#like she won’t be there for dress fittings or anything and I’m not even like engaged but damn

[bubbbii]

A Birthday Promise

title : A Birthday Promise

pairing : Jungkook x Reader

genre : kpop smut, Jungkook smut, BTS smut, very dirty content

warning : name - calling, doggystyle, missionary, scratching, hair - pulling, birthday sex, choking, 21+ content

Summary :

“I could tell .. you’re eyeing me like a piece of meat”

[Hope uu guys enjoyed the Namjoon Smut ☺️]

!PURELY FICTION! !NOT REAL!

do not steal idea or story without permission please and thank you :)

Legoo

_______________________________________________

“Birthday Girl!! Plans is still on for tonight?” “Of course! I had invited sum extra people but everyone is gonna have their own table and such and we’ll all be together” “Sounds like a plan! How’s you and uh … Lucas?” “We stop talking, you know that. I blocked him, but it’s rumors that he’ll be attending tonight at the restaurant” “Uh oh, are you worried?” “Of course not, try anything you know my brother don’t play that” “Yea Namjoon he’s uh … something” “Tell me ‘bout it”

“Dress is still as planned?” “Yess i thank my girl Rosie for hooking me up, it’s gorgeous … but she told me someone had payed for it and won’t tell me who did” “Ain’t that a mystery” “Yea … and i’m gonna find out” “Y/N!” I recognize the voice of my brother, sighing as i went downstairs out of my room. “I need to take that key away from you” “Oh I love you too” I chuckled, feeling the kiss planted on the top of my head. “I’M HEREEE” I chuckled, hanging up the phone as Lisa arrived at the front door.

“You could’ve told me you were coming while you were on the phone with me” “But why would i do that that’ll ruin the surprise” I chuckled, feeling her embrace as she closed the door behind her. “As a tribute, i will be driving Y/N to her birthday dinner slash party” “Aww thank you Jiminie” “Since when did you tribute to anything?” I glared at Namjoon at his comment as Jimin huffed. “Anything for Y/N .. she’s getting old” “Uhh one year older?!” “Exactly” I smacked his head rolling my eyes as i made my way to a chair in the living room.

“But you know i wasn’t the only one, your little boyfriend tributes as well” I scoffed. “Which one, for sum reason there seems to be multiple” “And we don’t claim Lucas .. we’re talking about the boyfriend you won’t give a chance” I sighed softly, crossing my legs as i had an idea on who the “boyfriend” was. “How come” “It’s your birthday .. you know he won’t give up. Especially now knowing that you’re done with Lucas? He’s definitely shooting it! And i’m letting him” I sighed again.

“Y/N he’s good! You think i’ll let him come near you if i didn’t think he was fit ? He means good , despite just being a little younger” “2 years Joon .. i don’t wanna be a cougar!” “Is that all Y/N? You have no reason to NOT give that man a chance trust me he’s more mature than Lucas will ever be and he’s OLDER than you! Kook means good … even Jimin said it” “And ya’ll two should know out of all of us that my spirit, never lies”

It’s true.

“I don’t know Joon .. he could just be doing this for a bet” “Sis listen, don’t let what Lucas planted in your head block something that could be .. a lifetime! You don’t wanna give it a shot because he’s younger than you .. you don’t wanna give it a shot because you’re scared to try again” I gulped, the words cutting deep as i took a deep breath. As much as i wanted to shove those words back down his throat. I know i needed to hear them.

He knows exactly what to say to me.

“Now, he’s gonna take you to your dinner, i already talked to him” “Hey!” “Jimin now you know you wasn’t takin this girl! You know me better than that” Jimin sighed, agreeing as I looked at the two. “What if .. i don’t want him driving me?” “I know you better than that” Namjoon replied, walking off into the kitchen as i chuckled. “Trust me .. this is gonna be good!”

“How come Lisa? He’s right .. i’m scared! Jungkook is .. 2 years younger than me!” “Uhh Chen is 2 years younger than me and look how we turned out! Age doesn’t matter when that person you call ‘young’ had to grow up early and didn’t have a choice. He’s good boo. Now come on, let’s gon head and get sum to eat, and get ready. Tonight is gonna be amazing” I smiled, getting up to join the 2 boys in the kitchen.

Tonight will, be amazing.

Time Skip.

“You look .. beautiful” I smiled at myself in the mirror, admiring every curve that was shown, ever piece of skin that was exposed, every jewel that shined in the light … 25 looking good on me. “Sexy .. Grown, and Sexy. You” “You think so?” “Oh i know so! They’re gonna be looking at you” Lisa responded, coming up beside me to fix finishing touches as she was all done up as well. “You’re the star my love!” Definitely felt good going into this dinner.

“Now let’s go ahead grab our belongings and head on downstairs Joon and Jimin are waiting” I sprayed my perfume on me, grabbing my purse and watch before turning off the lights in the room. “Presenting! Queen Y/N” the two boys looked and saw me coming down the stairs, the heels clicking ever so lightly on the marble floor. “Oh i’m getting my instagram photos in” “My little sister not so little anymore” I smiled widely, finding warmth in my brothers embrace. “You know you’ll always be Oppa” Namjoon’s dimples showed, planting a soft kiss on my head.

“The others just made it to the venue, everyone’s there waiting for you Y/N!” The doorbell rung as everyone grabbed their belongings and Lisa opened the door to see a tall figure. “Ms Y/N … your driver has arrived right on time” Lisa announced, smirking at the younger man as she locked eyes with me, whose eyes were on the younger man.

The man’s hair was long and curly, the silky button up hugging his big boy muscles just right, and topped it with nice slacks and dress shoes. “We’ll leave yall too it, just don’t take too long” Namjoon interrupted, the 3 leaving.

And it was just me and Jungkook.

“You look .. very beautiful” “Yea .. thank you Jungkook. You look good yourself” Jungkook scoffed, looking down at himself. “Love those heels?” “They’re comfortable and stilettos! Thank you very much” Jungkook chuckled as i chuckled along with him, grabbing my purse. “You’re gonna be great, star of the show” “I’m always am” The two couldn’t keep their eyes off each other, the tension rising by the second. “Give in already”

And Y/N was ready to do just that.

“What are you talking about” “All you can do is stare but won’t do anything? Why? You’re afraid?” “Jungkook don’t start this” “I will .. i am” Jungkook said with a quickness, crossing his arms. “Everyone as gifts, on the tables and such. But my gift? Is a promise to you that you’ll have EVERYTHING you need in life i made a promise to myself that when i was ready Y/N you’ll be the one i run to. And think that i’m joking?” I sighed, my body getting heated.

And i couldn’t take it.

I smashed my lips on his, wrapping my arms around his neck as he held me close. He deepened the kiss, feeling every inch of me as i cupped his cheeks into my hands. We kissed for a little more, before slowly breaking it, our foreheads connecting. “Fuck” I breathed out, my eyes shut as felt Jungkook’s embrace. “Consider this a teaser, for when I give you my present” Jungkook smirked, making me chuckle at his words. “Got me a little excited” Jungkook hummed, planting a soft kiss on my lips.

“Well let’s get going, you got hundreds waiting for you” I smiled, seeing him turn off the lights and grabbed me by the hand and headed to the car. Once we got inside and drove off to the packed venue.

~~

Everyone had a blast, the night went on with drinks, food, laughter. It was what I imagined it to be, I couldn’t ask for anything more. “You’re in your thoughts! What’s going on?” Taehyung asked, crossing his legs as he sat beside me. “Nothing nothing just, calming myself down it’s so much haha” “Girl, now you know i know you right? Is it Jungkook?” “Ok me and Jungkook had a heated moment before we got here” “I knew it” I sighed, landing a head on Tae’s shoulder.

“Tae he’s everything i want! Everything i … I need” “Baby stop letting that bitch of a man get in the way of finding your blessing! Jungkook IS everything you need and you know that, so stop trying to fight it because we all see right through you. He sees it the most. Give the man a chance Y/N trust my word!” I sighed, giving Tae puppy eyes. “You serious?” “I’m deadass! He don’t play bout you. Speaking of .. where is Kook?” I looked at our table, and he wasn’t near. Nerves struck me and Tae got up and searched the huge restaurant from our point of view. No where.

“Outside?” Me and Tae went outside, to see 4 men. And i knew exactly who they were. One, wish i didn’t make eye contact with. “Y/N! Tell these men to get off my fucking back!” “I’m her brother i do what i want” “Guys whats going on?” “He decided he wanted to cause ruckus so i led him outside and Jungkook and Joon just happen to follow” Hoseok replied to Taehyung. “Lucas what are you doing here?” “To celebrate your birthday of course! If these dickheads would allow me?!” “You’re yelling doesn’t scare me” Jungkook said with calming energy. My hand made contact with his causing him to look at me.

“Come on, please” “Oh so ya’ll a thing now?” “It’s not like that Lucas, and besides it’s nun of your business what i got going on right now!” “Oh really? I’m that easy to get over?” “Y/N-“ “No no .. she got it” Joon stepped in interrupting Jungkook. “We were happy! You did it because you were bored!” “No - YOU WERE HAPPY! Who told you i was happy !? It wasn’t like we were dating because of this - fairytale that you planted in my head … YOU DID THAT! Lead me on and dug a grave to put me in Lucas. I cut you off because if i held off any longer i would’ve put my OWN DAMN SELF in that grave. But listen here, what I got going on and who i got going on right now and got shit to do with you and you’ll never understand”

“This little boy-“ “Little boy!? Lucas let me tell you something here, this ‘little boy’ will ever be more of a MAN you’ve ever been Lucas. He doesn’t show that he just wants my body, whenever i can be his uber driver that’s convenient to him, he cares for me and i actually feel LOVED from this ‘love’ shit! So i’ll leave you with this .. may my scars, and my tears wear you like a damn sweatshirt to remind you and every girl you come crosses with that i gave you that ego. You’ll never find someone like me” I poured out, taking a deep breath as i turned around and went inside the restaurant with everyone following me.

“I didn’t think you were like that” “Then you must not know Y/N, look where she gets it from” Namjoon hummed, agreeing with Hobi as i shook my head. “I didn’t want you to see that” I spoke, looking up at Jungkook. “I was right behind you, you handled that very well” “ALRIGHT GUYS LETS SING HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!” Everyone gathered around, singing happy birthday as i blew out the candles afterwards.

The cheers filled my ears as i smiled ear to ear. “Toast!? Y/N .. cheers too?” Namjoon announced, everyone holding up glasses and the room went silent as they waited for my words. I took my glass, looking at the wine swirling inside. “Cheers .. to a better lifestyle, better days,” I started, now locking eyes with Jungkook. “And new beginnings” I finished, everyone cheering as everyone clinked their glasses and drunk what was in their cup. “New beginnings huh?” I hummed, feeling Jungkook’s warmth as he closed the gap between us.

“I’m curious .. wise person told me to stop being afraid. I-I’m ready” I responded, looking into his eyes. I couldn’t get enough. “You had a good time?” “I did, tonight was amazing” “Good .. because i’m about to make it even better” Jungkook whispered, winking at me before moving away and left out the venue. My eyes widened, speed walking towards Tae, Jimin, Joon, and Lisa who were all in a group.

