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randomcreator-09 · 4 months ago

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Small Heath's Songbird: Christmas Eve Special (Thomas ShelbyxOCY/N)

(GIF ain't mine > I forgor ack pls dm me if it's yours)

ARGHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS SCENE MADE ME WANNA EXPLODE XD

Part One - Part Two

>>>MINORS DNI<<<

✨Pure fluff, Lil Angst, No Grace, Smut >:D [pnv (wrap it before you tap it), slight choking, bottom!dom Tommy, switch!dom reader, overstimulation(m&f)] Happy Ending ^^ (cuz I've had enough bad endings irl TvT)✨

🐧Hoe Hoe Hoe all of us HAHAHAHAHAHHA XD. I hope ya'll getting laid this Christmas Eve cuz, I aint X"D. Anyways you do not need to read part one... this can be just a one-shot itself, but fair warning you might not understand who our OCY/N is so... yeah... go read part one XD Tried to make it as short as possible since it's just a special but seemingly failed :"D but ey... Merry Christmas ^^!!!🐧

Own character description but it's Y/N POV

3.2k words

REBLOG TO SPREAD ADDICTION and kudos are appreciated too thank you ^^

Enjoy reading ^^

Part One - Part Two

-----

It has been more than a week since your last encounter with the owner of Arrow House, Thomas. Your first kiss with him last December 15th was something that kept you giddy to work as soon as the morning sun rose and before Miss Florence could knock at your door to wake you up, your room was already empty.

You went with your usual routine of sweeping off dust on paintings and sculptures, careful not to break or tear anything. This wasn't the first house you became a personal maid for someone, you've basically worked as a royal made once before getting kicked out by the head maid for "Eloping" with her man (which you didn't. The man was just accusing you because you said no to all his advances, which ended up with you on the whore house with 'Missus'). Humming as you cleaned and twirled, Miss Florence saw you and turned away with a smile.

-----

However, as fast as you were giddy that day, it was also punched right out you when you were called to attend to one of Thomas's whores.

"Ah! Y/N?" She slutterly (is that even a word??? XD) mentioned your name as she walked around you with the same dark coat Thomas had placed upon your shoulders to keep you warm yesterday.

"Yes." you muttered between gritted teeth, trying not to yank the coat away from her filthy body.

"Mmm... Mr. Shelby kept mentioning that name in our session." She said with great despise. That information had your body in tingles. 'My name? in sex? in a normal convo? with another woman?' this came up to mind as the whore walked away after wafting her hair and up the stairs to Thomas's room, possibly to regain his favours to her.

Questions bursts out your mind to the thought that was left behind. "...Mr. Shelby kept mentioning that name..." but why?

-----

After that day, you have never seen Thomas again in Arrow House. Miss Florence said he was on a business trip somewhere and would not be back till Christmas. That gave you time to think and to reflect on the kiss. AND to that whores last comment on their 'sessions'. Weird enough you thought that maybe she just heard it wrong, if not wrong then... why?

That had your mind busy for the rest of the week. Although with all the chores in hand, it made you forget Thomas easily. Suddenly remembering that the audition to the Garrison bar was going to be held on Christmas Eve. You had asked Miss Florence to be excused for that day, which she allowed.

-----

"Y/N!" a familiar voice called out to you through the swirling snow. You turned and saw ‘Missus,’ bundled in her thick, patched-up coat, her breath visible in the cold air as she waved enthusiastically.

“Missus,” you greeted her with a smile, tugging your own coat tighter around you as the wind picked up. Despite the chill in the air, her warmth was contagious.

“Still don’t know why you’re wastin’ that voice of yours on dusty houses. Tonight’s your chance, love. Show ‘em what you’re made of!” she declared, stepping closer. Her cheeks were flushed, whether from the cold or the drink she’d likely had before venturing out, you couldn’t tell.

“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” you teased lightly, though you were secretly glad to have her there.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” she replied, giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Now, let’s get inside before we freeze to death.”

The two of you entered the Garrison, the warmth and chaos of the pub hitting you like a wave. The air was thick with smoke and laughter, and the smell of ale lingered heavily. At the center of it all was a rather tone-deaf singer, standing on the makeshift stage, belting out a rowdy tune. Her pitch was so off that even the drunkest men in the room winced occasionally.

The pub owner, Harry, stood near the bar, shaking his head. “Alright, that’s enough! Off you go!” he barked, waving her down.

The woman staggered off, her cheeks burning as the crowd erupted in laughter and went back to their conversations. Harry rubbed his temple, muttering to himself as he reached for another pint.

Missus nudged you forward with her elbow. “Go on, love.”

You hesitated, your nerves getting the better of you, but Missus had no patience for second-guessing. She marched you straight to Harry. “Oy, Harry!”

The man turned, clearly unimpressed. “What now?”

“She’s here for the audition,” Missus announced proudly, gesturing to you like you were already a star.

Harry raised a skeptical brow, his eyes raking over you lazily. “You sing, do ya?”

“Yes,” you replied, your voice firmer than you felt inside.

“Sure, why not,” he said with a shrug. “You lot are all bloody awful anyway. The men are drunk enough, so go ahead—ruin my ears like the rest of ‘em.” He waved a dismissive hand toward the stage.

Before you could argue or even steady your nerves, Missus grabbed your arm and practically dragged you toward the stage. “That’s my girl!” she shouted, her voice echoing over the clamor of the pub. She plopped herself down at a table near the front, pint in hand, cheering you on with the enthusiasm of ten people.

You stood on the small stage, feeling the weight of every eye in the room—except for the ones you wanted most. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted Thomas and his brothers seated in the far-right corner, engrossed in their own conversation. Thomas was leaning back in his chair, cigarette in hand, his expression unreadable. His brothers were equally disinterested, laughing at some joke you couldn’t hear over the din.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped closer to the piano and sat, your hands trembling slightly as you placed it on the notes. The room began to quiet down, curious about the new face on stage.

>>>>MOOSIC<<<<

As the first notes of “It Came Upon a Midnight Clear” left the piano chords, the pub seemed to hold its breath. As you started to sing though that's when everyone was in awe. The soft, ethereal melody floated through the room, starkly different from the raucous atmosphere moments ago.

"It came upon the midnight clear,

that glorious song of old,

from angels bending near the earth

to touch their harps of gold:

"Peace on the earth, good will to men,

from heaven's all-gracious King."

The world in solemn stillness lay,

to hear the angels sing."

You glanced around as you sang. Some of the patrons were swaying gently, their mugs forgotten for a moment. Harry stood behind the bar, his usual gruffness replaced with a look of mild surprise. Missus was, of course, beaming at you, her pint raised high in salute.

And then your gaze landed on Thomas. He was no longer leaning back in his chair, his cigarette halfway to his lips, forgotten. His sharp blue eyes were fixed on you, and for a moment, it felt as though the rest of the pub had melted away.

His brothers seemed to notice his sudden silence, exchanging glances before following his gaze to the stage. But Thomas didn’t move. He simply watched, his expression a mix of curiosity and something deeper—something that sent a thrill through you as you hit the chorus:

"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men,

from Heaven’s all-gracious King..."

Your voice grew stronger, more confident, as the room continued to listen in hushed awe.

"Still through the cloven skies they come

with peaceful wings unfurled,

and still their heavenly music floats

o'er all the weary world;"

Your voice rang clear and steady now, weaving through the smoky air like a hymn in a sacred hall. The clamor of the pub had ceased entirely, save for the occasional clink of a glass or the creak of a chair as someone shifted to get a better view.

"Above its sad and lowly plains,

they bend on hovering wing,

and ever o'er its Babel sounds

the blessed angels sing."

Your eyes swept across the room as the words spilled effortlessly from your lips, each note carrying a haunting beauty. The drunkards, their mugs poised mid-air, watched you with wide eyes. Missus raised her pint higher, tears glinting in her eyes as she mouthed along with the words, clearly as proud as any mother watching her child’s first recital.

But it was Thomas’s gaze that kept pulling you back. He was leaning forward now, his elbows on the table, his piercing blue eyes locked on you with an intensity that made your heart falter mid-note. His brothers were as amused as Thomas was, their quiet singing along going unnoticed by him as he remained transfixed.

The pub faded into a blur around you, and for a moment, it was just you and him. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, not quite a smile, but something softer, something rare. It made you feel both seen and exposed, like he was peeling back every layer of your soul with just a look.

You closed your eyes, letting the final verses of the carol guide you.

"For lo! the days are hastening on,

by prophet bards foretold,

when with the ever-circling years

comes round the age of gold;

when peace shall over all the earth

its ancient splendors fling,

and the whole world give back the song

which now the angels sing."

The last note hung in the air, delicate and trembling, before dissolving into the stillness.

The room erupted in applause, shattering the quiet spell you’d cast. Missus was on her feet, cheering loud enough to make up for anyone who wasn’t clapping. Harry nodded approvingly from the bar, a rare grin on his face.

And then there was Thomas. He didn’t clap, didn’t cheer, but his eyes said enough. There was something unspoken there, something electric that left you breathless as you stepped off the stage.

Missus grabbed you the moment your feet touched the floor, pulling you into a bear hug. “That’s my girl!” she hollered, spinning you around.

-----

As the noise swelled back into the room and the drunken revelry resumed, you glanced toward the far-right corner one last time. Thomas was no longer were he was, you looked around to see his brothers were eyeing you. John was grinning from ear to ear as he tipped his hat to you, you gestured with a soft smile. Arthur, visibly high from whatever he took, winked at you, making your soft smile widen a bit at the gesture as you shook your head continuing your drink with missus.

"Got a voice young lady, you ain't no whore like missus here ain't you?" Harry asked as he passed you your glass of water (you don't drink, taking care of your voice).

"No sir," you said in a hushed tone as missus and Harry glared knives at each other, clearly having a mental fight.

"Alright! you got the gig, every Saturday at noon. Don't be late." he huffed as he tended to other customers on the pub.

You beamed as you silently squealed with Missus. You now had enough jobs to be able to earn and go for an adventure; now it's just time to earn until-

Your reverie was cut short when a sudden familiar voice lingered behind you.

“Looking for me, darling?” His voice carried that familiar gruffness, the edges softened by something you couldn’t quite place.

You turned, startled but delighted. “Thomas,” you breathed, standing instinctively. His sharp blue eyes met yours, and for a moment, the entire pub seemed to dissolve around you.

“You’ve got a voice, Y/N,” he said, his tone quieter now, almost reverent. “Had the whole pub hanging on your every note. Even Arthur stopped his nonsense to listen.”

A faint blush crept up your neck at his words. “Thank you,” you murmured, your gaze falling briefly to the floor.

“I mean it,” he pressed. “Didn’t know you had that in you. If I’d known, I’d have dragged you to sing long ago.”

You smiled shyly but then felt the weight of a lingering question pull you back. Gathering your courage, you glanced up at him. “Thomas... about something the other day…”

He raised an eyebrow, waiting.

You inhaled deeply, your words tumbling out before your nerves could catch you. “That woman. Back at the Arrow House. She said you... mentioned my name. During her... visit.”

For the first time, you saw Thomas falter. His jaw tightened, and he cleared his throat, glancing away. “Ah, bloody hell,” he muttered under his breath, raking a hand through his hair.

“Well?” you prompted, your heart pounding.

He sighed, cursing himself softly before meeting your gaze again. “I did,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “She said somethin’ about loyalty or... some nonsense, and your name just... slipped out.”

“Slipped out?” you repeated, your brows arching.

“Can’t help what’s on my mind, love,” he said with a sheepish grin. “After our kiss in the kitchen that night I couldn't stop thinking about you, I couldn't possibly have you on your knees all of a sudden," he paused as he huffed another batch of his cigar. "You-your were a lady when I first saw you. Not a personal maid, so I fell for your soul and well voice now too and it’s going to be bloody distracting now that I have these in mind.”

He paused yet again, seemingly trying to recall all his thoughts, which were now visibly in jumbles. "I like to get to know you," he said as he stubbed his cigar dead on the ashtray. "It seemed like I've known you for years when we had just met that very day, and I won't be able to stop thinking about you now."

Your cheeks burned at his confession, and you averted your eyes, a small, flustered laugh escaping your lips. “Well, I... I suppose I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you either,” you confessed, your voice barely audible over the noise of the pub.

His grin widened, the rare softness in his expression making your heart stutter. “Then we’ve both been fools, haven’t we?” he murmured, stepping closer. “Let me make it right. Take you out. Like a real lady.”

Before you could answer, Missus yanked you back by the arm, her eyes narrowed. “Not so fast, lover boy,” she said, pointing a finger at Thomas. “I’m takin’ her home, since you two might start shagging when she goes back to Arrow House today.”

“Missus!" shocked by her boldness but not surprised as she was already dragging you toward the door.

“Tomorrow, then!” Thomas called after you, a smirk tugging at his lips.

-----(Present Day, December 25th)

The warmth of the fireplace cast a golden glow over the living room as your daughter sat cross-legged on the floor by the Christmas tree, her curious eyes fixed on you. “But Mommy! Missus says she did no such thing!” she exclaimed, giggling.

You shot a playful glare at Missus, who was sitting comfortably in the armchair by the fire, sipping her tea. “Oh, did she now?” you teased, shaking your head.

Missus laughed, her graying hair framing her face. “Don’t listen to her, love. I was just keeping your mother out of trouble.”

The room filled with laughter until a familiar voice interrupted. “Baby, Daddy needs Mommy for a while, yeah? Why don't you go and play with Missus for a while.” Thomas said, stepping into the room.

Your daughter lit up and nodded. “Okay, Daddy!” she chirped, running over to Missus with her toys in hand.

Thomas extended a hand to you, his expression as unreadable as ever but his eyes warm. As soon as you were in the hallway, he leaned closer. “What were you tellin’ her?”

You smiled, leaning into his touch. “Just the story of how we met. You know, the softer version.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Softer version, eh? Did you leave out the bit where I killed Luca Changretta for your hand?”

A laugh bubbled from your lips as you shook your head. “No, it’s a bit too brutal for a five-year-old, my dear Tommy.”

He smirked, his hands sliding over yours. “In time, then,” he murmured, his voice laced with affection. “But for now…”

Without warning, he scooped you up in his arms, carrying you effortlessly toward the stairs.

“Thomas!” you squealed, laughing loudly as you clung to him.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he whispered, his grin widening as he carried you up, your laughter echoing through the house.

-----(Thomas's POV)

Thomas scooped you into his arms, holding you close as though you were the most precious thing in his world. He started up the stairs, his steps steady yet unhurried.

“You don’t have to carry me, you know,” you said, a soft laugh escaping your lips.

He looked down at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “Oh, I do. You’re my princess tonight—and every night.”

Your cheeks flushed as you playfully swatted his shoulder. “You’re so cheesy, Thomas.”

“Only for you,” he replied, leaning down to brush his lips against your forehead.

As he entered the room, he nudged the door shut with his foot and gently placed you on the bed. The golden glow of the fairy lights illuminated your face, making you look ethereal. He slowly placed you down onto your shared bed and paused, taking you in as if committing the moment to memory.

“You’re staring,” you teased, your lips curling into a soft smile.

“Can you blame me?” he replied, his voice dropping to a husky whisper. “You’re breathtaking.”

Your smile faltered, replaced by a look of vulnerability. “You make me feel that way,” you murmured.

He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. “That’s because it’s true,” he said softly, his forehead resting against yours.

He began to trail kisses along your cheeks and down your neck, his movements slow and deliberate. “Tell me if I ever do too much,” he whispered against your skin, his breath warm and comforting.

“You could never do too much,” you replied, your voice steady but filled with emotion. “I trust you.”

His lips curved into a smile against your neck. “I’ll make sure you never regret that,” he said, his tone serious yet filled with love.

As your connection deepened, you let out a soft laugh. “You’re so gentle, Thomas. It’s like you’re afraid I’ll break.”

“I’m not afraid,” he replied, his voice a mix of playfulness and sincerity. “I just want you to know how much I adore you—every part of you.”

As he said those words, his lips were now down to yours. Tickling your lower abdomen with soft kisses and slowly licking your clit from top to the bottom, making you hiss in pleasure.

He couldn't get over the taste of you, finer than the whisky he drinks and the cigar he smokes. He can forget Ophium, when you are one addicting woman.

"Fuck... I love you Y/N" He mutters as he laps his wet tongue through your slit and holds your hips as you were twitching heavy. His thumb on your clit drawing circles slowly and at rhythm to his tongue.

When he hears you scream his name like a prayer his pants suddenly felt tight and he couldn't let it wait any longer, he had to make you cum on his mouth now or never.

"Cum for me baby. Please... Oh God Please let me taste you" as he enters his tongue in you and his nose nuzzled on your clit and fingers twisting your nipples, fast.

"Th-Thomas! I-I'm Ah!" and release you did. However that didn't stop him and he kept his ministering to you until you could feel that satisfying release on the depths of your stomach.

"Thomas! I... I might make a mess..." You plead him as you trashed on his grasp without avail for his biceps were locked on your hips and legs. "Then make a mess. I'd love to see you make a mess for me, love"

And you squirted on his mouth. As he slowly pulls himself away and smirks looking at your majestic image, "Fuck, love you look gorgeous".

He was about to come back down and devour you once more but you won't let that happen this Christmas day. So, when you took control, he couldn’t help but smile up at you as your fingers traced the sharp angles of his face. “You know, I don’t think I say this enough,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“What’s that?” he asked, his hands resting on your hips as he gazed up at you, completely captivated.

“I love you,” you said simply, your words carrying the weight of your feelings.

His eyes softened, and a slow smile spread across his lips. “You don’t have to say it all the time. I feel it every moment I’m with you.”

When you finally lay side by side, your breaths still mingling, Thomas turned to you, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “You’re my everything, you know that?” he said softly.

You smiled, your eyes glistening. “You’re mine, too,” you replied.

He chuckled, his voice warm and low. “Merry Christmas, love.”

“Merry Christmas, Thomas,” you whispered back, as you kissed him softly on his lips.

Thomas groaned, a low sound of pleasure, as you shifted your position, straddling him. Inserting his cock to yours, His hands instinctively found your waist, holding you steady as you began to move. His breath hitched, and he looked up at you with an expression that was equal parts awe and adoration.

“You’re going to be the end of me,” he murmured, his voice strained yet teasing, as his hands tightened slightly on your hips, guiding your rhythm.

You leaned forward, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “I think you like it this way.”

A chuckle escaped him, though it quickly dissolved into another groan as you continued. His head fell back against the pillow, exposing his neck as he surrendered entirely to you. Your fingers slid to his jaw, tilting his face back toward you.

