿todavia parece que no es mia cabron? = does she still look like she’s not mine, bastard?

anyway! next up.... wedding scene 🌚 unless.... jkjk unless............. 👁️👁️ jk (unless...)

taglist: @poohkie90 @kunikku @tomiesdiet @silverianni @doublesuicidewithme @cliosunshine @one17 @mr-sol @warenai @saturnknows @migueloharaapologist2 @keiva1000 @kenma-izhu @lilvampirina @deltottoro @maki-z @leeeenistop @danika1994 @stillinracooncity @saevitiaa @itsalwaysbetternottoknow @karagd13-blog @nattywatty @oyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoyaoya @havoc973 @mentallynot-here @aqua7ofana @ccerviee @haleidontknow @imjusttheretofightforlove @moonstonedeluluera @tieflingteatime @syddieuh @savakewl @shinebright2000 @bakugo-apologist98 @queenie-b- @whenyoushipuponastar

[suguru-getos]

“they’ll kill you!” — “can they?”

satosugu x reader — cnc

warnings: cnc!, degradation, prone!bone, doggy, use of toys, clamps, spreader, spankings. aftercare <3 pls note that it’s not beta’d there might be typos xx 💋

you were tired as you returned from work, footsteps dragging across from the stairs to finally reach the bedroom of the sato-sugu estate. this was the least thrilling bit of your day, no one was home. satoru was busy with a mission & suguru was outside — doing you don’t know what. you don’t question the morality of your husband number two. you’ve learnt to let him be in his element, just like satoru.

opening the refrigerator, you found satoru’s mochi, suguru’s favorite soup & a little bit of leftovers from the morning lunch prepared by the chef. they’re also on leave & at this point you’re conflicted between using the ordering in app in your phone, or cooking something for yourself. a grunt escapes you as you weigh down the options and settle down on the marvelous wood sculpted chair of the dining table. scrolling aimlessly through the various restaurants to get something that you desire. fucking hell! why is ordering food such a daunting task! when satoru and suguru return, you’d bother them & be clingy endlessly just cause you miss their brainless bickering. satoru would be just as aimless like you, fumbling through the menu and debating on what to order… suguru would have the same thing eaten on repeat. so much so that it annoys the both of you.

speaking of — it goes without saying how many ‘enemies’ your husbands have. one is a special grade sorcerer, the other is a bloody cult leader. both of them jacked & bagged with heaps of copius amounts of money & status in their own ways. you’re their silly little wife, someone capable of becoming a sorcerer, someone who could see curses and cursed spirits, yet choosing a life like nanami kento. a life away from the wretched world of sorcery.

a thud, takes your attention away from your phone a bit. who could it be? there are cats in the estate which are regularly fed, it could be your son (your cat that you and your husbands cherish equally). you roll your eyes and go back to checking the menu. fuck this, if you don’t have any ideas on what to order, you will order some spicy cheesy ramen & get go with your day.

after placing the order, you dragged yourself to the bathroom to take a shower, it would be better before bed after all, sleeping in plush clean pillows and letting your body heat come down as the cold water would drench your worries away.

your phone vibrated before you could take another step to the bedroom, it was suguru, “oh hey…” you chirped, smiling over the phone. “hey darling, reached home?” he sounds cheerful, mostly when he hears your voice of course. you’ve noticed suguru talks to you in the most gentlest of ways; enough to sound patronising at times. you know its not his intention though… “yeah, just reached home. when are you n’ toru coming?” you pouted over the speaker, and he chuckled. “give me an hour or two and i’ll be right there, next to my beautiful angel. mm?” you gnaw at your lip, nodding gently, the realization coming later that he can’t really ‘see’ your response and you hummed, “yeah, come soon to me mkay?”

where were you again? ah… the shower…

the doorbell rang, your eyes instantly mingling with the lit screen of your watch as you turned your wrist. jeez, it had only been 15 minutes or so since you ordered, the food is here so soon? you checked your phone, and the order was still showing ‘preparing’ status. weird… who could it be?

you walked towards the entrance, and the knock was more powerful, almost angry sounding & impatient. “who’s there?” you raised a brow, sighing a little to gather your patience and also your wits.

no answer…

then, the door was knocked off the hinges, you shrieked almost, walking backwards and pupils moving in fear. what was even happening? there were two men, one of them had bangs and the other white haired and scary looking. he smirked, walking closer to you and holding your face instantly, squeezing your cheeks into a forced pucker. “dumb little thing can’t even open a door? jeez?” he chuckled, rolling his eyes.

the dude with bangs held his shoulder, a knowing, close-eyed smile. “leave it be, she must be their weakling of a wife, gojo.”

he nodded, “weakling indeed, look at how she’s cowering.” he chuckled, leaning in and licking a fat strip of your neck, from your collarbone to your ear. you wince, struggling and trying hard to push him away. “SWOP IT!” you whined, the grip on your cheek turning harder and making it difficult to sound coherent.

“swop it!” gojo mimicks you, pushing you a little as he lets you go. “ we were here to steal the cursed tools but we might as well do some cursed thingys, no?” he snickered, and you shake your head, nauseated as your heart raced and you leaned back, unlucky enough to be stopped by a wall.

“m-my husbands- will be home soon… if you really care about your lives then leave!” you sounded as intimidating as possible, trying so hard to evade the bone crushing anxiety that the two powerful men were giving. “of course, we’d be gone by then.” the man with bangs replied, ignoring you and looking around. “nice house, your husbands don’t care about you enough it seems, why else would they leave their little wife alone in such a looming, large place?”

“shut up! even if you leave they’d hunt you down and they’d find you! suguru can deploy curses that are exceptional in hunting people down.” you only have your husbands and their skills to protect you right now. “did you hear that geto? she’s so mouthy and has such an attitude, damn!”

“about time we show her the world isn’t a good place… also, with a body like that? she’s practically asking for it.” the black haired man — geto, chuckled, rolling his eyes and walking closer.

your mind was hazy by now, and all you could see was the corridor to make a run to. you do exactly that, and how stupid— it took gojo exactly four steps to catch up to you by your hair and chuckle at your screaming. “let me go! let me go!” you winced, letting your feet dragged back to the couch. “would be fun to ruin her at this point.” geto hums, crossing his arms & smirking at the way you shake your head no, pleading almost.

“in the same bed her bastard husbands make sweet sweet love to her.” gojo chuckles, “aww, don’t look at us like thaatt? i’m sure they would understand that boobs like that would get ya into trouble.” gojo winked, smirking.

“ass, too.” geto added, smirking gently.

“piss off and die, rot in hell and fucking die!” you snarled, tearing up at the way they talked about you. “can’t handle them mouthy tell ya that.” gojo sounded almost feigning apologetic, bringing out a handkerchief out from his pocket and holding both ends diagonally.

you were about to be gagged, terror seeped through your eyes as you shook your head. but geto was faster, immediately hindering all your resistance by keeping you locked. his hands quickly wrapping around your wrist and holding it behind your back, his legs wrapping around yours, spreading your thighs apart vulnerably.

"aw good one!" gojo comments, smirking and walking closer. "stop it, stop it right now!" you screeched, using your last chance to speak anything at all. gojo came closer, tying the handkerchief across the parting of your lips. only incoherent struggles and whines could escape you now.

"there we go, perfect little muzzled bitch." gojo chuckled, and you teared up at that statement, it was humiliating to have two men out here, having their way with you in the absence of your husbands. you hated the way it made you feel, how the proximity with geto was making your pelvis warm, and your insides... warm.

"she's crying... stop being so mean. maybe we can call satoru to help her? maybe he can coax and coddle her while we ruin her?" you widened your eyes at that insinuation, shaking your head no and muffled groans escaping you.

gojo chuckled, "aw, she wouldn't want that? why? scared they'd abandon you cause your insides changed shape to our cocks?" he smirked, "no worries sweetheart, we could hire you as our personal cocksleeve."

you glared at the man, not saying anything and saliva dribbling down your chin. "only if she's a good cocksleeve though" geto hums, shrugging. "don't get the special treatment if you're not good enough. or not tight enough."

"time to check!" gojo rubs his palms together, walking closer with eyes fucking you already. his hands are quick to rip off any clothing off of you, your cunt and your tits exposed to the two strangers and the cool air of the mansion.

it felt humiliating, all bare in front of two merciless, wolf like men who only want to ruin you. "would teach those two a lesson too, no?" geto mused and gojo nodded, "yeah, think they own the fuckin' world? now what? your wife knocked up by two strangers.."

"ruined, by two strangers." geto corrected gojo.

"ahhng- nn" you tried to manage to speak, unable to say anything coherent at all. only wiggling in resistance. you stop once you feel geto's semi nudge your ass though. this could do more harm than good.

"oh god she's grindin' already?" gojo smirked, walking closer and crossing his arms. "let's take her to the bedroom." they nodded, reaching that decision fast enough. when geto relents his hold on you, you're quick to hit his jaw with your head, feet landing aiming right at gojo's crotch. he holds your ankle and geto laughs, "couldn't even give me a nose-bleed, little one?"

you're the most terror-struck as you've ever been. you fucked up. pupils moving and heart racing. no way these two would let your silly little stunt go.

"she needs proper taming i'm telling you. like literally..." gojo laughs, almost looking impressed. "bend her over the couch."

"actually, i have a better plan" suguru muses, while your heart only gives out at the prospect of them discussing what to do with you. you hate how it's making you feel down there, and pretty sure they'd see that soon when your body betrays you.

gojo and geto only knowingly smile at each other, as if they were easily able to read the other's mind and they stride towards the bedroom. once you're placed on bed, this time gojo forces you on all fours, ignoring your whines and hand gripping your nape as he nails you to the bed. geto seems to be searching for toys you and your husbands indulge in from time to time.

he lets out an "aha!" when he finds them, smirking and taking out the clamps, the cuffs, the spreader, and the vibrator. your hands are cuffed behind your back and the spreader keeps your legs from closing. you are truly under their mercy now.

"mmgh mmf" you really wish you could do something, anything about it... "is that fucking cunt wet?" gojo is quick to dehumanize you for it, laughing. "don't tell me they've been pampering a slut as their wife?" it stings, his words sting and you close your eyes in disgust, a feeble attempt at closing your legs not gone unnoticed.

"why else would she be so embarrassed?" geto smirks. attaching the clamps to your nipples with some weights. satosugu have never tried the weights and the delicious tug on your tits only makes you whine more. he flicks the weights to let it jiggle like a pendulum and you cry out at the feeling. shuddering and whimpering at how your pussy clamps around nothing because of it.

"don't think this is enough, she needs proper punishment for trying to hit us." gojo scoffed, using the clamp right at your clit after testing it on his hand. you let out a surprised shriek, struggling with all your might against it, though you realize that would only worsen the ache in your tits. your pussy oozed out in your juices and fluttered as they bit your clit just right.

geto nods, slapping the fat of your bare ass with his hand, letting his handprint break out in a single hit. they really weren't playing around. every hit after that, makes you lurch forward, and makes the clamps wiggle and makes you cry out. gojo chuckles, watching your ass bruise with the spanking now. you lost count after ten, in your head, but you feel your mind float away, it's around 18 hits or so, that geto stops, when your whines and screams turn soft and dejected. when you give up.

you're so edged but the clamp on your clit wouldn't let you cum. "look at her, finally can't resist anymore?" he smirked, and upon not receiving a response, gojo tugs at your clit-clamp's chain a little. you cry out in pain, finally letting him remove the clamps altogether.

"yeah, finally someone's learnt how to behave." he smirked, and your whines turned into wheezing when the blood flow rushed back to your tits and clit, swathing you in a coughing fit as you choke on your spit. "oh jeez, calm down..." gojo scoffed, removing the gag from your mouth and watching the imprints of it on your face.