“Jungkook .. he-“ “We saw it all .. don’t worry i took care of everything. The rest would be at the house when we’re finished cleaning everything and pack the gifts, you’re gonna love what he did for you” I smiled ear to ear, hugging Namjoon as i rushed out the door and into the car with Jungkook.

~~~

We got out the car, Jungkook opening the door for me and soon turned on the lights leaving my eyes to widened. Rose petals were all over the floor, the modern living room decorated nicely with dark red decorations. I soon saw the luxury gift bags on the table which made me run over to them hearing Jungkook chuckle at my silliness. “Jungkook!! For me!?” “All for you” I looked at everything, landing a hand on his chest. “You like it?” “I love it kook, thank you” I responded, locking eyes with him.

And i definitely couldn’t take it.

I kissed him hungrily, wrapping my arms around his neck feeling his hands hold me close. “I’ve been waiting for this” Jungkook whispered out, picking me up and set me on the spacious black couch of mine. He took off my heels, lips still attatched to mine as he took off his shirt, and unzipped my dress which left me in my bra and panties.

“Ohh my pretty girl, in my favorite color” Jungkook cocked having me roll my eyes. “I didn’t wear this for you” “Oh you didn’t wear it for me?” I huffed, knowing i was in a trap and he chuckled. “You look beautiful” I hummed softly, feeling him gently kiss on my neck down my collarbone, and all the way down to my aching hood. He cupped it with the tatted hand of his, making my body jolt feeling the pleasure rise in my body. “Fuck .. please” “that feels good?” he moved his hand in circulation motion automatically having my hips roll with it.

“Oh she’s needy, don’t worry … i’ll take good care of you” Jungkook commented, turning his voice into a whisper as he slid my panties to the side and threw them on the spot beside him. “Raise your legs up high for me” I did as told, spreading my legs and he dug inside, devouring every juice that dripped into his mouth. “Oooh fuck! Just like that, fuck!” “Hold still princess” my arms wrapped his neck, my thighs trapping him as it motivated him to keep going.

He was not slowing down.

“Y-You’re going so fast … fuck!” “You might have a clue on what i’m trying to get you to do” My moans got breathless, feeling his tongue work skillfully in my folds, the tip of his tongue flicking up my clit. “I-I don’t wanna cum yet! I feel close already!” Jungkook chuckled, pussy sounds feeling my ears as he slobbered all over it. “You’re gonna cum when i want you too .. we’re on the same page?” I whined, but i felt him stop as his eyes locked with mine with a quickness. “Are we?” “Y-Yes, yes daddy”

Jungkook wasted no time, going back and sucking me out. This time, he used not even half his strength just to get me over the edge. “I feel close already.. i feel close i think i’m gonna cum!” “Oh you wanna cum for daddy? Cum for me princess it’s your day, cum for me baby girl” My back arched, feeling my juices flow all over, Jungkook being there to suck it all up as he moaned with me.

“My good girl, my good fucking girl good job. Good job baby” I moaned softly, seeing him slowly move away as his fingers moved up and down the outside slowly making me jolt a little bit. “Baby sensitive?” “N-No .. no i want you, please” Jungkook smirked, hovering over me as he landed his lips on mine. He took his pants off swiftly, his lips still attached to mine as he grinds against me. “Feel that? Feel that hard cock?” Jungkook whispered in my ear, making me whine as i bucked my hips.

“P-Please put it in” “How about you do that?” I grabbed it, slowly stuck it in and he did the rest by slowly pushing it in. My eyes rolled at the back of my head, feeling the big cock fill every single corner every single space inside me. “So f-full .. shit” “Tell me when you’re ready, fuck i need to stretch you out” “Slow .. slow please” Jungkook followed orders, slowly snapping his hips against me, hearing myself hiss and my pussy clenching around him.

“Fuckkk it feels so good, keep going, faster” “You need to loosen up for me baby. Come on open up for daddy” Jungkook grunted, his hips moving a bit faster as i started to loosen up little by little for him. “How long we going for this pace?” “O-Ok you can go just try-“ Jungkook wasted no time and fucked into me with no mercy behind it. He snapped his hips with all his might, hearing my screams and moans fill his ears. “YES! YES YES YES JUST LIKE THAT! J-JUST LIKE THAT DADDY FUCK!” “Keep going for me, clench on me like that you like that shit? You like daddy fucking you like that you little slut?”

I couldn’t take it, he was making me feel good in all the right places … he knew i needed this. How much i wanted this. And i applaud him for not giving up.

Because boy i would be shitty.

“I feel close.. i feel close, daddy” “You wanna cum together?” I nodded, pulling him closer and smashed my lips on his, feeling his hips snap faster against me and my insides starting to feel tense. “You ready?” “Y-Yea yea yea i’m cumming! I’m cumming daddy cum in me!” Jungkook groaned, hiding his face in my neck and we soon came together, both of us releasing all the sounds we wanted. He filled me, fucking me slowly before stopping completely and pulled out the soft cock. “You’re ok?” I nodded softly, feeling his soft kisses.

“Promise me … we’ll stick it out?” Jungkook smiled softly, planting a soft kiss on my lips. “Consider this .. a Birthday promise”

[calebsmoocher]

After an argument, MC begins to navigate Caleb's 'lockdown' regime. When she thinks the coast is clear, she finds him half dressed. Should fit into the main story. Angst after a shaky reunion.

Word count: 1.5K

A/N: Yipee my first real tumblr post. My mind has been consumed by Caleb. Anyway, just a short bit of angst while i figure out how to use tumblr and get used to posting. woohoo

-

The glare of sunlight roused her from a night of intermittent sleep. She sat up with a wince, clutching her head as the sun’s harsh rays felt like a panging taunt. She fiddled with the curtains in between her fingers. They were wide open, a rare occurrence as Caleb was always the one to draw her curtains each night. But last night he didn’t, or rather he couldn’t, as she had shut him out before dinner. Slamming and locking the door. She rubbed her temple. She had lashed out at him for insisting he accompany her everywhere while she was in Skyhaven. 

“I don’t need your constant surveillance-”

“Surveillance!? You’ve been in Skyhaven for all but two days. And you think you know everything that’s out there. This isn’t the DAA; you’re not staying on a campus for God’s sake.” 

“So what?” She cried. “I’m a competent Hunter. I can hold my own ground. Why do you always diminish that?”

He scoffed, rubbing his jaw. “I never said you weren’t a good Hunter-”

“You implied it.”

“Let me finish.” His gaze hardened and she knitted her brows together in frustration. “There are things here unlike Linkon. Unlike anything you’ve probably encountered at the association. Fleet guards can barely hold their own as is.”

She shook her head. “Like what? What’s out there that’s so dangerous?” He looked past her into the kitchen, then checked his watch.

“Come on, dinner’s ready. You can help me set the table.”

She scoffed as he walked past her, throwing her hands up. “You won’t even answer me,” she yelled.

She hadn’t managed to get him to break at all. He would just ignore her or change the topic. Treating her like she was the same dumb kid from their childhood.

Her stomach growled. That’s what she got for having the argument right before dinner. The devastating weight of shame dwelled in her stomach, overpowering her hunger. She felt like a brat. Like the dumb kid she was so adamant she wasn’t anymore. Even if he was being considerably overbearing, she knew he was trying to protect her. The familiarity just let her lash out at him easier. Show him all the ugly sides to her that she hated so much.

She checked her phone. 7:40 AM. Surely he had left by now. She’d rather starve than have to face him at this moment. She’d apologise tonight, after she’d had time to reflect and cry about it. Rehearse something to get back into his good graces. 

She opened the door slowly and its hinges whined out. The house was eerily silent. So far so good. Stepping out onto the cold tiles, she peered around every corner till she made it to the kitchen. He really had left. She felt an inexplicable pang in her chest, but she brushed it off as her being on the brink of starvation. Pacing around the kitchen, she began opening each cabinet. Where did he store the bowls again? Much to her surprise, each cabinet was full. He had enough crockery, containers, and cutlery for a family of six. Did he regularly have guests over? Someone special maybe that stayed here for long durations of time? That same pang ached in her chest again. She really needed to find a bowl soon!

“Ahem…” 

She jumped, turning around at the sound. Caleb stood in the doorway, adjusting the cuffs of his shirt. He was wearing the grey button-up shirt of his uniform and his white pants. 

“...” She couldn’t speak. She felt like she had been caught red-handed. A silence enveloped him, both of them admiring the interior until their eyes caught onto each other. Now, neither could look away.

“Good morning,” he offered. 

“...Morning,” she replied. She rubbed her arms. “I thought you had left already.”

“Is that why you-” he bit back his words, sucking in a breath. “Are you hungry? You didn’t have dinner last night. Let me make you breakfast.”

She gave him a small smile. “You don’t have to do that. You’re going to be late.”

“I’ll call in. Please, let me make you breakfast.” 

Another pause.

“I’m…sorry for last night. I was…I was being irrational. And I lashed out at you.” She dug up the courage to look at him, but he looked equally apologetic.

“I’m sorry as well. You’re a brilliant Hunter. I didn’t mean to undermine you.” She smiled at his words, shaking her head. An awkward fog of tension still surrounded them. 

She tiptoed towards him, closing the distance. He gave her a once over. She was wearing a thin shirt and a skirt. He took her wrist into his clasp, rubbing over the goosebumps on her flesh.

“Your feet are cold. Let me…” He turned, exiting the room quickly. When he came back, he was holding a pair of slippers. He kneeled down, guiding her feet into them. That was strange. They were pink. And they fit her perfectly. Was the person who he was having over a girl?

He had always made her play the role of his pretend girlfriend when they were younger. Was it now that her role was no longer needed?

“So…Porridge? Or how about pancakes?” He gave her a warm smile, fighting to fill the silence.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll go get breakfast with a friend. I don’t want to make you any more late.” She returned his smile, gesturing for him to finish getting dressed. She had a few friends from school who had moved to Skyhaven. Surely one of them would be up for a last minute breakfast. 

But Caleb remained still, his smile faltering. “You’re going out?”

She furrowed her brows, trying to gauge his reaction. She sighed. “Are you serious?”

He let out a strained exhale. “Come on, I’m just looking out for you.” He was still on about this. Now that she thought back to his apology--and hers as well--neither of them had claimed to be wrong. 

She closed her eyes, turning to walk back to her room to get dressed. 

“Hey, wait. Wait.” He gripped her arm, moving in front of her. He gaped desperately at her, struggling to find words that wouldn’t push her over the edge.

“Are you really going to keep me in here?”

“No, I…” She searched his eyes. And in turn, he searched hers. She was unwavering in her resolve. He could see that. Would they really fight again? After they had just supposedly made up? He sucked in a breath before slumping his shoulders. “...Help me with my tie, won’t you?”

She blinked.

He picked up his tie from where he had laid it on the table. It was black and silky, and cool to the touch. He offered it to her, eyes pleading. After a moment's silence, she took it, their fingers brushing against each other.

“You expect me to believe you don’t know how to tie a tie?”

He shook his head pathetically. She smoothed out the fabric, hooking it over his neck.

“I wonder how you managed to get by without me,” she murmured under her breath, playing into his trick. As she tucked the fabric under his collar he lifted his hands to hold her arms, thumbs rubbing over her elbows. She was careful not to let her cold fingertips graze his neck. Every swallow, sharp breath, and rustle of fabric was amplified. It made her ears prickle. It made conscious of her every breath being so close to him.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised again. “I keep…messing up with you. It’s like everything I say and do is wrong.”

She sighed, looping the tie around itself. “No, Caleb. I know you mean well. It’s just- well I need to be my own person.” He nodded, hands shifting to smooth over her upper arm. 

“I’m not trying to control you. I just can’t trust anyone but myself to keep you safe.” She finished looping the fabric, pulling the tie tightly into position.

“Not even me?”

He didn’t reply immediately. And she sighed before bringing her hand up again to loosen the tie slightly. She smoothed out his collar. Then brushed down the fabric of his shirt.

“All done.”

Before she could leave he held her back again. He was always at a loss for words with her.

“...Thank you.”

She shrugged in his hold. “Have a good day at work.” But her words were bitter. And she sunk out of his grasp as soon as his grip loosened. He gave her cheek a parting pinch, offering an unrequited smile. Just like that he was back to his cheerful self. The walls around him hardening like steel. Impenetrable and unyielding.

“Okay, pancakes it is.” 

[confusionism]

“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” It’s an overused line for a reason, although the analyses of Aiden’s coaching style often likens him more to a wasp. Meticulous and territorial, although his current approach to his personal life is far sweeter than one might expect. For example, he mirrors the nose scrunch and declares, “No chia seeds. That shit’s nasty.” Plus, they’re a bitch to clean out of the teeth. “I’d rather choke on stale weetabix. But anyway— you won’t get stronger if you hate what you’re eating.” Half of performance is mentality.

The harshness of his chips away at the mention of Winnie the Pooh. He flashes a small smile and breathes out amusement. “I heard it was for St. Christopher, but yeah. That too. The homeboy from the Hundred Acre Woods.” Who’s to say that his mother didn’t have a fondness for that story? But all of this is stuff to unpack later; he’s done with all the literal belongings before him, and the dimming lights above Anna have him starting the snoozing countdown.

“I’ll come get you next time.” It’s his own way of saying: I miss you, I’m sorry I can’t be there for you. Maybe he can somewhat compromise with, “I’ll call again before I leave.” Even if it’s for five seconds, while he’s getting dragged downstairs— or maybe he can leave a voicemail. Anything when the person on the other side means everything.

“Rest up.” Delivered with an expression holding the wish that he were there to give her a little ‘good nap’ kiss. He’s reassuring both of them when he adds, “—My turn to bring my A-game.”

The next few hours proceed in a blur.

Running across the street to procure the goods is no problem, but nothing really prepares him for the sheer amount of glam that storms through the door. Yeah, it’s only three people, but it’s a couple of complete strangers (and one Petra) entering private domain. It all begins with a two messages.

[10:41 AM]: I forgot to say thank you again before we hung up. Sorry. Thank you.

[10:43 AM]: The team is getting ready. They told me to wear something that opens up front like a robe so I borrowed the really big one that you got on accident. It fits fine but the rhinestones are a lot. Hah

(Later, a photo comes in from Petra, featuring today’s subject in the hot seat at the very start of the process, quietly intimidated by the array of styling tools and makeup spread in front of him, and wearing the silky robe — and the bedazzled letters of Anna’s name — well.)

In most cases, Aiden would proceed strongly, like a stone wall or a rolling boulder, but in the interest of doing this correctly, he… Waits. Allows himself to learn. To be pampered, if the meticulous transformation of the kitchen’s island into the center of an at-home studio is any indication. Seriously. By midway through the second hour, his nails have never looked shinier, and he’s got to ask what that special aftershave is, because he wouldn’t mind a new addition to his regular regimen. The only struggle comes later. While Alex works out the necessary suit alterations with the other guy:

[03:54 PM]: I’m not saying sweet potato but you’ll never believe this shit

[03:55 PM]: Petra tried to tan me. TAN. ME. She used that sparkly brown stuff and it made NO difference

[03:55 PM]: Five min break. I think that broke her brain. I’m embarrassed for her. I’m using a wipe cause I don’t want to cover my freckles. What do u think? Fresh face is in right?

Finally… Finally, after experiencing a level of scrutiny that he could have never anticipated or imagined, Aiden is ready. Dressed to the elevens, if he does say so himself, and it’s apparent in the way he stands before the large, living room mirror. The final touch involves picking out a pair of cufflinks. Maybe something that matches his earrings? He doesn’t think it’s that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things, but he better not say that part aloud. He’s already gotten an earful about proper etiquette for buttoning and unbuttoning his coat when standing up versus sitting down.

Say what you will about looking good. It’s fucking hard. Better consult the expert.

[07:32 PM]: Finishing touches. Want to help?

"I'm sweet as honey, but if someone gets in my way... I sting." It sounds more aggressive than it should. But Anna's are alight with something driven and competitive. A side often hidden behind all her good nature and sweetness. In the same way Aiden's soft underbelly is a shown to a privileged few. So, too, is Anna's cutting ambition and honesty. Except... Well, he'd see it anyway. Aiden sees her so clearly, it would be startling if it didn't make the hairs in the back of her neck raise with a tremble.

"Just none of that cocoa chia pudding crap." The go-to of many a model dietitian, quoted to be comparable to chocolate mousse. Anna crinkles her nose, the texture alone haunts her still. Luckily, "Though I'm lucky. Your old bachelor pad--" Because he's a bachelor no longer, right? Not with hand towels with daisies and lavender candles, it's not. "Wasn't some exercise in weird, fit bro health foods." Sure there's protein powders and granola bars. But at least there wasn't an entire freeze of chicken breast and brocolli.

She pushes her recliner back, steady against her seat as it transforms into a lay flat bed. Maybe she could ask the attendant to get the sheets, too, but frankly Anna's never been fussed about it. Once the lights go off, she will too. "Christopher." She tests out, and she wonders why she never found it in his file. "Like from Winnie the Pooh?" Anna doesn't know, of course, but if it's not in his file, then it has to mean something. And anyway, "Whatever the name, I'm crazy about the guy behind it." Simple as that, really.

"I know, babe. I promise." She says, not impatiently. But with a sigh that shows she hears him, loud and clear. It's in her nature to do anything for him, just like it's in his to never ask for anything. The combination of the two works in their favor this time. "But," she lifts her head. "It won't stop me from trying to do things for you, if I think it's good for you--" Case and point, her team ready to descend upon his London flat with one swoop.

"Two hours. Just enough time to clean your flat." It's a joke, obviously. AIden's place couldn't be any cleaner. Nary a sullied white glove, should an inspector look for any evidence. "Hmm..." She's not thinking about his request. Rather... "Sweet potato." She decides. "Yeah. That can be our safe word. Text me that, and I'll call Petra up. Tell her to back down." She trusts her team, of course. But just in case. "I'll be home at 1? Maybe midnight?" Or, if the captain's latest statement is to go by, just in time to see the end of the party. But she doesn't dangle the carrot. Instead;

"And I'll be here anyway I can." Outstretched on the chair, close to snoozing. But alert enough to see him enter the flat, and smile. A resounding thought in her head; I love talking to you, I love thinking about you... Shaking away the tigthening of her heart, she sighs. "I can't wait to see you all gussied up. You're going to look amazing." Not better, because it's impossible. But amazing in a different way.

[the-scarlet-witch-22]

little rant, came to the realization today that when I eventually get married my mom definitely will not go. I don’t know why that hurts as much as it does. I’ve always known, like I’ve known for years and thought that I internalized it, but it’s just becoming more of a reality. I’m not even close to her but wow it sucks :)

[luveline]

hi hii jade! Was wondering if you could do something sweet and fluffy w poly!marauders where reader wakes up in a very cozy and giggly mood 🤭 just some warm domestic love hehe

thank you for requesting! fem, 1k

Someone is kissing his waist. Sirius squirms in his dozing, not expecting it as those kisses travel up his naked chest. Your laugh is breathy and soft as you kiss his shoulder, your weight strewn across his side and arm, your hand finding his cheek. 

Your fingers feel inhuman in the best way, like an angel. They spread across his face and neck as you hold him in place and kiss the skin where his neck meets his shoulder. “I love you…” you whisper, the ‘you’ turning long and slow like honey slipping down his front. “I wish you didn’t sleep so much.” 

You kiss him again, and with that you’re out of bed. Out of the room before Sirius has time to gather his wits, but he does gather them, because he needs more of whatever that was. 

What sort of sweetheart kisses somebody with such gentleness thinking they won’t remember? To press affection into him with want of nothing in return. He doesn’t even bother getting dressed, just scrubs at his sleep-swollen face and fishes the crusties from his eyes as he descends the stairs, numb-legged. 

James is grabbing you by the hips, helping you up onto the counter. His curls bounce at the back of his neck. “What’s gotten into you?” he asks. 

“Love, for sure.” 

“I can see that. Eggs? Omelette?” 

“Jamie, you can make anything. Actually, let me make you something–”

James pushes you further onto the top. “That’s okay, I’m cooking. I want to cook.” 

Sirius isn’t insecure, exactly. He feels he’s quite handsome when he attempts to be, and he knows you like him whether he’s trying or not, but he doesn’t know if you want to be interrupted, either of you, and it’s his private agony to wonder what to do. Then you spot him over James’ shoulder and your eyes practically sparkle. 

“Siri…” you sing-song, melodic as he crosses the kitchen linoleum to be with you and James. “Did I wake you? I’m sorry.” 

Sirius touches James’ elbow with love but swoops in on you. “Did you wake me?” he asks, kissing your cheek, his arms working behind you to hold you as his lips travel downward. He isn’t half as sweet as you were, too busy trying to squeeze your torso against his and mould you into a perfect fit against him and under his arm to really think about what he’s doing. 

“She did it to me, too.” 

Sirius pulls your face into his neck and turns to James with a grin. “And Remus?” 

“He was already awake. But she kissed him and did that thing where her eyes somehow look bigger and shiny and he had to go for a walk.” 

“He didn’t have to go for a walk,” you mumble from Sirius’ neck. “He always walks on Saturday mornings. He’s just getting some herbs from the greenhouse.” 

The back door opens on cue. Remus reappears with an aura about him much like yours, dropping the cut herbs on the cutting board, and stopping just shy of everyone to smile. “Did she do it to you, as well?” he asks. 

James squeezes Remus’ face in his hand, a quick thank you for the herbs that has the latter turning pink. 

“She waylaid me with kisses like a common whore.” 

“Sirius,” James says scornfully. 

“Me being the whore,” Sirius says. You laugh into his neck, seemingly with no inclination to leave the circle of his arms. “Will I ever see your face again?” he asks. 

“It’s cozy here. I wish we’d stayed in bed.” 

“We can go back.” 

“After breakfast,” James says, popping an egg on the edge of the frying pan, breaking the shell one handed as he gives the sizzling oil a shake. 

Remus not so subtly crosses the last of the space to slot himself between your right thigh and the counter. Sirius has the urge to cup his cheek as James had done —Remus has an extremely holdable face— but is distracted by your nose nuzzling the line of his throat. 

“I love you,” you say. 

Doesn’t matter who you’re talking to. All three boys melt. 

“I’d like to do some really weird things to you,” Sirius says. 

“Me too,” James agrees. “But we do need breakfast first.” 

“No one is doing anything weird to me, it’s the weekend.” You beam as Remus laughs, seemingly your intention. 

Sirius backs away to a polite but still close proximity. He isn’t selfish; being in a ‘strange’ relationship like this one is a lot of reading cues, and a lot of just plain old climbing into people's laps when you want them, because nobody can truly read minds. Yet Sirius can see that you’re in the sort of mood where everything you touch turns to gold and all the boys want a piece of you, and who is he to get in the way of that? 

Well, he’s your boyfriend. He takes a kiss before he delegates himself to being herb-chopper, stealing glances of you from the corner of his eye. 

You tease a strand of Remus’ hair behind his ear. 

“Weird stuff is for weekdays only,” you’re murmuring. “What I want today is the real romantic stuff.” 

“Then you can have it,” Remus murmurs back. 

Sirius will happily be doing very romantic things to both of you after his omelette. James, too, if he’s so inclined. 

[kissitbttr]

miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude

-

“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”

miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.

does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.

“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.

the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,

he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,

God, you’re such a perfection.

“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”

Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.

“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,

rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,

“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”

he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips

you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.

“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,