“Look at me,” you said softly, your voice firm but full of affection.

His eyes fluttered open, locking onto yours as your hand moved to his throat. You applied the slightest pressure, watching as his breath hitched and his gaze darkened.

“Is this okay?” you asked, pausing briefly to ensure he was comfortable.

Thomas’s hands slid up your sides, his grip reassuring. “Perfect,” he rasped, his voice thick with emotion.

You continued, your movements slow and deliberate, savoring the moment as much as he was. His hands roamed your body, occasionally tightening as he got closer to the edge.

“I’m not going to last,” he murmured, his voice strained.

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips as you whispered, “Then don’t hold back, baby.”

Moments later, the tension in his body gave way, and he groaned your name, his voice heavy with release. You followed shortly after, your body trembling as you reached your peak.

Breathless, you collapsed onto his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively. Neither of you spoke for a while, the only sound in the room being your steady breaths mingling together.

Thomas finally broke the silence, his voice soft and full of contentment. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You smiled against his chest, your fingers drawing lazy patterns on his skin. “Merry Christmas, Thomas.”

----

🐧Hopefully I ended that well :"D aha... mhen :"D I just wanted it to be cute and all since its christmas aha~ so merry christmas everyone ^^ have a happy holiday ^^🐧

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Part One - Part Two

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theweasleytwinsownmyjuicyass · 1 year ago

Text

Wait for you Pt.2 | L.N.

Lando Norris x reader

Summary: Nothing can stand between true love. But what if said love is taken from one's memory?

Warnings: angst, fluff:3

Word count: ~4.9K

A/N: Hello hello! I have finally got aroud to finishing this piece! Hope ya'll enjoy it <3

Lando could not concentrate, not for more than a sentence before his mind was once again playing you as his favourite movie.

Your smile, your eyes it all felt too good to be true and lord… the kiss. Lando had to physically restrain himself every time his mind went there. All he wanted was to run out of this room full of people talking about plans for the upcoming race and just run to you.

His skin was itchy and on fire from waiting for your touch. Now that you’ve given him a dose, given him hope, he was hooked with anticipation for more.

After the conference everyone dispersed into their own rooms except for Lando who followed Oscar to his driver’s room.

“Oscar you will not believe what happened!” Lando giggled as he closed the door.

Thus began the recollection of the touching moment on the roof top with you.

“- and then I asked her out and she said yes, and even gave me a kiss on my cheek before I entered the conference room! Can you imagine that Oscar?! She kissed me!” excitement was pooling around Lando’s lower lash line.

Oscar had forgotten what a truly happy Lando looked like and no matter how tired he was now, he did not want to be anywhere but right here on the uncomfortably tough sofa, listening to his friend talk about his love, especially because that love was you.

“Well that sounds like good news mate, where are you gonna take her by the way?” Oscar watched the life drain from Lando’s face as the excitement for the rendezvous converted to pure stress of the situation.

“Oh my God?! Where am I going to take her?!” Lando started pacing around the small room in circles making Oscar feel positively dizzy just from following Lando with his eyes.

“HELP ME OSCAR!” The older male pulled at his own hair out of sheer desperation for someone else’s input.

“Well just take her where you’ve taken her before, it’ll help her jog the memory,” Oscar answered calmly, rubbing his eyes. Lando’s pacing really did make him dizzy.

“Wait, that’s actually a really good idea. She loved our first date, she was never tired from talking about it,” Lando‘s eyes sparkled with the memory of your hands wrapping around his every time you told someone about your first date. Those were the moments when Lando understood just how deeply he felt for you and how you loved him just as much.

“Exactly. Everything is gonna work out, I can feel it,” Oscar laid an encouraging hand on his teammates shoulder. If reassurance was what Lando needed, Oscar will be there to provide.

The next few days at the paddock were filled with shy glances and giggles as the date spurred the two to secure their connection. Your laughter was never ending as so were Lando’s bright smiles. It seemed that every sentence Lando could think of sounded like the funniest joke to your ears.

While Oscar explained their upcoming race schedule to Lando, comically unbeknownst to him, Lando’s eyes were trained only on one person, as for all his attention too.

“What do you think about that Lando?” Oscar looked into the eyes of his friend only to find his point of attention trained behind himself rather than at him.

As he turned to find the culprit of Lando’s attention, he found no one else but you perched on a counter, lit up by the golden evening sun. Lando giggled as you waved at him and lifted his hand to wave back at you, both of your blushes ever-growing.

“Oh c’mon man, we’ve been through this!” Oscar’s eyes rolled back into his skull.

Damn these two love birds. As much as Oscar was thrilled for his friends once again being together the shy-giggly faze is just as annoying as it was a year ago.

You winked at Lando and he almost lost his stance.

“Really?” Oscar signs.

“She’s flirting with me!” Lando became defensive clutching his chest.

“Mate she’s literally your girlfriend…”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that,” Lando’s smile never left his face as he watched your eyes focus back on the book that lay rested on your thighs.

In that moment something clicked for Lando. Life is truly as good as it can get. All uncertainty has been washed away by hope. It truly felt like you were healing him with every single glance. Perhaps it was just Lando’s imagination but whenever he met your eyes they were yours, he knew those eyes and for the first time in a long time Lando could let himself cry out of happiness when thinking of you. The clouds have dispersed, with each passing day you remembered more and said things that would make Lando stop in his tracks.

Lando no longer needed to look for you, because you were already there…

The over-packed luggage bag fell out of your hands at the sweet sight of a white fluffy bed. Lord knows you wasted no time jumping into the bed after kicking your shoes off at the door.

“Ughhh, this is heaven,” your voice was muffled by numerous pillows, but Lando still heard it clearly.

“I’m gonna set up my sim here, okay?” He asked, unsure if you wished for him to leave or stay. After all sleep was what you favoured over anything.

“Yeah it’s no problem, you know I don’t mind you being around,” you lifted your head slightly and shot him a smile.

“You’re the best!” Lando smiled in excitement and in a few minutes the desk area of the hotel bedroom became a sim racing corner.

“cute,” you admired the man only loud enough for yourself to hear.

It felt like only a couple seconds had passed before Lando was once again calling your name.

“Y/nnnn, are you sleeping?” His eyes met your half lidded ones. Gosh you looked cute, all sleepy… and so kissable.

“I am now,” you yawned the words out, eyes not yet fully open.

“Good, you better not be sleeping, I need you to see me win this,” his concentration in the game never faltered even with you on his mind.

“Don’t worry I’m awake,” you yawned once again making Lando chuckle. “You know, you could just wake me up when you finish and tell me the result?”

“Nooo,” he whined, “I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me?” He turned back for a second just to make sure you were behind him.

And you were. You were sitting there wrapped in a blanket, eyes big and oh so soft. You were there with him and that was all he ever needed.

You climbed out of the bed and stood behind him, hands in his hair and a kiss on his temple to which he let out a satisfactory sigh. ”You’re going to win Lan, I know you can.”

“I’ll only win if you’re by my side, love.” He crossed the finish line and turned around kissing you deeply before you could even congratulate him. His hands were quick to hook under your thighs, your warm skin tickling his fingers. He picked you up effortlessly, nestling the both of you into the bed that had already soaked up the scent of your floral perfume. It’s the same one he gifted you on your last birthday.

Your hands tangled around him, pulling him closer until you breathe the same air. His eyes were glossy, pupils dilated to a point where you could barely see the storm of green and blue. Your fingertips draged across his soft skin and to his silky curls. He was everywhere and you hoped it always stayed that way.

You’re still drunk on quality sleep when the morning light pulled you out of the peaceful slumber. Your hands instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed ghosting over the empty mattress, “Lan?”

A pout formed on your lips as you found the bed empty and void of any and all warmth.

Suddenly your eyes shot open but then again closed up, pain of the bright lighting residing in your retina.

You turned to your left side. Empty bedside. No Lando.

You felt yourself swimming in confusion. Your memories mixing with moments unseen before.

Was I dreaming? Dreaming of Lando in my bed? Quite puzzling indeed.

But what puzzled you most was that you were in Spain, but Lando was not in your bed.

That revelation, for some unknown reason, did not sit well with you.

Overwhelmed you sat up on the bed, trying so hard to understand why for the love of god you were looking for Lando in your bed.

Why would Lando be here? Why was he in my dream? Was it really a dream?

You got off the bed and started looking for any clues that the dream was not actually a dream but reality.

Although the only thing you found is yourself feeling something for Lando Norris you had not felt before.

Dream or reality? This only served to confuse your heart further.

Your eyes caught the clock on the wall, a clear sign that you should hurry as the slender black arrow was about to meet the number seven.

Today was a free day for the grid. That meant that you were to meet Oscar and Lando in the hotel gym and later head for a complimentary breakfast with the two.

Hanging at the gym with them was not as fun as most imagine. Without their active energy being aimed at making jokes it was easy to get bored since you were not in a mood for a workout.

After walking around for a good five minutes you ran into Alonso.

Ever since you first came to formula 1 Fernando fit right into your life, kind of like a father figure at most times and sometimes as an older and much wiser friend.

For that very reason you were now sat at one of the many leather benches talking the older man’s ear off about everything that had been going left instead of turning out right.

“Every day whenever I’m left alone it just gets so annoying, like I truly have nothing to do, but I have nothing I want to do. Like I’m just trying to sit somewhere and relax but it somehow feels too bland,” a heavy sign exited your lungs making Fernando put down his weights and put all of his attention on you now.

“Take them,” he was clutching a plastic earphone box lightly in his left hand, extending it towards you.

“Don’t you need them?” you lifted your eyes out of curiosity but did not dare take them just yet.

Fernando was quick to brush your question off, “Ech, I don’t like these wireless things, I always loose them.”

Your eyes locked on the case. Do I even like listening to music?

“Don’t worry these are unused, I got them from PR this morning,” he let out a chuckle, unnerved by your silence after being surrounded by your voice for so long.

“Are you sure?” you were uncertain but Fernando thrust the case into your hands and ruffled your hair as you smiled up at the man. “Thank you Fernando.”

“It’s all my pleasure sweetheart, it’s about time you started listening to your music again.”

Fernando walked away before you could inquire him about your taste of music, and how he knew so much about it.

There it was again, that uncomfortable feeling. You felt as if you were behind in class, like everyone knew what was going on and which formula to use for a certain problem, but you did not.

Everyone around you seemed to know things about you before you got to discover them yourself and that did nothing but make you uncomfortable in your own skin.

That is where the spiralling set in.

All of a sudden the world shifted off its natural axes and you were no longer there. Your words seemed to get stuck in your head, your movements too slow and every time you tried to pay attention your mind was engulfed in a thick cloud.

It was all messing you up to further close in on yourself.

Lando noticed. Of course Lando noticed. Even if it was only a week, Lando noticed…

There was one thing Lando actually paid attention to and it was you. But once again his great attraction to you was beginning to pain him, little by little scratching at his heart. With each cold shoulder and weak smile he could feel it, he could feel you moving further from him while he was stationary, just a few steps behind you, nonetheless too far than he’d like to be.

Lando’s eyes drifted around the white ceiling of his driver’s room as he tried to trace his steps back and see what might have caused you to stray from him. Was it something he did? If it was he’d better fix it before it became too late. But what could he have done?

You had the date about three weeks ago, that was fine, great even, and he hadn’t had you so happy and respondent in months. Then there was the free week before Spain which he spent with his family while you went to Australia with Oscar, but you texted and called every single day, most days it was you who initiated the calls and reassured him that he was not keeping you from sleep as the two of you were separated by many, many hours.

Then there was the night you landed in Spain. Lando had waited in the airport for hours, wishing he was the one to take you to the hotel and surprise you with your favourite flowers.

He remembered Spain last year. He could never forget, it was your first time at a race as a couple, the relationship still fresh as a wildflower. Lando was hoping for a win, and he felt he could win with you by his side, like he did the night before on the sim, only because you were there watching him with your soft loving and undeniably sleepy eyes…

He expected to jog your memory with the help of the familiar Spanish scenery however it appeared to blow up right in his face the next day.

He picked you up at the airport and you were happy. Right? Yes. You jumped into his arms, you held his hand and even let a tear escape your eye as you held the flowers close to your chest. On the ride to the hotel you talked so much, excitedly telling him about all kinds of aussie adventures you, Oscar and his girlfriend Lilly got up to. He listened all through them with a pearly smile, even if he had heard the stories before from Oscar, asking you questions while knowing the answers to them only because he knew you’d feel cared for and appreciated if he asked. And to end the short but splendid night you kissed goodnight after he walked you to your room. It was meant to be a thank you for his kindness but the real thank you for him where your eyes.

Your eyes were his weakness since day one.

But the next day your eyes were not your eyes anymore… They were not yours ever since.

Was this it? Is this how life is going to be now? He will work and work to get just a bit of you for you to forget it all the next day.

He had heard about such a thing from doctors how some amnesia patients have clear sky days when they become who they were before but even a slight factor can alter that and not an hour later they can forget all that happened before.

Does this mean you will never remember him?

What if you never love him again…

“Lan get up you muppet we have a race starting in 20,” Oscar yanked the older boy awake from his daydream and watched him return to reality. “Everything okay mate?” he observed the tired eyes of his friend.

“Yeah… let’s go.” Lando trained his gaze away from Oscar and left the room first. As much as he needed to talk about you now, he just couldn’t do it, not to Oscar, not again…

Your fingers mindlessly wrapped around your ring pulling it on and off constantly before your skin started burning, but that didn’t stop your behaviour.

Thanks to your mind running faster than an F1 car you’ve figured out a few things this week.

First. You liked Lando Norris. And that’s great.

But dreaming about him being your boyfriend? Now that’s a bit too much.

Second. You liked music. More than you initially thought you did.

Third. You liked cornflowers. The blue ones.

You didn’t know that before. You couldn’t really think of a flower you liked before…

Fourth. You had no idea who you were.

There it was again, that unshakable feeling out of alignment. Like the whole world had tilted and you were no longer on the same axis as before. Was it only a few degrees off but you felt worlds apart from the days before.

Your heart was racing again, lungs refusing to take in the oxygen, though it was all around. It was easy and natural to breathe, something no one needed to think about to control, it just happened and for some reason you were once again stuck unable to control your own self, just as you were unable to calm your pounding head.

You entered the garage where Oscar and Lando stood listening to one of their engineers explaining something to them animatedly. The earbuds in your ears were almost unnoticeable, even with the melodic tune, until you made eye contact with Lando’s clear blues did the familiar tune follow.

But I knew you,

Dancin' in your Levi's,

Drunk under a streetlight,

I knew you.

All of a sudden it hit you quite literally like a truck full of bricks. And the world completely swung off its axis.

The memories spun as a wind whirl in front of your eyes.

It played like a movie.

Your eyes filled with tears before you could turn away and leave the crowded space. Too confused and much too overwhelmed with what you’ve just remembered.

There was Lando, and he was everywhere. He was holding your hands and he was kissing you and he was sleeping in your bed. But you didn’t understand where all of this came from, when just moments ago you were trying to figure out if you even like the man, now you felt such a tremendous pull towards him, it scared you.

Lando had watched your small smile fade into a look of confusion and your eyes filled with tears. Your last look was it. Eyebrows pulled together, eyes glossy. Something he had not seen in months now. Your whole face was contoured with memories of you two together. And he could see that, he could see it from your eyes, the eyes that recognised him once more, only they were not glistening with love but with salty tears.

She remembered me. She is crying.

Panic ran Lando’s blood cold. He wanted to chase after you but before he could take one step in your direction a firm hand on his shoulder held him back.

Lando looked at the hand before lifting his eyes to meet the concerned eyes of his teammate, “Lando I know what she means to you, but you have a race starting in 5 minutes. We need to get in those cars.”

“But she’s crying Oscar, something is wrong.” Lando’s voice was demanding and rough, if he needed to push Oscar down to get to you he’d do it, no matter how much the thought of hurting his friend displeased him.

Oscar registered the fiery gaze that made home in Lando’s eyes and he did not want to see what followed but he had no thought of letting him go.

“You have to make a choice Lando. It was never going to be easy.”

As much as it hurt Oscar to say those words to his friend, all he wanted was for you and Lando to be together again.

But Oscar saw you this week. And he saw Lando this week. And neither were sights to marvel at.

You were always an extension of Lando and he poured all he had into the girl he loved. But you were different now, and that was changing Lando, although not always in a right way.

By the end of the day if you did not remember loving him and if their labour proved fruitless Lando would have nothing left. No you, no him. For now Lando at least had F1 and Oscar knew that the only thing he could do is help his friend protect his precious job because he had no call in your mind or feelings.

Only a month ago Oscar felt how everything would work out, but maybe working out meant you two finding your happiness apart and not together. Healing separately and moving on from what had passed. As disturbing as that sounded, it looked like the only solution for both of your wellness.

“Boys, cars, now!” a voice boomed, directing them to take their positions.

Oscar and Lando shared one last glance before Lando pulled his helmet back on and settled into his seat.

It’s gonna be a tough race. Oscar thought.

As expected the race was unlike no other this year, 3 crashes, 5 DNF’s all while Lando drove with the concentration of an eagle, his eyes on the road, but your eyes in his mind.

Lando was rethinking everything, he quite literally had the time, almost two hours before he’s allowed out of this car and can finally see you, he needed to be ready for what was to come in the future… or if there was any future for the two of you left.

What if it is the end?

What if you don’t want him anymore?

A couple of tears travelled down his hot cheek and mixed with his sweat. His eyes were burning, his chest was burning but he pushed and pushed himself unafraid to perform a dangerous over-take with the car in front of him. Mere seconds later a loud cheer echoed through his ear.

“P1 LANDO! YOU ARE THE WINNER LANDO!”

“I won?” He repeated while finishing the cool-down lap, complete disbelief soaking his words.

As soon as he stepped out of the car it was all cheering and flashing lights.

I need you to watch me win. Are you watching me? His own voice resonated through his ears, the memory of your eyes before him.

That was the last thread before he broke down crying next to his car.

Everyone cheered even louder. They thought he was facing the high of his life while he felt like rotting in hell.

He needed you to see him when he won. Now he did win, but you were not watching…

He knew you. He knew you so well. When you told him you’d be there, when you kissed his cheek, when you watched the night sky with him, when you held his hand. He knew you’d come back to him. He knew he’d get to hold your hand again and watch you smile all thanks to his wit.

Only he did not know it would be temporary…

Air got caught in Lando’s throat, it was suffocating being encaged within the helmet.