"you okay?" he's looking sympathetic and worried, and at the first chance of getting to speak again, you snap. "you're a fucking bastard with no manliness of your own, bet you don't even have a cock half as big as satoru"

he smirked again, chuckling and rolling his eyes. "the gag goes back on it seems." he looked at geto who shrugged, "no, let her scream when she realizes we're bigger and better than her husbands." before you could resist, you could feel the spread in your cunt lips from his fingers and the splitting apart sensation of his cock inside you.

crying out at the feeling, edged beyond belief, your cunt immediately hugs him down, his hand quick to un-do your cuffs and pulling you closer, letting your back collide against his chest as he drills your poor pussy apart, rutting without a single thread of restraint.

gojo only watches your breasts jiggle and jump at every thrust, leaning in and wrapping his warm mouth around the tortured, perked bud. his tongue languidly soothes over the bite mark of the clamp and he suckles, one hand pinching and kneading your tits to ensure the blood flow is back, the other rubbing circles at your clit. he undoes your spreader finally.

you moan like a whore indeed, this feels too good, you hate how good it feels and you despise how your senses are burning at this. the knot in your pelvis snaps and you gush all over geto's cock like a needy little girl, sending him reeling down also. you shake your head, the prospect of his warmth inside your cunt only makes you hate it further, "no- no no don't cum inside NO DON'T!" you cry out, shaking your head as his palm covers your mouth, muffling any cries as he churns your pussy by tucking and thrusting his load deeper.

you gasped and cried once geto finally comes to a halt. shoving you into a prone bone. "hey i'll take over, let her husbands discover a cum cocktail inside." gojo snickers, watching your body limping after the first orgasm as his cock shoves inside you easily, pistoning like a needy dog in a rut. the thrusts are powerful enough to feel like spanks of their own, and you only moan and whimper crudely; gritting your jaw at how amazing it feels and crumpling the mattress into your fists. this should not feel good... this should not feel this good. you're a cheater... your husbands would hate you.

"say what if they knew you had no problem cumming on our cocks?" geto chuckled watching you glance up at him teary eyed. "i hate this, i don't- AH" your sentences are reduced to moans already, and he chuckles.

the force on your tummy with the mattress nudged against it, and gojo's precise thrusts makes you twitch again. "uh uh... she's clamping again." he smirked at geto, "couldn't ask for permission from me, make sure she knows how to behave well now."

“we’ll just spank her swollen little clit this time around then” gojo smirked, and you widened your eyes in fear. your husbands long established that you only like it in a certain degree. these strangers knew nothing about you. you shake your head, squeezing your eyes shut. “no- no- stop it.” before long, you we’re trying your best to squirm away from him, only getting locked in a headlock though, when gojo’s hand wrapped around your neck, arching your back.

“then ask for permission…” he laughs, only rutting deeper and more spitefully. your eyes are losing focus and you can sense your pelvis tightening, the familiar knot in your gut was about to snap again. “would rather fucking die!” you managed to put up a fight again, though your body betrays you again & you’re tipping off the edge. gojo’s timed thrusts against your gspot made you squirt a little. absolutely humiliating…

“oh oh not only did she came she fuckin’ squirted on another man’s cock? do you wanna be our hired cocksleeve that bad?” he muses, filling you up with his seed, his jaw muscles are tightened at the way your pussy takes him… while, you’re getting light headed with the headlock & the orgasm, eyes losing focus and mouth agape.

before your mind could register anything else, geto has you manhandled, holding your legs apart by hooking his arms under your knees and then holding your wrists as he gravely whispered, “told you to ask for permission, brat.”

“n- no no- no no no no no please please” you’re shaking your head, thrown off your post orgasm bliss instantly and shuddering, “no please please…”

“no please- please…” gojo mocks, slapping across your swollen cunt instantly. you cry out and wince, tearing up once again & reducing to weak sniffling. “no- no-” you resist and cry out.

he raises his hand again, feigning another hit and observing you flinch, close your eyes and look to the side, bracing. you look up when he doesn’t hit though…

“give me another orgasm on my cock since you’re so eager.” he hums, and your mind has just about had it. your body has had quite a ride filled with different emotions & a squirting orgasm. you shake your head no, biting my lip. “no.” you looked at gojo, and he raises a brow, “no?”

“no” you pouted, sniffling a little. “my husbands are coming soon, gonna kick your ass. they’ll kill you.”

“would they?” suguru hums, relenting his grip on your feet and your body, craddling you closer to him and leaning you against his chest, peppering your face with soft, tender kisses. you sniffle & nodded, “mm~ yeah…”

satoru sighs, pouting, “you okay? princess?” he’s shaking a little, hoping you don’t end up hating him. “you’re okay?” he asks again, pouty and looking like a kicked puppy. “i was so mouthy wasn’t i?” he’s about to spiral. “no it was so fun.” you snicker, looking at him with a huge grin. a huge wave of relief washes over his face as he pulls you from suguru, holding you plush and kissing all over your face, your lips, passionately running his hands through your hair.

“good girl, gosh you handled it so well.” he muses, suguru humming, kissing satoru’s forehead and yours. “my angel, you were so good you know that? we didn’t mean anything we said, you know that right?” he soothes over your ass. you nodded, “mm~ yeah, i know daddy.” you coo, kissing his cheek.

“good, good… fuck- never again!” satoru scoffs, pouting big and harsh. “i know he’d say that.” you chuckled and looked at suguru, who nodded, tight lipped. “uh… i second that.”

you nodded, you knew both of them were indulging only because you read a fanfiction of one of your favorite characters and wanted to try. “fine, fine… i’m the one who should behaved traumatized!” you chuckled, and they pout together.

“oh please i was about to break character so many times, i knew you would kick my ass so i didn’t.” suguru hums, nuzzling his nose against you. “OH YEAH SAME!” satoru dramatically yells, “when she coughed i was about to lose it oh gods no-”

“let’s take a shower…” you coax their conversation, kissing both their foreheads.

“alright…”

“i love you both.” you mumbled, loopy and so subby.

“we love you too!” they hummed together, kissing your cheek.

[rookiesbookies]

Inspired by my lovely mutual @shotmrmiller and a second submission to #Soapitup (im summonimg you again @glitterypirateduck ). Im actually going to name this one and it’s called:

A doll and his loser.

Its loser!reader x sex doll!Reboot!Soap

Masterlist is pinned on profile as always, don’t forget to leave me a comment or a request in my inbox to let me know what yall want to see!

Especially let me know if you want part two

Fic under the cut as always.

Edit: im incredibly dyslexic im so sorry for typos

When the line of 141 sex dolls, which were based on random men she had never heard of who seemed just magically created for this line, showed in a sketching email in her inbox, she must have been truly weak that night. She had been incredibly drunk and disappointed by a man who just didn’t even bother to bring her pleasure. So of course she ordered the sketchy, ‘satisfaction guaranteed’ doll. There were choices, quite a few actually. But it was the beefy Scottsman that stood out against the rest, she couldn’t tell you why. Maybe it was his soft face, his muscles, or maybe the outfit he came with, it could even be his hair. Sure there was a photo of what his cock looked like on the sight, a normal length with a great amount of girth, but she wasn’t too picky.

She had completely forgotten about the lifelike sex doll she ordered, she learned was named ‘Johnny’ until the giant box that weighed more than she did sat on her doorstep. She quickly shoved the package marked ‘fragile’ in her door. The gibberish language on the side of the box wasn’t one she recognized, she realized as she struggled to get the box in. She gently put the box on its side before grabbing a butter knife from her kitchen.

When she got the sides of the box open she saw his face. So much softer in person, with his long lashes and plush cheeks. She traced her thumb over his cheek and over his lips before his eyes gently fluttered open at her touch. He seemed almost surprised before his eyes relaxed. It must be the personality software? It did say something about that. His eyes a crazy blue, the kind that looks like the ocean meeting the sky, they were so glossy and sweet, they seemed, truthfully, real. She brushed it off, its just a doll, this was a high tech sex doll, at least that's what the marketing said.

He studied her features and watched to lean into her warm touch, but his rigid body wouldn’t allow it.

She did her best to get the heavy doll out of its box. Dragging it into her bedroom. Even his hair is life-like, which was crazy.

When she got him onto her bed she propped him up against the headboard of her bed, his eyes watching her every move as she walked back out to search for his manual.

“Stupid company didn’t even send me a manual.” She grumbled, a few things were written on the box.

‘Ejaculates like a real man!’ ‘Life-like groans!’ ‘Tease him to get him up!’ ‘Built like a real stallion!’ There was a forth thing that the words had pulled off of when she tore off the tape, now it was illegible but she saw it pointed to the lips, so she assumed they were ‘soft like a real man’s!’

He was almost static in whatever position she put him in, one of his arms hovering in the weird position she left it in.

He seemed almost too lifelike, the way his eyes watched her.

“What?” She asked, “you seem surprised.”

She was met with silence.

“Oh, who am I kidding, you’re a fucking doll. You’re not going to reply to me, this isn’t some X rated Toy Story movie.” She grumbled before her stomach grumbled back. So she left her doll man to get some food.

She cooked herself a quick meal then went to go shower, completely forgetting about the doll as she stripped until she noticed the large bump in his change.

“I didn’t realize stripping to shower meant teasing,” she thought out loud. “At least now I can check if you were marketed correctly.”

She gently undid the belt on the doll’s pants, which seemed like real high quality jeans a real person would wear, before undoing the button and the zipper. Sliding down the waistband of his underwear she noticed the monster.

Her eyes flew wide, “maybe I should ask for measurements next time,” she mumbled, she wanted to faint. “They didn’t tell me you had a horse cock, big guy,’ she chuckled to herself, his eyes almost looking prideful, pupils seeming larger with almost bedroom eyes. They must have some crazy tech.

“I must really be losing it, talking to myself,” she sighed.

She let her fingers gently graze his dick before she spit on her hand, she wrapped her fingers around his fat cock delicately, not reaching all the way around. She sighed before getting up to pull more lube from her night stand. One of her hands, now covered in lube, began to massage him while her other hand began to rub around her pussy.

She hummed, mumbling about how needy she was, how guys had disappointed her in the past, what she wanted. This went on for a few minutes until she was sure she was prepped, awkwardly climbing on top of her beefcake sex doll before lining him up with her hole and sinking down. His eyes rolled back but she didn’t notice because her’s did too.

“Oh fuck,” she mumbled almost pitifully, letting her head fall against his hairy chest, a tattoo of a Scottish flag pulled tight on one of his pecs. “I haven’t been filled like this in so long.”

She sat there and adjusted, hands balled into fists against the doll’s chest. A chest that felt so warm and inviting.

She slowly began to rock her hips, soft whimpers and moans falling from her lips that got louder as she began to bounce on him. She supported herself with one hand while the other was in her mouth to suffocate her louder moans. Her eyes teary from the girth of him.

The doll let out little groans and moans too that slipped from behind his sealed lips.

It wasn’t long before her tight walls began to flutter, he came almost instantly when they began to flutter, she gasped at the feeling but kept going until she reached her own peak. But it wasn’t quite enough, so she kept bouncing. He came faster and faster, cock starting to ache because of the bonnie lass that was riding it. With a cunt like that on him he couldn’t help but shoot hot, white spirts into her.

When she got off him, it slid down her inner thigh, she swiped it up and stuck it in her mouth which made him almost faint.

“Jeez, it tastes real too,” she said like a question before walking away.

She got a wash cloth she had been planning to use for a shower and cleaned up the dolly with gentle touches. She felt like she needed to treat him like a real man, he was so close it seemed. She zipped his pants back up and set him on the ground before putting a sleep mask over his eyes.

“Nothing personal, I just don’t know how to put you in sleep mode and I don’t want to accidentally turn your dick on again when I get out of the shower.” She said before hopping in the bathroom. Her pussy was sore to say the least, but the good kind, the kind that makes a girl feel well used and fulfilled, she did her best to get the most of that fake cum out of her cunt.

After she scrubbed herself clean of the day and of that fulfilling session with her doll she made her way back into her room and flopped on her bed before crashing and falling asleep.

She used him about every other day or so for the next couple weeks before she started ovulating. She was like a bitch in heat, her body couldn’t calm down. She was flushed and couldn’t stop. She had two days off from work and pulled Johnny from where he had been set on the chair, returning him to her bed. The weird doll must have realized something weird was happening because it- he- was immediately hard. She immediately got on too of him, she had tried other positions but cowgirl was just the easiest by far with Johnny. She immediately lubed herself and him up, pumping him twice to make sure he was fully hard before sliding on.

The broken moans that fell from her mouth were a chorus of angels singing in his ears.

“I feel like such a loser,” she whined, “talking to and fucking a sex doll instead of a real guy, i feel like a weirdo.”