“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,

your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”

he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.

his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”

“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,

giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,

Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”

“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”

he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”

“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.

“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.

turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”

his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,

“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing

and they say romance is dead.

-

cake testing with miggy!

[tarotsoul]

ghost in the wind — part three

summary: as feelings progress and truths unfold, you're left with a decision that could end your entire existence as you know it. the mother has a path for every soul, perhaps this was where yours was supposed to end.

warnings: swearing, mentions and brief descriptions of sexual abuse, consensual sexual themes, mentions of death and suicide.

word count: 5.8k

series masterlist

Feyre Archeron could never begin to imagine the pain and horror her older cousin had faced in the mortal lands. Rhysand hadn’t shared that image, hadn’t shared the memories he’d witnessed when he took some of that pain away from you. 

She didn’t need her mate to share those visuals. Not when she felt every ounce of anguish through their bond. And every day since then, she had not been able to forget it. 

Another two weeks had passed since your arrival, three in total of your being in the Night Court, and you were finally beginning to work through your trauma. 

The offer had been there to find your own place of residence, to have that independence if you so wished. But after speaking with Feyre and Rhysand, after learning it was in fact Nesta who had imposed the leave Y/N be rule… you realised just how much you loved living in the House with your family. 

Your friends. 

So when you’d finally accepted Mor’s desperate pleas to take you shopping and fill your empty wardrobe…

“You’re going to need another dresser.” 

You blinked, taking in the mess around you. Your entire closet was stuffed to the brim with dresses, blouses, sweaters, coats…

And the pile on your bed…there was no chance of those articles of clothing fitting in the closet too. Nesta was right, you definitely needed another dresser. 

“Rhys is going to lose his shit when he finds out how much we spent.” 

Your eyes widened at Nesta’s words, not quite picking up the teasing tone she spoke in. Mor shot her a look and threw a sweater at her face. 

“She’s kidding,” Mor reassured. “My dear cousin has more money than sense. This won’t have even made a dent in his wealth.” 

A relief, but that guilt began to creep its way into the pit of your stomach nonetheless. You were ashamed to admit that while you had fun shopping with Mor and your cousin, you hadn’t even taken a moment to realise how much everything had cost. 

Nesta threw herself onto your bed, right on top of the throng of clothes you needed to find a place for. “I’m thinking we raid Rhys’ wine cellar tonight…”

A gleaming smile radiated off Mor’s face in agreeance and they both turned to you with upraised brows, expectant. 

You pursed your lips, an apologetic smile on your face. “I told Rhys and Feyre that I’d babysit Nyx tonight.” 

Nesta huffed and threw herself back on the mattress again, clothes bouncing and crinkling as she did so. Mor raised another brow, as if that wasn’t a good enough excuse. 

“So? I’ve gotten drunk while watching Nyx loads of times.” 

Nesta seethed at her. “One, that’s my nephew and I never want to hear you doing that again. And two, Y/N’s tolerance to alcohol won’t be as strong as ours. Two glasses and she’d be borderline incapacitated.”

Despite the slight insult, a laugh bubbled up your throat at just how right she was. Because you’d never even drank a sip of wine in your life, and Nesta knew that. 

“I’m surprised you don’t have plans with Azriel…” 

Mor was prying, you knew that. But you had no control over the heat that made its way across your neck and face. 

“We’re just friends.” It wasn’t a lie. You’d spent a lot of time together the past couple of weeks, and he was one of the only people you felt truly comfortable around. 

Mor gave you a knowing look. “Mhm, tell that to his shadows.” 

You frowned. “What do you mean?”

Nesta scoffed, sitting up again. “Az’s shadows are basically an extension of himself.”

Mor hummed. “They don’t do anything unless Azriel commands it. Or sometimes, they’ll do something based on his emotions or thoughts. They’re so friendly with you because Azriel likes you.” 

Your cheeks burned. You hadn’t realised his shadows touching you was a product of Azriel’s emotions. And the more you thought about it, there hadn’t been a time since you met him that they hadn’t touched you in some way. 

You didn’t say that, though. No. Azriel clearly had no qualms about other people noticing, but that did not mean you were willing to gossip about it. 

You did not need to allow silly fantasies to root their way in your mind. Azriel was your friend. And you were okay with him only wanting you as such. 

Within an hour, Mor had disappeared to tend to her own duties and just as Nesta was about to leave for hers, she grabbed your wrist and motioned for you to look at her. 

“I’m proud of you, you know.”

She didn’t need to say anything more. Those words were enough—more than enough. She saw you, she recognised everything you had been through and everything you did every day to overcome it. 

I’m proud of you. 

The last and only person to have ever told you that was your mother. 

And because you saw her too, because you remembered fhe young mortal woman she was before her own struggles of turning Fae and adjusting to her new lifestyle, you found yourself saying, “I’m proud of you, too, Ness.”

Nyx had been wonderful to look after that night. 

You’d gotten all the cuddles and boyish giggles, the beautiful little smiles and a few stinky diapers to go with it. You loved every moment with the little babe, and when Rhys and Feyre returned from their night off early in the morning, you offered to sit with him again whenever they needed it. 

But despite how fulfilling and wonderful it had been, it had also hurt. You wondered if you’d ever be blessed with the opportunity to carry and birth your own child. Wondered if you’d ever even find someone to want you in that way. 

Especially within Prythian. 

It was another late night for you, though your reading sessions had taken you from the lounge to the library. And you no longer spent them alone. 

Azriel sat on the couch opposite you, his nose deep in a book as you watched him. In the past week, you’d spent a lot of time together. It ranged from walks into the city to sitting and reading in the library until early hours of the morning. 

You’d grown accustomed to his presence, his scent often able to calm any anxiety or qualms you felt. He had noticed, of course, he wasn’t a Spymaster for nothing. But Azriel did not mention the change in you whenever he was around. 

He basked in it, in the way you appeared so much more comfortable with him. You weren’t afraid to speak up, to ask questions or acknowledge whatever was on your mind. 

You were coming out of your shell and it warmed Azriel’s heart to know that he was somewhat of the cause for it. 

“What does salacious mean?”

Azriel blinked repeatedly as your voice broke him from his thoughts. Salacious? His throat tightened. You’d often ask for definitions of things you were unsure on, sometimes even asking how to pronounce words you had never come across. 

But salacious? 

“Are you reading Nesta’s romance novels?” He quirked a brow. 

Your lips involuntarily pouted at him, your own brows furrowing just slightly as you rested the open book back into your blanket-covered lap. “Yes. Why?”

Anxiety creeped its way into your stomach, rooting deep into your flesh from the inside out. Reminders of how this used to go flashed through your mind and suddenly, it felt like you were back in the village, back in the mortal lands and living with Rafe. 

A tendril of darkness peaked at the corner of your vision and you focussed on it, watching it slowly dance across your knuckles and weave between your fingers in a calming manner. 

Shadows. Azriel. Library. Velaris. Safe. 

And just like that, the anxiety un-clawed its roots and crept away. 

Azriel nodded ever so slightly to the book, knowing exactly what had just happened with you but acting as if he didn’t. “Salacious means…having inappropriate interest in sexual matters.”

There was no hiding the heat on your cheeks—the way it burned your soft skin. You tore your gaze from his as quickly as you could, unable to contain your slight shame and embarrassment. 

But Azriel did not mind one bit. 

Azriel had secrets. He supposed that being the Night Court’s Spymaster, it was to be expected. But these secrets were different from the others, something he kept locked tight in his mind for the past month. 

And it wasn’t the secrets that had him moving closer and spending all of his time in the lower level of the House. No. That was very much you and your presence and whatever it was in your soul that called out to his. 

He couldn’t stay away—though, it wasn’t like he even tried—for that pull was far too strong for even his willpower. 

He had suspicions. Suspicions of a golden thread that started in his chest and ended in yours. He knew it was far fetched, knew he was only hurting himself by entertaining the complete insanity of the idea. 

You were human. Mortal. And mortals didn’t have mates. He told himself so every day, and right after, like clockwork, he countered his own sound advice with the one thing that had been troubling him the most.

Because what mortal could plant and bloom a patch of tulips with nothing more than a thought and a touch. What mortal could speak so clearly to the earth and create life right before another’s eyes. 

Despite the possible threat that could pose for his court and his family, Azriel had kept that tidbit of information to himself. Just for now. Just until he could make sense of it. Then, and only then, would he bring that information to light. 

Because Azriel did not feel any ounce of danger or ill intent from you. He did not feel anything but warmth and intrigue and that godforsaken sensation when you grew excitable over something. 

He couldn’t take that from you. Not when you were finally coming out of your shell, finally talking and laughing and going as far as joining him and Cassian for training twice a week. 

“If sex makes you uncomfortable, there are other romance novels without that.”

Heat warmed your skin again. Shadows dared to intertwine with your fingers. 

“No, it’s not that.” You played with his shadows, allowing them to caress your skin. “Sex doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I’ve just never had a good enough experience to understand much.”

He didn’t push, didn’t ask further questions. You wouldn’t be embarrassed for this, for something that was not your fault. You wouldn’t cower anymore, hide what you felt or thought. No longer would there be repercussions for speaking your mind. 

So you spoke again. 

“Rafe was the only person I’d ever…it’s just different to read it, to have it described as something enjoyable.”

Azriel’s knuckles turned white. Something enjoyable. He’d never experienced it to be anything but. His soul almost cleaved in two at the thought of what you’d endured. 

Azriel dared to glance at you again. “Sex with the right person can be very enjoyable. It should be nothing but beautiful.”

He stiffened then, blood thumping in his ears. His shadows stilled, noticing the shift in your scent just as their master had. Sweet, all consuming arousal, and Azriel did not miss the way your thighs pressed together in impulse. 

He swallowed thickly. 

You broke his gaze, your own heart thumping sporadically as you stared at the pages on your lap. You couldn’t help your mind wandering to thoughts of him, of experiencing that with him. You knew it was wrong. So, so wrong. 

“The thought of being intimate like that with someone new…” You couldn’t find the words to express the fear and anxiety that came with that thought.

Azriel listened intently, breathing deeply. 

“I want to experience life the way it should be experienced. Not the way others have pushed it upon me.”

He leaned forward slightly, resting his book on his knee. “You control your life now, nobody else. If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.”

You wondered then if he could see into your mind as Rhysand could. If he could feel that shift in the air. If he could smell it on you. That want and desire. You would not apologise for it. Not anymore. 

“But if it feels wrong, is that not my guts way of warning me?” You countered. 

Azriel smiled, just barely. His knuckles still white. “It’s your guts way of protecting you. Because you’ve never experienced anything beyond what others bestowed upon you.”

Gods above. 

An ache fluttered in your chest, just above your breast and you absentmindedly rubbed at it, disrupting the neckline of your shirt. Azriel’s eyes squinted at the exposed skin, at the mark that adored your flesh. 

“Are you hurt?” His tone was primal, protective. 

You paused your movements, following his gaze. “Oh, no.” You pulled your shirt a little lower. “Just a birthmark.”

He needed to compose himself, needed to stop allowing his mind to wander about other areas of your concealed skin. He felt like nothing more than a big brute. 

Your soft, airy giggle woke him from his daze and he looked over to find tendrils of darkness caressing any inch of your skin that they could. Gods, if he didn’t have a leash on his emotions around you, how could he control his damned shadows. 

“It’s like they have a mind of their own.”

They didn’t. But he couldn’t correct you. Not without exposing the fact that they only fed off their masters emotions and desires. Not without exposing the fact that Azriel wished he was the one touching your skin and not his shadows. 

He swallowed again, throat dry. 

“Nesta told me that they’re an extension of yourself. That they only act if you will it.” You didn’t know why you said it, why you thought you had the right to speak that truth. 

But you would not apologise, even as Azriel remained silent for a few moments. Partly out of shock, partly in awe. But that was another thing he would not speak aloud. 

“Sometimes they can act on behalf of my emotions. My desires and wants.”

You dared to meet his honey eyes. “And that’s what you want?” You were breathless, a feeling in your stomach that you’d never once experienced before. “You want to touch me?” 

Neither of you knew where this confidence had come from, but Azriel did not question it and you did not apologise. 

He shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t repeat the words that echoed in his mind and soul and body. But, Gods…he could not seem to regain any semblance of control when he stared into your eyes. He could not lie to you, could not hide what he felt. 

“I want to do a lot of things.” The admittance was barely audible, nothing more than a breath he’d been holding but you heard it all the same. As though you’d demanded the words out of him. 

You couldn’t look away, even if you tried. Your entire being was encapsulated by him. Your chest heaved, legs ached. The shadows slowly left your shoulders and neck, returning to their previous position at your fingers. 

“But above all, I want you to be comfortable. Happy.” 

Something compelled you to stand, the shadows seemingly guiding you to their master as your book toppled to the couch. He watched with a hungry gaze, one full of faltering self-control. 

If you want something, despite how wrong that desire may feel at first, take it.

Take it. 

Take it. 

“I’m comfortable with you.” 

The shadows moved like a breeze between you both, tugging you closer and closer. Nothing else mattered, not in that moment. Not when your soul felt like it was singing, like it was exactly where it longed to be. 

Azriel stood slowly, towering above you once at his full height. You strained your neck to meet his gaze and he bent his to come closer. You could feel his breath dance with yours, could feel his hard chest press upon your soft one. 

No part of you felt nervous, no part of you felt unworthy. 

But Azriel…he didn’t know what to do. For weeks he’d been dreaming of this moment, dreaming of the taste of your lips, the touch of your skin. He slowly raised a scarred hand to caress your warm cheek, and you didn’t cower or shy away from his touch. 

A test, perhaps. To see if you really could handle the intimacy of another male so soon after what you’d endured. You didn’t falter, didn’t break his gaze. He wanted you, more than he ever wanted anything else before. 

“What you went through…”

“I don’t want to talk about what I went through,” you cut him off. “That was then, this is now. I don’t want to live in the past.”

Take it.

Take it. 

Your lips…so close to touching his. 

The shadows swirled in delight, excitement.

Azriel knew this wouldn’t be just a kiss. This wouldn’t be meaningless. He felt it, in every part of him, he felt the way your entire being sang to his. He wanted to lay his soul bare before you. 

He itched to brush your hair behind your ear, to hold you and taste you. But Rhysand’s voice echoed through his mind, beckoning him for his assistance. He closed his eyes, huffed out a breath.

“Rhys is calling for me.” 

Azriel stepped away, removed his palm from your skin. You swallowed, stepping back and letting your eyes fixate on the rug beneath your feet. He cleared his throat, struggling to reign in those shadows of his. 

“I’ll come to you tonight…we can talk then.”

But had Azriel waited just a few moments longer, had he given into the urge to brush your hair from your face, he would’ve noticed the slight point that had formed at the top of your ears. 

Azriel didn’t meet you in your chambers that night. And you didn’t see him the next morning. Or the day after that. 

Cassian had mentioned that Rhys sent him on a mission. That he would be back in a few days. 

But something was wrong, you could feel it in every inch of your body. An ache that only got worse with every passing moment. You tried to ignore it, tried to relax in a hot bath with soothing lavender oils. Nothing relieved the pain. Nothing soothed the ache.

And when you left your bathroom and found your once round ears now pointed, and a trail of tulips following in your wake, your legs carried you toward the kitchen before you had a moment to consider it. Cassian and Nesta sat at the table, giggling over their breakfast when you stumbled toward them. 

“What’s happening?” Your panicked tone caught their attention, eyes wide as they stood and took in what lay before them. 

From the stone ground, moss and grass and flowers bloomed as though you stood in the middle of a field. Daisies and buttercups sprouted in your hair, roots of trees tangling around your limbs. 

Everything was so loud yet muffled. Like every word was screamed in your ear but somehow underwater as Cassian called out frantically to Rhysand. Neither of them went near you, even when Rhys flew through the open balcony doors, Feyre in tow. 

They looked at you with nothing less than concern and fear. 

“What in the Gods is happening to me?!” You demanded. 

Rhysand held Feyre back as she attempted to near you, his gaze locked on you as he assessed the situation. But it wasn’t the flowers or grass or roots that he watched. It was you, and the way your crescent-moon birthmark glowed something violet. 

Rhys had known, had suspected something lay dormant within you. From that moment he entered your mind, when he gazed upon that luscious field that seemed to call to you with promises of something new. 

He’d never witnessed such before. Not in the most powerful of Fae had he ever stumbled across that. 

With a very careful step forward, his gaze demanded yours. Feyre had told him of your mother, of her death and your marriage to Rafe. And his voice was soft when he finally asked the question that had been on his mind ever since. 

“What happened the night your mother died?” 

The world went still, cold. Feyre whirled to him in protest. 

“Rhys—“

“—it was a house fire.” 

All eyes turned to you, to the patches of bloom that haltered their growth. 

Rhysand took another step closer. “Where were you?” 

“I—“

A heat unlike any other licked at your skin, waking you from your peaceful slumber. A heat so unwelcomed that you bolted upright in a sheen of your own sweat. 

You could hear the wood of your cottage crackling under a burning flame, and smoke quickly infiltrated your room. You coughed, attempting to swat it away as you squinted in the darkness. 

“Mama!?” You called out, panic stricken in your voice and body. 

Fear began to cripple you, began to take away any sense of self preservation. You couldn’t leave your bed. Your door now engulfed in flames, you screamed. 

“Help! Someone, please help!”

No one was coming. This was the end. You couldn’t move, couldn’t get to your beloved mother. A shrill cry, unlike anything you’d ever heard before, split your heart in two. 

A scream of pure agony and fear tore through your throat, your eyes clenched shut as you gave your body over to the fire. 

Only the next breath you breathed was clean and cold. And your sheets were no longer beneath you, no. Now you laid on the rich soil outside of your home, your fingers rooting themselves into the dirt. 

You screamed and sobbed, unable to do anything but watch as the fire claimed your home and your mother. 

You were sobbing, collapsed to the ground as you struggled to breathe at the memory. 

Rhysand dared another step closer, kneeling before you now and his eyes held such sorrow, such remorse. 

“Y/N…” he spoke softly. “Was your mother ever accused of being a witch?” 

Nesta seethed, threatening. “Rhysand, that’s—“

“How do you know that?” Everything felt very, very still. No one should have known that. No one of these lands should have known that. 

Rhys didn’t answer your question. And despite the sound of large wings breezing through the sky, you did not look away from the High Lord. Not even as Azriel rushed into the House and his heart sunk at what he bore. 

“The day I entered your mind and took some of your pain away, I felt something. Something within you that I have never, in my 500 years of life, felt before.”

Azriel took a step closer. He should have said something when he first noticed the flowers. Because now, whatever power you had…it was consuming you. 

“I’d like to try something,” Rhysand proposed. 

You struggled to keep your breathing even. “What is it?” 

Another step closer, a warm hand on yours. 

“I’d like to enter your mind as far back as it will allow me. Just to see if I can find something.”

Violet eyes watched yours. “Find what?”

He squeezed your hand in reassurance. “Something to make sense of this.”

A moment of pause, to take in your surroundings. The flowers and soil had sprouted to cover the entire expanse of the lounge floor, your friends and cousins standing just beyond the brush of it. 

Eyes flickered to something hazel. Azriel. He stood in the soil, flora coating his ankles and he struggled to keep a tight leash on the shadows that fought to reach you. 

You looked back at Rhysand. 

“Will it hurt?” 

He shook his head. “No, not if you don’t resist.” 

That suddenly sounded an awful lot like your past. Memories of Rafe pinning you to the bed—scolding, reprimanding, promising no pain if you didn’t resist. 

This wasn’t like that, you had to remind yourself. You were safe. They only wanted to help. To understand. 

Azriel stepped closer, ignoring the silent warning that Rhysand whispered into his mind. A scarred hand out held, you took it. And Rhysand took that moment of distraction to enter your mind. 

The first memory he saw was one from just days before. You and Azriel reading in the library, the shadows that swirled your fingers and arms, the near-kiss that escalated into nothing. 

He dug deeper. The next, of you and Azriel again, exploring the city where you left a trail of green and brown tulips in your wake on the embankment of the river. 

Deeper and deeper, until the memories showed you living in the mortal lands. A blow to the face, to your stomach and your head. Rafe seething above you as he shouted and belittled you. 

Deeper, to a memory of your husband pinning you to the mattress, of his body crushing yours as he stole everything you never offered. 

Every memory Rhysand met, you re-lived them. 

A little deeper and he was watching you at the Archeron household, helping Elain plant seeds, watching Feyre paint, reading with Nesta. 

Deeper and deeper he went, passing the memories of the fire, of your mother, until he found exactly what he was looking for. 

“She is my child too, Selenthia. You cannot keep her from me.” A voice you did not recognise. A memory you did not recall. 

“For her protection, I will do what I must.” Selenthia seethed, coddling you closer to her chest. “No one can know what she is, or she’ll be hunted for the rest of her life.”

The unknown male huffed. He was beautiful. Tall and lean, strong and commanding. But there was something about him. Something not quite right. 

“So you plan to lock her away for the rest of her life?”

Selenthia bared her teeth. “I would never lock my child away. She will live her life as a mortal. I won’t subject her to a life like mine or yours.”

A moment of silence. “You cannot hide her from what she is.” He spoke softer now, edging close to peer at you, his daughter. 

“What do you plan to do when she first bleeds? When her ears point and her power grows—“

“That won’t happen.” There was no room for discussion in Selenthia’s voice. She placed a finger over your heart, a familiar violet glow permitting from her skin to yours. 

“What are you doing?” That male’s voice, cold once more. 

“I’m burying her power. So long as this wyrd remains on her skin, she’ll be safe.”

Selenthia pulled away, just enough to take a look at the mark that marred your skin. A mark two shades darker than the rest of your flesh, the shape of a crescent moon and no larger than a fingernail. 

“There. Nothing more than a birthmark.”

Rhysand retreaded from your mind, panting and shaking. Tears streamed down his flushed face, your own skin staining with silver, too. 

“What is it?” Nesta demanded, daring a step closer. 

But those tulips and daisies and buttercups…the soil and grass and roots, they all began to sink into the ground until nothing but the florals in your hair remained. 

“My mother…she…she was a witch. A healing earth witch. And my father—he…”

“Your father was Fae.” Azriel breathed, his eyes focused on the point of your ears that peeked through your hair and flowers.

“He was of the Night Court. A High Fae male.” Rhysand added gravely. 

Azriel’s hold on the shadows loosened and he allowed them to caress you, comfort you. Your hand never left his. 