While Lando stood on the podium accepting his award not once did he look down at the crowd before him. Keeping his eyes on the trophy or the other men sharing the podium with him.

But never down, never to the left corner where from the side of his eye he could see that cluster of bright papaya, never to the very front of that gate, never to where you were supposed to be standing.

Because inside he knew that you were not there, but if he never looked back there then there will be no confirmation, so the theoretical possibility that you might just be there was all he could get and he would hold on to it for dear life.

If he never looked down, he could just let himself imagine that you were there, watching him win…

“See boy, you can’t win everything, but when your time comes, you get all that you want. And Lando, you very well deserve this,” it was Fernando tapping the younger boy on the shoulder, expressing his congratulations.

yeah… I won a race but I lost my love.

Sadness encapsulated his heart and the last thing he wanted now was to pretend to celebrate a long awaited win. Before anyone could get their hands on him he disappeared to his driver’s room.

He opened the door and locked it behind himself. He needed to be alone now.

“Lando,” your soft voice greeted him.

“I knew you,” your eyes were ablaze, “I don’t know how or where it came from, but I knew you and I loved you.” You tried your best to calmly express all feelings that came crashing down on you mere hours ago.

“Loved?” Lando breathed under his nose, he was shattered beyond repair as your declaration made him take in a large gulp of air. Lando could feel himself getting mad. This is so fucking unfair.

“You’re so mean.” He slumped down on the couch, his eyes directed away from you.

“What? Lando I’m trying to-“, you stepped closer to him, instantly regretting that decision.

“AND YOU DON‘T THINK I AM?! I’ve been trying for months now, all alone, while you wanted nothing to do with me. You didn’t even know me, while I had to live around you, still in love with you. It’s so unfair, SO FUCKING UNFAIR ALL OF THIS!”, his hands waved with inner rage. He knew he wasn’t mad at you, it was not your fault, but he was mad at something and he needed to let that out. He needed you to finally know how he felt.

“Lando I am sorry, I-“, you tried to interrupt before Lando completely broke.

“IT’S SO UNFAIR THAT YOU WEREN’T THERE, YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO WATCH ME. SURE YOU DON’T REMEMBER, BUT I DO, I REMEMBER, YOU PROMISED ME YOU’D WATCH ME WIN! AND YOU DIDN’T! YOU LIED!” With each word his voice became louder and louder, he was letting his emotions out for once, tired of holding them in for the sake of everyone else but himself.

“I know Lando! And I did watch you,” you tried to keep your mind levelled and let him let his frustrations out.

“NO, NO YOU DIDN’T, YOU RAN OUT BEFORE THE RACE COULD EVEN START, Y/N I SAW YOU!”

“I. WATCHED. YOU.” You’re the one to raise your voice now, getting close to his face. You needed to show him that you could hear him.

“We were here in Spain a year ago and you were sim racing before the race, you told me to watch you race, because you wanted me to see you win and you did win. But when we woke up the next day I had caught a cold and could not watch you race out on the circuit. You lost and you were crushed. I know Lando. I was there. And I am here now, only this time I was here too, I watched you race and I watched you win.” Your own voice glazed in assertiveness just to make him listen.

Lando’s eyes were in tears, his hands in tight fists unable to understand how something like this could have happened. All of these emotions crashing down on him, he didn’t know what to do, he did not know how to react, he was lost.

Your gentle touch worked to unwrap his tight grip and relax him before placing his palms on your tear stained cheeks.

You’d show him a way, the way you always had.

“I remember Lando. I remember everything. I am so sorry. I’m so sorry for leaving you alone for so long. I’m sorry it took me so long to come back to you. But we can fix this we can work on this together right?” you pleaded with your eyes, attentively searching his own for an answer.

Lando’s first instinct was to pull you into a crushing hug, breathing you in like you were his oxygen.

Lando finally felt at home. It was and always would be your touch, your presence that could ground him.

“You came back to me. I will do everything to keep you close, Y/n,” He whispered into your neck, the hot air tickling your skin making you giggle.

“You came back,” he held you even tighter and your hands were just as firm grasping him.

“I‘ll never leave you again,” you ran your hands through his soaked curls, letting the memories of your life before take over each one of your cells and fill you, “I’m sorry for taking so long my love,”

“Don’t be.” Lando broke the hug so he could look into your eyes again.

Now he saw his true prize. It was your eyes, your rosy cheeks, your glistening lips. You were back and you still loved him,“ I’d always wait for you.”

Tags: @goldsbitch @cmleitora @mickslover @darleneslane @queenofmanydreams @ujws5

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trippinsorrows · 9 months ago

Text

with me + part eighteen

authors notes: two updates back to back! i felt a lil bad for leaving ya'll on a cliffhanger of sorts. granted, this one kinda does too but....not in a bad way. more of a plot twist, than anything.

status: in progress // masterlist

warnings: angst, fluff, language, suggestive themes

song inspo: with me by destiny’s child

faceclaims

words: 7k

taglist: @pixiedust4000 @yolobloggers @msbigredmachine @southerngirl41 @wanderingreigns @romanreignsbae

24 hours.

It’s been 24 hours of absolute chaos and madness.

24 hours of a rush of conflicting and yet corresponding emotions. Anger. Confusion. Sadness.

In the past 24hrs, your love and basically life story have gone from being known to a select few to now being trending topics on every social media platform. Your Instagram, which was already private, had literally hundreds of follow requests the last time you checked it. There are emails in your inbox from several news platforms requesting interviews and offering exclusives.

Hell, a couple of people even reached out to you on your LinkedIn.

It’s all so extremely overwhelming and chaotic, so much so that you had to force Alexis to leave and find some way to calm herself down. Her furious energy, while valid as hell, wasn’t helping. And it's not that you don't get it.

You do. God, you do.

You’d like nothing more than to take a steel chair to Mariah’s head, for you and Alexis to do a beatdown part two since the first one seemingly didn’t send a strong enough message.

But, you can’t. And she can’t either.

The whole world now has eyes on you, now is waiting to see what else comes out of this story that isn’t a story for you.

It’s your fucking life.

“We’re definitely looking into our options here, and there are some routes we can take, but without anything from her specifically saying she was going to do anything—”

“Wait.” It’s the first thing you’ve said in this emergency meeting with Joe and his legal team, a couple of intrigued eyes falling on you. “That’s—that’s not exactly true.”

Joe, as you expected, is the first to speak. “What are you talking about?”

This….this is the last conversation you expected to be having right now. The last thing you thought you’d be doing right now. You should be continuing to prepare for the move, decorating the house, planning how you’re going to tell Joe about your pregnancy.

Instead, you’re sitting in your new kitchen surrounded by lawyers, men in suits, and the man you love who you now have to admit to lying over something, at the time, you thought was nothing.

But that nothing has turned into a nightmare that has not only your personal life being used as media fodder but pictures of your sweet, beautiful, four-year-old daughter circulating the internet, just waiting to fall into the hands of the depraved.

That…..that’s what kills you the most.

It’s not even the “tell all” interview you only managed to watch for 10 minutes before having to turn it off. Even staring at her caked face, most likely to hide the lingering bruises from Alexis beating, makes you mad. Almost as mad at the absolute way she’s taken your and Joe’s story and dramatized it to the point of delusions.

Saying you plotted on Joe from the beginning. That you intentionally got pregnant by him. That you were sleeping with multiple men, meaning there’s a chance he could not be the father. That Joe’s ex-wife called and cussed you out, threatening to beat your ass. That you make Joe give you an allowance.

Just lies. Pure, unadulterated lies that make you sick to your stomach.

This whole thing feels like a never ending cycle of nightmares.

“Y/N?” One of the suits saying your name brings you back to this space, this place of here and now where another lie, one of your own making, is about to be revealed.

Licking your lips, you try to explain it as best you can, though there is no good way to come out and admit you weren’t honest with him. “She—she’d been sending me messages.”

“Messages?” Joe’s interruption is fair and expected, but one of his lawyers jumps in before he can continue.

“Do you still have them?”

Nodding, you pull out your phone, opening Mariah’s thread. You’d blocked and deleted her contact from your phone so it’s just her number as the title for the thread. Reaching the phone to the lawyer, it’s quickly intercepted by Joe.

Just watching his eyes read over the messages, you can almost see his anger growing. He hands the phone over to his lawyer, and you watch as one exchanges the phone with the other.

“This is perfect,” one of the suits shares to the group. “We can definitely slap her with a couple different lawsuits with this evidence. I’m thinking extortion. Most definitely a cease and desist.”

“Defamation too,” someone else chimes.

Joe isn’t interested in any of that at this moment. He just wants to speak with you alone, that much is painfully obvious. “Can you give us a minute?” He doesn’t wait for a response, just stands up from his seat, motioning for you to follow him.

Nervous about what’s about to ensue, you do so regardless, following him up the stairs and into the first room on the right.

You start to plead your case as soon as the door is closed. “Joe—”

“You lied to me.”

His tone kills you. You haven’t been on the receiving end of this side of him in months, not since he first found out about Callie. “I—”

“I fucking asked you did she say anything, and you lied to me, Y/N!”

“I didn’t think anything of it, Joe.” You can’t and won’t necessarily defend the lying part, but you will attempt to help him understand your logic that was at play. “Mariah—she’d never done anything remotely close to any of this to make me think she would ever do something like this. I thought—I thought she was just saying shit to get a reaction out of me.”

He stops his pacing, looking at you with a sense of incredulity. “I didn’t ask you what kind of shit she was saying, I asked you if she said anything at all, and you stood there and you lied to me with a straight face!”

“I’m sorry, okay!” There’s a solid attempt to keep your volume down, well aware Callie is only a few rooms down playing, oblivious to all of this chaos unfolding. “But I was in a really bad place during that time, Joe, okay? I—I didn’t care about….lawyers and lawsuits, I just wanted custody of my child back.” Eyes starting to water, you shake your head, asking, “do you have any idea how hard that was for me?”

“Of course, I know, Y/N.” His tone is a little more calm, still angry though. “I was going through the same damn thing.”

“No, you weren’t!” As much as you want to control your emotions in this moment, control your temper, it’s hard when he’s clearly not trying to hear where you were coming from. “You got to see her! You got to speak to her! I didn’t! Mariah didn’t accuse you of awful shit, it was just me!”

“So you don’t think that shit impacted me at all?” His voice still carries anger, but there’s specks of hurt there. You feel bad, you didn’t mean to invalidate him, just wanted to help him see there was a difference. “Seeing you like that? Seeing Callie like that?”

Pressing your hands against your temple, you shut your eyes, explaining, “that’s not what I’m saying, Joe. You’re not listening to me.”

“You’re right.” His agreement takes you by surprise. You didn’t expect him to be so self-aware. “I’m not listening cuz’ I’m fucking pissed off with you that this all could have been avoided if you had just been honest with me. Our daughter’s photos wouldn’t be all over the fucking internet if you had just told me the truth.”

It’s not hard for you to read between the lines of what he’s saying. But, it is hard for you to stomach what he’s saying. “You blame me for this, don’t you?” And it’s when he looks away, nostrils flared and jaw clenched. “You do….”

“I didn’t for the DCFS situation, because that was absolutely beyond your control. But this…..” He looks up at the ceiling, eyes closed, most likely trying to maintain composure. “I’m gonna go over to Jey and Kaylah’s place for a little bit. I just need to clear my head.”

Your throat constricts. Joe has never been the one to leave in the middle of an argument. He’s that one to always say we’re gonna stay here and figure this out together, so you don’t know what to make of him wanting to leave.

“Joe, please….” Walking over to him, you place your hands on his chest, forcing him to look at you. “Don’t go, okay? We just—we need to work this out right now.”

“I love you, Y/N. I love you too much to stay here and have this out with you right now, because there’s not many nice things I have to say.”

There’s a shred of hope that fills you in the way he cups your cheek, staring at you for a minute before he turns to walk out of the door. But the hope is easily dashed at the fact that he still chooses to walk out the door.

Sniffling, feeling the tears oncoming, you walk out after him only to see he’s already completely descended down the stairs, already out the house most likely. Standing there, you try to keep the tears at bay, try to keep your shit together.

“Mommy….”

“What, Callie!” The second it leaves your voice, the harshness, the volume, the cruelness, you want to melt into the ground. Callie, understandably, looks devastated at you snapping at her. And you feel it too. “Baby, I’m—I’m so sorry—”

She doesn’t give you a chance to grovel because she turns on the heel of her shoes and darts back into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Your chest tightening, the tears starting to fall. It hits you so hard.

You really fucked up.

—-------

“You ready to talk yet?”

Joe knew the second he walked into his cousin’s house, grabbed a beer out the fridge and plopped himself on the steps of their back porch that he didn’t come over here to vent. He just needed to get away, to clear and sort through his head so he didn’t end up saying anything worse than what he’s already said to Y/N.

And Kaylah recognized as such. Recognized something must have happened, which is why she allowed him his privacy for the time being.

“Not really,” he answers, finishing off his beer and tossing it to his side.

“Too bad,” Kaylah dismisses. It’s not a major surprise. “Cause I am.” Joe says nothing as she slides down on the step, sitting beside him. When he still says nothing, “what happened, Joe?”

Joe chuckles bitterly. “Check the news. Any of them.”

Kaylah frowns. “You know that’s not what I mean.” She’s very well aware of that part of this shitshow. “What happened with you and Y/N?”

“She lied to me, Kay.” Joe really doesn’t want to talk about this, but he knows he needs to. Knows he eventually has to go back home and face the music. “I had asked her if Mariah had said anything, not even anything bad, just anything in general. She told me no, but that wasn’t the truth, Mariah was sending all kinds of messages alluding to doing something if Y/N didn’t answer her…..now look at what’s happened.”

Kaylah takes a second to digest what he’s saying. “When did you ask her?”

“When the whole DCFS situation happened. My lawyers were trying to see if we could build some type of case against Mariah.”

Kaylah is smart, always has been, so it’s not difficult for her to put the pieces together. “And you think if she had provided these messages, you could have done something to avoid this latest shitshow?” Joe doesn’t have to answer her question. She already knows his answer. “That’s a big if, Joe, and you know it.”

“Of course, I know it. It’s just…….fuck.” He shuts his eyes, head titled back. “It’s like shit just keeps happening.”

“It’s rough, I can imagine that, but it’s not just rough for you. Y/N is going through the same thing, and instead of sitting here in your misery, blaming her, you two should be handling it together.” Kaylah lifts her finger to silence him when he goes to either agree or protest. “I’m not saying she wasn’t wrong for not telling you the truth, but Joe, we both know that if she had even an inkling that Mariah would do something like this, she would have told you in a heartbeat.” Her voice softens. “She made a mistake.”

“And I know Mariah has put your business out there too now, and I don’t mean to make it seem like this doesn’t impact you as well, but Y/N is the one being dragged to filth on the internet right now. I sincerely hope she hasn’t read some of the stuff being said about her. It’s awful. Mariah lied about so many things and has made Y/N out to be this horrible person when she’s not.”

Joe thinks that’s the part that pisses him off the most, that made him so angry he unintentionally took that anger out on the person being affected the most in this situation. He watched the entire interview Mariah did, heard the way she took parts of the truth and piled a shit ton of lies on top.

Heard how actually had the fucking audacity to drag Jadah into it, claiming she had texts and recorded phone calls between the two of them talking about how Y/N was a whore and broke up her marriage. All kind of just lies.

And he knows it’s not true, because he knows Jadah. Hell, he spoke to Jadah just this morning.

It infuriated him even more to read some of the comments, people speaking so cruelly about the woman he loves. Even going as far to drag Callie into the cesspool of bullying.

A man who doesn’t like not having control, it tears him up to not be able to do anything to dead the shit immediately.

But…..there are some things he can do, and he can’t do them if he’s sitting here in his feelings.

Joe looks over at Kaylah, gently shoving into her side. “Thank you, Kay.”

“Anytime.” And she means it. Joe is like a brother to her. Always has been. “Now you’ve got twenty minutes to get your sorry ass off my porch and back to your house to take care of business. Cause I know you, Joe. You don’t play about your family. Let that bitch know she’s fucked with the wrong one.”

—-------

“Mama, I really messed up.”

Crying over the phone to your mom at your big age definitely wasn’t in your bingo card for 2024, yet here you are.

Granted, most of what’s happened this year wasn’t in your bingo card anyway, so it lines up.

“Oh, honey. You made a mistake, You’re human. It happens.” Your mom’s voice is soothing on the other side of the phone. “And don’t worry about Joseph. He’s just upset right now. He’ll calm down.”

“He’s right to be upset. I shouldn’t have lied to him.” Sniffling and wiping at your eyes, you bring your legs to your chest. “And look at what my mistake has caused mama. My baby’s face is all over the internet. Personal photos just material for people to make posts and tweets and TikTok’s about.”

It makes you sick to your stomach to think of how low Mariah has gotten in this whole situation. All of those snaps you shared with her of your daughter, precious moments you thought you were sharing with your best friend, she’d sold to whoever would buy them for 15 minutes of fame and a slice of short-lived relevancy.

“None of us knew that girl is as unhinged as she is. You’re not psychic, baby. You had no way of knowing this would happen, and Joseph knows that. He just let his pride get the best of him and took out his frustrations on you, which, make no mistake, is not right. And you definitely need to check him on that.” Your mom briefly switching gears brings a smile and small laugh to your face. “You know I didn’t raise you to take shit from no man, and that includes him.”

“I know….” And you will address it with him, even if deep down something tells you he already feels bad for how he spoke to you, knowing it was wrong. “I just—-I feel like we can’t catch a break. It sometimes makes me wonder if…..if I’m doing the right thing.” The past 24 hours have caused you to experience such a whirlwind of emotions, emotions you’re sure are exacerbated by a pregnancy no one knows about yet. “I would never stop Joe from being in Callie’s life, but if me being with him causes all this mess for him and her then….”

“Don’t do that. Don’t you dare do that.” Your mom’s interjection is fierce and sharp. “That boy loves you. He’d do anything for you and baby girl. Don’t let Mariah trick you into thinking that somehow you being happy with the man you love and father of your child is somehow wrong. Don’t let her win.”

Blowing out a breath, you try to heed to your mom’s guidance. She’s right. You know she’s right. Mariah being psychotic doesn’t change shit about your love for Joe, his love for you, the way he’d do anything for ya’ll and vice versa.

Mariah is just jealous. Dissolving what is otherwise a happy family would bring her nothing but great satisfaction. And over your dead body will you let that bitch get what she wants.