She put her head to his chest with whimpers falling from her mouth. He had already cum, his noises turning to the broken ones they always did before he came, a nice audio cue for the doll to have.

“Just a little more, please,” she whined to her doll.

After she rode out her high she laid sprawled out against his chest.

“I wonder how you’d be im bed if you were real,” she asked no one in particular. She was so especially weak right now. Ovulation making her so needy and sad, she couldn’t help but place a gentle kiss to his stiff lips as she let her eyes flutter closed to take a breather before the horny took back over.

She didn’t feel his stiff body relax, she didn’t notice anything until his plastic-y fingers ran up and down her waist.

“You won’t have to wonder any more, bonnie lass.” His voice was a low grumble in here ear, his scottish accent loud and clear. “How do you want it, I’m going to take good care of you.”

Hope you have a wonderful day, lovely reader💜 you deserve it

ALSO SIMON’S IS UP NOW.

[lazyollie]

Ninjago headcanons- Love at first sight

I closed the requests!!

I was waiting for this one. I have so many ideas what should I write about.

Warnings: grammar, typos, cringe

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Lloyd

(Reader is the master of the telekinesis)

°× The team was having trouble in fight. More and more criminals came to fight them making it almost impossible to stop them.

°× The mission seemed to fail in any moment. Lloyd know it well but he started to run out of ideas

°× You recognised from the distance their struggle. You were an unknown hero. You always helped from the distance.

°× That's why lot of people didn't know who are you. You have never got caught. Your identity was always hid.

°× You decided to sacrafise your mysteriousness to help the ninjas. Because that's what a real hero would do.

°× You jumped down from the roof and you with your power you throw the criminals at the wall.

°× Lloyd's eye widened as he took your form in. He wondered who are you and why are you helping them, but he wouldn't complain.

°× He was admiring you, completely forgeting about the mission, which is quite strange from him.

°× As you fought down the criminals with such a perfect movements and how your hair is blow by the gentle wind made his heart sped up.

°× He didn't even notice that who he was fighting with took his chance to kill him.

°× Fortunetely, you noticed it in time so you could stop the criminal by kicking him away with all your strenght

°× He snapped out quickly feeling embarrased by his action trying to collect himself.

"Thank you..."

"Thank me later, there all still a lot to take out"

°× You winked at him with a smile what made Lloyd blush and smirk. He got back to finish the mission.

°× Soon the mission ended up succesful and you took the criminals to the police station.

°× The ninjas thanked for your help. Lloyd was happy for your unexpedted arrival. He wished it would have last longer..

°× Because he absolutely wants to see you again and get to know you.

"Call me anytime you need me!"

"Thank you!"

Kai

°× He was in Chen's noodle restaurant with Skylor. She called him so he can try a new recipe and ask his opinion about it.

°× He noticed you a few tables away that you try to enjoy your meal, but a guy doesn't leave you alone. Your back was facing him.

°× The guy insulted you but you just stayed silent doing nothing about it...well, not too long you had enough.

°× You stood up grabbing the guy by the collar and started insulting him back. That was the first time he saw your face.

°× Oh how your eyes were in fire with anger. How you clenched your teeths. He always had something for strong women who can stand up for themselves.

°× Even though, he likes to watch you bit back but he had to stop both of you before things get wild.

°× So he stood between both of you and told the guy to fuck off as politely as he can so no fights will happen.

"He's gone you can calm down now"

"Alright..alright"

"Bye the way I'm Kai"

"Y/n.."

°× He made sure you that you can eat peacfully. Soon you guys started talking and later he had your number.

°× Your angry facial expression slowly melted and you releaved your bubbly, cuter side of you. His eyes fixed on you the whole time.

°× Skylor noticed the slight blush on Kai's cheeks. She winked at him before she left him alone with you.

Nya

°× It was one of the unlucky day when she had to use a public transport to visit one of her friends outside of the team.

°× She had to use the metro to get to the friend's house which is always full of people. Khm khm Ninjago city is large.

°× The metro doors opened and big amount of people got off of it but also a lot of people wanted to get inside impatiently.

°× You were one of those who wanted to get inside. You nervously tried to get yourself through the people who somehow pushed you around.

°× In one unexpected push of a guy made you fall. Luckily someone could catch you in time before you would have got under the crowd.

°× Nya pulled you back to your feet holding your hand staring into your eyes. Your cheeks got hot as you both just looked into each other's eyes like the time stopped.

°× Some complains got you both to snap out of it as she quickly pulled you into the metro with her.

°× When you were finally inside you started to chuckle as she did the same. You tugged a stray hair behind your ear.

°× She asked you that you're alright and you thanked her her help. Awkward silence fell on you as you noticed she still hold your hand.

"My hand.."

"Oh yeah, I'm sorry"

°× You talked with each other the whole time until both of you had to get off. She asked for your number before she left.

°× When she got off at the stop she looked at your phone number with a soft smile. Her cheeks flushed.

°× Her mood was much better for the rest of the day.

Zane

°× He was shopping in a local grocery store for supplies for the dinner he's gonna make for the ninjas.

°× Most of the times he pays a lot of attention what he's doing but this time he was searching for a seasoning.

°× He was that focused that he didn't watch where he goes and bumped into you. You fell and your things were everywhere on the floor.

°× He immediately apologised with a worried look, pulling you back to your feet.

"I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?"

"I'm fine, don't worry"

°× You chuckled croaching down to put your things back into your backet. Zane felt guilty and croached down to helping you get your things.

°× For a moment you looked up from the floor at him with a surpised face. Your faces were so close.

"Sorry"

°× You blushed thanking him his help. Soon everything was back in your basket. You both stared at each other nervously.

"I apologise again. Can I make it up to you with a dinner?"

"Is it a date?"

"Only if you want it to be.."

°× You both laughed about it and soon your number was in his contacts. He happily made dinner for his friends talking about your meeting.

Jay

°× You went to a well-known arcade in Ninjago city. You were looking forward to have some fun but you quickly realised playing alone is boring.

°× You walked around the arcade searching for people who might want to play with you, but unfourtunatly no one was symphatic for you

°× You kept looking but soon you noticed a two player dancing game. The game was all colorful and it was just waiting to be played with.

"Looking for a player 2?"

°× A messy brown haired guy with freckles stood in front of you. You wanted to force out a word but you just nooded.

°× His heart sped up from your beauty and seeing that same interest for the same game as him wanted to marry you on the spot.

"That's my favorite game. It doesn't have a lot of fan. I'm surprised that someone wants to play with it."

°× His cheek flushed as he stepped onto the dance stage with colorful squares on it. You did the same.

°× Soon the game started and you both placed your foot where the game told you so. Sometimes doing little spins.

°× Your nervousness got pushed away as you started enjoying the game.

°× Jay sometimes looked over at you and he was happy to see you enjoy the game just like him.

°× At the end of the game both of you chuckled together, wanting another round.

°× Then both of you played other games together. You became arcade buddies. Meeting up once or twice a week to play games together.

Cole

(I got carried away😓)

°× The ninjas were out in Dareth's karaoke bar having fun. He wad very chill trying new cocktales and even dancing (sometimes)

°× The others made a bet that if he loses it he has to sing a song what they decide to. They obviously wanted see him sing again. (From the oni triology)

°× Poor guy lost the bet and he had to stand on the karaoke stage with a microphone in his hand.

°× The song started playing and the lyrics became visible on a little board. He nervously stood there waiting.

°× You were also in the bar, bored playing with your drink in your hand. The song change got your attention and looked up.

°× A black raven haired guy about to sing so you waited patiently for him. When he started he looked nervous but by the time he got comfortable.

°× He was really having fun and this boosted your energy watching him with amazed eyes. He didn't noticed you. Yet.

°× When the song ended he bowed with a wide smile as some of the people started cheering.

°× You didn't wait a second before you walked over him and pocked him to get his attention.

°× When he turned around his eyes widened like he was staring into heaven. He fell in love on the spot and not even a word left his mouth.

"I saw you singing. I really liked it. Are you up to for another karaoke?.. With me?"

°× First he didn't know what to answer and just stared at you, but he quieckly realised he should answer when you looked at him confused.

"Of course I love singing. What song you want to sing?"

°× The other ninjas looked at him confused. They thought he hates singing or anything related to that.

°× Soon you put the song in and start to move to the beat. Cole does the same his eyes not leaving you.

°× At the first line when he heard your voice his eyes started sparkling with amaze. Your voice was angelic.

°× He sang along with you smiling. Then suddenly both of you started dancing with each other giving a show to all the people in the bar.

°× All the people stood up also dancing. Someone with the other and someone just alone.

"What is happening for real?"

"No idea.."

°× The vibes were perfect. When the song ended your breathing was heavy from all the moves.

°× You smiled at each other when the people started clapping. You tugged your hair behind your ear with a blush. Cole turned away with flushed cheeks.

°× Later when you said goodbye to each other the other ninjas looked at Cole surprised and confused.

"Since when do you like singing?"

"Since now."

"I detected a signs of interest towards that girl.."

"...."

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

It took me a while to finish this project. I broke my glasses so now I have a hard time to do anything because I can't see a lot.

So yeah. I have one request in my inbox before I would have closed the requests. I will make that one and it will open when I feel like.

I have too many ideas and drafts🥲

Love y'all<3

[yeoblurbs]

Clockwork

University AU - angst with a happy ending, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers

Pairing: Jung Wooyoung x Female Reader (ft. Yeonjun of TXT x Reader)

Synopsis: Being best friends with Jung Wooyoung was everything you could imagine. That is, until you catch feelings for him. Now, you navigate a heartbreak minus the rejection, and Wooyoung doesn’t seem to like it.

WC: 8.7k

Content/Warnings: mentions of scars, subtle hints of disassociation in the beginning, mentions of spiraling, one harassment scene. less serious stuff —> making out, somewhat possessive!Wooyoung(not toxic), Wooyoung gets jealous:>, kind of idiots to lovers. kind of slow burn. apologies for any typos I’m afraid I can’t re read this even one more time

the hollow feeling in your chest eats at you while you lay on your couch, snuggled in a blanket clad in one of Wooyoung’s soft grey hoodies. you pull the hood up over your head and stare at the chipped paint on the wall.

would you ever find someone who loved you enough? someone who would stick by you after seeing you at your worst; someone who would kiss the scars on your body and reassure you when you got insecure. someone who would look at you with overwhelming love and whisper I love you between kisses on your skin.

you wanted it to be Wooyoung. god, you wanted him to love you like that, but Wooyoung has only ever looked at you like his best friend. and you should be thankful for that, after all, you were so incredibly lucky to be close to Wooyoung, able to receive the intense amount of love and care he has to offer.

but you can’t help but feel selfish and wish for more.

a knock on your door pulls you from your spiraling. you allow yourself to stare into nothingness for a second longer before pulling yourself together and getting up to open the door.

the winter breeze feels crisp against your bare legs. you look up to see who’s visited you so late, and there he is; dressed in baggy jeans and a black tee shirt layered with a jacket much too large for him, there was Wooyoung. your Wooyoung.

well, in your dreams anyway.

you’re once again pulled out of your spiraling when he calls out to you with that irritatingly gentle, yet teasing voice of his, “Y/n? Are you gonna let me in?” and suddenly you’re back to reality.

the cold night air brushes against your skin again, goosebumps arising in their wake; a reminder of how cold Wooyoung must be.

you roll your eyes and smile, grabbing Wooyoung's arm and pulling him in. he lets you lock the door before engulfing you in a hug. you inhale softly at the smell of his subtle cologne and wrap your arms around his back, shutting your eyes and allowing yourself the selfishness of wanting him close. but he breaks the hug a moment later, looking at you with that maddening smile and you feel yourself relax in his presence.

“So, what’re we watching?” he asks lightly, pulling your arm towards the couch as if he lives there. and he might as well, with how often he sleeps over. he removes his jacket, throwing it on the couch before sitting down. you struggle to not ogle his arms, “Nothing, actually.”

you plop down on the couch next to him, an unfamiliar distance between the two of you. you hope he won’t notice, but Wooyoung looks at you with an unreadable expression as he observes the space.