You pulled away from Rhysand, clutching at your chest—at that crescent moon you always thought was a birthmark. Your mothers protection all along. 

“When you crossed the wall into the Fae lands, your power tried to break through. It was your mothers mark that had been keeping it buried with you all these years.” 

You dared a look at your cousins. But they looked at you with nothing but sorrow and anguish. No fear. They did not fear you, they did not pity you. In their eyes all you could see was longing. A longing for you to no longer live in such agony and hardships. 

“Our mothers were sisters. Does that mean—“

“I don’t think so,” Rhysand cut you off. “If they held the magic you do, I believe their power would have shown by now. They were Made. So it’s possible the Cauldron could’ve interfered with it if that were the case.” 

It was too much. All of it. Reliving those memories again, seeing your father… You couldn’t do this. Couldn’t have magic and powers. You could not be half Fae, half witch. 

It would be easy to give up. It would be so easy to ignore it until it killed you. So easy to just let go of everything. But a pounding in your soul begged you not to. Begged you to fight with everything you had. Begged you to live. 

“Burn the mark.” 

All attention snapped to you, flickering from your face to the mark on your chest that finally stopped glowing. 

“Are you insane?” Nesta seethed. 

You looked at her. “I don’t think I’d be far off to guess that if I don’t burn this mark, this…power will consume me entirely. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to be so lost because I have no idea who I am. This is who I am, whether I like it or not. I won’t run anymore.”

Feyre stepped closer, crouching to your level and taking your spare hand in hers. Azriel still held tight to the other. “If you wish to burn it, it will unleash whatever power you have at full force. You don’t have any training, any control over it.” 

You felt sick to your stomach. “I don’t want to die, Fey.” 

And that was enough to enrage Feyre in a way she’d never once felt before. “You are not going to die. Do you understand me?”

Azriel squeezed your hand, begging for you to look at him. You couldn’t. You couldn’t stomach the thought of him looking at you any different than he had three days ago. 

“Rhys, fetch Madja. We will burn the mark in a controlled environment. Where any fallout can be contained.”

You shook your head, not willing to risk a single soul because of your selfish decision to live. 

“No,” you said. “Drop me to the mountains and I’ll burn it myself.”

Nesta scoffed. “Oh, you are insane.”

You seethed at her. The first ounce of anger you’d truly shown. The first time you’d ever directed it at anyone but yourself. 

“This isn’t your decision. I will not risk anyone. Azriel can take me to the mountains and you can all keep your distance. At least until it’s safe.”

Until it’s safe. As if you knew for certain you’d survive it. You truly weren’t sure you would. There was nothing more to discuss, your tone made that clear enough. 

“Fly me, winnow me…whatever. Just do it now before I change my mind.”

Within a blink, your body was shivering and you were no longer in the House of Wind. Shadows encased your entire body, darkness swarming every inch of you. You said nothing as Azriel held you, nothing at all as he flew you across Velaris and toward the highest mountain just outside of the city. 

Only when he landed, when he refused to remove his hold from you, did the darkness dissipate and hazel eyes gazed into yours. 

“I’m staying with you.” 

“No, you’re not. I won’t risk your life, Azriel.” 

He set you to your feet, holding your hands now to keep you close. A plea of desperation swam in his eyes, his entire body yearning to take you and find another way to fix this. 

“There is no other option. If I don’t burn this mark, I don’t know what my power might do. It might kill me, it might destroy this city. I cannot risk anyone’s life for mine.”

Azriel parted his lips to speak but you shook your head, squeezing his hands. 

“If I don’t survive this—“

“Don’t.”

��Please, listen to me.” Silver lined your eyes, blurring your vision. “If I don’t survive this, I want you to know how special your friendship has been to me. How much I care for you, for your family.” A sob tore through your throat. “And I am so incredibly sorry for burdening you all in this way.” 

You reached on the tips of your toes and pressed your lips to his. Warmth and love and the most raw emotion could be felt between you both. An apology for not having longer, a prayer that there would still be time. 

A fuse lit within the pit of your stomach, in the pit of Azriel’s. Tears stained your lips, stained his. In that moment, you were one. Whole, as though you always should have been. 

You pulled away first, forcing your hands from his hold. You took several steps back, blinking through the distorted vision and swiping away and evidence of the fear that crippled you. 

A puff of violet darkness misted beside Azriel as Rhysand winnowed to the mountains. Pain flicked through his eyes, regret and the same sorrow you saw in your cousins. 

You did not meet his gaze. 

“Summon a fire.”

He did as you asked. And handed you a blade. 

You did not grant them another look, did not give into the pleading in your mind to watch them leave. Or else you would’ve seen Rhysand drag Azriel off that mountain. You would’ve seen the anguish on the Shadowsingers face. 

Alone. As you had been your whole life. Though the weeks spent in Velaris had given you a taste of what could’ve been. You’d treasure those memories in the Hereafter. Those and the precious ones of your late mother. 

For they were all you had left. 

You did not allow another tear to fall. Not as you hovered the blade over the flame, not as you tugged your shirt down and took a deep breath. 

For if all you were ever meant to be was a ghost in the wind, you were content to know you’d reunite with your mother soon. Where you would no longer feel such pain. 

You didn’t want to die. But if this was all the time you were fated to have, then so be it. Better you than someone else. 

“Keep them safe.” A whisper to the winds, if they deigned to listen. 

With a final breath, you pressed the scorching blade against the mark on your skin and the entirety of your captive power unleashed upon the mountain as your body allowed it to consume you. Until you saw and heard and felt nothing at all. 

From below, the city shook, a thundering boom and a gust of aftershock and pelting mountain debris that blew the Inner Circle back. 

Then there was silence. 

And Azriel’s soul bellowed. 

a/n: so a LOT happened in this chapter and there is still a lot more to happen, i'm hoping i can fit it into two parts but it may be stretched into three, we'll have to see!! i'm so grateful for all the love you guys have been giving this series and i am so excited for you to find out how it all ends!!

if you enjoyed it, please consider giving it a like and reblog, your feedback is always appreciated <3

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[thoughtfulfiction]

The P Word

Author’s Note: Two fics in two days?

In 2013, Joe sent a dm to a recruiting analyst for scout.com, asking which camps he should attend because he was flying under the national radar.

Most four star recruits get about 20 college offers. He had 12.

At Ohio State he sat on the bench for three years, only gaining attention as a scout team player who would later have to graduate in three years just so he could transfer and get some playing time elsewhere.

That same scout team player would become the best player in college football and a Heisman trophy winner and the number one pick in the 2020 NFL Draft. A few years after that fateful private message to Dave Burk.

Robin Burrow had been there the entire time. Through every shining moment and the times that seemed rather dark. She drove two hours to do his laundry just to make sure he was physically and mentally healthy when he lived in Columbus, has attended every game since he began playing sports, made him snickers salad when he tore his ACL…and when he tore his scapholunate ligament in his wrist. All in all, she’s been a constant presence in the midst of all of the mayhem. To be frank, there’s nowhere else in the world she’d rather be than between him and anything that could possibly serve to harm him or cause him any pain, no matter how old he is.

That included protecting him from himself.

The last few months had been filled with joy. After the news of his engagement, the wedding planning process had been smooth. You and Robin along with your mom, had gone to several appointments together and Joe had even added his input in most of the details without you feeling like you had to twist his arm and force him to participate.

You were now in the home stretch of the most important day of your lives. Less than two months from now you’d be saying “I do” to the love of your life. And Robin had taken her role as future mother in-law very seriously. You knew that Joe was a mama’s boy, his brothers much older than him with their own mom, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that he was Robin’s pride and joy. But not in a creepy way that would get them to star in a TLC show. It was just very evident that she was proud of him and his achievements and that she didn’t mess around when it came down to business.

After one of your dress fittings, she pulled you aside. “There’s one quick thing I need to mention to you. You’ll be getting a formal document in the mail in the next few days. Nothing huge, just a formality that Peter and the team drafted up for you to sign. I hate the word prenup but that’s essentially what this is.” She said in a matter of fact way. “We just need to make sure to dot our i’s and cross our t’s if that makes sense. Get the boring stuff out of the way so that we can focus on showering you and Joey with our love on your special day.”

“No that makes complete sense, just send it over and I’ll sign whatever you need me to. Thank you Robin seriously, for everything. You’ve made planning this entire thing a breeze.”

She shakes her head with a genuine smile, giving you a warm hug. “This has been an honor, I’m so happy for the both of you sweetie. I’ll see you in a few days for brunch at your house? The kids are so excited they won’t stop talking about it.”

“Yes absolutely, I can’t wait either it’s been so long since we’ve gotten both families together it’ll be really fun.”

There weren’t many opportunities for your family to interact with Joe’s and vice versa, unless everyone met at a football game but that wasn’t exactly quality family bonding. That felt more like a collective screaming match where the adults pregamed with beer and the kids wore his jersey. Most of them didn’t really know what was going on in the actual game. So you and Joe were going to host both sets of parents, all of your siblings and their kids in order for everyone to really spend time together before the wedding.

A few days later, you were finalizing the menu with the catering company when Joe came home.

“It’s gonna be like Cheaper by the Dozen in here tomorrow,” he notes, grabbing a Body Armour from the fridge. “Are we sure we’re ready for this?”

“We kinda have to be. Should we do smoked salmon or shrimp crostinis?” You held up one of each and let him examine them. He snagged the salmon one first and took a bite then did the same with the shrimp.

“Definitely the salmon. What time is everyone getting here?” The catering people jot down their last notes and head out the door after you and Joe thanked them.

You could tell he was going to need time to mentally prepare in case he got overstimulated. “They’ll be here at 1pm, so you can probably get an early workout in and take a nap afterwards,” walking over to him on the other side of the counter, holding his face in your hands. “I know you get cranky when you’re tired and Uncle Joe needs to be at his best tomorrow because the kids will need a QB for their flag football game.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, sticking out his lips that are begging to be kissed. You happily grant his wish, pressing your lips against his, giving him a quick smooch. He asks for a few more, about to get lost in a full make out session when a stack of papers on the counter catch his eye. Joe pulls back so abruptly that your face smacks against his chest.

“Sorry baby,” he cradles your head, reaching around you to grab the piece of paper that’s on top. You take that as your cue to go after his second apology for nearly giving you a concussion. That chest is a brick wall.

The more he skims the words, the tighter his grip gets on the little sheet and the confused look on his face deepens. “Um…what is this?”

“What is what?” You give him a look that matches his energy.

He holds up the paper. “This. What is this? Where did you get it from?”

You look around the room to make sure you aren’t getting Punk’d. “Wait—are you being serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking,” it wasn’t a question. He’s legitimately starting to look upset. “Who gave this to you?”

“Joe,” you let out a dry chuckle, “your mom did. Said it was a formality and that I should sign it and give it to her so she can hand it off to Peter so your lawyers can process it.” When your fiancé continues to stand there motionless in the middle of the room, that’s when it hits you. “Did—did you not know about this?”

He usually has something to say about everything, so watching him silently shake his head is a little scary. Joe places the first page of the prenuptial agreement on the table with a heavy sigh, visibly trying to compose himself. The man had the patience of a saint, known to have blow ups on the field but that was Football Joe. Off the field Joe was calm and rarely ever let things get to him. You’d probably only heard him yell twice in the entire time you’ve been together. And now he was dead quiet. You didn’t know what to do with that.

“Joe, your mom is just trying to protect you. Get this out of the way so that we can—”

“Please don’t try to defend her right now,” his tone was laced with venom, a seething anger you hadn’t seen before and weren’t too keen on getting familiar with. “I don’t like that this was just drafted, printed and handed to you without my permission. She and Peter shouldn’t have done that. And my mom definitely shouldn’t have ambushed you with this.”

Now he was being dramatic. “Robin didn’t ambush me! She told me a couple days ago and I thought you knew so I didn’t mention it.”

“I would never do that to you,” he says with a pain in his voice that makes your chest clench. “WE, you and I should be talking about this. Not my mom and Peter. Jesus.” He rested his arms on the counter, running his hands through his hair.

You hated seeing him get worked up like this, crossing the room again to place a comforting hand on his back. “Why don’t you talk to her tomorrow, I’m sure she didn’t mean to upset you. She most likely just thought she would do this for you so you didn’t need to worry about it.”

“That’s the thing, this isn’t something she should be doing for me. We’re getting married. You’re going to be my wife. There’s no reason she needs to be handing you documents on my behalf like you’re some fucking stranger. I don’t care how ‘busy’ I am. You come first.” You can feel the tension in his muscles even when he stands up to his normal height. He’s really trying to keep it together, giving you an empty kiss on the cheek before heading into his office to cool off. An hour later you head up to check on him, assuming he has his headphones on and can’t hear you, you find that the door is locked.

Tomorrow’s brunch is going to be very interesting to say the least.

Joe surprised you by being in bed by the time you came upstairs to get ready to go to sleep. You thought for sure he’d be on a run to clear his mind. As soon as you climbed in next to him he put his phone away, wrapping his arms around you and giving your body a squeeze.

Whatever private meeting he had with himself must have done the trick because he was actually letting you be the big spoon for once. His touch was soft and intentional, the previously icy aura was liquified and only warm and cuddly Joe remained. “Are you okay?” You asked him and he nodded without looking at you. He just interlocked your fingers in his before sitting up.

“Switch me.” You knew the little spoon wouldn’t last long. “That’s better,” he sighs kissing your head, feeling at home with your arm draped across his waist.

After a few seconds of silence he mutters, “I’m so sorry this is happening. Are you sure you want to sign up for a lifetime of this?”

You look up to meet Joe’s gaze to see if he’s trying to be funny. “A lifetime of you? I can’t think of anything I would want more. The rest of it is just extra, the good and the bad. As long as I have you I don’t care.”

His shoulders sag once again in relief, “good.” Joe peppers a few kisses on your neck, making his way up to your jaw, taking his sweet time until he got to your lips. A joyous hum leaves his mouth as the kiss grows deeper, each swipe of his tongue against yours makes you feel dizzy…love drunk. Nothing compares to the way that Joe kisses you, sensually careful but hungry at the same time, almost as if this is the last thing he’ll ever get to do. This kiss is different, it’s a promise to always protect you, to never let the outside noise sway what his heart knows is true. He’s found the one person in the world that consistently makes his heart sing and no one—not even his mom—will have the final say. And he was going to make that very clear.

When Joe sluggishly came down the stairs the next day rubbing his eyes after his nap wearing a hoodie and cargo pants, you were just thankful he wasn’t in sweats.

“Hi there Sleeping Beauty, I’ve already gotten a few texts that most of them are about five minutes out.”

“Great,” he grunts, parking himself on the couch, “I’m starving,” he scoots around trying to subtly adjust himself.

Joe stares at you , running his hand down your thigh. “Hungry…for food right?” You give him a pointed look.

“Yeah, yeah for food. What did you think I meant?” He laughs as he catches the pillow you launch his way and scoot far enough away that he can’t grab you.

“Don’t. Today really needs to be a stress free day. Can you promise you will be nice and not yell at your mother?” And with that statement he is no longer in the mood.

“I will not yell at my mom,” he crosses his arms over his chest with a scowl only like a youngest child could. “Can’t promise I’ll be nice.”

Before you can negotiate any further the doorbell rings and your first guests arrive. Nieces and nephews come running in, suffocating you with hugs and the youngest one tugging at Joe’s legs demanding to be picked up. Less than 30 minutes later the entire backyard is filled with kids playing tag, drinking juice boxes while the adults enjoyed the appetizer spread.

Joe wasn’t making it blatantly obvious that he was mad but he wasn’t exactly hiding it either. He kept the greeting with his parents short, keeping his distance throughout the afternoon focused on entertaining the kids and playing the perfect host.

“I just realized I never asked,” Codie, one of Joe’s sister in laws speaks up. “Where are you two going for your honeymoon?”

“Bora Bora! I can’t wait,” you respond, topping off her wine glass.

His brother Dan’s ears perk up. “We were thinking about going there for an anniversary trip. Are you guys staying in a resort?”

Joe shakes his head, “I got us an underwater bungalow. The view is supposed to be insane.”

“Yeah I bet,” your dad notes.

“Take lots of pictures,” his dad adds in.

He waits for a second taking a mental note of his mom’s silence throughout the conversation, nudging you to make sure that you’re on the same page. By the time everyone was gone you needed something stronger than wine. Robin and your mom insisted on helping you clean up but you let them know that the caterers were coming back to grab everything. As you bid your family goodbye and thanked them for coming, your mom whispered in your ear, letting you know that the man inside was a keeper. You responded by telling her you intended on keeping him.

Once the door was fully closed you could breathe a sigh of relief…until you heard Robin ask Joe what was going on with him.

Here we go.

Joe didn’t respond. He just went up to his office and came right back down with the prenup in hand. “Care to explain?”

“Oh,” she looked rather unfazed, “Peter and I thought that—”

“And that’s where you went wrong,” Joe interrupts, voice surprisingly even. “You and Peter don’t get to ‘think.’ You don’t get to do whatever you ‘think’ I need. You have to ask me.”

You can tell she’s visibly taken aback at how this has gone. “It was not at all my intention to go behind your back. You’re just very busy and now with wedding planning and everything else, it just made sense to get it put into place so you’d have one less thing to worry about.”

“Mom, I get that. But you crossed the line here. I’m an adult who would’ve liked to have a mature conversation with the person I am going to marry about a topic that is extremely uncomfortable for everyone. It is not your job to play the middle man here. There is no middle man. This is between y/n and I.”

The tension in the air was getting a little too thick for your liking. You stood next to Joe, running your hand down his arm trying to diffuse the situation as much as possible. “Okay I think you’ve made your point. Robin, I am not at all upset with you, this can all be resolved rather—”

“I am upset with you mom. There was no reason to hand over that document without at least giving me a phone call,” Joe counters, starting to stand in front of you a bit like he’s physically shielding you from her.

“Now Joey I don’t think your mom meant any harm,” Joe’s dad speaks up seeing his wife almost in tears. “Why don’t we all just take a breather here.”

You nod in agreement.

“I’m so sorry, to both of you. In hindsight that wasn’t the best way to go about it but like you said this is uncomfortable. I thought keeping it casual would remove some of that awkwardness and I just made it worse. I really am sorry.”

Joe still seemed unmoved but you really didn’t think she needed to apologize this much. He just told her he appreciated the sentiments but that she needs to recognize that’s he’s an adult, telling them goodnight and immediately heading upstairs.

You’re left to walk them out alone, giving them both hugs goodbye. “Honey I’m so sorry,” Robin states again, “I never want you to think that I don’t love you or that I was intentionally going behind Joe’s back. I was just making sure we have all of our bases covered so we aren’t sweating the small stuff on your big day. I hope you can forgive me.”

“You’re totally fine, I understand. And I agree. I think he just got a little freaked out at the reminder that his life is abnormal. He wants things to be simple and sometimes they just aren’t. That probably stressed him out a little. Or a lot.”

It feels good to leave their tense interaction with her smiling. Even though it didn’t reach her eyes like usual, it was still a small step forward.

“How can you not be upset about this?” Joe asks after brushing his teeth.

You focused on what was going on at your sink, taking your time to complete your skincare routine. “Because I see where both of you are coming from. You have every right to be angry at her for doing this behind your back. But at the same time I understand why she feels like she should get a jump on protecting your assets.”

“Protect my assets…” he scoffs, “…from you? What’s mine is going to be yours.” He hands you a towel after you wash your face, having memorized the steps at this point.

“Yeah ok, legally. But your accomplishments and accolades are yours. That’s how you got here and your mom saw all the blood, sweat and tears that went into you being in the position you are today. She may have overstepped a little but you’re still her baby at then end of the day and sometimes it’s hard for them to recognize that they have adult children who are fully capable of making their own decisions.” He grabs the moisturizer off the counter and places it in your hand as you laugh, whispering thank you. “My mom has done the same to me, not to this extent obviously because we’re in completely different tax brackets but—they just want to make sure we’re okay no matter what.”

Joe leans against the counter, deep in thought. Growing up with his dad coaching it was usually just the two of them, she drove him to basketball and football practices and tournaments, took him to school and worked the entire day at school and came home still ready to dedicate all of her time to him if he asked. “I was too harsh wasn’t I?”

“A teeny bit? Maybe? I do thoroughly appreciate you looking out for me though. Going to bat for me against your mom of all people.”

He shrugs, giving you a hug from behind, resting his chin on your head. “She protects me so somebody’s gotta protect you. That’s what I’m signing up for and I promise to always take that job very seriously.” I should put that in my vows, he tells himself. He leans over a little more to press a kiss against your temple.

“Is that a promise?”

“That is a promise,” he holds out a pinky, making you gasp as you turn around.

“Isn’t a pinky shake you and Ja’Marr’s thing?”

Joe looks at you sheepishly, smiling so wide his eyes crinkle. “I won’t tell him if you don’t.”

You lock your pinky in his, kissing the smile off of his face.

That night before he went to sleep, he texted his mom telling her that he loved her. You gave them privacy when she came over the next day, smiling and hugging it out so you assumed everything went well. You hoped to have open communication with your kids even as adults one day, but did not envy the journey that your parents were constantly navigating. This once tiny person you created and had to make sure to teach them everything was now not only getting married and had established their own life but in Joe’s case everything was heightened. She’s been there through her son being the overlooked player who Urban Meyer said threw like a girl to now if he so much as has a paper cut an entire city of people, a whole fanbase is worried and asking for minute by minute updates on his condition. You couldn’t imagine the whirlwind that must be.

So you were going to sign that prenup whether Joe liked it or not.

“We need to decide on bridal party gifts,” Joe suggests a week later. “I was thinking about getting the guys customized golf carts. They could be delivered straight to their houses after the wedding or I could have them dropped off the day we get and they can drive around the property whenever they need to get somewhere? What sounds better?”

“It sounds like you’ve had this very specific plan and just couldn’t wait to make your big announcement. How am I supposed to compete with that?”

Joe laughs, grabbing his water. “You can give them all Cartier bracelets, have the wedding date engraved on the inside. That’d be pretty cool.”

Cool and expensive. “Don’t do that, I can actually hear what you’re thinking.” Curse him for knowing you so well. “We’re only gonna do this once, might as well do it right. Make it a great experience for everyone we love.”

“Fine. You’re right. But we are not doing an ice sculpture then.” He gives you a blank stare but says nothing, both of you know that it’ll be coming back up sooner rather than later. “There is something else we need to talk about though.”