“You’re right.” Shaking your head, you try to counter all of your negative and anxious thoughts with more optimism and logic. “It’s just….it’s hard right now.”

“And it will be for a little while, but that’s when you lean on the people you love, and baby, you got no shortage of that.”

Sniffling, tears drying, you thank her, “thank you, mama.”

“Just let me know if you need me to fly down there.” And you know she will. Know Joe won’t hesitate to pay for a plane ticket for her to come stay with you.

And after you tell him about your pregnancy, you might do just that.

“I will,” you promise, telling her you’ll call or text her later to let her know how everything pans out before ending the call.

Stepping back into the kitchen and sliding the door closed, locking it, the last thing you expect to see is Joe standing in the kitchen.

Gasping, hand over your chest, your shoulders slump as you murmur, “you scared me.”

“I’m sorry.” It’s a layered statement, multiple meanings and several different applications. A knowledge that comes from being with and knowing this man for all these years.

Walking over to him, you cross your arms over one another. “I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

He shakes his head. “Didn’t give me an excuse to talk to you the way I did or to say the things I did.” And as strange a thought it may be to have in this moment, this is one of the many reasons you love the man before you. Joe is mature and man enough to both admit when he’s fucked up and is always intentional about making it right.

Swallowing, you advise, “this is just a really fucked up situation that neither of us really knows how to process.” Ain’t that the fucking truth. “But, we can handle it…together.”

He gently pulls you into his chest and your eyes shut as he holds you, apologizing into the top of your head.

“I’m sorry too.” you apologize, hand on his chest. “I know that situation was difficult for you too, and I shouldn’t have invalidated your feelings.”

“Neither of us was 100% right.” And he’s correct. He was wrong for lashing out the way he did, and you were wrong for not being honest and invalidating his experience.

Neither of you could pull the ‘right’ card.

“Agreed.” You murmur, eyes softening as you switch topics a bit. “Callie….I accidentally snapped at her after you left.” The guilt still eats at you for that, for taking out your emotions on your sweet little girl. “I spoke with her and apologized, but….I think she heard us fighting.”

That really kills you. You don’t think it’s entirely unhealthy for kids to hear their parents go at it from time to time, but not at 4. And not for a sensitive child like Callie.

Joe looks equally upset at this, offering, “let me talk to her. If she heard us, she needs to know that me yelling at you wasn’t okay.”

There’s no disagreement nor protest as he heads up the stairs to find Callie.

Joe stands outside Callie’s door with a knock that’s followed by her head snapping up and smile brightening. “Daddy!” She rushes over to him, Joe leaning to pick her up, holding her. “You came back!”

Her words crush him, the idea that she could even think he could ever leave her, leave either of them.

“Of course, baby girl.” Joe moves to the only adult sized chair in her room, holding her on his lap, caressing her cheek. “Callie, I know you heard me and your mom arguing, but I need you to know that I will never leave you or mommy. Daddy was just….very upset, and I took it out on your mom which was wrong.”

In a soft voice, she asks, “did mommy do something bad?”

“No, she just….made a mistake, and that’s okay, because we all make mistakes, but it wasn’t okay for me to yell at her like that.” Joe decides to take this unfortunate occurrence and make it a learning lesson for his daughter. “You never let any lil’ boy yell at you or talk mean to you, you hear me?” Callie nods her head, as he adds. “And if he does, let me know, and I’ll take care of it.”

Callie turns up her nose. “Boys are gross.” She then adds, “cept' you, daddy.”

Joe laughs but quickly agrees. Let her think that as long as she wants. Forever, preferably. He tugs her a bit closer, holding her snug to him. “That’s right. All of em’. Every single one.”

—-------

Given only a few rooms in the house are fully furnished, the three of you sleep and stay at Joe’s place at night given he doesn’t plan to sell it until you’re all completely moved in. Not feeling like cooking, or rather not feeling like helping Joe cook, you decide on takeout.

Subsequently, ya'll share dinner while watching Finding Nemo 2, the chosen movie of the night by Callie.

There’s extra measures on your end to make sure she’s really forgiven you, needing her to know that you’re truly apologetic, and of course, your inherently kind child shows absolutely no sign that she holds any type of grudge against you.

You couldn’t be any more grateful for her wonderfully big heart.

You handle getting her to bed, seeing that Joe is tired. It’s something you noticed the minute he arrived at the new house from the airport. He looks exhausted. How can he not be? Preparing for WrestleMania, training nonstop, finishing up his documentary, and now this?

A person can only take so much.

You’re actually happy he’ll have a week off post WrestleMania. He needs that. He needs time to just rest.

It doesn’t surprise you that he falls asleep in a matter of minutes, big body laid out over yours as you gently caress his naked back. His heavy shoulders lifting in alignment with his breathing is a soothing source you zone in on while scrolling aimlessly on your phone. Pinterest only. You can’t allow yourself to check out anything else.

That is until you receive a text from Alexis telling you to check Joe’s Instagram.

For a second, you consider ignoring it, but curiosity gets the best of you.

Logging back into the app, you go straight to his profile, gasping when you see the latest post on the grid.

It’s a photo of the three of you. One of the ones taken when you’d surprised him at his show back in February. He’s holding Callie who has her arms wrapped around his neck, smiling big at the camera with his other arm hooked around you, your body angled into him, hand on his chest.

It’s one of your favorite photos.

Your eyes drop to his lengthy caption.

@/RomanReigns: I’ve never been one to openly discuss my personal life because, quite frankly, it’s no one’s business. Unfortunately, I’m now forced to do so due to a clearly unwell and pathetic individual who has taken parts of the truth and padded it with lies. My girlfriend and I share one child together. This is my biological child. There’s never been a question of paternity. Her mother never coerced or blackmailed me into shit. Y/N has been villainized as a vindictive gold-digger and liar when that is absolutely bullshit. She is an amazing mother, friend, and partner whom I love fiercely and protectively. The same goes for my daughter. They are my world, and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to protect them. Having our daughter’s photos and personal videos posted all over the internet has been equally heartbreaking as it is infuriating for the both of us. Legal action is currently being pursued for all involved in the doxing and sharing of personal media of my family as well as other atrocities that have taken place behind the scenes you all don’t even know about. All of this is entirely unacceptable and will be dealt with to the fullest extent of the law. And to everyone who has so much to say about a situation you know nothing about outside of the lies circulating, remember these are real people with real feelings.

But most importantly, keep my girlfriend and daughter’s name out of your fucking mouths.

~Joe

Tears are starting to burn your eyes as you stare down at the man sleeping on top of you. The man who never ceases to amaze you with how far he’ll go to show you just how much he loves and cares about you.

He didn’t have to do this, didn’t have to go against his preference to keep his personal life off the internet. But, he did. He did it to send a message to everyone.

To send a message to Mariah.

You press a gentle kiss against the top of his head, knowing doing so won’t disturb his sleep.

And though against your better judgment, decide to read a few comments, knowing it’s bound to be a batch of mixed reactions.

@/User1: Damn, Roman said keep my wife’s name out your fucking mouth! Watch Will Smith join the match at WrestleMania.

@/User2: Used to be a big fan, but I could never support a cheater. Unfollowing.

@/User3: How many of you actually watched the interview with the “friend”? It’s obvious she’s lying about a lot of things she said, because most of it wasn’t adding up.

@/User4: My thing is why did you hide this kid and girlfriend you supposedly “love” so much? Feels like you got exposed and now you’re trying to save face.

@/User5: This is all so messy and shameful. He definitely needs to lose his title at WM. What a joke and embarrassment to the WWE.

@/User6: It’s funny how so many of you are ignoring the fact that he signed this with his real name. “Roman” is a real person clearly going through heavy shit right now. Who cares about a fucking title?

@/User7: How about you learn to “acknowledge” the truth, Mr. “tribal chief”?

@/UceyJucey: Man, this family right here. We go you, Y/N and Big Dog. For life!

@/BigLexPurr: Ya’ll gon see JOE don’t play about HIS!

@/JonathanFatu: FOE

@/RomanReigns has turned off comments for this post.

The comments are to be expected, though it warms you to see familiar names coming to your defense, seeing that while there may be a lot of hatred being spewed your way, there’s still an abundance of love and support that encompasses you.

But, it’s when you come across a reference to the Bloodline that an idea hits you, smashes into you so strongly that you have to wake Joe to get the ball rolling.

“Baby.” He’s knocked out, so it takes a couple of shakes and slaps to finally get him to stir. “Joe!”

Finally, he stirs, sighing loudly as he groans, “fine, you getting on top though.”

Rolling your eyes, you shove his shoulder. “Not that. Can I use one of your cars tomorrow morning? And I need you to stay and watch Callie for a bit.”

At this, he opens his eyes, looking you over with confusion. “Where you going?”

“It’s a surprise. Just….trust me, okay?” Leaning to kiss his cheek, you throw out a quick ‘thank you’ and turn back on your side. Only to squeal quietly when his big hands move you onto your back. One look at him, and you know what he wants. “Joe, it’s like 3 o’clock in the morning.”

“Should have thought about that before you woke me up….” His mouth is on your neck, right hand moving under his shirt that hides your nude body, gripping your breast. “Let me just taste you….”

There’s a strong desire and almost responsibility you feel to press your legs together and direct him to go back to sleep, but raging, most likely pregnancy fueled hormones, along with the fact that you want to enjoy this for as long as you can before pregnancy body stops all sexual acts, are just too damn strong.

So you simply chew on your bottom lip, watching his dark silky head disappear under the covers and enjoy the toe curling ride of fantasy that is his skilled tongue on you.

—-------

You’re out of the house by 7am sharp, the sun still making its way to introduce the new day, but that doesn't matter.

You’re a woman on a mission, a mission that has a ticking deadline. Joe has to fly back out tomorrow, so you can’t waste one precious moment.

Target has almost everything you need, sans a couple of items that you pick up at Walmart.

And Alexis, who finally calmed down enough after getting drunk as hell and hooking up with some random she met on the boardwalk, agreed to keep Callie for you for a little bit. It’s a double win, because Callie always has a good time with Alexis, and Alexis can’t catch a murder charge if she’s on babysitting duty.

Of course, Joe being Joe, has a million and one questions. Understandably so.

“Can you at least tell me why you had Alexis come get Callie?” And before you can give him the vaguest answer, he adds on, “or what the hell is in those boxes?”

His question comes from behind as you carry said cake boxes up the steps, reaching the top and offering him a teasing glare. “And you always say I suck at surprises.”

“I’m too old for surprises, baby.”

Baby…..

God, you can’t wait to see his reaction.

“Patience, lover. Patience.” You then gesture with your chin to the first door with a sticky note on it. “Open that one.”

Joe looks taken back, reading the post-it. “Option 1? Option 1 for what?”

This man….. “I see where Callie gets her questioning nature from. Boy, just open the damn door.”

He rolls his eyes, walking in and looking around. “There’s literally nothing in this room.”

“Yet,” you correct, encouraging him. “Just….be mindful of the layout and what it could be.”

“It can’t be anything considering it’s empty as hell.”

“Joe, I swear to—” You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “Come on. Let’s look at the other ones.”

And you have him do just that, viewing two more rooms that he doesn’t realize you’ve shortlisted as potential nurseries. He makes his smartass comments, of course, but you also know it’s in jest and he really just wants to know what’s going on.

So, it’s when you finish and bring him back to the kitchen, directing him to sit on the barstool as you lay out the two boxes in front of him. “You gon tell me why you had me look at empty rooms while you carried boxes?”

“Stop being difficult.” Slapping him on the shoulder, your nerves begin to set in as you motion to the counter. “Pick one to open. Only one.”

Joe’s curious gaze is on you, humor dropping a bit as he asks, in all seriousness. “Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Just…..trust me.” It’s a simple but powerful thing to say given the past couple days. You know he does and know he will. “Pick one.”

Waiting for him to carefully pull the tape off to open the box, you time it perfectly so at the same time he’s lifting the lid, you murmur, “I think it’s a boy too…..”

Joe’s gaze snaps to yours at your statement but also refers back to the now open box. “Y/N….what is this?”

Eyes starting to water, you manage to tease him, “don’t tell me the Tribal Chief suddenly doesn’t know how to read.”

There’s a close and careful watch you have on Joe as his eyes go from left to right, clearly reading the words you have beautifully decorated on the inside of the cake box that’s filled with freshly baked chocolate chip cookies dyed blue with food coloring.

The other box is filled with chocolate chip cookies dyed pink.

Same message located on the lid of the box.

BREAKING NEWS:

New Bloodline Member Coming Soon. Ready to acknowledge daddy in September, 2024.

He does that one, two, three times before slowly looking back up at you, a level of emotion in his gaze and eyes you’re not sure you’ve ever seen.

His voice is so low, so imbued with vulnerability that you almost have to ask him to repeat himself. “You serious?”

Shaking your head, you reach out, pushing back some of his hair. “I wouldn't lie to you about this, Leati…….” Taking his hand and placing it on your stomach, you layer your own on top of his. “I’m pregnant…..we’re having another baby.” Sniffling, tears finally starting to spill, you add, “and no one knows but you and me. Not my mom. Not Alexis. Not Callie. Just you and me.” Licking your lips, you acknowledge. “I didn’t do it right the first time, but I’m gonna do everything right this time.”

Joe not saying anything initially makes you second guess yourself. Were you wrong to assume that he would be happy? Given everything that’s happened, has it changed his views on things? You thought that he would be thrilled at the idea of expanding your family, but what if you were wrong?

It’s only seconds later though that he shoots up from the chair, wrapping his strong arms around you, holding you maybe tighter than what’s necessary.

All concern is washed away, a happy giggle leaving your mouth as he spins you around.

Back on the ground, his hands on your face. “I love you.” His thumbs brush over the apples of your cheek. You swear his eyes are glazed over with unshed tears. “I love you with everything in me.”

“I love you too,” you murmur, choked up and moved by his reaction. He's thrilled. “And I know things are a mess right now, but I couldn’t miss this opportunity to tell you while you’re in town.”

Everything is certainly not the way it should be, but for him to be here, to be with you, and for you to not tell him felt so wrong. You didn't want to make him wait any longer than he needed to.

“September…..” You can see he’s doing the math in his head, hand dropping to your stomach. “You’re three months?”

“Just about. End of March will mark officially three months, but I just found out at the OB-GYN appointment I had. I wanted to tell you right away, but I also wanted to do it in person, because you deserve as much.” You find yourself rambling, probably over-explaining, but the last thing you want is for him to think you’ve been keeping this from him. “It’s up to you, but I do think we should tell Callie first.”

You've thought about it, and to some extent, you have some concern about how she’ll respond. She’s been an only child her whole life, obviously. And she already doesn’t like ‘sharing’ Joe with you sometimes, how will she respond to a brother or sister?

Joe must be reading your mind as he kisses your forehead. “We’ll figure it out.” Another realization also crosses his mind as he connects more dots. “The rooms…..you think one of them could be the nursery.”

Playfully rolling your eyes, you tease him. “Well, it took you long enough to put two and two together.” Yelping, you laugh when Joe squeezes your hip and picks you up, bridal style. “Joe!”

“Let’s go look again,” he implores, and you know it’s because he wants to go again because now he knows this will be the room where your baby will stay in, the room where you’ll nurse him or her, where he’ll finally be able to enjoy being a father from conception to birth.

It makes this moment even better.

But, you need something else.

You call for him to wait, pointing to the box of cookies. “What?” You ask after he moves close enough for you to grab them. Rubbing your belly, you remind him with all the pride in the world, “mama’s eating for two now.”

—-------

The day is perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

It’s a day where you can temporarily forget all of the bullshit in your life that doesn’t matter in these moments where it’s just the three of you.

Well, four, technically.

The day is spent shopping, of all things, Joe refusing to leave without you finally getting a bedroom set. The one, ironically, that Alexis pointed out the other day. It really does look like the both of you.

He also might have made a sly comment regarding making good use of the mirror.....

On top of that, you start to casually peruse nursery furniture, nothing too obvious to where Callie can tell. You and Joe haven’t settled on when or how to tell her, but you’re leaning more toward after WrestleMania. He’ll be off that week, so it gives you both time to tackle any big emotions that might come up.

And Joe….

It deeply endears you to notice the little things. He’s always been touchy feely, but his hand seemed to find a space on or near your stomach all day. Gentle kisses pressed against your temple and more “I love you’s” than usual. You know it’s all because he’s wholly and fully happy. This pregnancy means more to him than you could probably ever comprehend.

And being able to make him so happy when he’s made you happier means everything to you.

Even laying in bed together, enjoying your time with each other before he has to leave early in the morning, his big hand is splayed protectively across your stomach. You appreciate all of these moments, know that the next almost six months of your pregnancy will be filled with them.

Even with some dread at trying to navigate this pregnancy with Joe’s crazy work schedule, you’re more happy than anything. Ecstatic that you get to experience this pregnancy with him this time around.

Together.

Sleep is finally about to overcome you when your phone dings on your nightstand. Tempted to leave it, it’s hard to do so when it vibrates several different times.

Not knowing if it could be something serious or requiring immediate attention, you reach over, unlocking to see you have five texts from an unknown number.

But, the sender is no longer unknown the moment you open the thread.

Unknown: Hi, Y/N. This is Jadah.

This…..this has to be a joke, has to be some kind of cruel prank that’s all a part of Mariah’s apparent master plan to ruin your life.

Because there’s no way in hell Joe’s ex-wife is texting you. No way in hell.

But before you can block the number, chalking it up as a cruel prank, you see she’s sent a screenshot of a conversation between her and Joe. Zooming in, you see it’s from around October with them discussing the details of the divorce.

Holy…..shit.

It is her.

Jadah: Just so you know it’s really me…..

And if you weren’t already about to drop your damn phone onto Joe’s head at the fact that thee fucking Jadah is actually texting you right now, her next set of messages nearly send you into cardiac arrest.

Jadah: Super strange/inconvenient way for me to reach out, but given everything that’s going on, I think it’s time we met and talked face to face.

Jadah: Even more, since this hoe got so much to say about OUR lives, I also think it’s time we take back the narrative and pull an Uno reverse card.

Jadah: How do you feel about going on IG Live together?

#roman reigns x black!reader #roman reigns fic #roman reigns x black!oc #roman reigns #arisnotebook

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dreamywriter143 · 2 years ago

Text

Precious Tsyeym

Genre : Fluff, Insecure Reader, NSFW/MDNI.