“Are you okay?” he asks quietly, serious eyes boring into yours.

of course, he noticed immediately, you think fondly. “I’m just tired, honestly. but let’s watch something?” you smile, trying to change the subject.

Wooyoung lets it go, but only after squinting his eyes and moving closer to you. you sigh when his shoulder touches yours, craving the skinship yet hating yourself for it.

Wooyoung decides on a random movie, and while you were distracted throughout the film, your eyes immediately snap to his phone when a notification pops up. Wooyoung picks it up, swipes to open the message, and text back.

you force yourself not to check who he’s texting and speak casually, “What is it?”

he glances up at you before looking down and shutting his phone off, “Just Miyu, she’s asking if we can see each other tomorrow.”

“Oh, are you guys a thing then?” a forced smile makes its way to your face, though you ensure it looks genuine enough for Wooyoung to not notice.

he exhales, “Honestly? Not really. I like her and I think she’s really cute, but I’m not sure I see myself in a committed relationship with her.”

Wooyoung runs a hand through his two-toned hair, black strands falling over the blonde, “I’ll see how it goes though after a few dates.”

“Good luck!” you smile; a response you always gave whenever Wooyoung told you he was dating someone. because although it hurt, you wished him happiness, even if that meant he found it in someone else.

the rest of the night goes uneventful, but you can’t stop thinking about the fact that something needs to change. you don’t want to do it anymore; you don’t want to sit on the sidelines and watch your best friend fall in love with someone other than you.

but Wooyoung was never going to choose you, so perhaps it was time you found someone who would.

you needed to move on, you realize. not only for yourself, but so you could continue to be close with Wooyoung even after he ultimately finds another girl; someone who isn't you. with a goal in mind, you bite your lip and click the contact of the only person you could think of; Hongjoong.

-

"So what, i’m supposed to just ask for his number?" you sigh, already regretting asking for his help.

Hongjoong crosses his arms, "Yes, exactly that. Men love when women ask for their numbers, something about the assertiveness or some shit like that.” he shrugs.

you squint wearily at him, “Well, you don’t sound so convinced yourself, but I don’t really have anyone else to ask,”

you groan as you watch Hongjoong’s face stretch into a smirk. “Okay, asshole, when should I do it?”

“Do it today after your last class.” Hongjoong moves closer to you and whispers, “From what I know, Yeonjun’s class ends at the same time as yours. So when he’s leaving the building, you just need to be ready to catch him.”

you pout at his instructions, unsure how you’ll manage to do something like this. Hongjoong pats your head in comfort. “Okay… thank you Joongie, I’ll try my best.”

You move to wrap your arms around his waist, feeling his chest rumble with a laugh, “No need to thank me Y/nie, just let me know how it goes, and if he’s an ass to you I’ll beat him up.” he pulls back at you to wink and you push him away with a laugh. Well, what could possibly go wrong?

-

Everything is going wrong. you were supposed to be running out of class immediately to find Yeonjun, but someone accidentally ran into you, dumping their entire large caramel macchiato on you in the process.

and unlucky for you, you were wearing white; now you had to put off asking Yeonjun out and walk home with sticky skin and a stained shirt.

you ruffle your hands in your hair frustratedly as you exit the school building, regretting not bringing a hoodie that day. in your rushed walk towards your car, you fail to notice someone standing right in front of you.

you run straight into their chest.

“Oh my fucking-, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” you blurt out quickly, eyes filling up with tears in exhaustion as you look up to see Yeonjun.

Yeonjun.

No, No. No. this could not be happening.

you were supposed to ‘casually’ run into him with your hair neatly done and your outfit clean, but here you were with a huge stain on your chest and mascara tainting your tears.

your eyes move towards the floor as a tear falls, avoiding eye contact as you quickly wipe it away.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. nothing to apologize or get upset for,” he reassures, hands scrambling before landing on your shoulders.

he bends down to catch your eyes, “You okay? Doesn’t look like you’re having a very good day.”

and maybe it’s because you’re fed up with the events that occurred. not just the stupid sticky shirt but your stupid massive crush on your best friend that hasn’t gone away no matter how hard you try that you’re talking to the guy you were supposed to ask out to get over him and-

Yeonjun tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, staring at you in concern as you sniffle, trying to calm down and not have a total mental breakdown in front of someone you were not close with.

“Uh… I don’t exactly know what’s making you so sad, but if you need anything I’m here, even if we don’t know each other so well.” he smiles cutely, and your eyes dart to his full lips before glancing back at his eyes.

you don’t say anything, mind scattered and tired after the long day you’ve had. you wonder how you’re even functioning in this conversation with one of the hottest guys you’ve seen.

Yeonjun pouts once he realizes you are too tired to speak, before an idea comes to mind and his eyes light up. he grabs the hem of his hoodie and pulls it over his head, ruffling his hand through his hair as he hands it to you.

you don’t understand, this interaction is a lot more confusing than you initially thought it would be. but perhaps that was just your luck. your hands reach out unsure, so he pushes the hoodie in your arms firmly.

you clutch the lavender coloured fabric in your hands tightly, looking up at him in confusion. “What’s this for?”

he smiles again. you find you really like his smile. not as much as Wooyoungs though, an evil voice in your head reminds you. you frown as you ignore it.

“Well, I’m going to assume one of the things that’s got you so upset is about your shirt, so don’t worry about it, you can return the hoodie whenever you want,” he reassures kindly.

Your cheeks feel hot as you remember the humiliating stain. “Ah… I see. Thank you, you really didn’t have to do this for me.”

“It’s okay, honestly! Like I said, don’t worry about it.”

you bite your lip and nod, before remembering your mission to ask for his number. would it be too awkward now? would he even want to speak to you after this odd encounter? your mind races as you think of what to do next.

luckily, Yeonjun picks for you.

“I don’t really know if this is an appropriate time to ask, but could I by chance get your number?” he looks to the side, rubbing the back of his neck as a light blush coats his cheeks.

your face brightens at his question, and a soft laugh bubbles out of you at the sight of his blush.

“Yeah, sure, of course.”

he opens his phone and hands it to you. your fingers shake as you type your number in, but you hand it back to him with a steady smile.

“Thanks, I should get going, but I hope the rest of your day goes well.” he winks.

your eyebrows raise at his sudden confidence, but you would be lying if you said you didn’t find it attractive.

“Okay,” you smile, “Thank you for the hoodie, really it means a lot.”

he shakes his head back at you, “It was nothing, seriously. and I’ll text you later!”

you bow your head, agreeing as you watch him wave before jogging to his friends.

you clutch the hoodie in your hands tightly as you turn to walk to your car. you smile giddily,

mission accomplished.

-

it’s a Friday evening.

Wooyoung lays on your bed unceremoniously as he scrolls on his phone while you search your closet for an outfit to wear to the party tonight.

while normally you would’ve gone for something a little more comfortable, you decide to go for something more risky.

you did enjoy parties, but tonight you had someone’s attention to catch. someone who wasn’t the boy sitting on your bed.

“I don’t get why you’re putting so much thought into it. We go to parties all the time, what’s so different about this one?” Wooyoung nags, body laying on his side as he’s perched up on his hand, elbow digging into the mattress.

you huff, “Because! I just want to look prettier tonight, isn’t that a valid reason itself?”

Wooyoung looks at you suspiciously before sighing, “Fine, fine! I’ll find out the truth eventually y/nie,”

you roll your eyes at his tone before looking in the full-body mirror. you have a tight black skirt on paired with a matching fitted cropped shirt. underneath the skirt are sheer stockings, and you top it off with an oversized leather jacket.

your makeup and hair are already done, styled in your preferred way as you twirl in front of your mirror with a happy smile. this will surely catch Yeonjun's attention tonight, and your stomach swirls with joy at the thought.

a cough breaks you out of your stupor and you look up to find Wooyoung staring at you with wide eyes. his cheeks are tinted red as he licks his bottom lip.

“What? Does it look bad?” You look down self-consciously, unused to Wooyoung looking at you like that. you wonder if this outfit will catch more attention than you predicted.

he shakes his head and relaxes his face, “No, no. I was just surprised.”

he smirks, “You look hot.”

your lips part stupidity as you swiftly turn around to face the mirror again. “Shut up,” you mumble, ignoring the way your heart jumped at his words.

-

Loud music blares through your ears as you step foot into the party, eyes scanning the chaotic room for someone familiar. Wooyoung grabs your hand, lacing your fingers with his as he pulls you towards your mutual friends. you stare at your intertwined hands in awe before remembering that it meant nothing.

nothing to him at least.

your fingers slip from his grasp once you reach your friends and he looks at you in confusion. you smile reassuringly at him, however, and he turns back without noticing anything.

you bite your lip as you look around; you need to leave. not the party, but you need to leave from Wooyoung's side. you don’t belong there. you never have.

you tug at Wooyoung's arm to get his attention, prompting him to bend down as you speak into his ear, “I’m gonna go get a drink.”

“Okay! Just let me tell them and we can go.” he smiles dazzlingly, but you frown in response.

“No! Stay here, it’s okay! I’ll get it myself.”

the smile slowly slips from his face and his brows furrow. you look around anxiously, you don’t know why you feel so nervous. "Alright, just be careful and call me if you need anything, okay?” he grabs your arm, gazing at you seriously, and your stomach rolls at his protectiveness. you wish he wouldn’t be so perfect. but this was Wooyoung, so that was rather impossible.

you nod at him in response before leaving, letting out a breath when you were far enough.

you glance back at Wooyoung who is speaking animatedly, upset that you couldn’t enjoy yourself with him all because of your selfish feelings. you ignore the internal pull to be close and turn back around.

until you bump directly into someone’s chest.

“Fuck, what is wrong with me lately?” you murmur to yourself, rubbing your nose lightly before looking up.

“I’m so- Yeonjun?!”

the universe is not on your side it appears, as the Choi Yeonjun is in front of you looking at you with that cute boyish smile. you want to melt into a puddle of embarrassment then and there.

he chuckles at your expression, “So, is running into people always your thing? Or is that exclusive to me only?” his lips stretch into a grin.

“Seems to be exclusive to you, unfortunately,” you say teasingly, giggling at his offended look.

he puts a hand above his heart appearing wounded, “Unfortunately?! I will have you know it should be considered an honor to bump into me.”

“Considered an honor by who? Yourself?” you gloat, enjoying the flirty banter with a guy you found immensely attractive.

he clicks his tongue before giving up the facade and smiling genuinely. “I thought you said you’d text me when you got here.” he pouts at you; you have to force yourself to look away from his lips.

you and Yeonjun had been texting ever since your little run-in on campus. he knew you were coming here, hence the fact that you also put in more effort for your look today. you hadn’t exactly told Wooyoung about him either, unsure how your best friend would react to you randomly finding interest in dating.

“I just got here! I was going to text you once I got a drink, I promise.”

he nods sulkily, and you suddenly think he and Wooyoung would get along well. “Okay then, let’s go get you a drink?” he asks, grabbing your hand to lead you.

you stare at your hand in his as he leads you through the swarm of people. his is much larger than yours, warmth radiating off him so intensely you wish you could feel butterflies. but it is nothing in comparison to how you feel with your hand intertwined with Wooyoungs, and your heart dims at the realization.

the rest of the night goes by fast and enjoyable, and you find yourself enamoured with Yeonjun. but as much as you wish you liked him romantically, you find him amazing platonically at best.

you feel as though you are fighting a losing battle, and that using Yeonjun to get over Wooyoung would not only fail, but be selfish in case he caught feelings for you.

so when it gets a little too late, you make your way back to Wooyoung. Yeonjun is still next to you, and the two of you are engaging in a very serious conversation about whether or not water is wet when you feel someone grab your waist softly.

you jump at the feeling, unintentionally moving closer to Yeonjun until you turn around to find Wooyoung.

you relax at the sight of him, now gravitating to Wooyoung subconsciously, “Hi! Ready to go? I’m so tired and my head is pounding from the music.”

Wooyoung smiles at you, but it looks forced. “Yeah, yeah. Who’s this?” he tilts his head toward Yeonjun, and you blanch as you realize what kind of situation you put yourself in. but it shouldn’t go awry; the two didn’t know each other, and Wooyoung had no idea that you were interested in Yeonjun- if you could even call it that.