He rolls his eyes, deciding this is the perfect time to get up and put his plate in the sink, like you can’t just follow him. “We really don’t have to do this.”

“Oh but we do. Joe seriously we’re gonna have to figure this out. It’s important.”

He lets out a deep breath, looking up at the ceiling before putting his eyes back on you. “I’m just uncomfortable with any conversation that plans a breakup. I don’t ever want to breakup.”

“Then let’s not breakup and we won’t even have to worry about any of this. We’ll discuss the details, I’ll sign it and we’ll never talk about it ever again. Deal?”

You place a hand on his cheek and he kisses the inside of your hand before he speaks. “Deal. I can’t wait to marry you. Even got a countdown on my phone.”

“That’s probably the single most adorable thing you’ve ever said.” He pulls his phone out to show you a countdown app with a timer down to the hour the ceremony is supposed to start. A picture from your engagement shoot is set as the background. “I can’t wait either. I love you, so much.”

“I love you more.”

[nativegirltapes]

can we get a lil fic of angel being her bratty self while there shooting obx and there all in trailer and she’s js being bitchy per usual 😓

notes, drew is a meanie in this oops. this ask is soooo old but i found it in my drafts and decided to finish it <3 not proofread sigh.

͛ ꩜ 🎀 𖧧˚ ༘

“well can you just calm down right now?” drew pleaded with you. “we can talk about this later.”

“calm down?” you tilted your head, making small steps closer to drew. "that bitch just mumbled some shit about me and you want me to calm down."

you and drew were finally alone in his trailer, the day was going great; you were shown around, you got to see his castmates, whom you love and love you, you were just happy to be there. that was until you were walking back to his trailer and one of the extras had something sly to say to you. “can someone get this little ass girl outta here? she’s just causing a scene.” the girl’s words replayed in your head like a record, you were seething with anger and embarrassment, and drew seemed in no mood to deal with it, which made you feel even stupider.

“i mean, do you even understand why i’m upset?” you furrowed your brows and took a seat on the booth seat attached to the dining table. “yes,” drew agreed, rubbing his forehead. “you won’t stop talking about it.”

“okay well you don’t seem too concerned.” you rolled your eyes, feeling dumb for even making a big deal about this but your feelings were actually hurt and a little comfort from your boyfriend could help, but drew continued his search for a snack in the mini fridge, not really paying you any mind.

“what do you want me to do?” drew threw his arm in the air, slamming the mini fridge door after no success finding anything to eat. “do you want me to go out there and fucking yell at her back?”

you felt bad that part of you wanted to say yeah. yeah you did want him to go out there and defend you. “i don’t know. maybe do fucking something.” you jumped out of your seat in disbelief that drew was somehow turning this on you. “i can’t believe you.” you shook your head and made your way out of his trailer. you weren’t sure where you were going, but you surely didn’t want to be around him.

“are you serious?” drew huffed under his breath, but still followed you out the door. he was upset, but still wouldn’t let you walk around set while throwing a fit with tears in your eyes.

you sped up after you felt him following behind you, his mumbled “really?” and “can you stop?” didn’t stop you. you felt stares from the cast and crew as drew practically chased you around set .

that was until you accidentally walked yourself into an empty dressing room where drew now had you cornered. “can you stop being dramatic?” you sat down on a bench and sassily crossed your arms. “dramatic?”

"you know what i mean." drew sat down right next to you and placed his hand on your thigh. not wanting to give into him; you turned your body away from him. "you're being so mean."

"i know baby," drew's thumb drew circles on your thigh. "i'm sorry. it's just been a long day." drew placed a soft kiss on your cheek. you slowly turned yourself back towards him, a small smirk taking over your face, it was so hard to stay mad at drew, especially when his bigs arms were protruding out of his shirt. "i love you." drew whispered against your eat. "okay well, i'm still mad."

[astonmartinii]

into the arms of another part two | max verstappen social media au

pairing: max verstappen x reader

part two to this !! part three

yourusername

liked by arthurleclerc, maxverstappen1 and 661,230 others

yourusername: winner winner chicken dinner !! congrats maxy i’m so proud of you always

view all comments

user1: i know charles’ head is hot right now

user2: i hope netflix are taking notes cause this tea is steaming hot

maxverstappen1: thank you baby, helps when i have the prettiest cheerleader in the world

yourusername: i am the sexiest sargent in all of the orange army

maxverstappen1: too right you are

user3: i miss when y/n was the head of the tifosi the red monochromatic fits ate so hard

user4: i need charles to pull his head out of his ass and apologise so we can reclaim her before monza

user5: do not even bring up the fact we may not have custody of her for monza

danielricciardo: leave some for the rest of us maxy

yourusername: no actually i think it’s illegal for max not to win sorry

danielricciardo: will that change if charlie apologises?

yourusername: considering that hasn’t happened and doesn’t look to be happening any time soon - no.

user6: CHARLES PLEASE DO SOMETHING

user7: he doesn’t have to do anything, she’s just bitter cause she’s always been the bridesmaid and never the bride. we ALL know she’s always loved charles and she can’t handle that she’s not the centre of his attention it’s kinda pathetic

maxverstappen1: what made you think you know any of us enough to comment something like this? what told you that you even had a right to talk about y/n like that? she’s everything you could ever wish to be and more and she will never ever deserve the things you people are saying about her. charles would be lucky to have y/n in his life platonically or romantically but it’s his loss

user8: boyf of the year right here

user9: charles take note ^^^ this is how you’re meant to defend your best friend

landonorris: i am once again asking for photo credits i’m not gonna be your personal photographer for free

maxverstappen1: i literally paid for your dinner

yourusername: you’re literally a millionaire

landonorris: i don’t care a man still likes to be wined and dined

yourusername: just to make it clear we are not looking for a third

user10: i promise i can change your mind give me a chance

f1tea

liked by user11, user12 and 2,349 others

f1tea: charles leclerc caught liking this tweet about the situation between him and y/n. seems like he won’t back down on this. what do you think?

view all comments

user13: i need this mans head on a spike i’m so serious

user14: i want to play pinball with the single marble in his head

user15: i think ferrari have genuinely caused real head rot in him cause no way he thinks this is a serve

user16: let's be real charles' biggest rivals are ferrari and himself

user17: not this man at his BIG AGE is liking shady tweets about his best friend

user18: i think it's safe to say they're not best friends any more

user19: also "biggest rival" my ass max and charles are fucking friends now so this whole narrative is complete horse shit

user20: i'm so bored of charles playing the victim bro YOU ARE THE INSTIGATOR YOU ARE THE PROBLEM

user21: the way charles is liking shit like this but max is writing whole ass essays in the comments defending her

user22: and that''s why i'll always back that she ended up with the right man

user23: max is so far in the lead in the championship i need him to take charles out for the narrative

user24: are we in high school? like seriously this is so fucking petty i cannot wait for media day this weekend

user25: he's either gonna be the funniest man in the world or he's gonna bite someones fucking head off

user26: and i'll back it either way

user27: i know y/n is about to have her revenge dress moment in the paddock someone get kym illman ready STAT.

f1wagsupdates

liked by lilymunhe, carmenmundt and 4,530 others

tagged: yourusername

f1wagsupdates: REVENGE DRESS MOMENT !!! y/n y/ln enters the paddock in monza in this stunning black dress, showing the world what a catch she is, oh and that is max holding the umbrella for her, what a gentleman.

view all comments

user28: mother came to slay i cannot even

user29: this right after max came for charles in the press conference is PERFECTION + NO RED IN MONZA !!

user30: i see lily and carmen in the likes in knew they'd be on the right side

user31: girl i don't think anyone is on charles' side

user32: yall see the stink eye from the red bull garage when charles walked past they have y/n's back LOL

user33: the red bull garage been ride or dies for max so it defo makes sense that they would extend that to y/n

user34: christian was defo waiting for a question about it in the press conference

user35: someone on twitter got a clip of him putting his arm around fred going out of the paddock and telling him to get his driver under control

user36: yall are we on the kardashians what the fuck is going on

user37: people may hate christian but he defends his driver so much that he's inserting himself in the relationship drama

user38: i don't even follow f1 but whoever this is this serving oh my

user39: this is so exhausting like i need charles to just apologise so we can get cute y/n x max x charles content

user40: torturing myself thinking about how cute that dynamic could be

f1

liked by yourusername, maxverstappen1 and 1,203,457 others

f1: max verstappen clinches his tenth win of the season at monza, joined by sergio perez and oscar piastri. home heroes charles leclerc and carlos sainz came together at turn one, awful showing for ferrari in monza

view all comments

user41: this narrative is so so poetic

user42: i feel bad for the tifosi at this point y'all get your hopes up every season

user43: charles you aimed the wrong way if you wanted to take max out

user44: the way max kissed y/n after winning god they're so cute

user45: also the way christian got everyone to move so y/n could get to the front to see max

user46: even marko looked happy about it what is going on?

user47: y'all we knew it was gonna be bad for ferrari y/n wasn't wearing red, call me superstitious but every time she's worn red charles has either won or been on the podium

user48: well that's just what he gets for not appreciating her

user49: as fernando would say KARMA

user50: someone check charles' blood pressure please

maxverstappen1

liked by christianhorner, yourusername and 1,304,662 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: winning on and off the track, some of you can't relate.

view all comments

user51: parents omg

danielricciardo: fighting words maxy, not pulling your punches

maxverstappen1: i do my fighting on the track, not my fault people can't get past turn one to give me a real battle

danielricciardo: i need to be inside your brain

maxverstappen1: no there's images of y/n in my brain that no other man will ever see

danielricciardo: you crack me up maxy

yourusername: woah who's that fine ass piece of woman

maxverstappen1: she's taken sorry

yourusername: that's a shame, i hope that man is taking care of her

maxverstappen1: i don't believe she's got any complaints

yourusername: wow you sound like a gentleman, she's a lucky woman

maxverstappen1: believe me i am the lucky one.

yourusername: awwww maxy you're literally the sweetest person in the world

user52: if i was charles and i saw this after that race you'd have to restrain me i'm so serious

user53: i'm happy for y/n and max but i need them to stop being happy in my face

alexalbon: ur welcome for that first picture btw

yourusername: lily taught you well

alexalbon: so no thanks?

yourusername: i joke thank you very much sir albon

user54: so like all of the twitch quartet are on y/n's side? awkward.

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, georgerussell63, 706,835 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: charles and i have been best friends since i knew what the word meant and it really hurts that is has gotten to this point. when charles got his first girlfriend i chalked it up to the excitement of the experience, but when he routinely got in and out of relationships and falling back on our friendship once scorned, i started to question what he really felt about our friendship. i overlooked it every time even when it made me doubt my worth and hoped our friendship meant more. however, the cycle continued and after being left stranded at a beach in a country i do not know i decided it was the end. i have reached out to you so, so many times and want nothing more than our friendship to work and so we can be life-long friends that we can tell our kids about. but i guess it's not worth that much to you and that's something i'll have to reconcile with. the only positive coming from this the fact that it pushed me to the love of my life, so thank you for that.

comments are turned off.

charles_leclerc

liked by joristrouche, pierregasly and 1,305,783 others

charles_leclerc: i've already got my trophy, sorry not sorry.

view all comments

user56: WHAT THE FUCK

user57: my brain is actually scrambled

user58: charles' must be as well cause no way he thought this was a good idea

landonorris: so this is a low blow

charles_leclerc: since when were you the reference point for morals

landonorris: damn dude, you're in the wrong but go off i guess

user59: why do i actually want to cry for y/n right now? she did this whole ass heartfelt post with no comments so people wouldn't be able to speculate and he replies with a pic of his gf's ASS

danielricciardo: not cool dude

charles_leclerc: i see you all took her side and our friendships mean fuck all

danielricciardo: kinda ironic you bring up respecting friendships

charles_leclerc: spare me the lecture

maxverstappen1: you're a child. but this is the closure she needs. cheers to being an asshole.

charles_leclerc: so you managed to get some of my sloppy seconds, you're welcome

maxverstappen1: she's not sloppy seconds and i can't believe you'd refer to her as that. but if you wanna talk sloppy seconds you can hold the 100 point gap between us in the championship. and y/n will never say this so i'll say it for her GO FUCK YOURSELF

user60: SHOTS FIRED

user61: men are so confusing

yourusername added to their story

[caption: taking some time for myself. thank you for your kind words and know i have an amazing support system around me now]

f1wagsupdates

liked by user65, user66 and 5,430 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

f1wagsupdates: charles leclerc spotted outside y/n y/ln's office with flowers this afternoon. idk at this point, any time i report on this man i lose more brain cells.

view all comments

user67: lol even wag page admins are done

f1wagsupdates: he gives me a lot of content but damn he needs to sort his head out

user68: lol this is gonna be an all time apology tour i can't wait

user69: i honestly don't want y/n to forgive him he doesn't deserve it.

user70: yeah max has proven ride or die for y/n so i know who she should stick with

user71: i need him to donate his brain to science cause in what world is a measly bouquet of flowers gonna cover all of this shit ?

user72: legit he's systematically ditched his best friend, let randomers on the internet drage her name through the mud and then liked it and then flaunted the fact that he didn't care about their friendship for everyone to see

maxverstappen1: lol nice try

user73: my petty king i love him so much

user74: i know y/n is taking a break from social media but i hope she knows how much love she's getting

user75: for real we're all on her side i hope she slammed that door in charles' face

user76: i hope that bouquet ended up in the bin

maxverstappen1 added to their story

[caption: special delivery for a special girl]

note: i know this was heavily requested so here it is!! i really like it and it's defo open for a third part if yall want charles and y/n to reconcile? thank you for reading xx

[soulofapatrick]

Snap into place - Azriel x female reader

Summary: You meet Azriel and the mate bond snaps into place

Words: 2.7K

Warnings: None really; heated make out session

Notes; debating on a smutty part two...

Y/N's POV

I land softly in the grand dining room of the House of Wind, the air thick with the scent of fresh herbs and a hint of something sweet. Rhysand’s arms release me gently, and I steady myself on my feet, my heart racing from the exhilaration of flying through the skies of Velaris. The room is filled with soft, glowing light, casting an inviting warmth over the beautifully arranged table. A high ceiling adorned with intricate carvings seems to echo with laughter and conversation.

Before I can take in my surroundings fully, a stunning figure catches my eye. A woman with long, flowing blonde hair and striking features stands nearby, wearing a form-fitting red dress that barely conceals anything in the front. It clings to her curves, exuding confidence and allure.

“Ah, my cousin,” Rhysand announces, his voice filled with warmth. “This is Morrigan—though everyone just calls her Mor.”

Before I can respond, Mor crosses the room in a heartbeat, pulling me into a fierce hug. Her laughter is bright and infectious. “Welcome! I’m so glad you’re here!” she exclaims, her voice a melodic blend of mischief and sincerity. I feel an instant warmth in her embrace, a sense of belonging I didn’t expect.

“Thank you,” I manage to say as she releases me, taking a step back with a bright smile that makes her appear even more radiant.

Feyre steps forward, her expression friendly and open. “Let me introduce you to my sisters,” she says, guiding me toward a small group nearby.

Nesta stands with her arms crossed, an aura of guardedness surrounding her. She meets my gaze with a sharp look, her dark hair cascading around her shoulders. “You’re Rhysand’s guest?” she asks, her tone skeptical.

“Yes,” I reply, trying to match her intensity with a friendly smile.

Elain, their sister, smiles softly at me. She has an ethereal quality, with gentle features that instantly make me feel at ease. “It’s lovely to meet you,” she says sweetly, her voice warm and inviting. “If you need anything, please let me know.”

I nod, feeling a flicker of appreciation for her kindness.

Cassian stands next to Nesta, his muscular frame radiating strength and energy. He grins widely, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Just don’t let her intimidate you,” he teases, motioning toward Nesta. “She’s really just a big softie at heart.”

“Hardly,” Nesta retorts, rolling her eyes but the corners of her mouth lift slightly.

As they all welcome me, I feel a tug in my chest, an inexplicable pull that draws my attention across the room. I turn my head, and my breath catches in my throat. Another Illyrian soldier stands there, much like Cassian but not. His arms are crossed over his toned chest, looking out the large windows at the stars. His dark hair catches the light, and there’s an air of quiet strength about him. He seems lost in thought, his posture relaxed yet commanding.

“Azriel,” Rhys speaks to his friend, his tone light but expectant. “Won’t you greet our guest?”

Azriel turns slowly toward me, and I find myself momentarily entranced. He is classically beautiful, though nearly unreadable, an enigma wrapped in shadows. He stands tall, his dark hair tousled and framing his face perfectly. Golden-brown skin gleams softly in the warm light, and his massive Illyrian wings are folded elegantly behind him, giving him an imposing yet graceful presence. The planes of his face are striking—high cheekbones, a strong jawline—carved by years of rigorous training. His hazel eyes, a blend of green and gold, hold a depth that makes my breath catch.

As our eyes lock, that tugging sensation in my chest intensifies, pulling me closer to him, and then—snap. It’s as if an invisible bond has snapped into place, an undeniable connection that leaves me momentarily off-balance. I stumble, my breath hitching, and I reach out instinctively for support.

Rhysand’s violet eyes widen with concern as he steps closer, his hand steadying me. “Are you alright?” he asks, his voice laced with genuine worry.

I nod quickly, but my attention is drawn back to Azriel, who steps toward me in large, graceful strides, closing the distance between us with an effortless fluidity that only heightens the charged atmosphere.

He reaches out, taking my right hand in his scarred one, the warmth of his touch igniting a thousand sensations within me. Then, with a deep bow, he bends slightly, pressing a gentle kiss to my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he says, his voice low and velvety, wrapping around me like a warm embrace.

At his touch, a wave of emotions floods through me. I can feel everything he feels—an undercurrent of fear at this unexpected connection, a deep anticipation for my response, and there, beneath it all, an undeniable want and lust that makes my cheeks heat with embarrassment. It’s as if our souls are whispering secrets to one another, threading together in an intricate dance of intimacy and longing.

I try to pull my hand back, overwhelmed by the intensity of his emotions coursing through the bond, but he holds my gaze, and I find myself rooted to the spot, caught in the depths of his hazel eyes. It’s both exhilarating and terrifying, a whirlwind of sensations that leaves me breathless and wanting more.

I glance down at Azriel’s scarred hands, tracing my thumb along the rough texture of his skin. The warmth of his touch sends a soft shudder through him, and I feel it travel down the bond between us—a wave of heat that washes over me, igniting something deep within. It’s an intimate gesture, one that feels both innocent and charged with unspoken promises.

But suddenly, I feel something else—claws prying at the edges of my mind, a persistent probing that sends a shiver down my spine. I snap my head to the side, my eyes landing on Rhys and Feyre. Rhys stands with his head tilted slightly, a focused expression on his face as he tries to break through my mental shields, searching for what I’m thinking and sensing what’s happening between Azriel and me.

“Rhys!” I snap, my voice sharper than intended. “Get out of my head!”

His bright violet eyes widen in surprise, but there’s no malice behind his glare—just concern and curiosity.

I squeeze Azriel’s hand slightly, seeking comfort in his presence as I feel the bond shift, allowing a flicker of privacy to return. With a subtle sigh, Azriel finally lets me go, his grip loosening but the warmth lingering on my skin.

With the weight of too many eyes on me, I feel exposed and overwhelmed by the sudden intensity of it all. I take a step back, my heart racing. “I need some air,” I manage to say, my voice steady despite the chaos inside me. Without waiting for a response, I move toward the balcony, seeking solace in the open air. The stars shimmer above me, bright and unyielding against the velvet backdrop of the night sky. The cool breeze nips at my skin, sending a shiver through me, and I realize with a pang that I shouldn’t have let Feyre dress me up so much; the delicate fabric feels too thin against the chill.

I take a deep breath, looking up at the stars, trying to quell the turmoil in my head. They are more beautiful than I ever imagined, each twinkling light a reminder of the vastness of the world beyond this moment. The Night Court is far more peaceful than anyone ever says it is, a soothing embrace of tranquility that wraps around me, lulling my racing heart.

But then, just as I begin to gather my thoughts, I feel the presence behind me. Scarred hands rest on the balcony railing between mine, and a solid body presses against me, immediately calming the raging thoughts and anxiety within me. It’s as if now that Azriel has been found as my mate, he can calm me with just a touch. My parents always told me stories about mates, about how their presence could soothe even the most tumultuous of storms.

Suddenly, I’m no longer cold. The heat radiating from him envelops me, grounding me in the moment. I seem to fall back against him instinctively, feeling the solid strength of his body as he envelops me in a comforting warmth. I breathe him in—the scent of dark wood, cool night air, and something uniquely him that sends my heart racing anew.

I take a deep breath, letting my eyes slide shut as the back of my head rests against his shoulder, feeling his presence wrap around me like a protective shroud. I can’t help but open my mind to him, allowing our connection to deepen. I show him every thought I’ve ever had about mates—the way my parents were so perfectly entwined, the love that seemed to glow around them like a beacon. I share my awe from moments ago, the overwhelming rush of emotions when our eyes first met.

I can feel him absorbing my thoughts, understanding the weight of them as they flit through our bond like soft whispers. And as I let go of my worries and fears, I realise that in this moment, with Azriel, everything feels right. The bond between us is no longer just a connection; it is a sanctuary.

When I finally open my eyes, I realize it’s not just Azriel’s presence wrapping around me but his massive wings have unfurled, forming a dark cocoon around us. They block out the view of the dining room and the curious gazes of the others, creating a sanctuary that offers me the privacy I’ve always craved, especially in gatherings like this one. I’ve never liked being the center of attention, and now, in this moment, I’m grateful for his instinct to shield us.

His wings are magnificent—dark and leathery, reminiscent of a bat’s, stretching wide to envelop us in shadow. The texture is smooth yet powerful, each wingbone prominent and elegant. I slowly turn to face him, our bodies close but still connected through the warmth of his wings. His arms remain on the balcony railing, and the soft look on his face takes my breath away. There’s something in his gaze, a mix of vulnerability and fierce desire, that makes my heart race.

I reach out tentatively, fingers brushing against one of his wings. At my touch, he lets out a breathy sound, a mixture of surprise and something deeper. A surge of sexual want travels straight through the bond between us, igniting every nerve ending in my body and leaving me breathless.

Azriel’s hazel eyes flutter open a moment later, the warm color gone so dark they’re almost black, filled with an intensity that makes me shiver. His voice is low and gravelly as he speaks, the words rolling off his tongue like a whispered secret. “I need to kiss you.” There’s a desperation in his tone, almost like a plea, and my hands instinctively reach up to cup his face, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my palms.