Status: 2/2 ( 2 part one-shot)

Parings : Neteyam X Reader,

Warnings: Insecure Reader, Soft Neteyam, Simp Neteyam, Loss of Virginity, P in V (Penetration), Oral (F-receiving), Belly bulge, Mentions of blood (very little),Nicknames, Marking, All characters are AGED-UP (19-20’s years).

Summary: Life couldn't get anymore prefect in Y/n's eyes. Being mated before Eywa, Y/n has been on cloud 9 out of pure happiness. She just cant figure out why her mate, Neteyam, hasn't mated with her yet. And she is on a mission to find out why.

Word count: 4.5k

A/N: I'm sorry this came out late! Work has been tough on me but i managed. Anyway, I hope I did ya'll justice! I'm still pretty new to writing smut so please excuse my poor writing!!

___________________________________________________________

“My love” Neteyam hums softly into the kiss. His hands held Y/n firmly against him, as he hovered over her. All the while making sure not to break the kiss. Y/n suppresses a moan feeling Neteyam’s tongue slide against hers so deliciously.

“Y/n'' Neteyam mumbles against her swollen lips, reluctantly pulling himself away from her. He drank in her appearance as she laid before him. Her skin flushed purple from their intense make out session with her legs still haphazardly wrapped around him.

The strap on her top has wiggled down her shoulder blade, her hair a mess as she panted to catch her breath. Her swollen lips pucker, with remembrance of his saliva coating them. And her eyes heavily lidded and brimming with desire. Her pupils were blown so wide you could barely see her e/c irises. She looked delectable. And Neteyam couldn’t wait to get a taste.

“Yes?” She hums back, her eyes tracing down to his lips. Desperately wanting to reattach them again. Neteyam lets out a throaty chuckle, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Even his featherlight touches seem to ignite a fire deep within her, traveling all the way down to her throbbing cunt. She felt herself get wetter by the minute, her poor loincloth soaking up her essence.

She desperately wanted to rub her legs, the itch she couldn’t reach starting to bother her. But she very much liked the position she was in. Laying down with her mate peering down at her hungrily. She relished at the feeling of having him wrapped around her legs, feeling his lower abdomen press against hers.

Despite having her under him, having her so close and being able to smell her arousal. Neteyam still wanted to make things clear, he wanted his mate to be comfortable and ready. A little part of him was scared of hurting her since it was her first time.

“Are you sure you want this yawne?” He asks, his voice strained.

He used up all his willpower to hold himself back. His body called for her, craved for her. It sensed her arousal and was ready to pounce at any moment. Take what he had longed for the moment they mated before Ewya.

“Of course Ma’Neteyam. I’ve wanted this for so long. You are mine, and I am yours. I’m ready” Y/n reached up to stroke her mate's cheek lovingly.

This was not just an act of lust, but an act of love. They were crossing that huge step into their future. And they were doing it together. It wasn’t just mindless sex, it was passionate and filled with longing. She wanted to be with him, be one with him.

Neteyam closes his eyes, leaning into her hand that feels so warm. He deeply inhaled, drinking in her scent. He felt his body twitch at her sweet scent, which only caused a deep rumble to vibrate through him.

“I can smell your arousal Y/n '' Neteyam sighs out.

His eyes snap open to see her bite her lips in embarrassment. He smirks before taking the hand against his cheeks. He places a delicate kiss along her palm as he slowly traces down her hand. He then takes her hand into his, interlocking their fingers.

Neteyam then peppers her necks with tiny kisses causing her breathing to falter at the feeling. Feeling her tremble under him only ignited his own desire to satisfy her. Neteyam finds her pressure point, sucking on the skin.

“You smell so sweet….you taste so sweet, my love” Neteyam moans into her neck, his tongue swiping along the skin he had abused. Y/n is unable to hold back her sounds as a moan slips through. She immediately goes to cover her mouth with her free hand but Neteyam stops her. His face lifted to meet her eyes.

“Don’t” he warns, the tone sending electricity straight through the girl.

“Let me hear your moans, I want to know how good I make you feel” Neteyam whispers, his fingers tracing her skin.

He felt her shiver under his touch, nodding at his words. She bit her lips nervously as she felt Neteyam’s finger touch her top. His warm finger traces over the carefully woven material admiring the intricate detailing. His finger brushes over her breast, sliding against her nipple. Y/n takes a sharp intake at the feeling that shot through her.

“Can I take these off sweetheart?” Neteyam asks sweetly, his eyes looking into hers for any hesitancy. The nonverbal response was all he needed as he worked his way through the top. Easily sliding off the garment and letting it slump onto the floor.

His eyes widened momentarily at the sight, her breasts out on display. His eyes drank in the sight of her perked nipples, exposed to the cool air around them. Feeling rather embarrassed Y/n tried to cover herself up only for Neteyam to stop her yet again. With a growl of warning.

“Don’t cover yourself, your beautiful love” he assures moving himself down. He watches the goosebumps litter her skin as he gently grabs one breast, fondling it. Y/n mewls at the new sensation, her body responding with force.

Neteyam couldn’t help but lean down and wrap his lips around one of her peaked buds as he sank his teeth against the sensitive skin, causing Y/n’s body to jolt up slightly.

“Ne-teyam!” She squeals, her head pushing into the mat beneath her. Her back arches at the sensation which only helped Neteyam divulge deeper, sucking that much harder as his tongue twirled against her nipple with desire.

“Shit Y/n, you taste so good. I can't imagine how delicious your pussy will taste” Neteyam mummers against her breast, giving the same attention to the other neglected nipple.

Y/n sucks in her breath, the vulgar words that left her mates mouth only turned her on more. She feels an unfamiliar knot within her coil, her body twitching uncontrollably under Neteyams' ministrations.

“Neteyam! S-something is-”

Neteyam smirks, his cock painfully pressing against his own loincloth at her squeals of ecstasy. He unconsciously bucks himself against the mat for some friction, his mouth continuously working over her bud.

“It’s ok love, let it wash over you” Neteyam assures, fondling her breasts and increasing in speed.

Y/n arches her back a loud whine leaving her lips as her body convulses under the weight of her first orgasm. She didn't know orgasms felt this great, her eyes fluttering at the feeling. Neteyam smirks at himself, proud to pull an orgasm out of he without out even touching her properly. Neteyanm detaches his lips, filled with his own drool with a popping sound.

Neteyam hastily traces kisses down her chest and down to her abdomen. He glances up at Y/n for permission, tugging at the loincloth. Y/n moans in response causing Neteyam to smile at how she melted under his touch.

Neteyam’s hands were soft as they slid up her thighs, tugging at the garment. Y/n lifted her hips slightly to assist him as he slowly tugged them off- savoring the moment as much as she was. Neteyam stares at the soaked loincloth, his eyes hungrily tracing over the wet patch, he brings the scrunched up loincloth to his nose inhaling deeply. He curses under his breath tossing the cloth aside, eager to find the source of the intoxicating scent.

Y/n spreads her legs, not feeling the strength in herself to keep them wrapped around his hips. Neteyam hums in appreciation as his hands slide up her thighs reassuringly. He stares at her sopping pussy that glistened with her essence. It looked heavenly and delectable.

Neteyam leans down his eyes staring into the sight before him as if it were the most beautiful thing he had ever laid eyes on. Like he was mesmerized, like he was hungry and only Y/n could satisfy him. Y/n couldn’t help but laugh nervously as he took her in, in all her glory.

“S’beautiful. So, so so pretty, such a pretty girl.” he babbled, raising her legs to rest over his shoulders as he peppered kisses into her inner thigh.

His cock twitched against his loincloth when he laid his eyes on her bare pussy. He gawked in awe at the pretty pink folds swollen and glistening with her arousal, he was almost drooling when he snapped himself out of his trance once again.

“I’ve been wondering how you taste down here, love” he spoke before grabbing her thighs, pulling her further to his mouth.

Y/n whimpers at the feeling of his breath against her bare pussy. Y/n opens her mouth to argue against the fact he was so close to her cunt. But her mouth immediately clamps shut as Neteyam attached his warm muscle against her.

The first lick was experimental, a quick swipe of his tongue across her folds, separating them which made her whimper. His ears twitch with excitement at the sound. His eyes fluttered shut as he explored Y/n, flicking and suckling as his confidence built from her reactions.

“Fuck, you smelled so good.Taste even better, though.” Neteyam gasps in between licks, pressing his face deeping to her cunt.

His tongue plunges deep inside Y/n, his nose coming in contact with her throbbing clit. Y/n’s entire body jolts at the sensation, his tongue working miracles inside her. Y/n hands fell on his black locks, pulling occasionally. She felt that familiar coil and she didn't want Neteyam to let go. He moaned into Y/n as he felt her nails rake across his scalp. The vibrations caused Y/n to gasp and buck her hips into him chasing her high.

“That's it, come undone for me princess”

Y/n moans out, her fingers tightening as her orgasm washes over her once again. Her legs stutter against Neteyam’s shoulders as he licks her through her second orgasm. He lap up her juices like a starved man. Unable to get enough.

Neteyam pulls back, his entire mouth and chin covered in her cum. He sheepishly smiles, his eyes lidded as he watches the last bit of her orgasm twitch through her. Y/n mumbles incoherently at the feeling.

Netyeam quickly discards his loincloth, releasing his cock that begged to be free. He sighs at the feeling of the cool air, his hand reaching down to spread his pre cum over his large shaft. He pumped a few strokes along his length, waiting for Y/n to regain proper consciousness. Neteyam leans down, his finger swiping against her wet folds. Y/n gasps at the sensation, eyes snapping open at the feeling.

He pressed his thumb against her clit just as his long finger entered inside her warm pussy. He focused on the spot that had caused Y/n to make noise and rubbed small fast circles against her clit, all while making sure to thrust his finger deep inside. Stretching her walls.

“S-hit Neteyam!” Y/n squeals as his finger grazes her sweet spot. Her toes curl at the sensation, her eyes closing shut at the feeling.

Neteyam takes the opportunity to insert another finger, scissoring her in the process. Her juices made it easy to insert the two digits with ease. The pleasure overrides the stinging sensation with the second intrusion. Neteyam bent down to replace his thumb with his lips and sucked hard along her clit. All while gathering her wetness before plunging the digits back inside.

His tongue lapped at Y/n’s clit as he carried on working his fingers inside of her. Her back arched off the mat as she felt the heat of her impending orgasm build faster and faster. Neteyam could tell she was getting close, the way she was grinding herself against his face had him thrusting his own hips against his mat.

Y/n cried out as her hips writhed against his face, Neteyam tightened the grip he had on one of her thighs to hold her down. He didn’t relax his strokes until she was a trembling, mewling mess, weakly pulling at his hair as she became overstimulated.

He kept on sucking her swollen clit, a finger sliding inside her all the up to the last knuckle. Y/n shakes her head at the unfamiliar feeling.

“Netey-am, Sto-“ she mewls pathetically, unable to catch her breath

“-Feels like I’m gonna pee-” Y/n gasped when a new wave of pleasure washed over her.

She tried to push Neteyam off of her but he held her down, tongue fucking her through her orgasm. Y/n’s walls burst, squirting all over her mate's face.

Neteyam’s eyes widened as he immediately pressed his tongue flat against her entrance, collecting all her sweet juices, slurping her dry.

“Fuck, Oh my Ewya, that was hot” he pulled away panting, his chin shiny with her slick.

“Mmmm, you did so good my love.-” he kissed her inner thigh before climbing back up to her. His eyes were completely blown wide with lust.

“You taste so fucking good”

Neteyam retracts his fingers. The loss of the fingers causes Y/n to whine, her hips bucking into the air for the feeling of fullness again. Neteyam chuckles, licking his lips. He groans at the delicious taste, lapping up what was left on his lips. He leans down, capturing Y/n’s unsuspecting lips as they mold their tongues together. Y/n tastes herself against him, her eyes shutting at the feeling. Neteyam’s cock lays against her, his angry red tip twitching for attention.

“Are you ready? Are you sure, my love?” Neteyam asks, pulling away to stare into her eyes.

He was at the edge as it was . He almost came untouched when she had squirted on him. He desperately wished to be inside her. Fucking her like there was no tomorrow. She was stretched, but Neteyam was big. Big and girthy. He knew it would hurt, with her being a virgin.

“M’Please.” was Y/n’s only confirmation, Y/n tries to reach for his throbbing cock that she felt against her heat. She felt how he humped against her slick folds, lubing himself up. Neteyam takes her hand, kissing her knuckles. He takes her pleas as the answer he needed. Neteyam reaches back, taking hold of Y/n’s kuru.

Even in her dazed like state she is able to toss him a look of confusion.

Neteyam smiles softly, reaching back for his kuru as well.

“It’s going to hurt my love. And I do not wish for you to feel the pain alone” he says softly, smiling endearingly as he brings the two braids together. Y/N goes to the object but it falls to deaf ears as they tendrils interlock. Y/n’s eyes immediately roll back at the feeling of becoming one with Neteyam.

She felt his lust and his deep his desire to fuck her. She also felt his love and worry for her. He cared so much for her he held himself back, focusing on her pleasure instead of his. Y/n felt eyes prick with tears, unable to control the overwhelming feeling of pure love transfer from her mate into her.

“Neteyam, I-I see you” she murmurs, pressing her forehead against his. Neteyam smiles, his eyes closing at the feeling. He took in deep breaths memorizing how she felt,how her body felt so light against his, so soft against his toned hard body.

“Please…please fuck me Neteyam” Y/n urges, bucking her hips along his cock. Neteyam hisses at the sudden feeling, placing their connected kuru’s to the side. He reaches down and aligns his cock against her tight hole. They felt electricity surge through both of them in excitement.

Neteyam glances at Y/n one more time as she nods as a form of consent. Neteyam entered Y/n slowly. She gasps loudly, muscles tightening as she claws at his biceps. It was an unfamiliar feeling, intrusive as he moaned softly.

He felt her walls clench against him eagerly. He also felt the pain., the sharp and stinging pain as he slowly pushed himself deeper within her walls.

“Shhhh, M’sorry yawne. J-just relax princess.” he praised as she exhaled, wincing slightly at his size as he stretched her out. He glances down, his eyes widening at the sight of blood. It was very little but noticeable against her beautiful slick blue skin.

“Fuck, Y/n. You're bleeding. Do you wanna stop?” he asks, concerned. Y/n quickly shakes her head. She knew this would happen, as she was prepared for it.

“No, no I’m okay. Just feels weird is all.” She whispered reassuringly, moaning slightly as he filled her even more, a prominent bulge appearing to form on her lower stomach.

“You’re doing so well for me sweetheart, so so well..” he cooed, making the fire in her belly flame that much higher. Neteyam stayed inside Y/n, unwilling to move for a few minutes until he knew she was comfortable. Y/n nails began to declaw from his arm, little crescent moons doting his muscles as her breath filled her lungs easier. Neteyam felt the familiar feeling of pleasure erupt with his mate, the pain subsiding.

“Can I move?” he hums, Y/n nodded eagerly, the feeling of pain morphing into that of pleasure as he shifted.

“Oh fuck-” he moaned, his forehead brushing against Y/n as he rocked his hips, causing her back to arch, chest brushing his.

“You’re so wet princess-so tight-” he gasped as he filled Y/n up to the hilt again, finding a gentle, easy rhythm that sent her to the heavens.

Y/n was mindlessly babbling, no words coming out of her mouth coherent as her eyes rolled back. She felt his entire length thrust into his, the curve of his cock brushing across places that made her see stars.

“I- love-you-Ma-Teyeammm.” Y/n moaned with each thrust, her body jolting along Neteyam’s movements. Y/n felt herself reach her orgasm, her toes curling in delight. The mushroomy tip abusing her g-spot oh so deliciously. It was as if his cock was made to fit perfectly in her cunt.

Neteyam feels her clench along his cock, hearing her thoughts and how she was so close to coming undone once again.

“I love you so, so much, let go yawne. Come for me.,” he whispered.

Y/n’s body following his commands as she felt the coil break, release washing over her as she clamped down on his cock. Y/n squirted shamelessly onto her mate, his abdomen was glistening with her pussy juices. Neteyam made sure to fuck her through her high, even as she tightly gripped down on his cock.

The room was filled with the sound of her pussy squelching and her skin slapping against his. His heavy balls slapping against her ass, aiding to the thrusts each time.

Y/n stared into his eyes, they were filled with so much passion and lust. Y/n’s heart fluttered, his stare was gentle yet his thrusts were rough. It didn’t take long for his carnal desires to take over. Y/n gripped the mat as he fucked her sopping cunt at a fast pace. His pelvis slamming against her, the sound of squelching filling as room his cock would occasionally brush up against her cervix, making her weaken.

Neteyam bites his lips in pure euphoria. He enjoyed seeing the bulge in her tummy, motivating him to go in deeper.

“O-Oh Eywa-” Y/n panted.

“Good girl. Good, good girl.” Neteyam coaxed her, riding her through your orgasm. Now on a mission to reach his own.

Y/n sensed his breath hitch, his noises getting louder with each shift of the mat- and she knew he was getting close.

“Inside. Please.” Y/n whines, wanting to feel full to the brim.

“Oh Ewya, Oh Y/n!!” he panted, her words turning him on even more than he thought was possible. His grip tightened around her wrists as he came inside her with a growl of Y/n’s name, possessiveness seeping out of him.

“I love you, I love you yawne, my mate” Neteyam mumbles, digging his face deep into the crevice of her neck. Y/n closes her eyes, feeling his cum sputter inside of her. Filling her full. It felt warm, relaxing her body. Neteyam hum in happiness, peppering kisses along her neck.

“Are you ok yawne?” Neteyam asks, pulling back to stare at her. Y/n seemed to glow under the lightning inside the tent. Her eyes lidded but wide open. They seemed to glitter, he couldn't believe all this. Belonged to him, and him only.

“Yes, I’m fine my love” she cooes, her fingers tracing along his cheek. She pecks his lips causing him to chuckle at his mate's adorable behavior.

He carefully pulls out his softening cock, Y/n letting out a whine at the feeling of emptiness. Neteyam reached for a cloth nearby, cleaning up the cum from her pussy.

“Thank you, for sharing your first with me” Neteyam mumbles, his eyes still trained on Y/n. His fingers worked carefully to clean her to the best of his ability. Their Kuru’s still connected only proved how happy she felt, how fulfilled she felt. He also felt her body feel tired, which is why he tried cleaning her up as fast as possible.

“And thank you Neteyam. You made me feel things I’ve never felt before….I love you” Y/n says, cups his cheeks and pulls him in for a kiss. Neteyam greedily accepts, sucking on her swollen lips.