“This is Yeonjun, he goes to our University. He’s majoring in Dance actually, just like you!” you try unsure, glancing back to Yeonjun to assess his face.

he doesn’t look as standoffish as Wooyoung however, seeming rather amused as he eyes Wooyoung's hand on your waist.

“Hey, it’s nice to meet you. I hope I didn’t hog Y/n to myself all night.”

Wooyoung's hand tightens as he takes a step closer to you. you can smell the cologne on him and feel the heat coming from him on your back.

Wooyoung laughs, but it is far from genuine, “No, of course not. Y/n is her own person, she can hang out with whoever she wants, even if it’s with someone like you.”

your head whips to Wooyoung, face scandalized at his last words. you push at his chest, moving him away from Yeonjun, “Dude, not fucking cool.”

you turn back to Yeonjun, ignoring the way he is still staring at Wooyoung in mirth.

“I’m sorry, he’s had a long night and too much to drink, we should get going.” You slap your hand over Wooyoung's mouth when he moves to open it, giving a crooked smile to Yeonjun as Wooyoung fumbles beneath your hand.

Yeonjun glances at Wooyoung before his eyes land on you, “No worries, I get it. Just text me when you get home. I’ll see you on Monday?”

you nod quickly, “Yeah, of course, I’ll see you then!”

without another word, you grab Wooyoung's arm and drag him out of the house and into his car. once seated in the passenger seat, you open your hand and look at him expectantly.

he glances to your open palm, “What?”

“Keys.” you sigh, wanting this night to be over so you can lay in bed and go to sleep.

Wooyoung places the keys in your hand with a pout and you clutch them before standing up, shutting his door, and getting in the driver's seat.

“So, Yeonjun huh? Didn’t know you two were so close.” Wooyoung says, voice cutting the deafening silence. your hands tighten on the wheel as you focus on the road.

Wooyoung is still sulking, and while you have no idea why, you also have no interest in finding out. his behavior in front of Yeonjun was extremely uncalled for and disrespectful, and you would give him an earful had he not drank anything tonight. “C'mon, Y/nie, don’t ignore me. I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have talked to him like that but I just... got bad vibes from him.”

you roll your eyes at his words, though some of your anger diminishes at his apology. well, at least he knew why you were upset.

“Bad vibes? Why? You’ve spoken to him for a total of two minutes.”

Wooyoung deflates. it seems he knows he is being unreasonable. “I dunno, okay? But listen, I’m allowed to be upset too. You haven’t told me anything about your relationship with Yeonjun, and I'm your best friend.”

you glance at his crestfallen face before sighing, “You’re right, I’m sorry too. I should have told you about him, I just didn’t know how to bring it up.”

“It’s okay I guess, but I’ll only forgive you on one condition.”

you narrow your eyes at him before looking back to the road, “And what would that be?”

Wooyoung grins mischievously, “You tell me all about it. When did you first meet, how did you first meet, how often do you text? And most importantly, how it went tonight with him!” he rambles excitedly, and you hate that he seems so happy at the prospect of you speaking to a guy.

and so you begin to tell Wooyoung the events leading up to the party, including the details such as your stained shirt, the hoodie, the fact that the two of you have been texting for quite a while, and why you dressed up tonight.

he nods excitedly at you as you go through the events while driving, but you fail to notice the dimness in his eyes and how his smile seems a little more strained as you go on a tangent about Yeonjun's cute lips.

you arrive home soon after, dropping Wooyoung off and parking his car before walking to your apartment. the two of you lived quite close.

once in bed, you recount the events that occurred at the party, stomach lurching when you remember Wooyoung's possessive hand on you.

but then the butterflies morph into moths, an ugly wretched feeling of yearning swallows you whole, and you find yourself spiraling at the realization that you are zero steps closer to getting over Jung Wooyoung. you have merely been going in circles from the start.

Wooyoung on the other hand, lays in bed with a permanent frown. he doesn’t understand the irritation he feels towards Yeonjun, and he certainly doesn’t understand why he felt threatened by seeing you two together. you were his best friend, and that’s all you’ve ever been to him.

but as he stares at his ceiling and pictures a life where you are not his, he wonders if you’ve meant more to him all along.

-

"I’m going to break things off with Yeonjun." You rest your head on your hands, elbows perched on the table in front of you.

Hongjoong sits before you, mouth open as he looks at you as if you are crazy. and perhaps you are for even thinking of letting Yeonjun go, but you were never really a selfish person, much less a selfish lover. and while you were not considered Yeonjun's lover just yet, you figure you need to pull back now before the tide takes you too far, leaving you stranded and alone drowning in your own consequences.

he exhales rather dramatically, "Are you sure? I'm going to be honest, I don't understand at all. Everything has been going so well! Why would you give up now?"

"But it hasn't been going so well Joong. I find him attractive but my feelings for Wooyoung are still very much there and alive." You take a sip of your drink, allowing the cool beverage to calm you. "I don't want to be one of those assholes who lead someone on when they aren't over their first crush or whatever."

you shake your head, "That's never going to be me."

Hongjoong nods understandingly. "Well, if you put it like that I can't really disagree."

he reaches over from across the table to pat your head comfortingly, "I'm proud of you, though. You are so selfless, it makes me worry someone will take advantage of you." You smile abashed at his praise, having always looked up to Hongjoong.

"Don't worry, I'm strong too, okay? I learned from you, after all." You smile as he scoffs teasingly.

Hongjoong glances out the window before looking back at you, "So, when are you planning on breaking the news to him? And what do you plan to do after?"

you press your lips together, "I asked him to meet me in an hour, so hopefully that goes well."

"As for after that..." you smile bitterly, "Maybe I'll confess to Wooyoung. I don't know, maybe a rejection would help me move on properly."

Honghoong tilts his head up and down, "You're a good person, y'know? It's not selfish of you to catch feelings for someone. Stuff like that is inevitable."

"And confessing your feelings wouldn't be a burden, I know what you are thinking, you deserve an answer to your feelings, whether that is an acceptance or a rejection."

you smile at Hongjoong's words, "Thank you, my unpaid therapist I so dearly love."

"Anytime." he deadpans, and you giggle as you watch his face break out into a smile.

you leave the coffee shop soon after, enjoying the breeze as you walk back to campus to meet Yeonjun. you aren't sure how your talk will go, but you know you need to get everything off of your chest, including the guilt of leading Yeonjun on.

"Y/n!" a voice calls out from behind you, and you turn to see Yeonjun waving at you. He jogs up to you, smiling once he is close, "Hey! How are you doing?"

you grin softly at him, "I'm doing okay, how about you?"

he runs a hand through his hair, and you are once again reminded of his strikingly amazing looks. you hope he finds someone to appreciate him as he deserves. "I'm alright, but I'm guessing you have something to speak to me about after that ominous text."

"Yeah... you're right." you glance up at him before looking back in front of you. "Lets walk and I'll tell you?"

"Of course, start whenever you're ready."

you exhale shakily, "So, there is no easy way to say this, but for as long as I've known Wooyoung, I have had feelings for him," You bite your lip, ripping the bandaid off immediately. "Maybe it was something about the way he treated me, or the way he treated everyone else. He was just so full of love and I was immediately smitten."

you look up into Yeonjun's eyes, "It's been three years, and no matter how hard I try, I can't seem to get over him." You move to stand directly in front of Yeonjun. "I owe you a massive apology. I am so incredibly sorry for showing interest in you despite having feelings for someone else. It wasn't right for me to practically use you, not when you have been so good to me from the beginning."

you finish your apology with a deep bow, only rising when Yeonjun scrambles to make you stand straight.

"Well, I can't say I'm totally surprised. I did see how he looked at you at the party, but I do appreciate the apology." he smiles, not seeming resentful in the slightest. you wonder if he was an angel in his past life.

but you're also confused, "What do you mean how he looked at me? It's unrequited, he only sees me as his best friend." Your mind races as you try to imagine what Yeonjun could possibly mean, but you try not to get your hopes up.

he tilts his head, "I just mean he looked really jealous, but I guess you didn't notice." You look at Yeonjun with furrowed brows, before pushing the thought out entirely. you could overthink this later, when you weren't in the presence of the sweet guy in front of you.

"Anyway! I just wanted to talk to you about that. I really am sorry, and I hope we can be friends even if I was a selfish asshole."

Yeonjun shakes his head seriously, "You are not a selfish asshole for trying to get over him. You telling me all of this now proves that you are much kinder than you give yourself credit for."

"And of course we're friends! If it makes you feel any better, I'm still not one hundred percent over my ex, so I hope that will ease your conscience." he pats your shoulder reassuringly.

you raise your eyebrows at his confession. "Thank you, seriously." You move to hug him and he wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into him firmly.

what you don't notice, is your best friend staring at you a few feet away, your favorite donut in one hand and his iced americano in the other.

he eyes Yeonjun's arms wrapped around you, wanting nothing more than to pull him off and surround you with himself instead. you deserved someone better than Yeonjun. you deserved someone who would make you breakfast when you slept in; someone who would bring you hot cocoa between classes during harsh winters, and someone who would shower you with more love than you could possibly imagine.

he could do that for you; he could be that person for you.

Wooyoung's chest feels lighter when he realizes what this means, but his brows furrow as he watches you break apart from Yeonjun, looking up at him with a sweet smile. he pouts, glancing at the donut in his hand as he turns away, a new goal in mind.

he is going to pursue you. not Miyu, whom he hadn't had an interest in quite some time, nor Yujin, the girl from his class who wouldn't leave him alone. he doesn't know why he's been searching so hard for something- or someone who was right there all along.

but he has time to make up for it, and he certainly will.

The next time you see Wooyoung is during your break between classes. you are sitting at a bench outside, headphones on as you whisper the lyrics to 'Dust' by Seventeen.

you shriek when you feel a cold sensation on the back of your neck, pulling your headphones off as you hear that familiar cackle behind you. you glare at Wooyoung as he wipes tears from his eyes, finding you very amusing.

"I'm glad that was so funny to you," you say snarkily, but all Wooyoung does is beam at you in response. "You're not going to thank me? I drove all the way to the store to grab it."

you glance down at the cold drink in front of you, seeing your ultimate favorite beverage from a store all the way across town. you look up to Wooyoung with an excited smile, "Oh shit! Thank you, you really shouldn't have."

Wooyoung shrugs your comment off with a wave of his hand, but his cheeks burn pleasantly. he takes a seat next to you, nuzzling your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist and you freeze. you haven't been this close to Wooyoung in weeks, courtesy of the distance you implemented in order to get over him.

"I miss you," he whispers, and you relax instantly. the last thing you wanted was for Wooyoung to feel neglected in your friendship, so you accept his hug without a care for your initial goal.

you pat his head, running your hands through his hair as you notice it has gotten quite long. he melts underneath your touch, and you smile fondly. "You okay?" you ask.

Wooyoung lifts his head, facing you. the two of you are inches apart, and your heart races at the close proximity. you can see his precious dot, as he likes to call it; your eyes trace his nose bridge as your gaze falls to his lips, eyeing the beauty mark on his bottom lip.

he bites his lower lip, and you glance back up to his eyes, noticing his gaze stuck on your lips as well. you wonder what he’s thinking.

you swiftly turn to your laptop, "So, how was class?" Your cheeks feel hot, and your chest burns. you were about two seconds away from saying fuck it and kissing him.

Wooyoung sighs, "It was okay I guess. Nothing interesting, I'd rather be with you."

your stomach lurches at his words, but you turn to him puzzled. "Isn't Miyu in your last class? What happened?"

"Nothing," he shrugs. "I've just realized there are more important things for me to focus on. More important people to focus on."

you stare at his unusual seriousness, "Ah... I see."

he suddenly smiles brightly, "Plus, I'd rather be around my Y/nie than any other girl!" he moves to hug you again, and you stare bitterly at the drink in front of you.

you would never get over him. it was like clockwork.

-

"Okay, let's go?" you ask Wooyoung, who is once again perched up on your bed as you exit your bathroom, spraying your perfume and eyeing the black bodycon dress that hugged your body flatteringly.

when you look up Wooyoung is standing with his arms crossed, mouth pursed in a pout. you raise your eyebrows at him, "What?"

he falls backward on your bed, facing the ceiling. "How is it possible to look that beautiful. I'll never know."

your heart jumps like it always does when he compliments you, though you giggle as you wave him off, "C'mon, Youngie, we’ll be late."

the two of you arrive at the club less than thirty minutes later, and Wooyoung laces his fingers with yours the moment you step in. you glance down, stomach swirling at the sight of the rings adorning his hands and prominent veins leading up his arms. you bite your lip and look up; you could not get distracted by his arms so early into the night.