In that moment, everything else fades away, and it’s just the two of us in our private world. His hands finally move, wrapping around me with a possessive tenderness that makes my heart leap. He pulls me closer, pressing my hips into the balcony railing, creating an exhilarating friction between us. One hand weaves into my hair, the other slips to my thigh, lifting my leg and wrapping it around his waist as if to draw me even nearer.

And then, as if the world outside has disappeared, he dives down and kisses me like I’m the oxygen he needs to breathe. His lips are soft yet insistent, sending sparks of electricity through my body. The taste of him is intoxicating—warm and rich, like dark chocolate laced with a hint of something sweet. With every brush of his mouth against mine, I feel my heart race, igniting a fire within me that spreads from my chest to my fingertips, making me dizzy with desire.

I can’t seem to get enough of him. My hands instinctively roam over the contours of his back, searching for a break in his Illyrian armor, eager to find hot, bare golden skin beneath. I’m met only with cool metal and the hard lines of his physique, a growl of frustration escaping me when I can’t reach my destination. The sound draws a deep chuckle from him, vibrating through our connection and sending shivers down my spine.

As we pull apart just enough for him to speak, I’m breathless. “I have waited hundreds of years for you,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion and longing. The weight of those words settles over us, filled with the gravity of a bond forged over lifetimes.

Before I can process what he means, he surges forward again, crashing his mouth against mine with a heat and passion that sends my mind reeling. I feel every dip and curve of his body pressed against mine, the solid strength of him overwhelming me in the best way possible. I don’t care how hard the railing is digging into my back; everything Azriel is consuming me, and I want him—no, I need him—right here and right now.

A low sound of agreement rumbles in his chest, deep and resonant, making my insides flutter with excitement. But just as I lose myself in the warmth of his embrace, a sudden clearing of the throat outside our cocoon of wings startles me, and I yelp with fear, pulling back from the kiss.

“Darlings!” comes the voice, sickly sweet and teasing. Rhys’. “As hot and amusing as this is, please do whatever this is somewhere else where your mental shields won’t go down and blast unwanted thoughts my way.”

I glance over at Rhysand, who stands just outside the shadow of Azriel’s wings, a smirk playing on his lips. His violet eyes dance with mischief as he takes in the scene, clearly amused by our moment. I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment, my heart still racing from both the kiss and the unexpected interruption.

Azriel's presence remains a steady anchor behind me, the heat radiating from his body enveloping me in a comforting embrace. Despite Rhys's teasing, I can’t shake the feeling of exhilaration coursing through my veins.

Without breaking the intense gaze between us, Azriel flips Rhys the bird over his shoulder, a smirk dancing on his lips. It’s a surprisingly playful gesture from someone as serious as him, and it sends a flutter of laughter through me, lightening the tension in the air.

Then, with a sudden and fluid motion, he scoops me up in his arms, mirroring how Rhysand had carried me here. The world shifts around us as he cradles me against his chest, his hold firm and secure. My heart races, not from the shock of being lifted, but from the thrill of what’s to come.

He strides out of the House of Wind, his powerful legs propelling us into the night, the moonlight casting a silvery glow on his dark wings. I let my head rest against his shoulder, inhaling the familiar scent of him—woodsmoke and night air, a mixture that calms me even as my pulse quickens. Anticipation and want settle deep in my bones, intertwining with the warmth radiating from him, making it hard to think straight.

What does my mate have planned for us once he gets me to his bed? The mere thought sends butterflies swirling in my stomach, a mix of excitement and nerves. I close my eyes, surrendering to the feeling of safety in his arms, relishing the electric connection that pulses between us.

With each step flap of his wings he takes, I feel the promise of the night stretching out before us, a canvas of endless possibilities. All I can think about is how I’ve finally found him—my mate—and everything is about to change.

ACOTAR Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 12th Oct 2024

[hoe4sports]

How this ends p4

Alexia Putellas x Fridolina Rolfo x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

A note from the author: Yehaw, this took an unexpected turn. In the phone calls, Alexia’s dialogue is blue. It’s a bit long, but very divided into different scenarios on the trip to Sweden. It’s a different one, but it’s still about alexia. Use your imagination on the social media post.

The next part will be the last part.

This is based on Lewis Capaldi’s “how this ends”.

Warning: None, a curveball perhaps. A healthy dose of angst.

Summary: You try to go on vacation with Frido, but Alexia won’t leave you alone.

-

"Okay, fine, but what about this!"

You strike a pose showing off your outfit which made Frido laugh. Her eyes were as bright as a christmas tree, and you couldn’t help but think about how Alexia never bothered to watch you show off your lastest purchases. The attention was something you had craved for years. But as the good woman you were, you waited for your turn to have time with Alexia. Fridolina on the other hand, she loved spendning time with you. Ever since you met Fridolina went she came to Barcelona years ago, she had been your bestfriend. Your go-to. The one you confided in. The pair of you had over the course of your and Alexia's breakup developed your own everyday routine.

She would wake up at 5.30 to get ready for work, before making a breakfast for you both to enjoy together prior to you driving her to the stadium. During the drive, you would talk about a good thing that happened yesterday before singing along to Taylor Swift. The duo did the same thing after work: you would pick her up from work, she would hop into the shower and you would make dinner for the pair of you.

You couldnt help, but admit that it felt good to have someone appericiate you the way Frido did. It had been ages since Alexia had made you feel anything but bad about using her previous time or wasting her seconds. Frido was kind, attentive and what could be best described as warm. She made time for you, and if she had plans; she would always ask if you wanted to join.

“Sorry, did I forget to tell you that we are going to Sweden, not Antarctica?” Frido teased you which caused to you cross your arms over your chest. Your sent Frido a sassy look.

“Atleast I would look cute meeting all the polar bears!” You fired at her while pouting. The comment made her giggle which brought a redness to her cheeks and a sparkle to her eyes. The kind of glow that you only see in movies. It made her tan skin compliment her eyes, and she was definitely a sight for sore eyes. For your sore eyes.

Time had been moving fast, and you were to go travelling with Frido to spend time with her family in Sweden in only one day. The thought of spending time with her parents and siblings made you a bit nervous, but you tried to not stress over it since this was supposed to be a fun get away. Frido had even introduced you to her parents over FaceTime to make you feel better.

“Here, try this on instead. It’s something I bought earlier, but it’s too tight-it hurts my biceps”

“Are you implying that I don’t have big muscles, big strong athletic football beats?”

“Uh,wait, no, I-“

“Relax babe, I’m kidding! I’ll try it”

You take the sundress and flip it off your body, before grabbing Frido’s hot pink linnen dress and slipping it over your head. You reached down to pull the dress below your bum. Your eyes moved to see the reflection of the dress in the mirror behind Frido. Her eyes were glued to your reflection, and you tried your best to pretend that you were looking at yourself. But your eyes stole a gaze whenever you could. It felt good to have someone look at you like Frido did. Your hands played around with the fabric of the dress before you settled on a fit. It perfectly complimented your breast, butt and waistline. You felt like a million dollars.

“Fridolina, I love it”

The material of the dress was light and the lace on the edges of the dress felt like a nice touch to the look. The cut complimented your shape perfectly. It made you feel as close to being Scandinavian as you possibly could. Your gaze turned around to meet Frido’s, she was smiling at you with a heartwarming smile.

“See, I knew you would look stunning in it! You look so good in everything, Skatt ”

The compliment from Frido made you blush to an extent that you didn��t even want to admit. And the nickname? Oh gosh, don’t even start about the nickname. She stood up next to you before reaching for your hand, and sending you around in a twirl. The moment felt illegal, but magical.

“Thanks babe, I honestly love it. It makes me feel like I was born to be Scandinavian” you giggled.

Frido looked see into your eyes as she winked before tucking your hair behind your right ear.

“Becoming Scandinavian, huh? That can be arranged”

Your jaw dropped dramatically before looking at Frido who just smirked back at you. You couldn’t help, but start to question your and Frido’s friendship. You rolled your eyes at her before playfully slapping her shoulder. Then you flipped the dress of your head, and placed it in the “yes” pile.

The evening went by quickly with Frido teaching you all about her family while laying together in Frido’s bed eating your favourite crisps. She told you about her weird cousin, Emil, who would essentially play tricks on everyone that came along. Her niece, Dina, who was just the most adorable little toddler. And her grandmother, who gave the best hugs, but made the worst coffee. Watching her talk about home, was a real eye opener to you. You could tell that she really loved home; both the place and the people.

-

“Passport?”

“Yes”

“Wallet?”

“Yup”

“Phone?”

“Uh-huh”

“My cool and obviously super special Sweden jersey for my favourite person to wear?

“Don’t get too high on yourself, Rolfo”

A part of you felt confused. Your heart hurt terribly at times, even so bad that sometimes; you thought you were about to have a heart attack. Your heart crumbling up into pieces of glass laying in a pile at the ground. It was all that was left of you and Alexia.

The jersey Frido had given you to wear for her match was her special jersey. It was one of her Jesery’s from the World Cup with the opponents flag sown into it. The opponent was Australia, and it was the match that gave her her first worlds bronze medal.

Normally, you would’ve worn Alexia’s Spain jersey during international break. She never gave you her special jersey anymore. At one game, you even used Mali’s jersey to prove a point. When Mapi confronted Alexia about it, she had just shrugged. She didn’t know that she was about to experience the biggest loss of her life.

You held the jersey up from your backpack and waved it at Frido. Somehow, she had convinced you to place it in your carry on just incase they would lose your suitcase. Then you still had something to wear for her big match, and you happily obliged.

“Good, special jersey for my special girl.”

-

The excitement and the buzz of the airport were bringing forwards feelings you had deprived yourself of feeling. The truth was that you loved to travel. You would be searching up an adventure whenever you had an availability in your packed calendar. Something deep in your soul craved to experience the world and its wonders. Cultures had always been fascinating to you, and you loved to share the wonders you stumbled upon with your followers.

One that was not as impressed with your wish to travel lately, was Alexia. She had seen the countless photos of you and Frido hanging out. Pictures of the pair of you doing anything from making pasta to going to the beach. And for Alexia? It felt like the world was ending. She had tried to reach out. But you refused. She tried talking to Frido, who also refused. It sparked an anger, almost a jealousy in her. How could her teammate just swoop her ex-girlfriend off her feet?

As you grabbed your phone from the tray at the security check, you noticed a missed call. Your attention was quickly changed when Frido was ready to head for the kiosk to get herself a book and a bottle of Pepsi. You agreed to sit outside to watch over her stuff, but secretly; you were planning on returning the call. Your hands trembled as you picked up your phone, and pressed call on the contact that had already tried to reaching you. Your throat felt dry, and your skin felt itchy. You could feel yourself getting hotter by the second, which ended up with you sitting in your lululemon tank while feeling anxious. “God”, you thought to yourself. “Why am I so nervous? It’s just the same good ol-“

“H-Hola, uh, hi, please don’t hang up on me”

“Alexia, what do you want?”

“Uh, lo siento, how..How are you?”

“How am I? Really? How am I??”

“No, no.. Vale, I’m sorry, lo siento. Can we talk?”

“…About what?”

“Us”

“There is no us anymore, Alexia. I’m sorry.”

“But, I just, please.Hear me out?”

"Ai, give me damn a good reason»

«Because you were my first love, my only love”

You sighted loudly. She pulled the first love bullshit.

“…Vale, im busy right now. Estoy con Frido en el aeropuerto, et-“

“Que? Con Frido? Fridolina?”

You rolled your eyes. You were allowed to do anything you wanted.

“Si! We are going to Sweden to see her family”

“Que? Para ver a la familia de FRIDOLINA??”

“…Si?”

“No, no mi amor! No, lo sien-“

“I’m not your amor anymore, buttercup.”

“Por favor, escúch-“

You looked up, and your eyes immediately caught Frido moving towards you with her bright smile. Frido who took care of you. Who brought you with her to Sweden in a heartbeat. Who loved you for you. It felt like your throat was drying up. Like it was thick with air.

“-I’m sorry, Alexia. I have to go. I’ll call you after the trip. Don’t expect too much . Goodbye.”

Your hand instinctively turned off your phone not wanting to hear more from your ex-girlfriend. Your ex who didn’t want to travel with you. Who didn’t get around to purpose to you in the span of 13 years. Who promised you another cat when you had to wait for kids. Who never kept her promise.

Frido came walking towards you with a bag in her hands. Her face was lit up and she was looking like her usual happy self. She could be best described as a golden retriever whenever she was off the field. You loved her for that. When she was on field, she was hard, bad, tough and intense. But at home, she was soft and kind and gentle and just.. perfect?

“Girly, wanna see what I got?”

You nodded before sliding over to make space for your bestfriend.

“I got you a Pepsi, a magazine about exotic places to travel, a book about loving yourself, a box of Pringles and a bag of gummy bears. I hope you like them, if not then I’ll always switch with you”

Your eyes teared up from the thoughtfullness. It felt good to be cared for, Frido’s natural warmth was healing for your heart. It felt like she was slowly collecting all the pieces of your heart to glue them back together.

"Thank you, Fridolina. Really, for everything"

You tried to choke a sob, but it ended up sounding more like an owl. It sent you both into a giggle before Frido wrapped her toned arms around you. She was slightly taller than you which made you feel safe in her towering presens. She pressed a kiss to the top of your locks.

"Anything for you, sötnos"

-

After travelling for hours between Spain and Sweden, you had finally reached Frido’s hometown where you had plans for the next few days. Frido’s parents had come to the airport to pick you both up, and you could feel some nerves creeping up on you after moving towards the luggage claim.

Frido spotted her parents immediately who was both standing there with flowers and a Swedish flag.

“Hej, Fridaen min!” Her mom cheered while her dad waved the flag towards you. It made you smile sincerely. Her mom wrapped her arms around her daughter. The similarities were striking. You could definitely tell where Frido had her looks from. Her mom then looked at you before pulling you into a bear hug.

“And there is the girl that Frido has been talking about! Välkommen, Y/N.”

-

Safe and sound in her childhood bedroom, you walked around and admired all the posters that teenage Frido had put up. A few of them were of big footballers while others were popstars. One picture, showed Frido as a young girl with another young girl. A blonde. Both wearing a Swedish jersey that was just a little bit too big with shiny gold medals around their necks . The girl, you recognised as Magda Eriksson.

“Wow, Magda Eriksson right?”

“Starstrucked?”

“Well, yes! She’s a-mazing!”

“Then you are gonna die when I tell you that I have personally volunteered you as her babysitter for the games”

“Babysitting? Do you want me to walk around and make sure she doesn’t trip over herself?”

“Girl, are you jet lagged out of your mind? Her kid!”

You maked an o shape with you mouth slightly embarrassed that you didn’t know that she has a kid, but also somewhat excited that you would get to babysit. You loved all types of kids, and it had been your dream to become a mom since you were just a little girl.

-

Later that week, you found yourself sat in the family and friend's section with Frido's mom and dad, You also had baby Eriksson sitting on your lap chewing away on her fingers because Pernille was also on national duty. Their little girl was only shy of a year old, but already rocking the sweden shirt. She was the sweetest little girl, and she adored you right back.

"Look, Look, Elsa, Its your mamma!" you cheered at the toddler as you pointed towards Magda. Magda waved at Elsa which made Elsa kick her feet in excitement. "Did you see her? I bet you did, you are such a lucky little girl!" You cooed at the happy toddler. You couldn’t help but feel odd. You had imagined having your own baby by now, maybe even two. One baby and one toddler to keep you on your feet. To point out their mami on the field to. But instead, you were stuck with being a babysitter.

-

After the game was over, Sweden had won 3-2 to Ireland. Magda and Frido came over to you, and you immidiatly moved down towards the fence. Magda reached her hands towards you, and you expected her to grab the baby: but instead, she forced you and the baby over.

"Look at you, Y/N! You look like you have never done anything but been a mother, absolute natural!"

Frido cheered at you which made you blush. Little Elsa was a joy to be around. This was one of the things you had imagined would be your life by now. Bringing you and Alexia’s daughter to matches in her little Barcelona jersey with “Mami” on the back. Taking her down to the field to kick the ball around and say hello to the girls. Alexia giving you and her little girl a cuddle while the media took cute pictures for you to repost and get frames. You and Alexia with a little family was all you had ever dreamed of.

“Do you mind watching her? I’m just gonna go take pictures and sign a few jerseys”

You nodded immediately. The toddler had just started walking, and she was becoming increasingly wormy. You giggled at the toddler before walking over to get a ball. You sat the toddler down and passed the ball towards her. She kicked it back a few times before falling on her butt. You ushered towards her as you made a surprised face.

“Uh-oh! Did you jump on your butt? What a cool trick!”

It made Elsa giggle, and you scooped her up in your arms before spinning with her a couple of times. The girl was giggling like only a toddler can, her smile wide with happiness.

“More, More!” She yelled when you stopped.

You immediately shifted your grip on her and threw her up in the air before catching her. It reminded you of when you father would do the same with you; you loved it and so did Elsa.

“Y/N, thank you for watching her! Alright, Elsa. Say «byebye” to y/n” Magda gratefully said before taking Elsa into her arms.

“Really, Y/N, thank you so much. She loves you already, please come to our others games too. Elsa would love it, and I’m sure someone else does too”

She looked towards Frido who was talking to a fan. You blushed before saying your goodbyes with Elsa and Magda.

Later that night, you got a notification on your phone. It was from instagram. Frido had tagged you in a post, and you immediately clicked the notification.

-

Fridolinarolfo

Liked by MagdalenaEriksson16, pharder10 and 84 962 others.

Fridolinarolfo Sötnos

MadalenaErikkson16: Newest Swedish wag?

User277 Wait, is this a hard launch??

User252 Isnt this @AlexiaPutellas girlfriend??

User2737 I would’ve never guessed?? Im here for it!!

You closed your eyes. Partly in confusion and partly in happiness. You loved the picture. A picture she snapped on field when you were playing with Elsa. That’s was when your phone buzzed again. But this time, it was Alexia. It’s was a message from the woman you once called “mi vida” and “mi sol”. You open the message up even though you probably shouldn’t. With trembling hands, you open the message.

Mi vida

Por favor, te amo. Por favor no digas que frido y tú están saliendo. Lo siento muchísimo. Quiero hacer las cosas bien, darte lo que te mereces. Lo que debería haber hecho todo el tiempo. Sólo dame una oportunidad más.

It made your head spin. You felt physically ill. In a few days, you would be heading with Frido to Ireland, to watch her play. All before going back home to Barcelona. Back to your ex-girlfriend’s country. Where you have to deal with this whole situation. Clean up Alexia’s messes. You think that probably shouldn’t have gone to Sweden, but then again: Alexia missed her turn. And you and Fridolina are just bestfriends, right?

[artdcnaldson]

ARARARRARARARRARA

HIS RACKET

stop. ✋. i am unable to control and contain myself. i need mean mean mean art to fuck pats sister with his racket after losing a match because she was distracting him. she was constantly crossing and uncrossing her legs, short short skirt, flashing him her pretty panties. need him to taunt her and tell her how his racket barely fits in her tiny little virgin pussy :(((( but stuff her full of it anyway :((((( he really is doing anything to keep himself from putting his cock in her :(((( i need him i feel sick and horny. it's now his favorite racket and his lucky charm i'm dying

-🐞

RAHHHHHHHHH

Like god. Just thinking of you showing up to one of his matches in a little denim miniskirt and one of his Stanford tennis shirts you stole <3 you look so sweet, you cheer the loudest every time he manages to get a point.

He usually wouldn’t be able to see you very well from down on the court, but, god, you’re front row and he can see the flash of white panties beneath your skirt, the bounce of your tits when you excitedly cheer. And maybe you were earnestly cheering for him, you didn’t even realize what you were doing, but that brainless look you give him when he confronts you after the match just frustrates him even more.

“I’m sorry you lost, Art,” you say as you follow him inside his dorm like a lost puppy. The fact that he didn’t stop you was exciting, like maybe he as going to break finally, that he saw how much you cared. “But you looked so great out there. You should’ve won. I think the line judges totally fucked you ov—“

He has you pinned against the door and you go quiet. “I would’ve won,” he says firmly. “If you hadn’t been flashing your panties like a fucking groupie.”

Your brows furrow. “Oh… I didn’t mean to.” Which was a lie. Of course it fucking was.

He rolls his eyes. “Yes you fucking did. You’d do anything if it meant you’d have something filling your pussy.”

Something flashes in your eyes. Excitement? Shock?

His hand moves between your thighs, feeling the damp spot on your panties. “How long have you been wet?”

A shaky breath escapes you as his fingers press against the seam of your pussy, avoiding your clit with each pass. “Art—“ you whine, embarrassment dripping from your tone.

Why should you be embarrassed, though? You were the one slutting yourself out for his attention, weren’t you? Flashing your panties, throwing yourself at him at any chance. He’d done much worse to you, touched you in ways that were unforgivable. At least, they would be to Patrick.

It’s infuriating, that you have the audacity to act like some demure fucking virgin. Like you haven’t fucked yourself on his bed, haven’t gotten off to him degrading you and cumming down your throat.

But you don’t even have to answer. He knows that you’ve been soaked since the second you sat down in the stands, that your little body has been absolutely thrumming with need and want. That you’d dressed that way with the intentions of getting him so riled up he’d need to take it out on you.

And he would. He’d give you something to stuff you full, keep you satisfied.

“Lay down,” he says, and you obey so easily. You settle on top of his bed, chest heaving with anticipation. He slips your panties down your legs, he can practically smell your need. He wants to just bury his face between your thighs, lick at your core until your taste is all he knows. Make you cum again and again and again until your clit feels numb and you beg for him to stop. “You want me to fill you up, hm?”

You nod, irises practically swallowed by your lust-blown pupils. “Mhmm. Please, Art.”

A smile spreads across his lips. “Yeah? And you’ll take anything I give you, won’t you?”

You nod, almost frantic. “Yes, anything.”

He wants to save the image of your expression in his memory forever. Your wide eyes, the way your teeth dig into your bottom lip. As he grabs a racket from his bag. It’s new, the handle freshly wrapped. You let out a soft noise, involuntary as you look at it. “Art—“

He tosses the racket a few times in his hand. “I thought you said anything?”

You make a face. “I don’t think it’ll fit. I’m a v—“

“A virgin,” he finishes for you, dripping condescension. “Sure, but I know your fingers aren’t cutting it when you fuck yourself. What do you use, huh? Did you and your little friends buy pink sparkly dildos at the mall?”

Your face burns and you look away. It’s too specific of a description, and you know he knows. That he’d snooped one of the times that he had to carry you back to your dorm and found your stash of toys and the fucking spank bank under your bed. Which was mortifying in and of itself— you had fucking clip outs of him from the campus newspaper and posters of the Men’s tennis team in there. You hated that he knew just how obsessed you were with him.

“It’ll fit,” he says. “I’ll even warm you up first. I’ll give you my fingers. I’m not that mean.”

Your tongue darts out, wets those pretty lips of yours. And you nod.

His finger slides in so easily that he almost moans. You’re so warm, so tight around him, slick and obscenely wet. One finger and you’re reduced to mewls and whines. Little pants of yes, so good, thank you, art art art.

Your body accommodates him so easy, opening up like a flower for him. A second finger plunges inside your cunt and your juices drip down his fingers, down your ass. You’re wetter than anyone he’s been with before. It’s not just that you’re a virgin— he’d fucked virgins before— it’s that you’re so fucking obsessed with him.