Neteyam’s ears twitch suddenly, hearing the sound of footsteps. It sounded rushed and seemed to disappear the longer he focused on it.

Gently pulling away he glances at the opening of the tent, noting no movement from out there. He felt his body go stiff wondering if someone was out there. And who it might have been?

“What is it?” Y/n asks, also glancing at the entrance. Neteyam shrugs it off, pulling Y/n into a more comfortable position. He held her close to him, tightly within his protective arms. He nuzzled her neck inhaling her scent that was mixed with his. A deep carnal desire lights up realizing she smelt like him. Because she was his.

“Nothing, let’s get some rest yawne.”

~~~~~

“Y/n, please. I don’t want you to overwhelm yourself” Neteyam says yet again, trying to stop Y/n from walking towards the training ground.

Y/n had insisted on accompanying Neteyam during his training session today. Even though her entire body was aching in protest she argued against him walking towards the clearing. Y/n even prepared a basket full of fruit, which Neteyam was holding while following after his mate in a worry. He could see the way she walked, a tiny limp along her steps. Only proving that even though Neteyam tried being as careful as possible, it still affected her body greatly.

“I’m fine! You mustn’t treat me like I’m delicate. I proved it last night” Y/n teases playfully, throwing a wink his way. Neteyam chuckles while shaking his head at his stubborn mate. He grabs her hands into his and walks closer to the grounds.

Y/n hasn't even told him the true reason why she desperately wanted to attend the lesson. The morning she was surprised by the markings Neteyam left all over her neck, the crescent shaped marks along her hip. Normally such a display would embarrass the young Na’vi. But Y/n wanted a particular someone to see them. She wore them with pride.

Just as they walk into the clearing Neteyam and Y/n immediately greet the warriors. They all bow respectfully towards Y/n while Neteyam lets go of her, turning to her one last time.

“After the session today let’s go for an Ikran ride? Some time alone for the both of us?” Neteyam asks, his tail swishing excitedly behind him. Y/n hums in response.

“Stay under the shade and sit down alright? You may not be delicate, but you're precious to me. Alright?” Neteyam says, his eyes finding the perfectly shaded area beside the tree. Y/n holds back the urge to roll her eyes but nods nonetheless. After pecking him quickly she quickly makes her way to the tree sitting down. Y/n’s eyes find Ma’via, who stared at Neteyam but with something else written on her face. She also caught the way she kept glancing at Y/n, which was not normal.

“Still mad at Ma’via? I thought I fixed this already” Kiri pipes up, soundlessly taking a seat beside the girl. Y/n smirks, turning to her friend. She dramatically swipes her hair to the side calling attention to the marks Neteyam so graciously left all over her neck. Kiri’s eyes nearly burgle out of her head.

“Y/n!!! Don’t show me!!!” She squeals in minor disgust at the thought. Y/n giggles at her reaction.

~~~~~

The training had ended with Neteyam addressing the warriors. His smile seems to light up his entire face, the smirks on some of the male warriors not going unnoticed by Y/n. She did leave some scratch marks on Neteyam that were quite visible, but not enough compared to what he left on her.

Y/n’s nose twitches as she watches the warriors depart their respective paths, with Ma’via lingering behind. She seemed distant from Neteyam through the entire session, Yn had observed. But that didn't stop her from lingering around, throwing glances at him from time to time.

Y/n gets up, Kiri had long gone after she had gotten bored of watching sweaty Na’vi working hard. Y/n makes her way towards her mate, her hips swaying with each step. Ma’via is the first to notice her, her tail going stiff as she watches her. Her visible frown seems to deepen.

Neteyam turns round, his smile growing upon seeing his mate walk up to him. He opens his arms expecting a hug but his mate had other things in mind.

Once she is close enough, Y/n reaches up, pulling Neteyam in for a heated kiss. Her tongue immediately found his as she sucked along his tongue. Neteyam’s eyes widen but he melts into the kiss, pulling her against him. They heard the sounds of the excited warriors that were still in the groups, but all Y/n could focus on was the scoff that came from Ma’via’s direction.

Y/n pulls back, a string of saliva still connecting them. Neteyam’s grip on her hips did not relent as he gazed at her lips, his lips following after hers. Y/n glances at Ma’via, her smirk prominent. She tilts her head, her neck on full display. Ma’via bares her teeth as she notices the markings that Y/n showed off. Throwing her arrows in anger, she stomps her way out of the grounds.

“What was that for?” Neteyam questions, his tone playful. He follows Y/n’s eyesight to see Ma’via stomping away, her tail swishing behind her angrily. Neteyam smirks, his eyes tracing over the look that danced across Y/n’s face. That of possessiveness. It sent an excited shiver down his spine.

“Oh, Nothing. Just showing off what's mine” Y/n says casually, her hand reaching up to traces over the marks left by Neteyam. His eyes widened, his cheeks flushing at what she had shown off. He felt pride swell within him.

“If you want I could give you more?” He suggests, leaning closer as his breath fans across her face.

“How about I give you some? So a certain someone will know to keep their hands off of what’s mine?”

A deep growl emits from Neteyam’s chest at the thought of Y/n marking him. Marking his skin which would be visible to those around him, showing who he belonged to.

“Oh fuck baby, you don’t have to tell me twice” he growls, pulling her hard against his chest.

______________________________________________

A/N: I'm so sorry its long! I'm trying hard to condense my writing because I feel like if its too long no one will want to read it. But I hope you enjoyed it!! Again, please keep in mind smut is still new to me, so my writing may suck! I'm sorry for that, but thank you for reading and all your support!!

Precious Tsyeym TagList

@farleyis @aliseaaah @mahalkomarvel @baebinana @cheyehc @beautifulglitterwombat

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nctstar · 1 year ago

Note

Can you write a smut w plot on Taeyong x sub!reader x Mark ? I am craving for this pair please bestie...you can take your time, no rush. make them a bit possessive and dom and you can add anything to your liking.

hiii friend! i know this is CRAZY late but i hope you still like it <3 turned out a bit more sad than expected HAHA

dumb conversations, we lose track of time

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” He bent over to kiss you, bringing both of his icy hands to your face, but you didn’t care. The kiss was everything, and you brought your bodies over to the wall as you continued, one of his legs now in between yours. “Fuck, I think…I’m gonna miss you so bad.”

pairing: markyong x fem!reader (no markyong ship)

other members: other 127 members mentioned

word count: 3k

genre: romance & smut, angst, fluff, sort of hurt/comfort

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni!! mild profanity, mentions of being sick from food, kissing, dom!markyong, praise kink, degradation (use of slut/whore), daddy kink, slapping, penetrative sex, riding, oral (male receiving), manhandling/being held down/held in place, missionary sex, praising (sweet girl, good girl), crying (like lots of crying!!), subspace, double penetration (2 in 1), clitoral stimulation, taeyong is leaving for military service and this is upsetting to reader (strong self insert moment LMAO)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic.

a/n: NOW i know i was technically supposed to make this a (freaky) smut only...but i had to add the extra things because i have been sooo emotional lately and i have not really been in a smut mood unless it's emotional and loving :D with the release of the tortured poets department, taeyong's enlistment, renjun's hiatus...ya'll it's just been a lot. so a lot of this is very much just me projecting HAHA but hope it's comforting to some of you. also, i just wanna say that you guys shouldn't feel pressured to engage in sexual activity when you're sad and crying...everything here is consensual of COURSE as always, and this is all fantasy but i just thought I'd add that in. please take care of yourselves when you're vulnerable. love ya'll mwah <3

You stifled your giggles in the droop of your cardigan, but Taeyong still flushed red. Your cheeks puffed out as you fought the urge to snort in his face. “I’m so sorry.”

He rolled his eyes, instinctively going to run his hands through his now non-existent hair, making you double over in laughter. “Alright, miss, that’s enough. Hilarious, I know.”

“Noooo Taeyong, don’t be embarrassed.” You ran over, pinching his cheeks in your hands, feeling his skin hot and elastic under your thumbs. “You’re so cute. Like…Anpanman!”

“I know you love jjingppang, jagi, but that was so uncalled for.” You strung his arm into your body, letting the both of you walk away from the dim lights of the restaurant. “Why? Are you hungry? But didn’t you just eat?”

“There is always space for dessert, hon. Come on, we’ve been together 2 and a half years now, and you still don’t know my philosophies?” You were teasing, having fun, but as you watched another couple walk in front of you, hands gripped tightly together, the shadows in the trees dancing across their bodies, you felt something sharp poke inside you. You gulped the feeling down, forcing a smile, even though you knew he wasn’t watching.

“You’ll get sick if you eat too much bread again.” You shook your head, scoffing. “That was one time, Taeyong. And it was in Japan. I would definitely have eaten that much again.”

“Really? I recall you crying in the bathroom, whining to me about why I didn’t stop you.” You knocked him playfully, feeling his scent permeate your senses and bring you back to those times in Japan. He was here now, a solid body standing right next to you, brushing up against you, but…You felt a sudden rush of emotion, but you could see Mark’s car now, and you decided not to bring up what you had been thinking the entire time.

“So-“

“I’m sorry I’m leaving you.” The words surprised you, even though it was something both of you had been holding back the entire time. “I’m sorry I have to do this.”

“Don’t be silly.” You were standing in front of him now, the white streetlights illuminating every line on his face, too scared to look into his eyes. “You have to do it, right? And, you should be proud of yourself. It’s hard work you are willing to dedicate yourself to for a while. And, I can always take care of myself.”

“You have Mark.”

“No, I can take care of myself.” You nodded as if you were trying to convince yourself instead of just him. Your eyes watered, working against every restraint you had. “Please, just…it will be fine. I will still see you. Just, not as often. But you’ll still be here.” He held both your hands, bringing them to his chest, and you were looking at your shoes, watching them get blurrier, feeling him pull your body towards his.

You couldn’t do it. Not for the last time.

“Bye.” You let go of his hands, turning swiftly around and walking towards the parked car at a pace that seemed closer to running.

The warmth enveloped you, and you hastily rubbed off the tears, almost embarrassed at the thought of crying in front of him. Both of them. “H-hey, Mark.”

“You okay?” You nodded, and he brought your hand to his lips, lightly pecking it before he shifted gears.

∞

The apartment was quiet at first, as if it already sensed the loss of one tenant. “Just squeezing past, babe.” Mark’s shoulder brushed yours as the keys jangled in his fingers, his steps retreating towards the bathroom. You walked over to the couch, looking at the empty cake box, the one Doyoung had bought to celebrate. The cake crumbs that littered the floor, the frosting on the couch – you didn’t even have the heart to be mad.

“Is that frosting…on the couch?”

You chuckled weakly, sniffling. “Yeah. I thought I told Jungwoo not to make a mess.”

“You didn’t. You’re so quiet around the boys. So shy.” Mark’s breath tickled your neck, his lips grazing the skin hidden underneath your cardigan. He kissed you gently, bringing one hand to your shoulder, the one he had brushed. “It’s what I love about you.”

You smiled, watching Mark’s shadow cover you as he moved to sit next to you on the couch. “What a mess. This isn’t driving you crazy?” You shook your head, but you smiled, a little bit more genuine this time. Curling up next to Mark, you basked in the heat of his body. He pressed his nose to the top of your head, inhaling your scent. “You smell good.”

“You trying to get laid, Lee?” You felt his chest shake as he laughed, both a little awkwardly and without holding back, like he always did. You thought of all the times you fell asleep in his lap, feeling him stroke your body soothingly as you both waited for Taeyong to get home.

You sat up, turning, looking deep into Mark’s eyes. “I love you.” You kissed him, pulling his bottom lip with your mouth as you pulled away. He ran his hands up your back, connecting lips as you climbed onto his lap, so quick to bring your body against his. He held your hips in place when you stared to move, groaning softly as he pulled away from your mouth. “Are you sure?”

“What, am I sure I love you?”

“No, I mean,” he gasped shortly when you kissed his collarbone, a spot only you knew how to tease. “Easy, baby. I mean, are you okay with doing it tonight?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Your voice came out sharper than you intended, and you hated yourself in that moment for ruining it all. Desperate to stop him from continuing, you shut him up with a kiss, moving his hands from your hips so you could grind against his growing bulge. Your fingers in his hair, you dug your knees on the couch so you could push your chest onto his face. He moaned this time, tugging at the ends of your hoodie to signal you to take it off. You hissed when the cold hit your bare torso, Mark unhooking your bra clasp as you shivered. “You cold, sweetheart?” You nodded, but you were sitting back onto his lap, both of you shrugging off your bottoms as you talked. The cold drew goosebumps on your skin, but you felt wet and hot in the pits of your stomach.

“Fuck, so tight.” Mark threw his head back as you cried out, feeling the stretch harder than you remembered. He held you in place with a hand on the small of your back, another on your thigh. “Shhh. Come closer to me. Good girl.” He continued praising you as you sunk deeper onto his length, inches buried inside you. “W-wait.” You pressed a hand to his stomach, warning him not to move as you scrunched your eyes shut. “So fucking big.” Mark laughed, moving your hand away and bringing your chest closer to his mouth. As he licked and nipped at your body, you began to relax, your breath quickening with every passing second. His dick jumped inside you, making you whimper. “You ready, sweet girl?”

You tasted the tears before you felt them, streaked down your face. “Please.” you begged, and he began to thrust up into you. “Fuck, Mark, M-Mark!” Your voice carried through the apartment as he rolled his hips into you. “Come on, baby, that’s it. You’re our good girl, right?” You sobbed, bringing one hand to your mouth to quieten yourself, but he pulled the hand away. “If you’re gonna cum, you better do it screaming my name. You understand?” He held your chin into place. “Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, p-please. Fuck,” You gasped, feeling the ripples of pleasure run through your body. “I’m close! Please, Mark, can I-“

“Yeah, good girl, baby. I’m close too.” His voice was raspy, his thrusts sloppy as he reached his own high. You shut your eyes, feeling your thighs constrict as you came. You breathed heavily, the tears still running down your face. When the ringing sound stopped post-orgasm, you heard yourself crying.

“Hey, hey. You did well, sweetheart. It’s okay, I’m right here.” You nodded, feeling your body slump against him. “Can I pull out? Does it hurt? I didn’t hurt you, right?”

You looked into his eyes, feeling the way he held you so securely in his arms. “I miss him. I miss the three of us. I know it’s silly, because it technically hasn’t happened yet, but,” you sighed. “I didn’t know how hard it would be until it really happened.”

Mark hummed in agreement, wiping away your tears. “Of course. That’s not silly. And, I love you too, okay? I’m here for you.” You wrapped your arms around his body, breathing in his scent, feeling Mark pull your hoodie around the both of you. “You never hurt me, Mark.”

∞

You both woke up with a jolt when the knocking started. You climbed off Mark as your eyes shot open, and the both of you started frantically dressing, as if the person had entered straight away. “Who’s coming over so late?” Mark grumbled.

“Hopefully Jungwoo to clean the couch.” You muttered, but Mark was rushing to open the door after peeking through the peephole, and you frowned.

“Hyung.”

You knew it was him. But you couldn’t even move. In that moment, you were frozen in time.

“Hi, jagi.” His body stood looming over yours, his face red from the cold outside. You didn’t know what to say, rubbing the itch on one of your ankles to kill time.

“You’re…you’re here.”

“Yeah. It’s my apartment too, right?” He smirked. “Why, is the Anpanman look enough to make you forget me?” You laughed, sniffling, hitting him lightly on the chest. You noticed Mark raise an eyebrow, left out of the inside joke. Your stomach churned, your heart pining for a loss that suddenly was not lost, and it all felt so out of place.

“I love you.”

“You’ll live.” You scoffed, pushing him away. He laughed, the smile lines on his face making your heart soar. “I don’t think I’m gonna miss these stupid jokes.”

He kissed your forehead. “I think you will.” You rolled your eyes, but he was right. As always. You ran a hand up his chest, then, underneath the hoodie he was wearing. You gasped in an exaggerated, ditsy way, making your voice airy on purpose. “Officer, I think you’re pretty hard right now.”

Taeyong smirked, his eyes darkening as he gripped the wrist of your wandering hand. “Oh yeah? You think you know me so well? Wanna play that game?” In the corner of your eye, you watched Mark’s figure step closer. “She already did, Hyung.” He pushed his tongue on the side of his cheek, and you fluttered your eyelashes at Taeyong, feigning innocence. “I didn’t do anything. He’s lying.”

“Oh?” Mark looked pissed, and you only giggled in response. Taeyong brought his face closer to yours. “If I find out you’ve been lying, you’re done for. Now, on your knees.” You complied, seconds later being met with Taeyong’s length springing out of his boxers. You covered his tip with your mouth, but you felt your hair being yanked backwards and a slap on your face. “Did I say anything yet? Dirty slut.” Mark’s grip on your hair didn’t falter, and you whined. “If you want to suck me so bad, you better be ready to beg for it.”

“Mmm, please. Please let me taste you, Daddy. Please, I’ll be good.” Mark’s other hand travelled under your chin, tilting your head up almost uncomfortably, making you yelp. “Tap him if it’s too much, okay?” You nodded in response, and as soon as you did, Mark’s thumb pressed hard on your bottom lip, prying your jaw open. Taeyong thrusted inside your open mouth, guttural groans leaving him as he did. Tears sprung to your eyes at the sudden intrusion, the apartment now filled with the sounds of you violently gagging on dick. Your fists clenched by your sides. “Pretty cockwhore, aren’t you?” Mark whistled lowly, making you squeeze your legs in embarrassment. “Ah, so you like being our nasty little thing. As expected.” You shook your head, but he only tightened his grip, laughing almost cruelly in response. Taeyong pulled out when he heard you choking, inhaling air as soon as his tip left your mouth. “Not so talkative now, are you, pretty?” Your voice raspy as you spoke, you opened your mouth wider, sticking your tongue out. “Daddy’s little whore, yeah?” You could only hum in response as Mark held you still, Taeyong jerking himself off on your tongue. You swallowed the cum in your mouth, letting some of it drool out of your mouth. Taeyong bent over, spreading it over your chin, mixed with your drool. “Go and bend over the couch.” You went to nod once more, but he slapped your face. “Words.”

“Y-yes, T-Taeyongie.” You only used that when you were floating away, letting yourself go, and to be honest, you were surprised it had happened so soon. As you bent over the couch, you had an inkling that they were surprised too. You felt Taeyong’s hands on your sides, and you jumped. “Sorry, jagi. Is this still okay?”