"Wooyoung! Y/n! It's so good to see you." the tall bartender greets.

you smile up at him, "It's good to see you too, Mingi. I hope you're doing well,"

Mingi nods, "I am, and I'm doing even better after seeing you two. It's nice to see some familiar faces in this place."

"When you finish your shift you should come with us! We miss you, Mangi, it's been too long." Wooyoung whines from his place beside you. you roll your eyes at his antics, but you would be lying if you said you didn't miss Mingi too.

Mingi laughs, smiling at the two of you. "So, the usual?"

"Yup! Please and thank you." You grin cheekily. Mingi winks before leaving to get your drinks.

Wooyoung turns to you, "The others should be here any second now, I'm honestly shocked we got here first." You lean your head on Wooyoung's shoulder, unable to hear his breath hitch due to the loud music, "I'm not really surprised, we've always been punctual people."

you lift your head and smile at him, faces close as you wink, "That's why we get along so well."

Wooyoung gulps at your closeness as he smiles nervously, "Yeah, I really hate people who are late." You giggle and nod, understanding him completely.

a large figure runs into Wooyoung from behind as their arms wrap around him, and you laugh as you watch San smile at you from his place on Wooyoung's shoulder, "Hi, Y/nie! Youngie! I've missed you guys so much, it's been like, forever!"

"It's actually been three days, but I gather that's too long for you two." you tease, and Wooyoung pouts at you as he turns around to hug San properly.

San moves to hug you next, "Yeosang and Hongjoong are using the bathroom, those two losers drank too much water or something." San looks disgusted as Wooyoung giggles.

"TMI Sannie, TMI," you say stifling a laugh. San was very close to Wooyoung, and very similar to Wooyoung. those two were the cutest platonic soulmates you've seen, and it has always been fun when they were together.

"What did you tell them, San-ah?" a deep voice deadpans from behind you. you turn to see Yeosang and Hongjoong, squinting at San as he hides behind Wooyoung.

you jump out of your seat, "Sangie!" you run into his arms, squeezing him tightly. "I missed you so much, you barely come to these events anymore." You pout up at him as he smiles, "Sorry, Y/n, I've been a little busy, but I promise I'll try to come as often as I can."

Hongjoong stands to the side, "The fuck am I? Chopped liver?"

you break away from Yeosang and giggle as you move to hug Hongjoong as well, "Hi, Joongie. I missed you as well, even if I saw you two days ago."

"Uh-huh. Sure." Hongjoong says dismissively, though the smile on his face tells a different story.

the four of you move to a booth, ordering another round of drinks along with some food. the night is fun, filled with laughter and jokes as you watch Wooyoung and Hongjoong bicker like children. you are almost finished your meal when you spot a familiar head through the crowd.

"I'll be right back, I want to go say hi to someone," you tell them, taking a sip of your drink before sliding out of the booth as you stare at your target.

Wooyoung eyes you from his seat, ignoring the looks of mirth he gets from his friends. you look amazing tonight, just as you do every night, and it's been hard for him to not want to keep his arms wrapped around you the whole time. not because of others staring, but because of how irresistible you look. he wonders who you have left to speak to, but once he gets a glimpse of their face, he scowls.

Yeonjun.

"Yeonjun! Hi!" you greet, smiling toothily at the tall man.

he looks shocked for a moment before his face relaxes at the sight of you, "Hey, Y/n, how's it going?" he moves to hug you, arms covering your torso as you stretch to hug his neck. you feel as though someone is staring at you from behind, but shrug it off as you look back to Yeonjun.

"It's good! Hongjoong, Yeosang, and Wooyoung are over there." You point back to them, and Yeonjun glances at the table, coughing when he sees Wooyoung glaring at him.

"Oh, that's cool. I came with Beomgyu, and HueningKai. They're over there getting shitfaced as we speak."

you look behind him and find the two of them dancing sloppy and chuckle at the sight. "And let me guess, you are the responsible parent for the night?"

Yeonjun sighs, "Unfortunately. Without me, these idiots wouldn't end up home most nights."

you nod at him, amused.

"So, how's everything with Mr. Loverboy?" Yeonjun asks, tilting his head toward Wooyoung. you glance back and catch Wooyoung's eye; he smiles charmingly, and you grin back before facing Yeonjun, and your face drops. "I actually have no idea. Sometimes it feels like we're having a moment, but then he treats me like normal, so I'm not really sure."

you exhale, "If there's one thing I know, though, it's that he isn't interested in any girl right now. He told me he has more important things and people to focus on or something like that."

you smile sadly, "I wonder if it's too naive to think it's me."

Yeonjun scoffs loudly, and you look up to him startled. "Listen, if I wasn't sure before, I am sure now. Wooyoung most definitely feels the same way about you." he leans down to your ear, feeling only slightly scared as Wooyoung glowers at him from across the room. "Not only was he incredibly jealous the first time I met him, but he has been shooting daggers at me since you approached me."

Yeonjun lifts his head and smiles encouragingly, "I'm sure all he needs is a little push, and he'll confess. Don't give up yet, Y/n. He's almost there, I can tell."

you look at Yeonjun, not very convinced though not as dejected as before. "Okay, yeah. I should get back."

You glance at his friends, "Good luck with those two, let me know if I can help." You smile, giggling when Yeonjun sighs dramatically at the sight of them.

"Don't worry, I can handle them. You should focus on the jealous boy who's waiting for you across the room." Yeonjun waves before giving you a little push towards Wooyoung, "Please, go before he rips my head off."

you roll your eyes with a chuckle, smiling as you wave and make your way back to your friends and Wooyoung. you attempt to swiftly pass the people dancing, but you get caught up in the crowd, losing sight of the table and struggling to get out.

when a hand grabs at your wrist, you flinch, moving back as you cradle your arm against you protectively. "Hey, sweetness," a gruff voice comes and you glance up to see an older man with missing teeth.

Just what you needed.

your hands shake as you attempt to move past him, "Sorry, not interested." but he grabs your arm again and you rip it out of his grasp for the second time.

"I said I'm not interested."

he laughs, and you can smell his rancid breath from where you stand. "You don't mean that, c'mon, why else would you be wearing that?" Your face drops at his comment, and your mind races as you wonder if you'll be able to run fast enough to lose him. you glance at the dancing bodies surrounding you, realizing that was highly unlikely.

but before you can panic any longer, a familiar scent fills your senses as you are pulled into someone's chest. you flinch again, still jittery, but when you see Wooyoung you relax immediately.

Wooyoung curls an arm around your waist and you sink into his embrace, "She said she’s not interested, you fucking loser." he glowers, face devoid of the usual joy it contains, as his eyes are hardened with protectiveness.

“Well, maybe she shouldn't be wearing that outfit if she didn't want the attention!" the man yells, causing people to look your way as a circle forms surrounding the three of you. you tug at Wooyoungs arm when you see his nose flare in anger not wanting things to get physical, "Wooyoung, fuck this idiot, don't bother with him," you glance up at the man before you,

"He has enough problems, like the fact that he wakes up every day looking like that." You sneer.

Wooyoung grins, "Good point."

the man opens his mouth in fury, but he gets interrupted, "Is there a problem here?" Two security guards approach and the man pales. you interject before he can speak, "Yes, actually. This guy grabbed me twice when I said I wasn't interested."

the man flails uselessly as the two men escort him out, cursing at them in rage. a rather anticlimactic ending to such a panic-inducing situation, but you gratefully accept it. you exhale once they are out of sight, relaxing onto Wooyoung as he wraps both of his arms around your waist. you feel exhausted, though Wooyoung feels comforting around you, and you do not wish to move.

"Y/nie, let's go home?" he whispers in your ear, and you nod slowly before turning around and burying your face in his neck. Wooyoung, your Wooyoungie. you feel tears spring to your eyes, because the truth is he wasn't yours.

perfect, protective, kind, thoughtful, and sweet Wooyoung was not yours, and you find that thought a little harder to digest right now. Wooyoung feels something wet on his neck as he looks down at you worriedly, "Y/n? Are you okay?"

you don't respond, clutching him harder as he curses before maneuvering you outside.

the cooler night air feels refreshing as it greets you, and you sniffle once the door closes and you are alone with Wooyoung. "What's wrong, Y/nie? Talk to me, pretty."

another tear streams down your face at the term of endearment as you push him away frustrated. "Don't call me that!"

Wooyoung's face drops, "Don't call you pretty?" he looks at you helplessly, "I-I'm sorry, but I don't- Are you upset about what just happened? Because why does it seem like you're upset with me?"

you wipe your tears, annoyed with your shaky hands and legs that felt much too like jello. "I am upset! I'm scared because that was a really scary situation to be in, but more importantly, I'm upset with you!"

Wooyoung looks heartbroken, his hand reaching out to you before falling to his side.

"It's not fucking fair, okay? You don't get to buy me sweet drinks and get possessive when I flirt with someone, and then glare daggers into guys I'm just friends with and protect me from creepy ugly men without me catching feelings for you!" you cry out, breathing heavily as you continue.

"I'm so tired of the shitty butterflies I get when I see you, or the sadness I feel when you look at every girl but me, and most of all I'm sick of your stupid pretty lips that look way too pretty to be real and- now I'm rambling about your lips being pretty-"

he grabs your cheeks gently, pushing his lips onto yours and your brain short circuits. your hands lift unsure, before finding purchase on Wooyoung's broad shoulders as you part your mouth, a small noise leaving your throat when he bites your bottom lip gently.

he pulls back first, and you swallow the whine you want to let out. "I have feelings for you too, Y/n. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure that out, but I'm here now." he smiles unsure, "And uh, if it's okay with you, I'd like to take you out on a date sometime. Or something like that." he says shyly.

you smile at his red cheeks before cupping his face and pulling him down into another kiss, this time taking your time as you slip your tongue in and tug gently on his bottom lip back with your teeth, before parting and giggling at his furious blush.

"I'd love to go on a date with you." You kiss his nose and smile before grabbing his hand and leading him back to the car. "And you're coming home with me tonight! I deserve cuddles," you demand as Wooyoung stares at you dopily from behind.

you would get all the cuddles you wanted, and more. Wooyoung would give the world to you if you asked, because that was exactly what you deserved.

Extra:

“C’mon, Junnie. Don’t be scared. I just want to introduce you two since you both mean so much to me,” you whine at Yeonjun, pulling his arm as he shakes his head back and forth.

he whines back at you, “Why would you subject me to this knowing how Wooyoung feels about me? You are cruel, Y/n. Very cruel."

you roll your eyes at his dramatic behavior, “This is exactly what I mean when I say your extra ass will get along with Wooyoung. You two act so similar it’s honestly kind of scary.”

“Yeah, except I don’t glare at people when I feel jealous.” he crosses his arms, staring at the ‘Welcome’ sign in front of the cafe Wooyoung was waiting for you two at.

you push him closer to the door, “Please, Junnie? It would really mean a lot to me,” you beg softly, knowing Yeonjun wouldn’t be able to handle your sad eyes.

he sighs, head falling down before he looks back up, “Fine, fine. Just stop looking like a kicked puppy.”

you cheer with your arms up, smiling happily as you drag him inside.

“Wooyo!” you call, watching Wooyoung look up with a cute smile. you let go of Yeonjun's arm as you take quick steps toward your boyfriend, “I know you two know each other already, but this is time for re-introductions.” you state seriously, grabbing Wooyoung's hand softly.

he stares at you sulking, but listens obediently. “Wooyoung, this is Yeonjun, one of my close friends. Yeonjun, this is Wooyoung, my boyfriend! I hope you guys can get along well.”

the two of them wave half-heartedly, mumbling ‘hellos’ but you figure that’s good enough for now. “Okay, I’ll go grab the food then,”

you ignore the way both of them turn to you with wide eyes, smirking as you approach the front and leave them alone with one another.

Wooyoung glares at Yeonjun as he avoids eye contact, finding the stain on the table much more interesting. “So. Yeonjun, I’ll be frank, do you like Y/n?”