“You really are tight,” his voice comes out a little shaky, affected. How could it not when he has three fingers knuckle deep in your sweet, virgin pussy? When your walls clench and flutter around the intrusion, when you get wetter and wetter so his fingers squelch with each thrust in? “I don’t know if it’ll fit. But we’re gonna try, aren’t we?”

Yes, Yes, Yes. The response falls from your lips like prayer, like worship.

He waits until you’re all pliant and relaxed beneath him, moaning prettily. When your pussy feels supple and opens like it needs to take more. He grabs the racket and he almost backs out, almost stops himself, but you look at him with hunger and want. You need to impress him so badly— to accept whatever he gives him.

There’s a first time for everything. He tries his best to slick up the handle with lube, not that you’re lacking in that department. He watches your cunt pulse, your hole clenching as he practically jacks off the tennis racket. Oh, you want it so bad.

“Hold your legs up,” he instructs. You’re chewing on your lip as you do, tucking your hands beneath your knees, leaving your cunt exposed and glistening in the shitty light of his dorm room. “Relax. You wanted it, so lay there and take it.”

He presses the handle against your cunt, listens to the slightest intake of breath as it breaches your tight entrance, as your body stretches to accommodate it. It’s a stretch, god, it’s obscene. Your tiny little pussy wrapped around the handle like it’s a dick.

“Ah, f-fuck—“ You’re whimpering, crying for it, little feet kicking as he presses it in deeper. “Big— it’s big.”

He’s harder than he’s ever been in his life, and you’ve pushed that limit many times before. He’s fantasized about it before, the idea of it. Of some faceless, nameless woman lying all spread out beneath him, crying out with pornstar moans while he fucks her with the handle of his racket after a game.

He blamed Patrick for that one. For planting that seed.

But now he has you. Lying beneath him with your face screwed up in pleasure, your mouth ajar as he pushes it deeper, deeper, deeper. “Tell me how it feels,” he goads once it’s fully sheathed inside of you.

It takes a moment for the question to register— he sees it in the lazy blink in your eyes, how they’re glassy when they meet his.

“Mmm… so— so full,” you moan. Your expression is akin to disappointment as he slowly withdraws the racket, only to push it back in. Your eyes roll back, toes curl and flex.

“You don’t feel gross? No shame at all?” He asks.

You should. You definitely should, but right then you can’t find it in yourself to. You shake your head. “I just— nghh— just want whatever you give me.”

God. You shouldn’t tell him that, shouldn’t willingly hand over that much power. His head swims with it.

“No fucking self respect” he mutters. “Jesus Christ. Such a fucking slut.”

But that just encourages you. “Just your slut, Art, all yours.”

God, you’re so fucking wet, dripping down to your asshole, down onto the sheets. He figures he could make you squirt, that you’d let him play with your pussy until you gushed like a fountain. He could probably do anything he wanted and you’d take it with a smile.

“You need t’ cum?”

You nod quickly, moaning. “Fuck— yeah, so bad, Art, so fucking bad.” Your cunt squeezes around the handle of the racket, like your body is trying to suck it deeper. “Touch me— touch me, I need—“

He knows what you need. And he shouldn’t. But what the fuck is he holding back for at this point? He moves his free hand to your clit, rubs in firm circles as he shallowly thrusts the racket.

The cries that escape you are like music to him, so delicious, so fucking debauched. Your feet kick pathetically, your back arches off the bed. It’s almost adorable.

“You have ten seconds before I stop,” he warns. You cry weakly, grind your hips up against the handle as he fucks you with it. He counts aloud, watches the way your breath heaves as you get closer. He can practically feel your racing heartbeat in your clit.

“C-cumming, cumming—“ you whine. He’s at two— your body is right on the edge, you want it so bad.

“Come on, give it to me,” his voice is low, rough with need. He meets your gaze, and he grins at how wrecked you are, how pathetic he can make you.

You cum just like that, leave a ring of cream at the top of the handle as he fucks you through it. He reduces you into weak moans, makes you go limp beneath him.

When he eases the handle out, he marvels at the sight of your pussy, smeared with arousal, swollen and open for him. He rubs his thumb against your clit and he watches your hole twitch for him, still wanting anything you can give.

“Jesus Christ,” he mutters. He should have taken a picture.

[ragingbookdragon]

I Wanna Talk About Me

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 3.1K Warnings: Explicit Language

Author's Note: This is a direct continuation of this fic here! Enjoy!

**********************************************************************

She stood outside the gate, smoothing the fabric of the slim fitting, black dress, waiting for Jake to show up. The air was cool, and she ignored the continual whistling from the security officers stationed just a few feet behind her.

A sleek, black Dodge pulled up and parked before her, then Jake stepped out and walked around the side of it, casting a glance at her before he opened the passenger door.

“Your chariot awaits, princess,” he sarcastically said, and she rolled her eyes, walking up to him.

She took a moment to take him in full view, the way the dress blues fit him perfectly. “You look…good, Jake.”

“I am good,” he replied, taking a look at her too. “I see you managed to dress appropriately for the occasion.”

“You’re a dick,” she insulted, and put her foot on the step while grabbing the handle above the door. Jake’s hand found its way to her rear as he helped her up and she stopped, deadpanning, “Hand. Off. Ass.”

He snickered but didn’t remove his hand as he practically shoved her inside and closed the door behind her, then he looked over at the security guards who immediately stood straight and saluted. “You boys just keep this little secret, yeah?”

They nodded and he walked around the front of the truck, climbing in. As they drove, she kept fiddling with the clutch in her hand.

“You nervous?” he asked. “I’m not going to bite unless you ask for it.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m just not used to dressing up like this and going out to fancy restaurants.” She looked at him. “Still taking me to the Ritz?”

“Uh no,” he answered. “The nearest Ritz is in Cali.”

“You looked it up?”

He went uncharacteristically quiet for a moment then said, “I’m taking you to Wild River Grill in Reno.”

“That’s an hour away,” she said. “We’ll be getting back here at like 0200.”

“What are you a teenager with a 9:30 curfew?” he retorted. “Relax. We’ll be fine.” She cocked a brow and looked at him from her seat but said nothing. “You do look nice though,” he said lowly. “I like the dress.”

Her cheeks warmed and she smiled. “Thank you. I had to rent it from a boutique.”

Jake snorted as he turned on to the main highway. “Yeah, that enlisted pay isn’t all that, is it?”

“Hey, I’m an LDO thank you very much,” she griped.

He looked at her skeptically. “We still do LDO programs?”

“Uh, yes? You think I was going to spend my entire career being enlisted?” she shifted in her seat. “I did the same thing my old man did.”

“Your dad was Navy?”

“Mhm, retired as an LT after 28 years.”

“Wow, career man then,” he noted with impression. “So, you were a regular military brat too, huh?” he said smugly.

“Yes,” she answered exasperatedly. “I was, Jake.”

He hummed low in his throat. “My dad was Navy. So was my grandfather.”

“I heard,” she said. “I bet you grew up with expectations.”

“I did.” He looked to the left as he switched lanes. “It was expected that I would graduate high school and immediately go into boot camp.”

She looked over at him. “Is that what you wanted?”

He shrugged. “Never had anything else going for me.”

“You? I don’t believe that.” She reached over and squeezed his bicep. “I bet you played sports. What one? Baseball? Football?”

“Lacrosse, actually,” he informed. “And I was incredible at it.”

“You know it’s okay to be humble, right? I do promise it won’t kill you if you are.”

“And I would be humble if I knew I sucked. But I don’t. So, I have no reason to be humble before you.”

“Arrogance begets failure,” she muttered. “That’s why Mav beat you in dogfighting.”

“Rude.”

“Truthful.”

“Hurtful.”

“You’ll live,” she comforted and patted his arm.

***

As they walked in, a hostess smiled at them. “Good evening. Do you have a reservation?”

“We do,” Jake said, pulling off his cap. “Under Seresin.”

The hostess clicked a few times on the screen before she nodded. “Yes sir, a table for two.” She grabbed two menus and handed them to a waiting server. “If you’ll follow, they’ll lead you to your table.”

Jake placed a hand on the small of her back and gently led her as they followed the server to a small table near the corner. Like a gentleman, he pulled out her seat and helped her sit down before he took his own seat.

“Would you like me to take your cap, sir?” the waiter asked, and he nodded, handing it over. “I’ll put this up and be right back.”

As he left, Jake looked at her. “You okay?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, looking around. “I like this place so far. Comfortable. Classy.”

“Came here with a couple friends when we graduated Top Gun,” he said. “Good food. Good drinks.”

As the waiter came back, he placed the menus down. “I’m Graham, I’ll be taking care of you both this evening. Can I start you off with any of our wines, beers, or hard liquors?”

Jake scanned the menu and answered, “I’ll take a 10 Torr Secret Cove.” He looked at her. “You?”

She made a face as she scanned the cocktails and looked at Graham. “What would you recommend for cocktails?”

“Definitely the Apple’y Ever After or the Practice What You Peace. I love both.”

“I’ll take the first then,” she smiled. “And a glass of water with lemon on the side.”

“Yes ma’am. Any appetizers to start with? I recommend the Cheese Plate or the Caprese Bruschetta. Both are really light and leave enough room for entrees.”

She looked at Jake. “You?”

“The Cheese Plate, and add the chef selected cures.”

“Yes, sir,” Graham said. “I’ll go put those in and get your drinks.”

As he left again, she looked over the menu. “Jake…”

“Yeah?” he said, already scanning over the steaks.

“These prices are pretty high.”

“Uh huh. Good food usually is.”

“You aren’t worried?”

“Why would I be?” he asked, then looked up at her. “Don’t worry about the prices, pretty girl. You just order whatever you want.”

She narrowed her eyes and said, “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do you mean?’” he replied. “Order whatever you want.”

She glanced at the menu. “So, if I wanted a filet mignon with seared scallops and blue cheese cream…I could?”

Jake sighed. “Pretty girl, this isn’t a game of gotcha. Order. Whatever. You. Want.”

“Okay…just checking.” She looked at him. “You aren’t going to say something stupid like, ‘Oh wow, you know how to eat’ if I order a steak will you?”

“You’re a grown woman. I expect you to eat food like a grown woman. Which includes eating whatever you want,” he added exasperated.

“Okay, I got it,” she laughed. “But I’ll go ahead and say, I’m not really a steak person.”

“You look like a chicken tenders and fries type of woman. No offense.” He hummed. “I actually mean that with full offence.”

“Well, lucky for you I don’t take offense,” she said. “I do love a good chicken tender.”

Jake scoffed and shook his head with a grin.

When their drinks and appetizer came, Graham smiled. “Have we decided what we want to eat?”

Jake nodded at her to go first, and she said, “I’ll have the chicken piccata. But can you hold the lemon capers in the sauce?”

“Yes ma’am, I’ll let the chefs know. And for you sir?”

“Let me get the ribeye and the seared scallops with it.”

“Of course.” He gathered the menus. “I’ll get this put in. Is there anything else you need at the moment?”

“No, we’re good, thank you,” Jake said, and Graham walked off; he took a sip of his draft.

She looked at him, really looked at him for a good moment. Jake was, objectively an extremely attractive man. Though he’d be much more attractive if his attitude wasn’t as cocky as he was. But she knew that cockiness came from skill and the simple fact that he was raised to be who he was.

“Something on my face?” he asked, and she blinked.

“No, just looking at you.”

“Look all you want, pretty girl. This is me in all my glory for you to take in,” he smirked, and she rolled her eyes, sipping her cocktail.

Setting the glass down, she said, “So, tell me a little about you, Jake.” When he met her gaze with a raised brow, she added, “And I mean the real you. Not the man we all know and ‘love.’”

He snorted. “What do you want to know?”

“What do you do in your spare time when you’re not on duty?”

Jake took another sip of his beer. “I read. And cook. Go exercise. Visit war memorials. Museums.”

“What do you read?” she asked.

“Mostly non-fiction history about war and aviation.”

“Figures,” she smiled. “Did you ever read that World War 2 biography about Louis Zamperini?”

“Unbroken?” his eyes lit up. “I did. I loved it. It was such an amazing and powerful story.” He leaned forward. “Do you read them too? World War novels, that is?”

“I do.” She enjoyed that honest smile on his face. “Did you ever read the story about the USS Indianapolis?”

“Oh man, yeah, and did you watch the movie they made with Nicolas Cage?”

“Men of Courage?” she replied. “Yes! It was so heartbreaking…and tragic.” She looked at him. “You said you visit museums? Did you ever visit the Naval Aviation Museum in Pensacola when you went for training?”

“I did,” he said. “Every time I visit, I try to go. Just to see if I learn anything new.”

“Me too!” she grinned. “I think I’ve been there like ten different times. Every time I go, I always point out to people around me the carriers my dad and I served on.”

Jake smiled at her. “I forgot you do sea duty most of the time. Which carriers have you been on so far?”

“Uh, let’s see,” she murmured, thinking for a moment. “I’ve been on the Truman and Washington so far. Even did a stint on the Roosevelt destroyer a couple of years ago.”

“Ever think about trying for shore duty?” he asked.

“Sometimes, but it always feels more natural being on the water,” she smiled at him. “Kind of like you being in the air.” She leaned close. “What’s it like, Jake? Being up there, just you in God’s ballroom?”

He sat back and thought for a moment. “The first time I ever flew, I was ten. Dad took me up in a rental on an airstrip back home. And I remember sitting in my seat just, watching the ground get smaller and smaller until cars looked like ants.”

“Were you scared?”

“Shitless,” he joked. “But…dad, he kept telling me to look up at the sky and when I did…we were in the biggest, white clouds I’d ever seen before. And I could see the rays of sun shining down over the land.” He looked so far away in his memory. “Dad showed me how to handle the stick and I remember everything else faded away as I flew us through the clouds.” Jake’s expression was one of reverence. “And it was just beautiful. Like nothing I’d ever seen in my life up until that point. There’s…really no way to describe it.” His gaze met hers. “I knew then that all I ever wanted to do with my life was get back up there no matter what it took.”

She smiled softly at him. “It sounds beautiful, the way you describe it.”

He nodded his head gently, then asked, “What about you? Why’d you want to be an AM? Was your dad one?”

“My dad was actually an AT. My brother was an AM when he served.” She took a sip of her drink. “I was eleven and my dad brought me to the hanger one day. I was hanging around his office and he had a meeting to go to, so he left me with some of his AMs and asked them to watch me for a little while.”

“Oh, nice, give the caffeine and nicotine addicted eighteen-year-olds a kid to be impressionable on.”

She laughed. “Something like that.” She took a piece of the cheese on the platter and popped it in her mouth. “They started showing me all different pieces of the F-16. How to change out fuel capacitors, how to fuel one up, how to fix this and that.” She shrugged. “I don’t know, felt right with tools in my hands. Dad kept bringing me back to the hanger when I wouldn’t stop asking him about it and he let the guys teach me how to work on it.”

“Ah, so you were a natural grease monkey then,” he grinned, and she nodded.

“I was. I also spent a lot of time tinkering with machines at home. I can fix just about anything if I look at the inside of it long enough.” She took another piece of cheese. “I have been trying to change my rate to AT though. Wanted to get a better technical point of view than mechanical.”

“You been able to?”

“I’ve been tinkering with a few ATs in my squadron. Sitting in on fixings here and there. I don’t think they’ll let me change so far in my career, but it never hurts to learn all I can.”

“I can always put in a word with Cyclone,” he offered. “He might have some sway.”

“I appreciate that, Jake,” she smiled. “But I do enjoy being a grease monkey. Not going to lie to you about it.”

He smiled back at her as their entrees arrived and they continued on in conversation, diving into family beginnings and careers.

***

“Jake…it’s 2300…when are we going back to base?” she whined as he drove up the side of Audrey Harris Park.

“Jesus, get you out of bed past nine and you get cranky, don’t you?” he snorted. “What are you, eighty? Need to go to bed old lady?”

“Some of us have duty tomorrow,” she griped, and he pulled up to the edge of the side of the road.

“Just, look,” he said and nodded out the window and she did, eyes widening at the view of lights and colorful displays out past the land.

“Oh…wow…Jake, it’s…gorgeous.”

His eyes never strayed to the lights from her face, watching the way that awe spread across hers. Something in his heart lurched when she turned and looked at him.

“Jake, it’s beautiful.”

The corner of his lips turned up. “Certainly not the night sky like I’d like to show you, but it’s…close.”

“You wanna take me up in the air?”

“One day,” he said and looked at the steering wheel and quietly added, “I owe you an apology.”

“For what?” she asked.

“The other day at Hard Deck. I…was a dick.” He met her gaze once more. “You didn’t deserve that.”

She shrugged with a smile. “Eh, it’s you. I’ve gotten used to you by now.”

“Still though,” he replied. “I should’ve been…nicer.”

“Jake,” she said, laying her hand on his thigh. “It’s okay, really, it is.”

He glanced down at her hand, then gently laid his on top of hers, rubbing his thumb over her skin. “You like me,” he said matter-of-factly.

“I do,” she answered honestly. “But it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way. I know I’m not exactly your type.”

“And what do you think my type is?” he asked.

“Well…y’know…smart, funny, drop dead gorgeous?”

“You just explained like every guy on earth’s type,” he deadpanned.

“Fine, you don’t have a thing for an AM who spends most of her time covered in hydraulic fluid then goes back to her room and listens to shitty pop music and does crossword puzzles.”

“Jesus you’re really an old lady,” he breathed. “Crossword puzzles?”

“And Sudoku.”

“Oh my God, we have got to get you a social life.” He thumbed the back of her hand. “I happen to be…very interested in this particular AM who spends most of her time covered in hydraulic fluid.”

“No shit?” she asked, and he looked up at her.

“Pretty girl, I let people see who they want to see. A cocky, rude, arrogant asshat who can smoke just about anyone. But you…” he lowered his gaze again and sighed. “You see deeper. You want to see more.” He shrugged halfheartedly. “Pretty girl, you’re the only one who tries to put up with me to see me. And…that scares me.” His jaw tightened. “I don’t get scared…and you scare me. What you could be to me. What you see.”

She listened quietly then shifted, gently putting her hand on his cheek. “Jake…” he met her gaze, and she smiled softly at him. “I see you.”

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“Yeah. Big ego and everything underneath,” she whispered. “I see you.”

He reached up and cupped her hand to his face, turning his cheek to kiss the inside of her palm, then said, “I wanna take you out again.”

“I’d like that,” she answered, pulling her hand away and smiled at him. “I’d like it a lot.”

Jake smiled back at her and put the truck in drive. “I should get us back to base.”

“That’s probably best. Mind if I play some music on the radio?”

“No pop shit.”

“Rude.”

“My truck, my rules. Play country or classic rock.”

“Country?” she cooed. “Ooo, I have the perfect song for you then.”

And Toby Keith’s “I Wanna Talk About Me,” filled the cabin and he chuckled as she sang to him.

“Are you saying I only ever want to talk about me, myself, and I?”

She grinned and replied, “That is your favorite topic.”

He nodded. “It is. I love talking about myself. I’m incredible.”

They looked at each other as the chorus came on and sang down the highway, “I wanna talk me, wanna talk about I. wanna talk about number one, oh my, me, my, What I think, what I like, what I know, what I want, what I see! I like talking about you, you, you, you usually! But occasionally, I wanna talk about me!”

Jake reached over and laid his hand on her thigh, gently caressing it with his fingers as she rested her hand atop his, smiling out the window as they drove back to base.

[borathae]

Close Shave | Jungkook x f.Reader

↳ Full Art

"You walk in on Jungkook using your razor to shave his balls and the bratty question for help on his lips. It's only fitting to help him, if only so you can give him a sexy little punishment for touching your things."

Pairing: Jungkook x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Slice of Life Smut

Warnings: sub!Jungkook who is the cutest pookie, mean Dom!Reader, he tries to make her laugh, until she accidentally gets him horny, then he tries so hard not to make her notice his boner, spoiler alert: it was her plan to make him hard, she shaves his dick and balls, handjob, edging, multiple orgasms (m. receiving), whiney!Koo, some dirty talk, overstimulation, ruined orgasms & post-orgasm torture, begging & subby boy tears, male squirting :'), soft & cuddly aftercare, he is so cozy in subspace hehe <3, they're in love <3

Wordcount: 4.5k

a/n: sometimes i give myself new kinks and i think that's beautiful :') have fun besties, i missed writing this kind of Koo 🤍

You knock on the downstairs bathroom door.

“Sweetie, are you okay in there?” 

Jungkook has music playing, but is worryingly quiet. Normally when he listens to music in the bathroom, you can always hear him singing to it. He did so at first, but became worryingly quiet all of a sudden.

“You didn’t slip and fall in there, did you?” 

Jungkook doesn’t answer you. Your worry grows. He’s got Chase Atlantic playing and he isn’t singing to them. He loves singing to Chase Atlantic. Something must have happened.

“I’m worried, I’m coming in. Last chance to stop me”, you tell him loudly and open the door. 

Jungkook reveals himself to your eyes instantly. He is sitting on the floor with his back against the sink counter. He is in his white button up and slippers, but doesn’t wear any pants, sitting with his legs spread and his head right between them. A silver bowl filled with dirty water stands in front of him. Shaving cream and hair swims in it.

“Oh? Sorry”, you gasp.

Jungkook’s head shoots up, his big eyes look you up and down.

“Since when are you here?” he exclaims, “you scared me, wah, don’t do that. I have blades against my balls.”

“Sorry, oh god.” You laugh. “You were suddenly so quiet and I was worried that you slipped and hit your head. I didn’t know that you were shaving.”

“Yeah well, trying to. The razor sucks ass”, he says, waving the pink razor around.

“Is this my razor? And my shaving cream?!” 

He pulls a sorry “I’m a little shit” face. 

“No?”

“Jungkook, I shave my armpits with that. I don’t need your ball hair on it”, you whine.

“Hey, you’re acting as if you never had my balls in your face before.”

“It’s about the principles. You doofus, you’re gonna dull the blades.”

“No, I won’t. They’ve already been dull since the beginning”, he says and demonstrates their inability to shave on his crotch.

“You’re doing it wrong. No, what- Kook, you’re doing it wrong.”

“Urgh I knew it”, he groans and stands up. The view is a little funny. White dress shirt, black slippers and crotch messy in shaving cream. He presents the razor to you, “show me.” 

“Sorry?” 

“Show me. I promise I’ll be a good boy.”

“You saying it like that makes me think you’re not gonna be a good boy.”

He smirks playfully. You study it with a fluttering pulse. It could be fun. You could use it to give him a little punishment for taking your stuff. 

“Fine”, you give in, “sit on the counter.”

“Okie dokie”, Jungkook says, jumping on the counter with a giggle, “look at us. Shaving my balls together.”

You roll your eyes, bending down to get the bowl. You put it on the counter next to him, cleaning the razor under running water. Once clean, you walk to him. 

He opens his legs for you, making grabby hands at you. You meet his eyes. They’re sparkling boyishly.

“Don’t give me that face”, you say.

“I’m not even doing anything”, he defends himself, fluttering his lashes at you.

“Yeah sure.” 

You step between his legs, chuckling when he instantly grabs you and kneads you. 

“Doofus.”

“Heh, you’re pretty”, he says, earning himself another fond roll of your eyes.

“Scoot to the edge.”

He follows. 

You bend down and place your hand on his balls to stretch the skin. The razor touches his skin.

“Careful. If you cut them off, you’re at a loss too.”

“I’m gonna be careful”, you say in a chuckle, dragging the razor through his bush. It picks up a good strip of it.

You straighten up and clean it in the bowl.

“Woah, how did you manage to get so much?” Jungkook gasps.

“Practice. You had the angle all wrong”, you say, bending down again. 

“I knew that it was user error.”

“No, you didn’t. You said the blades were dull.”

“No, I didn’t”, he says, clearly being playful. 

“Mhm sure”, you mumble, feeling oh so very fond of him.

You and he share silence, which the music fills. You can listen to Jungkook singing softly and every time you straighten up to clean the razor, he gives you a little grin. One you never retort because you kind of enjoy acting a little annoyed. He knows that it’s pretend and therefore tries to make you laugh and he’s cute when he does. One time he tapped your head to the beat of the song, another he rubbed your neck to the melody as he sang the lyrics with all his heart. Another time he called you pretty, while yet another time he tried it with a silly joke about pubes. His attempts were very good and whenever you had your face between his legs and he couldn’t see it, you let a fond smile wash over it. 

You are straightened up again, cleaning the razor in the bowl. Jungkook watches you, gazing at your face more than anywhere else. 