“Uh-huh.” You felt wetness pool in between your legs. “Please, f-fuck me. Before, what happened…well, Markie…I’m sorry I lied, Daddy.” You heard Taeyong shushing you. “I want you to enjoy yourself, beautiful. Okay? Tell me if this is too much.” You sighed, relaxing when you felt Taeyong rub up your back, pressing hard in the way that you liked. Under his hands, you felt safe. Calm. Honest.

“C-Can we go to the bedroom? I don’t like this position.”

Your body burned, even though your shared bedroom was freezing tonight. “Fuck, it’s cold in here.” Taeyong held you close to your body, as if he never wanted to let go.

As the three of you sat on the edge of the bed, you began to ugly cry. Taeyong rubbed your back as you shook, Mark taking a tissue to wipe your chin. “Was it too much? Baby?” You didn’t know who was speaking, but you held both their hands, unable to stop the tears from falling. “No, its just that,” you rubbed your face harshly, feeling the days makeup rub off on your hand. “This is all so fucking dumb. I’m sorry, but, I don’t want you to leave. I don’t care if that makes me a bad person.” Taeyong laughed as he held your head in both his hands, pulling you into his body. Mark ran his hands soothingly up your thighs. “I think I love this side of you, actually.”

You smiled, remembering your conversation only a while ago. “Sorry I’m ruining everything.”

“Sorry but, you must be fucking crazy if you think that’s true for even a second.” Unlocking yourself from Taeyong’s embrace, you exaggerate lifting your hands up in surrender. “Okay, relax, Mark. Don’t call a woman crazy.”

“Especially not a horny one.” You snorted at this, making both of them laugh. Sighing, you tried to appear mad or even annoyed. But you hadn’t felt more free in days.

He was right. You were going to miss these stupid jokes.

The three of you rolled onto the bed, you straddling Taeyong while Mark left noisy kisses down the sides of your neck from behind. “I want you both inside me. Please.” You moaned as Mark squeezed your boob from under your shirt, your head on his shoulder as Taeyong pulled your panties down, the three of you momentarily and, almost comically, struggling with taking them all the way off.

Your hands splayed across Taeyong’s bare chest, you bent over to kiss him. “I’ll miss you.” You whispered against his skin, and he squeezed the outside of your thigh in response. As Mark sheathed himself inside you for the second time that night, he began to thrust straight away. “Still fits like a fucking sleeve, so fucking good.” Your breath quickened as your clit rolled against Taeyong’s bare cock, your moans thickening as you watched Taeyong lie beneath you. “You ready, my love?” You nodded furiously, Mark holding onto you with an arm across your shoulders, pressing your body flush against his. Both men guided you onto Taeyong’s length, the stretch now burning, firecrackers exploding in your stomach. “Fuck! Oh fuck!” You couldn’t breathe, pulling at Mark’s arm, slowly registering him shushing you in your ear. “Relax, baby girl. You’re doing so well. Almost there.” Taeyong groaned in pleasure, shifting the tiniest bit, which made you yelp. The feeling was so unfamiliar, and your heart pounded at the new sensations. “Please, don’t move yet.” Taeyong rubbed circles on your clit, watching your face carefully.

“Nghh, ahh…” The feeling of both of them inside you was starting to choke you from the inside, deliciously bringing you close to a release. “Wait, Daddy, don’t-“ You squealed as you squirted, your clit throbbing from the aftermath. “Shit, I don’t know if I can-“

“You can cum again, pretty. I know you can.” You moaned, feeling both of them bump against each other and into your walls inside you, wet and messy. “Oh my god, oh my…” you babbled, holding onto anything as they thrusted relentlessly, both their timing desperate and rocky. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!”

“Cum for us, jagi, that’s it.” Taeyong’s voice rose in pitch, and you heard Mark groaning in your ear, pressing your upper body closer to his. You came for the second time, gasping for air, hips rolling without permission over both their cocks. You slumped over Taeyong after, Mark pulling out and resting next to you both on the bed.

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alygator77 · 7 months ago

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ᰔᩚ motherhood and matrimony I ch 6 ᰔᩚ

ꨄ︎ pairing. au ceo! satoru gojo x single mom secretary fem! reader

ꨄ summary. satoru gojo, the arrogant and irresistible heir to a billion-dollar corporation and the son of your boss, the ceo... but when satoru’s father dies unexpectedly, his inheritance hinges on a stipulation: he must marry and have a child, but the child doesn't necessarily have to be his, right? together, you strike a deal: a fake marriage that promises financial stability for you and corporate control for him. as the lines between business and emotion blur, you must decide if your partnership is purely contractual or if it could evolve into something real.

ꨄ︎ warnings/tags. 18+ MDNI, nsfw, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, fake marriage, slow burn, smut, fluff, bit of angst, reader is single mom who recently broke off her engagement, satoru being a cute step dad, naoya is your crappy ex, some triggers of domestic abuse (emotional abuse but it can be a bit suggestive/interpreted as physical, from naoya not satoru) » 【note, this chapter contains explicit sexual content (dry humping, grinding)】

ꨄ words: 14.4k

ꨄ a/n. hello my lovelies!! :) life has been a roller coaster to say the least, but i'm so excited to share this chapter with ya'll. i'll see you at the bottom with my thoughts ♡

ꨄ taglist: closed (ao3)

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ch 6 // drenched in truth

The gala was a night that promised perfection, elegance and ease…but the storm on the horizon had other plans for you.

As murmurs of conversation hum throughout the grand ballroom, it’s easy to forget the world outside—that is, until you hear the first distant rumble of thunder.

Before you know it, the once clear starry evening, slowly gives way to ominous clouds gathering the horizon, with the first raindrops of the evening arriving barely noticed beneath the layers of music and chatter—tapping against the expansive windows like an impatient guest requesting entry.

But the gentle taps soon evolve into a steady, insistent drumming, making the rain’s presence impossible to ignore as the water streams down the glass windows in rivulets—distorting the view outside and making the world beyond seem distant and blurred.

It’s getting late…

You subtly glance down at your phone to check the time, and as the screen illuminates, a picture of you and Haru at the park flashes across the display. What a bright and sunny memory—completely different from the now impossible to ignore presence of this unforgiving rain.

As the storm outside grows, your thoughts immediately shift to Haru. Is she okay?

The last time there was such a storm, Haru had been terrified of the thunder—each crack making her small frame shake, eyes filled with tears and voice trembling as she whispered mama, seeking comfort in your embrace.

Is the nanny capable of soothing her?

The sudden concern that she might be scared and inconsolable gnaws at you, making it hard to focus on anything else as you navigate the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with people whose names you’ll forget by morning.

The opulence of the gala, the sparkling chandeliers, the elegant music—it all feels suffocating, a gilded cage keeping you from where you truly need to be. Home. That’s where you should be, holding Haru close, comforting her through the storm, not trapped in this endless sea of strangers and small talk.

You glance at Satoru beside you—a picture of calm, hand resting in his pocket as he engages in light-hearted conversation with a group of guests, smiling and laughing. It’s all so natural, so effortless as their chatter seems to exist in a world far removed from the storm—both outside and within you.

As you stand there, nodding along to the conversation without truly listening, your eyes begin to drift across the room and you notice a few other couples discreetly making their way towards the exit, coats draped over their arms—if only you could do the same.

You find yourself fidgeting with the hem of your dress—you really want to go home.

Glancing up at Satoru again, you wait for a brief lull in his conversation where the chatter dies down just enough for you to discreetly speak to him without interrupting.

Once the opportunity arises with the laughter fading and the conversation shifting to another topic, you seize your moment. Leaning in close to Satoru, your shoulder brushes against his arm as you softly whisper under your breath.

“Hey… it’s getting late and with this storm, maybe we should think about heading out soon?”

Your words are careful, quiet, meant to blend into the background noise of the gala so that no one else notices your request, and Satoru’s gaze flickers to you, his expression softening as he takes in your concern. But then he sighs quietly, his hand gently brushing against your arm, a small gesture of reassurance.

“I know,” he murmurs, “but there’s just one more obligation I have to fulfill for the event—a quick thank-you speech to the sponsors. I promise, we’ll leave right after that.”

He begins to turn back to the conversation, the group’s voices already beginning to rise again, but just as he starts to pull away, a low rumble of thunder reverberates through the room, and your gaze instinctively flickers to the windows, where the rain beats against the glass with increasing ferocity, the relentless sheets of water streaking down like tears.

Without thinking, your hand reaches out, lightly touching Satoru’s arm—a small, almost hesitant gesture. As your fingers brush against the fabric of his sleeve, your subtle plea for his attention makes him pause and turn back towards you, concern flickering in his eyes.

“Satoru…I’m really worried about Haru,” you confess, keeping your voice low to avoid drawing the attention of those around you. “She hates storms… she’s terrified of thunder.”

Before you can say more, he shifts slightly, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you gently into his side. You are met immediately with the warmth of his body, the subtle scent of his cologne and the steady rhythm of his breath. His hand moves in slow, comforting motions up and down your arm, as if trying to transfer some of his calm to you.

He tilts his chin down towards you and he speaks in a low gentle murmur, meant only for you.

“Haru has the nanny. She’s safe. I’ll make sure she’s okay, and this won’t take long—I’ll be quick, I promise.”

His words, paired with the comforting rhythm of his hand, are meant to ease your worries, to reassure you that everything will be alright, but for some reason they land with a dull thud in your chest.

You know Haru has the nanny…but you can’t shake the feeling that it might not be enough for her. You’ve been Haru’s rock throughout everything—Naoya was never there for her, and she hasn’t had anyone else.

“I know, but…” you glance towards the windows again as another rumble of thunder reverberates through the room. “Haru gets so scared. Last time, she cried for hours and couldn’t sleep without me.”

Satoru’s eyes flicker between you and the group of guests nearby, a momentary glance that betrays the tug-of-war happening within him.

“I get it. I do,” his tone is still gentle but with an edge of urgency now. His eyes lock onto yours, pleading for understanding even as they flit once more to the gathering around you. “This is important, though. I made a commitment to be here, and it’s crucial that I see it through. But I’ll make it quick, I promise. We’ll leave as soon as I’m done, and we’ll be home before you know it.”

A mix of frustration and helplessness begin to bubble through you as you watch his gaze. There is a sense of sincerity, yet it feels divided—part of him here with you, with another part already back in the spotlight, where the murmurs of the gala grow louder.

You know he’s committed to the cause, that his presence here holds weight—it’s not that you don’t understand—it’s just that… does that really matter right now when Haru might need you?

“Alright…” you say reluctantly, the word heavy on your tongue. “Just… don’t take too long, please.”

ꨄ︎

Perhaps this storm isn’t just weather—it’s a harbinger.

Your attention shifts between watching Satoru on stage, giving his speech to the sponsors, to the large windows lining the ballroom. Outside the once vibrant red carpet is now a sodden strip of fabric, abandoned to the elements.

The storm has worsened, intensifying with each passing minute, and with it, your sense of dread. Your fingers tap idly against the polished surface of the round dinner table as the wind howls like it wants to be let in, the rain lashing against the glass with a ferocity that seems malevolent.

You try to focus on Satoru’s words, but a movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. A man, tall and imposing with raven hair, weaves his way through the crowd, his presence almost too casual for an event like this. He’s dressed well enough to blend in, but there’s something about him—something in the way he carries himself, the scar upon his lips—he feels out of place.

He's somewhat…intimidating—like a predator stalking its prey.

Once the man approaches your table, you stiffen slightly, instinctively pulling your shawl tighter around your shoulders. He’s close now, close enough that you can make out the sharpness in his features, the cold glint in his eyes.

But…why is there an air of familiarity about him? You can’t quite place it. He stops just short of your chair, a smile curling his lips, though is doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Mind if I sit?” he asks—and he doesn’t wait for your answer before pulling out the chair beside you.

Caught off guard, you nod slowly.

“Sure…”

Settling into the seat with a casual ease there's a small, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. A subtle tension radiates from him as his gaze flickers to you.

“Enjoying the event?” he asks, voice smooth, almost too smooth, like oil on water.

Great. This is really not what you need right now. It’s hard enough playing your part when you have Satoru’s support, but now, you’re by yourself. What if you slip up and say something wrong?

Unease bubbles inside you, making it difficult to muster more than a faint smile upon your lips.

“Yes, it’s been lovely,” you nod politely.

“Mm… quite the storm out there though,” he comments. “But then again, a little chaos never hurt anyone, right?”

His tone sends a cool shiver down your spine. This guy gives you the creeps, but you force a polite smile, unsure of what to make of him.

“I suppose not…”

He leans back in his chair, his gaze shifting to Satoru on stage before flicking back to you.

“You must be proud, seeing him up there,” he remarks. “It’s not every day you get to stand beside someone so… influential.”

His words, though innocuous on the surface, feel laden with meaning—like there’s something he’s not saying, something he’s implying, and you feel a chill that has nothing to do with the storm outside.

Who is this man, and why does he seem so familiar?

He leans in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper.

“It’s important to keep an eye on those you care about, wouldn’t you agree? Sometimes… things aren’t always as they seem.”

The statement hangs in the air, heavy with implication, but before you can respond, he straightens up, his gaze flickering to the stage again where Satoru is now wrapping up his speech. The unsettling smile returns to his face—a smile that carries a shadow passing over his expression.

“Well, I won’t keep you,” he stands from the chair. “Enjoy the rest of your evening,” and he turns on his heel, disappearing back into the crowd as quickly as he appeared.

But the chill he leaves behind lingers, gnawing at the edges of your mind.

Weird…what a creep.

You shake off the lingering sense of unease as Satoru beings to step down from the podium, exchanging pleasantries and goodbyes with a few lingering guests.

His eyes flicker to you, and then towards the window, catching a glimpse of lightning as it illuminates the darkened sky, and for just a second, you notice a shift in his expression as he takes in the worsening weather.

Excusing himself from the crowd, Satoru steps to the side discreetly with practiced ease and pulls out his phone. You watch as he dials, his back turned slightly from the attendees, and although you can’t hear his words, you know what he’s doing—a rush of relief washes over you as you realize he’s calling the driver to come pick you up.

Finally.

The thought of being on your way home, of holding Haru close and reassuring her, makes the wait almost unbearable.

Satoru’s conversation is brief, but you watch it with growing anticipation, and once he slips his phone back into his pocket, he meets your gaze from across the room again.

Wait…there is something in his expression…an unease that wasn’t there before. Concern.

He weaves through the crowd with purposeful strides, and your heart sinks—it slowly becomes more apparent that something isn’t right, and the chatter in the ballroom grows quiet as guests murmur about the worsening weather.

Once Satoru reaches you, he doesn’t speak immediately. Instead, he pulls out the seat beside you, flipping it around so that the back of the chair presses against his chest as he sits, arms folded across the top of it. The movement is casual in appearance, but the way his fingers tighten around the wood, his knuckles whitening just slightly, betrays the calm facade he’s trying to maintain.

“So…” he leans in a little closer, voice low, almost reluctant. “We’ve got a bit of a situation.”

“What’s wrong?” anxiety builds inside you.

He hesitates, just for a moment, his eyes flicking to the side as if searching for the right words, before meeting your gaze head-on.

“There’s been an accident on the main road leading out of the city… it’s caused a major blockage, and with all this rain, the roads are practically flooded. My driver’s stuck on the other side and won’t be able to reach us for hours… maybe not until morning.”

Oh, you see red.

The storm outside suddenly feels like a mirror to the one brewing inside you—fierce, relentless, and impossible to contain.

If only you had left sooner, if only Satoru hadn’t insisted on staying for that last part of the gala—if only he had understood the urgency you felt—you wouldn’t be in this mess.

And now, Haru is alone at home, frightened and vulnerable, and you’re stuck here, trapped by circumstances beyond your control.

The thought makes your blood boil.

“So, what do we do?” The words escape your lips with a sharpness that even you didn’t anticipate, cutting through the air like a knife.

Satoru’s eyes widen and he runs a hand through his hair, a rare display of uncertainty flickering across his usually composed demeanor. His eyes shift away from you, scanning the room as if searching for a solution hidden in the lavish surroundings.

“…let me figure this out. Wait here,” he murmurs as he pushes back his chair and stands.

Watching his tall frame cut through the crowd, suddenly the sound of the rain beating against the glass now seems almost accusatory—a relentless reminder of this absurd situation you are now stuck in.

This night suddenly feels like it’s teetering on the edge of disaster—the thin veneer of control slipping from you with each passing second. But there are faces around you, and although they blur into a sea of indifference and hallow chatters, you are acutely aware that people are still watching.

You take a deep breath attempting to calm your frustration. There must be something Satoru can do. He has money and power—there must be some sort of solution he can find to this. Haru needs you.

Suddenly, you catch sight of Satoru weaving his way back towards you, his stride purposeful and his expression carrying a hint of relief. For a brief moment, hope flutters in your chest—perhaps he’s found a way out of this mess.

When he reaches you, he shoves his hands into his pockets, leans in slightly and speaks with a sense of accomplishment.

“So… good news. I spoke with the event coordinator. Given the circumstances, the hotel has offered us one of their VIP suites for the night. It’s just upstairs, fully equipped with everything we need until the roads clear up.”

Yeah…that’s not the solution you wanted.

A suite? He wants you to stay overnight? When Haru is at home, probably terrified, clinging to her blankets with wide, tear-filled eyes? Does he really think that’s what you wanted to hear?

“That’s considerate of them, but what about Haru?”

The words escape your lips before you can temper them, clipped and laced with the sharp edge of your rising aggravation. As they slice through the air, the flicker of surprise that crosses Satoru’s face is immediate.

Fuck.

You’re still in public, at this stupid gala. You have to stay composed; you can’t afford to lose control—not here.

Your eyes scan the room for any prying eyes, anyone who might have caught the slight outburst. It doesn’t seem like anyone noticed… thankfully. The last thing you need is for your moment of panic to become another piece of gossip for the night.

Taking a long deep breath, you attempt to regain some semblance of composure, but as you lower your voice, the tension still coils tight in your words.

“She’s back home, we can’t just leave her alone.”

“But she’s not alone,” he counters, tone firm but gentle. “Haru’s in good hands with the nanny, she’s safe. I’ll make sure everything is handled. I’ll compensate the nanny for staying overnight with Haru.”

He is clearly not on the same page as you—he doesn’t understand. Safe? Maybe. But comforted? No. Compensation won’t calm Haru’s fears; money can’t replace the warmth and reassurance of her mother’s arms when she’s trembling in fear.

But you can’t say that here—you don’t trust yourself to soften the words, not with the eyes of the gala on you, prying, ready to dissect any sign of discord between you and Satoru. So instead, you grasp for something, anything—another solution, another way out of this mess.