Yeonjun's eyes snap to Wooyoung's serious ones as he sighs, “No, I only like her as a friend, I promise.” Wooyoung sits back unconvinced as he crosses his arms. Yeonjun figures he should come clean and explain himself properly, for your sake at the very least.

“I understand why you would be skeptical, especially since we did flirt before, but neither of us actually felt anything for each other from the start. We may have tried, but Y/n was way too in love with you to even bother looking at me, and I was still getting over a breakup so I never really looked at her like that.” he bites his lip, glancing at Wooyoungs face for a reaction and is in shock when he sees Wooyoung... blushing.

“She’s… in love with me?” he smiles elated, and Yeonjun wonders if he spoke too much. “Well, yeah? I thought… oh fuck.” he rubs his hands on his face; he was just fucking up one thing after the other.

he places his hands on the table as he watches you pick up the food making your way back to the table, “Okay, please keep this conversation to yourself otherwise I will never see the light of day again.”

Wooyoung giggles, “Mmhm, no worries!” he looks the happiest Yeonjun has ever seen him, and he sighs as he figures Wooyoung wouldn’t out him immediately at least.

you place the tray of food on the table, “What’s got you so happy, Woo?” you ask, smiling at his very obvious joy.

“Nothing, nothing,” he winks at Yeonjun, and he has to stop himself from face palming.

you glance at Yeonjun amused, “Okay, you guys can keep your secrets, don’t mind me.”

the rest of the lunch goes by shockingly pleasant, as Wooyoung and Yeonjun get along just like you knew they would. by the time the three of you are leaving the cafe, Yeonjun and Wooyoung have their arms intertwined as Wooyoung tells Yeonjun about the time he free styled for his dance exam after someone stole his choreography, Yeonjun listening intently as his mouth parts in awe.

you giggle as you watch them from behind. sure, Yeonjun might be your new rival for Wooyoung’s attention, but so long as Wooyoung was happy, you didn’t mind. the grin on your face only grows when you watch them hug goodbye.

this was your true happy ending.

unofficial tags: @scuzmunkie

[starcandybby]

slut! | sjy

now playing: Slut! (Taylor’s Version) (From the Vault) by Taylor Swift

minors DNI - 18+ only

jake x reader, idol!au, new relationship!au, fluff and angst

summary: after your first public appearance as a couple, you receive lots of backlash. two bottles of wine later and jake by your side, you figure it might be worth it for once

warnings: insecurities (lots), not-so-subtle lyric references, mention of a panic attack, reader consumes lots of alcohol (would not recommend), cyberbullying, insults, slut shaming (not from jake or reader), reader is self-deprecating, alcohol is used as a coping mechanism, reader has a huge drunken emotional breakdown. typos probably

wc: 2.4k

(a/n: the first work in my mini 1989 enha-hyung series :)) i hope you like it!! feedback is always appreciated <3)

The chatter between Jake and his stylists serve as the background noise to your racing thoughts. You smooth your hands over your dress. You feel pretty. You look pretty. Though your hands shake and the quiver of your lip is surely noticeable, you’re excited about your first red carpet with Jake. Or, that’s what you keep telling yourself. 

You turn to look at the boy in question. His tie matches the color of your dress perfectly. You look like a real couple. You are a real couple, albeit new. Perhaps, the journalists, the fans, even Jake’s management think you’re rushing into things. But, if you are in love as you feel, then why does it matter?

“Look at you, baby. You look beautiful.” Jake’s compliment pulls you away from your thoughts. He admires you with a look in his eye that you’ve been seeing a lot recently. It’s a look that contains a bit of softness and a lot of love. 

“Thank you,” you blush, “It was really the stylists, you know. They found the perfect dress and really took care of my hair and-”

“No, no, no, none of that.” Jake shakes his head at you. “You look beautiful, because you are beautiful.”

You nod and look down- hoping Jake can’t see your blush deepen. But, he can, and he sports a sheepish smile that matches his lovesick gaze. 

“Let’s go. We don’t wanna be late for our first red carpet.” Jake kisses you on the forehead and leads you out the door. His staff follows closely behind, and you meet his security outside the hotel room. The amount of people around Jake at all times was surely overwhelming at the beginning. You find yourself still adjusting to all the faces crowding your space, but you figure that’s just what comes with dating a high-profile Idol like Jake. 

You let Jake lead you blindly all the way to the black SUV waiting outside of the private hotel exit. You’ve been letting him do that a lot lately, leading you blind. You’re feeling lovestruck and you can’t help it. Especially when the man you’re infatuated with seems to reciprocate. 

Once you’ve settled in the car, reality begins to set in. A publicized event means lots of photographers, journals, and a million different eyes on you. Nausea begins in your stomach and works its way up to your throat. You look out of the car window, watching the city as it passes you by, trying to distract yourself from the oncoming panic attack. 

Jake seems to read your mind, however, reaching for your hand across the backseat and giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“It’ll be alright sweetheart. I can’t wait to show you off finally.”

For the umpteenth time that night, Jake manages to make you blush and successfully distract you from the impending evening. 

“I’m sorry, Jake. I’m so nervous. I’ve never done anything like this before- I don’t want to mess anything up, and embarrass myself. Or worse! Embarrass you!” 

Jake finds your ramblings adorable, as silly as they may seem. He knows you could never embarrass him

“Don’t worry. I’ll be by your side the whole night. And, I’ll make sure nothing happens. Plus, we got all dressed up. They might as well look at us” Jake sends you his classic puppy smile and leans over to kiss you on the cheek. 

“Ah! Jake! My makeup!”

His giggles dissolve the tense air in the car, and ease your worries instantly.

-

The red carpet is smaller than you thought, but still just as scary. You’re sure Jake can no longer feel his hand from how hard you’re squeezing it. But, no complaints come from him. He only adorns a wide smile and laps up the atmosphere. You notice that Jake seems to thrive here, not once shying away from the limelight. 

A tug on your hand pulls you out of thoughts. Jake guides you toward the carpet. You plaster on your most beautiful smile (you practiced in the mirror before), and settle next to Jake’s side. 

-

You stumble into Jake’s apartment, with the boy following close behind you. Giggles replace the apartment’s silence. Jake’s hands grab your waist to prevent you from falling over, prompting even more laughter. 

Perhaps, you shouldn’t have had so many glasses of champagne, but Jake insisted you have fun, that champagne would help you relax. And, boy was he right. You, then, insisted that you couldn’t drink alone, which led to Jake sharing in your champagne indulgence. 

“You’re so drunk.” Jake says, words mixed in with his giggles.

“Yes, I am! I’m drunk in love.” You cheekily reply. It’s Jake’s turn to blush for the night.

You somehow make it over to the couch. How graceful, you’re not sure. You settle in uncomfortable positions, that will surely cause you pain in the morning. But, that doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that you're here with Jake, in his arms.

-

You thought your first public appearance with Jake would be the peak of your stress and worry. You thought that first event would be the worst of it, and then, you would adjust better to the new attention coming your way. 

You, however, forgot about the internet. 

Your twitter feed brought you an article about your and Jake’s appearance at the event a few days ago. The article itself was nothing special, briefly recounting the night. You, however, were unprepared for the comments under the article.

Calling you tense, unprofessional, out-of-place. 

The worst ones were calling you a slut.

Jakeluvr02: why do i feel like she’s a slut lol

Starryn1ght: i wonder how easy she gave it up to get with a guy like jake 

Xoxoflwrs: watch her be with someone else in a few weeks. Wouldn’t be surprised.

The comments felt never-ending. With Jake being a high profile idol, it was expected to receive more attention than you were used to. But, this was far harsher than you could have imagined. 

You didn’t understand why strangers were saying such hurtful things about you. They didn’t even know you. They didn’t even know your relationship with Jake, and how real it was. 

You know you shouldn’t let internet comments bring you so low. But, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to take a step away from your phone, to leave such a nasty space. For some reason, you couldn’t. Something was forcing your hand to doom scroll for hours, investigating every single comment made about you. 

You’ve seen so many hate comments, you would think it wouldn’t hurt as much whenever a new one comes across your screen. But, it does. 

Hours pass and you’re pulled away from your doom scrolling by the pain in your neck. You check the time, and can’t believe how late it’s become. Jake had schedules all day, and mentioned something about seeing you later that night. But, at the moment, you were feeling so sad and insecure at the moment, you didn’t want to see him at all. 

Before you could text him to let him know the change of plans, your stomach growls. All the despair made you forget to eat all day. 

You patter toward the kitchen. You open your fridge to see….practically nothing. You sigh, realizing you forgot to get groceries. However, two bottles of rosé catch your eye. Wine sounds good right about now. It’ll ease the ache in your chest and the spiral of your emotions, at least temporarily. That’s what you think hope.

-

Unfortunately, your emotional ache only intensifies- much to your display and surprise. One and a half bottles of wine later, you’re sobbing. Chest stuttering as you gasp for air and tears roll down your cheeks. 

This isn’t fair. You did nothing wrong. 

You suppose your only crime was being at the wrong place at the wrong time, capturing Jake’s heart when everyone wants him.

You can’t even shoulder this burden with Jake. He seemingly hasn’t received even close to the number of nasty comments that you have. Nothing outside of the ordinary celebrity life. You pay the price, he doesn't.

Drunk, tired, and sad, you don’t realize how much time has passed. And, you definitely didn’t realize you had forgotten to text Jake to not come over after work.

Jake creeps into your apartment, having memorized your code, but quickly stops in his tracks upon the scene that unfolded before him. The last thing he expected to see tonight is you, curled up on the couch, bottle of wine clutched in one hand while the other was doing a poor job of propping you upright. 

“Baby, hey what’s going on?” 

Jake, the ever loving boyfriend, leaps into action. He sits beside you on the couch, helping you sit up straighter and face him.

“J-Jake?” You hiccup, his presence finally dawning on you.

“I’m here, sweetheart. What’s wrong? What has you crying?”

Jake’s words have the sticks and stones of internet bullies freezing in mid air. It makes you break down even harder, the alcohol doing nothing to discourage your emotional state. 

You break down, and he’s pulling you in.

Jake shushes you gently and runs a comforting hand up and down your back. You feel dizzy and light headed, the consequences from drinking so much wine on an empty stomach. 

“Let’s sober you up, yeah?” Jake gently removes the bottle of wine from your grasp and gets up from the couch. As soon as he leaves your embrace, you miss him, his warmth, and his comfort. You think you hear the coffee machine stirring awake but you can’t be sure. 

Minutes later, Jake returns to you, and sure enough, holding a cup of coffee. 

“It’s hot baby. Be careful.” He warns.

You nod, but still seem to not fully understand when you bring the cup up to your lips and wince when the liquid burns your tongue. 

You feel embarrassed, but Jake adorns a soft smile. 

“Once you finish your coffee, let’s talk please. You can tell me what’s wrong.” Jake says softly and places a comforting hand on your knee. You continue to sip, the drink clearing your head almost instantly. You realize you hadn’t said anything other than his name since he walked through your door.

“Thank you for the coffee. I’m sorry you had to see me like this. I should’ve warned you not to come over.” You apologize, hanging your head low. Now that you feel more sober, albeit still tipsy, you’re fully realizing what state Jake found you in. 

You and Jake are quite a new relationship. Though you told him you love him, he’s never seen you in such a messy and vulnerable state. You wish you had been more prepared for the moment, or more aware it was happening when it was. 

“Nonsense sweetheart. I’m more concerned than anything.” Jake assures you.

You shouldn’t have expected anything less from Jake. In such a mean world, he’s a gentleman.

You don’t even know how to explain yourself without sounding silly or childish. You’re still a little tipsy so you’re brain’s too foggy to really think through what you’re going to say. 

“People are so mean, Jake.” Your voice shakes and your words slur, but you’re making progress explaining to your boyfriend what’s going on. 

“Yeah baby? Who’s been mean to you?” 

You’re too drunk to notice the way Jake’s hand curls into a fist and shoulders tense. No doubt from the protectiveness he feels for you.