You bend down again, shoving his balls to the other side.

“Oh? Careful”, he chuckles, “that was quite the shove.”

“Sorry, I gotta do the other side now”, you tell him, furrowing your brows as you guide the razor through the first patch. 

Jungkook stays still, but puts his fingers on your head.

“How many fingers?” he asks.

“I’m tryna concentrate”, you tell him with concentrated brows. 

“Try. I’m making it easy”, he says, wiggling his fingers.

“Three.”

“Correct. See? I knew you could do it.”

You scoff, “doofus.”

You clean out the razor then go straight back to shaving him. Jungkook watches you.

“It’s kinda funny to see you between my legs like that and only have you shave me. Normally you’re doing something very different when you’re like this.”

You stop mid-shave, keeping the blade on his skin as you lift your eyes. 

“You lift your eyes like that too when you do.”

“You’re so annoying”, you mumble and look back at his balls to finish the shave. You smile.

“I saw that.”

“You saw nothing.”

“I’m pretty sure I did. You smiled.”

“I was gritting my teeth in concentration. Like this.” You straighten up and show it to him. “See?”

Jungkook laughs, scrunching his face for it.

“No, you weren’t. I saw you smile.”

“Whatever you saw, it didn’t happen”, you say and bend down again. But before you can, Jungkook stops you with a finger under your chin. 

“Mhm?”

He leans in, stealing a kiss. You grab his thighs instantly, kissing him back with a fluctuating pulse.

The kiss breaks with a bite to your lower lip and his lips curling into a smile.

“I love your smile”, he whispers, following it up with a giggle and peck attack to your lips.

You huff out air to cover up your chuckle, nudging his chest, “doofus.”

You bend down, unable to hide your smile. Jungkook soaks up the view with a fluttering heart. He is having so much fun right now. Spending time with you like this is new and exciting. He also likes the little game you make him play. You are so obvious when you only pretend to be annoyed and he gets so nicely competitive to make you break that he could squeal now that he finally sees your smile.

Your smile soon drops however. A look of concentration replaces it as you guide the razor over his skin smoothly. You clean it and go straight back in, putting your fingers on his dick to move it aside. 

“I think JK Junior has a preference to fall left.”

“Yeah, definitely...JK Junior? Really?”

“Yeah.”

You chuckle, “you’re annoying.”

Jungkook bites down his squeals, having a hard time with it. He loves making you laugh! 

“Should I hold him?” he offers.

“No, keep your hands to yourself.”

“Okay”, Jungkook says and runs his fingers over the nape of your neck.

“I didn’t know my neck was yourself.”

“I’m not touching JK Junior, am I?”

You scoff, following it up with a little chuckle.

“You’re annoying.”

Jungkook snickers, kicking his feet.

“Hey!”

“Oop!”

He tenses up, gawking at you with big eyes.

“No kicking. I’ll cut you on accident.”

“Sorry.”

You clean the razor, “I’m almost done, don’t worry.”

“Already?”

You glance at him. He is pouting.

“Are you sad about that?”

“Yeah.” He pouts harder. “This is so much fun.”

You hide the victorious smile. It’s all going according to plan. You knew that he wouldn’t be happy with just his balls. Now the real fun is going to begin. All of this was just a warm up, the perfect way to get Jungkook into a giddy kind of mood. And when he is in this kind of mood, it is terribly easy to turn him on. Oh, you are going to have so much fun with him. 

“Fine, I’ll do JK Junior too”, you fake your annoyance, “good god, I knew you would do that”, you add, bending down to do the last part of his balls.

“Yay thankies. I swear it’s just because you’re so much better at it than me.”

You feel ecstatic. Look at him still thinking that he is in control when you are playing him like a fucking game.

“Yeah sure”, you say and finish the shave. You straighten up, clean the razor, then leave to get the shaving cream. 

“The cream is really good. It smells so nice”, Jungkook says, “flowery and sweet. I like it.”

“Yeah and it’s only fourty bucks”, you say sarcastically.

“What?” He widens his eyes. “Fourty bucks?!”

“Yeah and you used way too much.”

“Fuck, sorry. I thought it’s like four bucks. Mine’s like three sixty.”

“No, I always get the expensive one.”

“Why? Cream is cream. Wouldn’t a normal one do the trick too?”

“Sure, but this one lasts me more than a year ‘cause I only have to use a little.” 

“Sorry, I’ll get you the next one.”

“Mhm, okay”, you say and begins spreading some on his crotch area.

“Okay, I definitely used too much. Look at how well it foams up.”

“Right? It’s really good”, you say and wipe some on his nose.

“Hey”, he gasps and laughs, wiping the foam away, “not cool.”

You give him a grin and pick up the razor. You have a plan. You will do the first few shaves normally and then go in with the attack. Jungkook doesn’t suspect a thing. He is still singing and making jokes with no idea of what will happen soon. Oh, you are going to ruin him. 

You finish three small patches. It is finally time. Your heart is racing as you go in. You pick up his cock, holding it in your hand. Act innocent at first. Make him believe you are only making it easier for you, only to drive him desperate with your warm hand little by fucking little.

Jungkook stops singing for just a second, but then continues. He feels it, but doesn’t want to pull attention to it. Oh, you could squeal. 

You clean the razor, releasing his dick. For now. You will do two more like this and then you won’t pull your hand away when you clean.

It goes well and then the fourth patch comes. You don’t pull your hand away, keeping it around his cock with just enough pressure that he feels it.

Jungkook lets out a breathy chuckle. You look at him with faux confusion in your eyes.

“Why are you laughing?” 

“Nothing, uhm, you’re pretty.”

“Doofus”, you say, smiling internally. Of course he’ll act innocent. He is still in the belief that this is innocent, that you are just shaving his dick. He won’t tell you that the warm pressure around his cock is starting to affect him. 

But you know him better. You know that his brain is currently trying to zone in on nothing but your touch, while he is actively trying not to make it do that. He doesn’t sing as much anymore because he needs to concentrate. He is so adorable. 

You won’t have to do this for long anymore and then you can move to the next step. Oh, he is going to have a very hard time with that. You have the perfect plan. 

You increase the pressure whenever you clean the razor, doing the smallest pulsing motions with your fingers. You make sure to keep them small enough that they aren’t noticeable, but that he will ask himself why it suddenly feels so much better. By the third time, you hear him exhale shakily. He hasn’t sung to the entire song by now. 

You look up, watching as Jungkook tries to make a normal expression. He had his jaw tightened and brows furrowed before that as he secretly tries to keep the blood from shooting to his cock. 

“You good?” you ask him.

“Yeah. Yeah totally”, he says, nodding his head vigorously, “you uhm…do you have to do a lot more?”

“Mhm?” you look at his crotch and act as if you needed to inspect him, moving his cock from side to side with your hand moving around his tip. 

Jungkook sucks in air, tensing his thighs. His cock hardens a little in your hand. Not enough to be visibly noticeable, but you can feel it.

“Mhm, I would say that we still have some way to go. Why? Did your butt fall asleep on the counter?”

“No”, he laughs breathily, “no, not at all.”

“Okay, just say if it does”, you say and bend down to drag the razor over his skin. You pretend to struggle with the position and to fix it by moving his cock to the side with a pulse around his tip.

Jungkook doesn’t sing at all anymore. He is actually very quiet and you know that it’s because he is trying so hard to keep his breathing silent as to not make it obvious that he needs to breathe to regulate himself. But of course you notice because he is not slick with it. Unlike his cock, which is beginning to be slick between your fingers. 

You straighten up to clean the razor, pulling your hand from his cock. Jungkook’s hips chase you, but he tense up when you look at him again. He is giving you such intense eye contact that you know for a fact that he is trying to distract you. Oh, he definitely noticed how hard his cock is. 

He can’t even think of a joke right now, simply staring at you with a nervous smile on his lips. 

You don’t retort it for show, looking at his cock again.

“Mhm”, you let out loudly, furrowing your brows. You want him thinking that you noticed his semi. 

Jungkook tenses up in panic.

“It’s not-”

“I don’t know how to get that part, mhm”, you interrupt him, “oh? Sorry, did you wanna say something?”

“Huh? No, not at all”, he says and laughs nervously.

“You’re so weird sometimes”, you mumble and pick up his cock to move it to the side. Unlike before, you don’t use your entire hand for it, instead you keep three fingers on nothing but his tip, moving them up and down as little as possible. Again, it shouldn’t be obvious, but he should suddenly ask himself why it feels so good. 

And he does. He is trying not to show it, but he must currently scream in his head. His thighs keep tensing and he is doing a worse job at masking his heavy breathing. 

You clean the razor, retreating your touch. 

“I think this part is easier to shave. You got more room”, you tell him calmly.

“Yeah, totally. I totally agree with you. Totally.”

“Are you okay? You’re talking weird”, you say and gasp, “oh god, did I cut you somewhere?” you exclaim and pick up his cock to move from it side to side with your hand pulsing around his tip, “you should have told me. Gosh baby, where is it? I can’t see anything.”

“No, it’s”, he is squeaking, arching his back and grasping your wrist to stop you, “you didn’t cut me. It’s fine. I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” you look up at him. 

He nods his head vigorously, “I’m coolio.”

“Okay, if you say so”, you say and change grip to three fingers on his tip. His cock is so hard by now that you know that this round will be enough to make him fully erect. The fact that he still hasn’t acknowledged it, acting as if he isn’t completely out of breath, is giving you the biggest butterflies ever. He is so bad at pretending and it’s so exciting to you. You won’t say anything either, you will continue to act oblivious while you drive him insane with just three fingers. 

You work meticulously to shave him while your fingers move up and down his tip secretly. Jungkook grips the edge of the counter again, tensing his stomach to prevent his back from arching. 

You clean the razor, dropping his cock again. You make sure to look at the water, but in reality you watch him from the corners of your eyes. His cock twitches and leaks. Jungkook gasps and goes to wipe it away quickly, hitting it in an attempt to make it go down, which results in a more aggressive throb because he likes it. 

“Mmh.”

You look at him. Jungkook scrambles into a relaxed position quickly, fumbling for words but he can't think of anything. 

“Everything alright?” 

“Mh-hm”, he gets out, nodding his head vigorously.

You move back to shaving him, picking up his cock between your fingers. You want to stay longer this time around, do the strokes in three tries while your fingers massage his tip secretly. You keep pressure on the spots, using the shaving cream as slip. Jungkook’s thighs are flexed, his abs engaged. You glance at his hands. His knuckles are white because he is using so much strength to grip the counter, resulting in his veins to bulge all the way from his hands to his elbows. He is so sexy. 

You make sure to slow down more, to really drag it out. He should be desperate once you’re done, he should crave your touch again and ask himself why on fucking earth he is such a needy fucking man. And oh how you drag it out, how good you time it. You pull back at the perfect time which results in Jungkook to arch his back and whisper a curse. 

You glance at his face. He is scrunching it, gritting his teeth as well. You edged him. And he isn’t even aware that you can see his agonised face because he is too busy trying to suffer in secret. Fuck, you want him like crazy. 

But you stay quiet. You look away before he opens his eyes and clean the razor with an innocent expression. You can feel his eyes on you. They are begging you as much as they are trying to figure out if you were actually that blind to his problem. You don’t grand him eye contact, moving in instantly. 

Jungkook sucks in air, tensing up again. You dare to glance up at him. As you had figured, his eyes are closed. He is biting down on his lower lip, flaring his nostrils as his nose tries to keep up with all the wheezing he is hiding from you. His eyes are closed. You can dare to increase your touches. He is too preoccupied with suffering quietly to watch them become obvious. You allow yourself his initial reaction to the increasing pleasure. He opens his mouth to moan only to remember in the last moment that he needs to be quiet and he bites down on his lip again, tilting his head back just enough to reveal his throat. He is so sexy, holy fuck. 

You look back at his crotch, concentrating on gliding the razor over his skin safely. It might not be obvious yet, but you actually want to do a good job in shaving him. He’ll come out of this experience smooth and with a scrambled brain. You are making sure of it. You finish the round the moment Jungkook’s hips dared to chase you. 

The latter lets out a small whimper, squirming on the counter because you had him so close. 

“I like this razor. I don’t know how you used it, but it’s not dull at all”, you speak calmly.

“Yeah uh, yeah I don’t know.”

“It’s probably because you used too much cream”, you say and pick up his cock, keeping the movements minimal again because his eyes are on you. You put the razor to his skin and drag it up his skin. Your fingers massage his tip, Jungkook tenses up more. More. More. 

“Oh god”, he squeaks and begins twitching as the pleasure finally gets too much. You move the razor away for safety reasons, gawking at his flushed cock shoot all over his tummy and your hand. He is writhing, thrusting his hips into your touch as he cums with his panicked eyes first looking at his cock, before meeting your darkened gaze. 

“Seriously?” you ask him, cocking your brow up.

“Sorry”, he whimpers, reaching for you with the goal of kissing you. It feels so good that the shame is minimal to him right now. 

But you aren’t happy. You need him to suffer a little more, you need him confessing how bad he needs your touch. You pull back in the best moment, ruining his high which results in Jungkook to sob in agony with his hips fucking the air.

“Please, please it hurts please. Touch me please.”

“Well, that didn’t take long”, you say, placing the razor aside, “it only took you twenty minutes to finally admit it. A new record”, you say sarcastically.

“You knew?” he gasps out, writhing.

“Duh. You think it felt that good accidentally? I was touching you from the beginning”, you say and pick up his cock to jerk it off quickly, finally using your dominant hand for it. 

Jungkook drops his head against the mirror, finally arching his back and moaning the way he had wanted to do for ages. 

“You’re so cruel.”

“It’s what you get for using my stuff”, you throw back, twisting your hand around his tortured tip. 

“Sensitive please”, he begs, kicking his feet desperately. 

“You begged for it. So take it”, you order with no ounce of pity in your voice.

“Oh god”, he presses out, arching his back repeatedly while his shaky hands grip the marble.

His cum already became a deep white from the fast friction, sticking all over your hand and his cock. Residues of the shaving cream add even more slip to the punishing handjob. You know that he won’t hold out for long with the rhythm you have going on and that it’s gonna be the kind of orgasm which makes him cry just a little. 

And how right you were. Jungkook can only take five more pumps and then the overstimulation gets too much, forcing him to orgasm with such intensity that he shoots all over his own face and mirror. The sudden hot mess on his face startles him, making him cry because it was all too much. It still is. You don’t slow down even now that he is cumming. It burns and aches so much and Jungkook has no control over his body anymore. All he can do is sob and shake uncontrollably while you force his poor cock to soothe the burn by squirting all over himself. 

There is so much of it that it runs down on each side of him, spilling all over the counter and washing away the remnants of shaving cream. He sobs and he moans, he whines and he keens while you match his noises with evil laughter and mocking coos. 

Jungkook cries so much harder. You are so mean to him and he didn’t even do anything. You are so, so mean. 

His orgasm dies down as aggressively as it began. His once pleasured writhing becomes agonised, he tries to tug your hand away, sobbing begs to warm your heart.

“Please, I’m sorry. I won’t take your stuff again. I’m sorry, please!” 

“Promise me?”

“Promise! Please I’m sorry, I promise!”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Promise!” Jungkook screams so loudly his voice bounces off the walls, “holy fuck, I’m sorry!”

“That sounded better”, you say, finally releasing his ruined cock. You tortured him so good that you made him go soft as a defence mechanism. He is so fucking lovely to play with.

Jungkook drops against the mirror instantly, wheezing for air and spilling tears as he scrunches his face. 

You rub his trembling thighs, guiding your touches up his torso slowly until you can pull him into a hug. Jungkook hides away in the crook of your neck, holding you with his arms both weak yet terribly strong as they try to clutch you for soothing. You rub his back and scratch his scalp.

“You did so well, sweetie”, you praise him, “I’m so proud of you.”

“Hmmh”, he lets out, nuzzling his face into your shoulder from left to right. 

“You were also not slick with pretending everything was okay.”

He laughs, but it soon turns into little sobs. He lifts his head, looking at you with teary eyes.

“You ruined me, oh god look at me”, he says, laughing even if tears run down his face.

“Gosh baby, I’m here now”, you say, cradling his face.

“It was so nice”, he presses out, sniffling aggressively in order not to cry again. He ends up pouting with sparkly and happy eyes.

“It really was” you say, brushing his tears away, “I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too. It, it was so nice. I felt so happy to be with you and, and making you smile and then you made me so horny. Oh god”, he falls around your neck, “I feel like a giddy boy, you have no idea.”

You giggle with him, ruffling his hair. 

“I think I’m getting an idea.”

He giggles and squeezes you, following it up with a deep sigh. 

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Kookie.” You kiss his neck. “Do you want me to do the last stripe too?”

“Huh?”

“Your dick. You lost it like one more razor stripe before the end. I’d hate to leave you unfinished.” 

“Oh god.” He giggles, kicking his feet and nodding his head vigorously. “Yeah, you can finish it.”

“Nice. I promise I won’t rile you up again”, you joke, making him laugh to the point where he has to cough because he laughed way too hard. The joke definitely wasn’t that funny, but he is giddy, in love and totally mushy in his afterglow. You could breathe and he would think that it is the funniest thing you have ever said. 

You like when he is like this and after you finished the shave and you cleaned him (and the mirror), you take him to the couch for cuddles and kisses. He is just too adorable not to.

[kissitbttr]

insecure toji :(

—

toji is great at hiding his insecurities. best at it, even.

to be a man you are not allowed to showcase any emotion nor shed a tear in front of anyone. it would bring such great dishonor to family, especially to zenin.

that’s how he was raised by his father. he’s got the marks and bruises to prove it, hasn’t he?

but one thing that toji is very much insecure about is he knows how financially unstable he is.

by any means, he’s not poor. yet, he’s not enough either. and it’s never become a problem for him until he has you.

a beautiful woman whom he had met exactly a year ago at a dingy bar when he had just gotten off from his late shift,

he remembers vividly how you looked that night. sophisticated and gorgeous. a dress that fits your body too well and a voice that could make any man weak at their knees.

it was obvious you had eyes on you as a conversation was shared between you and a few friends, yet you paid no mind at first.

but you took that chance anyway and looked to your right, a small chuckle heaved from you as the man quickly averted his gaze down to his lap with a small blush upon his cheeks. embarrassed that he got caught.

“you came alone?” you asked, resting your chin upon your open palm with a small head tilt,

“y-yeah” he laughs, nodding at you. “just got off from a shift, figured a drink would be nice”

you hum, smiling at the handsome man few feet from you. “graveyard shift?” a little tease won’t hurt,

“something like that” he laughs again and you might be biased because he has the most cutest one you’ve ever heard, “all that and still not enough to treat myself somewhere nice”

a joke but you see how much pain he hides when he says that,

“eh—as long as you’re still alive, there are lots of things that needs to be grateful for” you shrug as you answer. “are you grateful, sir?””

never in his life has he ever heard someone asked him that question,

“very much so, ma’am” he nods yet again, lips stretching into a smile and you catch a glimpse of his thin scar adorning his lips. “or at least i try to be”

you listen well to what he has to say. “try” you repeat the word he just said. “exactly—it’s better to say that rather than completely give up everything—got someone back home?”

he chuckles, lacing his fingers together. “if you meant a three year old son, yes”

“he means a lot to you then?”

“i’d give him the world” he corrects your statement in seconds, thoughts of little megumi clouding his mind. “the only thing that keeps me going”

“well—“ you begin again before saying goodbyes to your friends and colleagues. “that makes him your purpose, then”

he hums, confirming everything what you had just said as the two of your continues to stare into each other’s eyes.

“why don’t you come over here? talk to me more about you” you offer,

“would hate to ruin your evening, ma’am—my shit is far too complex and boring” he chuckles,

you shake your head in disagreement, smiling at him. “every human’s life is complex—it just depends on those people around us who’s willing to sit and listen—and i chose to listen. so come here” you push a stool in front of you with your feet for him to sit on,

little did you know, toji immediately fell in love with you that night,

“i’m broke, angel” he admits out of the blue, earning a glance from you. “i don’t know why you wanted to do anything with me when i could barely give you something”

your brows are furrowed, “toji wha-“

“i saw those two men tonight who came up to you. very well dressed men” he swallows a lump, “they could probably fix your life. seeing the watch on their wrists? i mean” he chuckles with no humor laced in it and it concerns you even mode,

“who wouldn’t?” his eyes then move briefly to yours, whose eyes scanning through his features like there’s something deeply wrong about him. “you’re a beautiful woman with a the kindest soul i’ve ever seen and i’m just the lucky bastard who gets to be with you… I still question myself sometimes ‘why on earth does she wants to be with me?’ “

“they could provide you better” he ends the sentence with a small voice

“baby” you speak with tenderness, fingers quickly moving under his chin and get him to look at you when he refuses. “toji baby, look at me”

and it nearly damn breaks your heart when you see toji struggles to push back his tears,

“where is all of this coming from?”

he shrugs merely as a response, shyly looking down,

“I’m supposed to be the man of the house, treating you nice, getting you jewels and shit but i barely can cover up bills to pay” he admits,

and if silence was the only thing you could hear that night, then a chip of your heart could probably still be heard.

“i don’t fucking care” four words leave your mouth sharply. “what you-we” you correct, “have to go through—i will go through it with you—and i will not leave you behind”

toji releases a breath as your thumb pads against his skin, eyes staring contently into yours with a heart that beats softly for you,

“if i had to sit my ass all night, going through jobs applications, and waking up in the morning to drive you for hundreds of interviews then i will” you firmly state, both hands now cupping his face as you wipe away his small tears.

“i will not just sit and watch you fall” hearing your voice almost breaks is enough to make his heart clench too. “who bought megumi his favorite books yesterday?”

toji gulps. “i did”

“who bought the groceries this month because we wanted to have pasta for dinner?”

“i did” he answers again, hand holding your wrist,

“who made reservations at that crazy expensive restaurant on the South because his demanding ass wanted to treat me something?”

hearing that makes him chuckle, nodding. “me”

“yeah” you confirm. “you did, baby.” a small smile appears on your face. “so as long as you’re able to put food on the table, you’re okay. as long as you’re able to give megumi what he needs, you are not broke. as long as you have a roof over your head, treating me good, we are okay. you hear me?”

he nods once again, feeling his heart fails to finds a steady rhythm by how gentle yet firm you are with your words.

“but you mentioned about the dress—“

“ay, papi—enough” a groan escapes you. “i don’t give a damn about a 2,000 dollar dress knowing you’d probably rip it off of me anyway”

toji releases a loud laugh, his hands moving down to your waist. his forehead knocking softly against yours, holding onto you tightly as if he’s afraid that you will disappear.

it is at this moment that toji realizes at this point that no one would probably put up with him nor understand him like you,

because it is what it is. you love him for him not for the money he owns. you look at the whole landscape and saw a real man. that’s what made you fall in love

“none of that bullshit anymore, okay? please?” you beg with wavering voice, hurt that your boyfriend is feeling this way about everything,

“okay—i’m sorry, angel i just—“

“i get it baby, i get it” you nod, kissing his lips. “but you don’t have to be scared with me, yeah? i got you like you got me. and when shit gets too hard, i’ll still be here for you. for megumi” you promise,

“if that was your way of trying to get rid of me then you need to try harder—i’ve had worse and there’s no way in hell i’m leaving” a playful statement that brings another laugh between you two,

“i’ll put the ring on it one day, princess—i promise” and he will, he knows he will,

you know that too,

“i know baby—i know”

maybe lucky isn’t the only thing he’s feeling when he’s got you

—

not proofread so its probably a mess