“I don’t know!” You wail, and Jake’s brows pinch in confusion. “It’s people on the internet! Jake, they’re calling me a slut and easy- and tense! It’s not fair! They don’t know me, and all I did was be your girlfriend and fall in love with you. And you don’t get any of it, Jake! I pay the price, you don’t! Everyone loves you. But, everyone just calls me a slut!” You completely break down, mixing your ramblings with your sobs. Jake nodes patiently, but his frown deepens as you continue. 

He pulls you in. Your head leans on his chest as Jake holds you close. You continue to cry, letting out all the pent up anguish from the day. You didn’t even know you could cry this much. The sobs turn to soft cries, queueing Jake for his turn to speak. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. When I asked you to be my date, I didn’t even think about what people would say. I should’ve protected you more.” Jake’s sincerity reaches through your tipsy state. “You know what? I’ll tweet out a statement right now. I’ll tell everyone to back off- and, I’ll tell my fans to fuck off. No one should speak about you like that.” It’s Jake’s turn to ramble. However, even you knew that Jake making a statement would only encourage the discussion of you on the internet.

“Jakey…you can’t say anything. It’ll just make everything worse.” 

Jake shakes his head, “No. This is unacceptable. I can’t just sit back and let this happen to you-”

“It’s okay. I promise. I’ll learn to deal with it.” 

Your apartment reaches a comfortable silence with Jake continuing to hold you on the couch. Though the apartment sits in silence, your minds do not. Jake’s mind spirals down all the different ways to make you feel better- to make the hate stop. Your mind fills with worries and insecurities about your relationship- what if it’s a bad idea?

“What if this is all a big mistake?” Your voice is so quiet- it comes out in a whisper. If you speak it too loudly, it might become true.

Jake’s eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”

“What if you’re making a big mistake? Dating me, I mean. It might blow up in your face.” You continue to whisper, not wanting any of your hypotheticals to actualize.

Jake giggles. Not at you of course. He just finds it a bit silly to ever consider falling in love with you to be a mistake in any capacity. 

“Never. Even if I knew it would all blow up in my face, I’d do it anyway. You’re worth everything, baby. Everything. I mean it.” Jake’s words reassure you more than he knows. (He knows). He even pulls you closer, giving your body a squeeze.

You lift your head up from your boyfriend’s chest to look him in the eye, faces inches apart.

“I love you.” You whisper, continuing to keep quiet. But this time, not from fear. This time, you keep quiet because no one deserves to hear these words except for Jake. They are for him only. 

Jake displays his signature smile and leans in to kiss you. A kiss that communicates love, reassurance, and everything in between. 

In this moment, you realize that even if they call you a slut, Jake makes it all worth it.

disclaimer: This is purely fiction- nothing in these works reflect real of these people. Additionally, I don't own any of the inspired songs.

[solbaby7]

Tainted

pairing: pervy!az x innocent!reader

warnings: sexual themes, mild pervy az (nothing crazy just mentions of stealing your clothes), swearing, prolly some typos, don’t judge I’m ovulating

summary: Liquid courage coupled with the burning desire to lose your V card—the perfect combo for a perving spymaster.

—

“Azriel.”

His knees nearly buckle at the sound of his name breathily huffing off your pouty mouth, lips swollen from the teeth harshly biting into them to hide the pathetic noises spilling free from such fleeting touches but your body was on fire.

Ignited by Azriel’s skillful exploration of your body pressed against his after he’d snatched you away before you could retire to your own bedchambers for the night. A few glasses of wine and a ridiculous amount of gossip with Mor and Fey later and you were shoved up against his door with his lips pressing kisses down the length of your neck. “Yes?”

“Please, need more.”

Countless nights spent imagining the sound of you begging for him with his fist wrapped around the stiff length of his cock, beads of precum dripping down for the perfect amount of slick but nothing his mind conjured up would ever compare to the real thing. Your hands grabbing at the scaled texture of his fighting leathers, the holsters keeping daggers and blades close to his person and within reach. “Do you even know what you’re asking for, sweetheart?”

There’s no room for embarrassment about your astounding lack of knowledge when it came to sex but you knew when things felt good—and Azriel’s hands grazing down the slope of your shoulders, fingers teasing over the shape of you when they drag down your sides felt fucking incredible. Even if he was trying to reduce you to some idiot; something that couldn’t be further from the truth. It was the whole reason you were brought into the Night Court in the first place. Rhysand had personally housed you, showed you his city and its people before confessing that he needed far more help with the political duties; someone to sort through the mountain of awaiting paperwork that required a watchful eye and careful decision making skills. Someone to sort the books and keep tabs on the items that usually went missing without second thought with so much fucking space to spare in the manor and Tarquin had mentioned you as a sort of peace offering to soothe over the blood ruby incident.

Four months had passed and the others had visibly noticed the improvement in Rhysand; less tense, more willing to disappear for hours with his High Lady. His absence left room for the shadowsinger to acquire a bit of an attraction to you—if he described it lightly.

One whiff of the white sage and vanilla that perpetually lingered on your skin and he was hooked. Vying for any reason to be stuck in the same room with you, shadows reporting back your every move from the second you’d open your eyes to the moment you closed them for bed.

Maybe, it was a little overbearing but even a thousand years couldn’t dim the possessive streak in his Illyrian blood.

“I’m asking for you,” The wine was giving you more confidence than you could’ve dreamed of without the liquid courage. “Do you understand that? I can spell it out if that’s more helpful.”

“That mouth of yours is what got you here in the first place,” Azriel’s voice is low and gravely, chest rising and falling with the anticipation of getting you out of your clothes. “Remind me again what it was you were saying back there with the girls?”

Your stomach clenches with need when he sucks marks down the length of your neck, across your collarbones and atop the flesh of your breasts that practically spills from the dress you wear. “Old age getting to you, spymaster?” The hole you dig is deep and there’s no way you’ll be pulling yourself out without help but that doesn’t seem to be a good enough reason to think before speaking. Something about how fucking hot Azriel got when he had a point to prove. “Are you sure you’ll even be able to get it up?”

It’s utter bullshit.

He’s been rutting his hard cock against the silky material of your skirts, fingerprints bruising their mark into your flesh as he battled the primal instinct to turn you around, bend you over and fuck you loud enough for everyone in the whole house to hear. The husky laugh that rumbles in your ear, broad chest vibrating against the swell of your breasts and the friction of him so close is torturous when he teases about—touching but not really giving anything. “I’ve dreamed about stuffing my cock down your throat just to shut you up,” You’re pliant in the skilled hands that lift you clean off the glossy floors and it’s instinctual the way your legs wrap around his waist.

His mouth is finally on your own, something you’d dreamed about. Not that you’d ever admit it—his ego would burst from the seams. “Should I go find a candle to light over a sweet treat? Maybe the Mother will grant you a birthday wish early.” You’re all talk, grasping for the strings of control that are gradually getting farther and farther away when he cuts off another smartass remark with a kiss so bruising you moan.

This.

This is what you’d been yearning for.

The girls hadn’t been nearly as thorough in their explainations as your books were but that could’ve been blamed on the wine bottles that started appearing on the table a much quicker pace. If you’d have known Azriel was lurking around the shadows then maybe you would have been more conscious about the words you used; the pitiful confessions of being so sheltered growing up and how you’d barely done anything past second base. “You could save yourself the trouble and just repeat what you said.”

“I said,” You teeth nipped at the plush of his bottom lip, pulse pounding in your ears when his hands work their way under your skirts, and up, up, up until there’s nothing but damp cloth blocking the warmth of this skin from reaching yours. “—that I just wanted to get properly fucked.”

A shiver runs down Azriel’s spine at the way the words are whispered in his ear and it only spurs his fingers to rub perfect circles on your clit through the fabric. He would’ve made a hundred bargains just to hear you swear like that again; breathier—more high pitched.

There was no way he could ever let you go now.

Not after he’d gotten his mouth on you—tasted your skin. He’d never be able to smell white sage and vanilla again without his cock swelling obnoxiously in his pants. His mind was already thinking of ways to make sure your scent never left his sheets. “Are you sure?” You pull away just barely an inch, eyes almost crossing when looking into his own with such want.

“I’m sure, Az.” Any other day you’d let your heart swell at his need for permission before continuing but the primal lust that rages between your thighs, arousal dripping and the sticky sounds your pussy makes when Azriel dips two fingers under sodden undergarments.

Keening whines and heavy pants, the ripping of expensive fabrics and the husky promise to buy a replacement and ten times that if you were good for him. “So much prettier than I imagined.” You sink into the plush of his mattress, body bare save for the jewelry and even like this you can’t reign in snark of your tongue.

“Just pretty? The males in my books are much more descriptive.”

Azriel laughs against your chest, body hovering over your own and—Gods, if only you could bottle his laugh and save it for when the skies went cloudy and grey. “Stunning.” A suckle on one hardened nipple, golden gaze more feral than friendly but you arch into it all the same. As long as it was him. “Captivating.” You’d known the spymaster was capable of torture but surely you’d underestimated the extent of his care. “Absolutely breathtaking.” The effort he put into learning every inch of you before even daring to do more, easing away any lingering tension until you were preening under the compliments and clawing at hem of his shirt to feel more. “I must be getting somewhere.”

“Not fast enough if you’re not inside me yet.”

“Impatient thing, you are.” Dark hair falls over his forehead, thick arms bracing on either side of your head as he frees himself from his pants. “I just want to take my time.”

“I’d say I’ve waited long enough,” Azriel’s pants aren’t fully down and you use that to your advantage when curling your fingers into the loops of his pants and tug him closer. Too much time had been spent on friendly conversation when the connection between the two of you was clearly anything but. “I’m not above begging.”

He doesn’t need syllables strung together to profess the way the things you say affect him. It shows in the way he holds you impossibly close, the achingly hard length of him sliding between slick folds as full lips mould to yours like they’d been made to do so. “Another night.” Promises forged with tongues and desperate hands grabbing at every inch of bare skin; the touch so branding you pull away gasping for air. It gets caught in your throat when he finally pushes in and the brief burn from the stretch is momentary when he distracts you so perfectly. “Fuck,” Every muscle tenses as Azriel fights every urge to spill his load from the fit alone; tight and warm, greedy hips wiggling as you whine for more. “Stop moving or this will be over much faster than either of us want it be.”

“I don’t care.” Half-lidded eyes clouded with need stare into his own, small hands tracing the curves of his tattoos; nails raking trails down the ridges of his abdomen as you buck your hips to his own. “We have all night—just move.”

Azriel’s cautious at first, trying not to hurt you but he doesn’t have the self-control to keep the gentlemanly act up for long. Not with you holding him in a vice-grip, wrapping around the thick length of him like you were made to. Spurred on by your moans he goes faster, unleashing the reigns on the shadows just thrumming with the desire to spill forward and assist. “Yes, yes, yes,” You chant in his ear, thighs wrapping around his hips and pride swells with the praise. “Fuck Az, right there.”

Skin slapping against skin, low grunts and breathy moans; the feeling of his cock filling you full and rubbing against every spot you never knew existed until every nerve was lit ablaze. It happens so quickly, the clench of your stomach, nails biting at his back so close to the base of his wings he can’t hold back the choked sound he lets out when you clamp down around him, walls fluttering with your release.

It takes no more than a few thrusts for him to reach the same fate, slowly riding it out as his soul came back to his body. “That was—“

You’re already nodding along; cheeks flushed, gaze a little hazy and Azriel relaxes into the gentle touches that follow after he’s settled beside you. “—yeah.” He pulls you in closer, strong arms holding you tight and he’s pressing a kiss to the top of your head when you speak. “Better than sneaking in my room at night to jerk off with my panties?”

His cheeks burn and he’s more than grateful that your face is tucked beneath his chin because he’s certain he looks like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar. “What? No, well…I can explain—wait, you knew?”

A soft laugh, nose full on the scent of him. “I’m a light sleeper and after a while you started getting a little sloppy.” His leg shifts under the thick duvet, slotting between your own and when solid thigh makes contact with bare cunt, the hunger you’d thought had been satiated was shuffling back into starvation. “Speaking of which,” All it takes is one firm rock of your hips for you to feel the twitch of his cock against your leg. “—you’ve got enough in you for a little more?”

Azriel pulls you from his neck to plant a claiming kiss on your mouth, a rumbling noise clawing from his throat when he guides you to continue the rocking of your hips. “I’m offended you’d even ask.”