“Isn’t there something else we can do? Another route we can take?” you press, the desperation seeping through despite your efforts to keep it contained.

Satoru’s shoulders tense ever so slightly, a subtle shift that only someone who knows him as well as you do would notice. There is a flicker of frustration in his eyes as they narrow, and you watch him take a moment to briefly weigh his words.

“Y/n this is the best solution I can come up with,” there’s an undercurrent of firmness that brooks no argument. “It’s not safe for us to leave right now. The roads are flooded, and I can’t risk us getting caught out there.”

For a moment, the two of you are locked in a silent standoff, each of you grappling with the weight of the situation, the reality pressing down like the storm outside. He’s right—you know he is—but that doesn’t make the situation any easier to swallow. The knowledge sits heavy in your chest, a bitter pill that refuses to go down smoothly.

Why couldn’t Satoru just listen to you when you suggested you leave early?

The thought fuels your frustration simmering just beneath the surface. You should have been more persistent. But now, here you are, trapped in this gilded cage while your daughter is home, scared and needing you.

Satoru exhales softly, the tension in his shoulders easing and the hard edges of his demeanor softening just slightly as he steps closer to you—he’s trying to bridge the growing chasm between you.

His hand reaches out, and you want to pull back, but you are in public, you can’t. There’s a softness in his touch, a quiet desperation to connect, but you can feel the gap widening under the weight of everything left unsaid.

He tilts his head, caressing your hand as his gaze searches yours.

“It’s just one night,” he murmurs, and there’s a tenderness there, an unspoken plea for you to understand, to see that he’s trying to make the best of a bad situation. But to you, the words feel hollow, like they’re echoing in a void that’s too vast to bridge with simple reassurances. “We’ll be back first thing in the morning before Haru even wakes up.”

But will she be okay?

The question burns in your throat but you keep it to yourself—it wouldn’t come out nice anyway.

You are trapped—trapped by the storm, trapped by this situation, trapped by the need to maintain this perfect, unblemished image for everyone around you.

So instead, you force a tight-lipped smile, one that doesn’t reach your eyes. It’s the best you can manage, a fragile mask to hide the storm inside.

“Guess we don’t have a choice….”

“I know…we’ll get through this though. Just one night,” he echoes, as if saying it again will make it more true, but the repetition feels like an empty promise.

You nod, the motion stiff and reluctant.

“I understand,” the words taste like ash. “Let’s go upstairs then,” you rise from your seat, not waiting for him to respond.

ꨄ︎

As the elevator doors slide open with a quiet ding, you step inside with clipped precision, your movements sharp and purposeful. The elevator is empty—thank God.

The last thing you need right now is to plaster on a fake smile and pretend that everything is fine when you’re anything but. You don’t have the energy to pretend—not in front of strangers, and certainly not in front of Satoru.

You barely acknowledge him as he steps in behind you, your focus narrowing on the glowing buttons as you swiftly press the number for your floor. Once the door closes with a soft thud, instinctively, you gravitate to the far side of the elevator, creating as much distance between you and Satoru as the small space allows.

There’s a brief pause as Satoru hesitates, his eyes flickering over to you before he pulls out his phone, and the soft glow of the screen casts a muted light over his features, highlighting the tension in his brow.

As the elevator hums quietly, beginning its ascent, you catch sight of Satoru dialing the nanny’s number from the corner of your eye, lifting the phone to his ear.

“Hey, listen… there’s been a situation with the roads—they’re flooded, and we won’t be able to make it back tonight. Can you stay with Haru until morning?”

He pauses, listening intently to the nanny’s response, and although you can’t make out her words, you see the way Satoru's brow furrows, the lines of tension etching themselves deeper into his features.

The muffled sound of the nanny’s voice filters through the phone, indistinct and far away—until another sound reaches your ears, clear and unmistakable.

Haru.

Her small, trembling voice carries through the phone, quivering with fear as she calls for you, confirming the gnawing dread that had been eating away at you all night. You were right, of course, but there’s no satisfaction in that—not when your daughter is scared and crying for you, and you’re trapped miles away, helpless to do anything about it.

Satoru’s jaw tightens. “Haru’s okay, right?” tone softer now, almost hesitant.

There’s a pause, a heavy silence that stretches out as Satoru listens, and you watch as something in his posture shifts—his shoulders slump ever so slightly, a small, almost imperceptible movement, but enough to tell you that the news isn’t good. He closes his eyes for a moment, exhaling quietly.

“Tell her that her Mama will be home in the morning… and I’ll make sure everything’s okay. Just... stay with her, please.”

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Satoru fixes his gaze on the floor, unable—or perhaps unwilling—to meet your eyes. He offers no words of comfort, no apology. And you, in turn, make no effort to break the silence either.

Maybe it’s for the best—because right now, the storm raging inside you is just as fierce as the one outside, and you’re not sure you can contain it much longer. The lid holding down your frustration is teetering dangerously on the edge, threatening to spill over, and as the pressure builds, your emotions coil tight like a spring ready to snap.

If you open your mouth now, the floodgates will burst.

So, you’ll wait—you’ll discuss this with Satoru when you’re more level-headed. Right now, all you want to do is crawl into bed—away from Satoru, away from this night, away from everything that feels so suffocatingly wrong.

The silence stretches on, thick and unbearable, and once the elevator finally reaches your floor with a soft chime, without a word, you step out, your heels clicking against the polished floor, with Satoru following a step behind—silent and distant, the space between you feeling wider than ever.

ꨄ︎

The moment you step into the VIP suite, the first thing that strikes you is the sheer size of the room—it’s more like a luxurious apartment than a mere hotel room. The high ceilings are adorned with intricate chandeliers, rich furnishings and artwork that probably costs more than what your entire apartment had cost.

The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a breathtaking view of the city below, and there is a beautiful patio overlooking the city with the lights twinkling against the stormy backdrop, but instead of feeling awe, it’s only a reminder of how trapped you are.

In the common room, a plush, oversized sofa commands the space, flanked by elegant armchairs and a coffee table that looks more like a piece of art than something meant for everyday use. You set your purse and shawl down on the polished surface and begin to explore the room.

Your gaze wanders to a nearby dining area, where a table is set for two, the fine china and crystal glasses gleaming under the soft light. Beyond that, a sleek bar catches your eye, stocked with an assortment of premium spirits. At the center, a bottle of champagne chills in a gleaming silver bucket, waiting to be uncorked—a celebration you’re far from feeling.

Curious, you open the first door you come across, but it’s just a closet. Moving onto the next, you’re half-expecting to find a bedroom, but instead, the door reveals a marble-clad bathroom, which is more of a private spa than anything else, with a deep soaking tub and a rain shower that beckons with promises of relaxation.

Finally, you reach the last door, and as you push it open, your breath catches in your throat. The bedroom is vast, with high ceilings and draped curtains, but amidst all the space, the luxury, the sheer grandeur…

There is only one bed.

It’s massive, adorned in rich, inviting linens that seem to promise the best sleep of your life. The headboard is a work of art, appearing as if it was carved by hand, its craftsmanship impeccable. But despite all its luxury, one glaring fact stands out—it’s a single bed.

A bed meant for two.

You stop in your tracks, staring at the bed in disbelief. Your mind races, trying to make sense of the situation. Did you miss a door? Could there be another bedroom somewhere in the suite?

Without thinking, you begin to backtrack, your footsteps hurried and purposeful. You retrace your steps through the suite, opening doors you’ve already been through, peering inside with a growing sense of urgency.

The bathroom—no, just the spa-like marble bath and rain shower. The closet—no, just storage. The living area—no, just the oversized sofa and elegant chairs. The dining area—no, just the table set for two and the sleek bar.

Where’s the other bedroom? There has to be another one, right? How can a suite this big, only have one bed?

Is this a cruel joke? A final twist of the knife in an already unbearable night? Is the universe pushing you further out of your comfort zone, testing the limits of your patience, your composure, and your control?

Your movements grow more frantic as you circle back, convinced you must have overlooked something, anything. But there’s nothing else. It’s just that one, luxurious bed, waiting for the two of you.

Scanning the suite one last time, you notice Satoru sitting nonchalantly on the plush couch, leaning back with one arm draped casually over the back of the sofa. He loosens his tie as he tilts his head, watching you with a mixture of confusion and mild amusement.

“What are you looking for?”

You stop dead in your tracks, your breath hitching as you stare at him in disbelief.

“There’s only one bed.”

Perhaps vocalizing the absurdity of this precarious situation might somehow conjure a second bed out of thin air.

Oh, you wish.

Satoru blinks and raises an eyebrow. Without a word, he slowly rises from the couch and walks towards the bedroom. Once he steps inside, he takes in the sight of the massive bed and the luxurious linens—staring at it for a moment as the situation sits in.

Then, he turns to you, with an exaggerated shrug.

“Huh. Looks like the hotel’s playing matchmaker tonight.”

…

You narrow your eyes at him, not speaking, letting the flicker of annoyance smolder into a flame. The corners of your mouth tighten, and your arms cross defensively over your chest.

Satoru matches your silence, watching you with an unreadable expression, and then he shrugs again, the movement casual, almost dismissive.

“What?” carrying a note of faux innocence. “They probably figured we wouldn’t mind getting cozy. We are husband and wife, after all. Of course they wouldn’t think we’d need separate beds.”

He’s not making this any better for you right now…

You shake your head, rubbing your eyes in exasperation as if trying to rub away the absurdity of the situation. It’s all too much—the storm, the delay, the night that refuses to end. You can feel the weight of it pressing down on you, and each word from Satoru just seems to add another layer to the frustration.

“Wow…this is unbelievable,” you huff.

“Mm, you know what they say, nothing like sharing a bed to break the tension,” Satoru quips, plopping down at the edge of the bed as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. He bounces slightly, testing the mattress, and glances up at you with a glint in his eye. “Well, I suppose this is where we’re supposed to start arguing over who gets the left side?”

…

Is he serious right now?

You can hardly believe it—the casualness of his demeanor, the way he seems completely unconcerned about the reality of this situation. It is almost infuriating.

“This is not happening…I am not sharing a bed with you,” you say, more to yourself than to him, a whispered mix of disbelief and determination. You cross your arms tightly over your chest.

But Satoru just leans back on his hands, completely unbothered, his relaxed posture a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside you. Tilting his head slightly, he flashes you an easy grin.

“Hey, it could be worse,” he says with a nonchalant shrug, patting the space beside him. “At least it’s a king-size. I mean, we could practically build a wall down the middle if you want.”

You stare at him, incredulous.

How can he be so flippant about this? So completely unconcerned, so utterly unaffected by everything that’s happened tonight?

Every word that comes out of his mouth further makes your patience slip through your fingers.

“…are you serious right now?” there is a tremble in your voice as you attempt to keep your frustration in check, but it’s a losing battle.

“Yup,” he shrugs, completely unfazed. “Looks like it’s just you, me, and this king-sized dilemma.”

Wow. You’re standing in the middle of a situation that has gone from bad to worse, and he’s making jokes? The disbelief turns into something hotter, something sharper, as you feel the last remnants of your composure start to crumble.

“Are you kidding me, Satoru?” you snap and the frustration you’ve been holding back all night finally spills over. “You are absolutely unbelievable. This isn’t funny! None of this is fucking funny! We’re stuck here, and you’re making jokes?”

The playful smirk that had been dancing on Satoru's lips vanishes instantly, replaced by a look of irritation. He leans forward, fixing you with a hard stare, and the lightheartedness drains from his posture as his elbows rest on his knees.

“Oh, okay, I’m sorry,” he retorts, a sharp edge to his voice. “Y’know, I was just trying to lighten the mood. Didn’t realize you were going to blow up at me for trying to make the best out of a bad situation.”

“Lighten the mood?” you echo, your voice rising in disbelief. “Do you really think that’s what I need right now?”

A scoff escapes your lips as all your frustration bubbles to the surface. The weight of everything finally presses down on you, and his indifference feels like a slap in the face.

You can’t even look at him right now.

With a dismissive shake of your head, you turn away, briskly stepping towards the living room.

“You just don’t get it, do you?” you mutter under your breath, the words more to yourself than to him, but loud enough that you know he can hear.

“What don’t I get?” Satoru challenges, his voice growing sharper as he pushes off the bed and follows after you. His footsteps are clipped as he closes the distance between you, not willing to let the conversation drop. “What don’t I get, y/n? Tell me.”

You whirl around to face him, your heart pounding in your chest, the tension crackling like electricity.

“Satoru—Haru needs me, and we’re stuck here, miles away, in some fancy hotel suite. But you don’t even care.”

The accusation slips out and you can no longer hide the mix of anger and hurt that laces your voice. Satoru’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching as he tries to rein in his own frustration.

“You think I don’t care?” his voice is sharp, insistent, almost incredulous as he steps closer. “You think I’m not worried about Haru too? y/n we literally had this conversation in the limo earlier. Jesus, just because I don’t show my emotions like you it doesn’t mean I don’t care. I hate this situation just as much as you do, but it’s not like I can control the weather or the roads!”

The intensity of his words strikes you, but the anger simmering beneath your skin refuses to let you back down.

“Yeah, well, if you really cared, we would have left as soon as the storm started, like I wanted! Then we wouldn’t even be in this situation!” your trembling voice increases an octave and you throw your hands up in exasperation. “But no—you had to stay for that last part of the gala, didn’t you?”

Satoru’s reaction is immediate. He runs a hand through his hair, the movement rough and frustrated while a bitter laugh escapes his lips, one that sends a chill down your spine. His eyes flash with something darker as he glares at you.

“Oh, so now it’s my fault that we’re stuck here? Because I stayed for the speech? I had obligations, y/n! I couldn’t just leave!”

“Obligations?” the word drips with sarcasm as it leaves your lips, your voice thick with disbelief and a touch of something more, something wounded. You narrow your eyes and the anger within flares hotter as you shoot a glare back at him. “We could’ve left earlier, but instead you just had to be the perfect ‘Satoru Gojo.’ Your precious image, your obligations—everything always comes first, doesn’t it?”

A flash of anger sparks within the depths of Satoru’s eyes, and his voice drops lower, more measured, with an edge that makes your heart jump.

“You knew what you were signing up for,” the words are clipped and his tone is cold and biting. “I told you there would be expectations, that there would be obligations that came with this agreement. Don’t act like this is some surprise to you.”

His words hit their mark, the truth in them sinking in like a stone dropping into a deep well. The realization settles over you, heavy and cold.

Oh…this truly is just a business arrangement, nothing more.

This is…what you agreed to…isn’t it?

For a brief moment, you had almost forgotten that this marriage—this life you’ve been trying to build—wasn’t real. It was never based on love or trust or any of the things you’d once dreamed of. It has always been a contract, an arrangement, and you were just another piece in the game he was playing.

You feel the sharp, unmistakable sting of hurt, a wound that cuts deeper than you anticipated. And with that hurt comes regret—regret for allowing yourself to believe, even for a second, that he might be willing to take a leap of faith for you, for Haru.

You should have known better.

He’s Satoru Gojo, after all, the man who holds his obligations and his image above everything else. The man who never allows himself to be vulnerable, to be anything other than perfect in the eyes of the world.

“So that’s it, then?” the words slip out with a quiet tremor, your voice breaking slightly under the crushing weight of your emotions “You’ll always put your commitments first, no matter what? No matter how it affects us? No matter how it affects Haru?”

For the briefest of moments, Satoru’s expression softens, a flicker of regret passing through his eyes, as if he’s momentarily aware of the pain his words have caused.

You can feel the tears burning at the back of your eyes, but you blink them away, refusing to let them fall. You won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing how much his words have cut you, how deeply the reminder of your place in his life stings.

Instead, you draw in a shaky breath, steeling yourself, and forcing your voice to steady. It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep your composure, to keep from breaking in front of him.

“It’s always about your image…isn’t it?” you whisper, the words barely audible, but they carry the weight of your realization, heavy and bitter. “I thought… maybe just once, you’d be willing to choose something else. Someone else. Guess I was wrong.”

The silence that follows is suffocating, thick with the tension that has built up between you. Satoru opens his mouth to respond, his expression shifting as if he’s searching for the right words, but you’ve already had enough. The frustration, the anger, the hurt—it’s all too much, too overwhelming, and honestly, you don’t think you can take the weight of his inevitable rejection right now.

Before he can say anything, before he can shatter whatever fragile composure you have left, you turn on your heel and stride towards the suite’s balcony.

ꨄ︎

The moment you step out onto the balcony, the cold night air wraps around you, but you welcome its icy embrace, and as the heavy door slides shut behind you with a dull thud, it seals off any lingering warmth from the hotel suite, leaving you alone with the elements.

The balcony, partially sheltered by a gazebo, offers little protection from the fierce wind driving the rain sideways. But as the droplets hit your skin, cold and sharp, you don’t flinch. Instead, you let the rain wash over you, soaking into your dress and chilling you to the bone, as if the cold might somehow numb the emotional turmoil raging inside you.

Gripping the railing, you stare out at the city below, the wind whipping around you, tugging at your dress as the storm batters you from all sides. But the physical discomfort barely registers—it's nothing compared to the storm brewing within. Because now, the anger that had fueled your argument with Satoru begins to ebb, giving way to a deep, aching sadness that you can no longer hold back.

You sink down onto one of the chairs, ignoring the fact that the cushion is already soaked through. The wet fabric clings to your skin as you huddle there, pulling your knees up to your chest, and as you take in the downpour, you allow the rain to mingle with the tears that finally begin to slip down your cheeks.

If only the howling wind was loud enough to drown the thoughts swirling in your mind.

But it’s not.

The first thing you hear is Naoya’s words, echoing in your ears. His cruel taunts, sharp and insidious, have haunted you ever since your encounter at the coffee shop—a seed of doubt planted deep within you.

And now, those seeds have taken root, growing in the shadows of your heart, feeding off your insecurities until they’ve become impossible to ignore. Maybe he was right all along… you don’t belong beside Satoru. This life you agreed to—this carefully crafted facade—it has always been a deal, nothing more. A deal struck for reasons that now seem distant and blurred.

And then there’s Satoru.

The man you’ve grown closer to, despite everything. The man who, on occasion, looks at you with a softness that seems almost out of place, a trust that makes your heart ache under the weight of your own secrets… and your own growing feelings. But tonight, you saw the bitter reality of who he truly is—a reality that you’ve always known, yet somehow tried to push aside. It’s a reality that places duty and obligation above all else, that keeps his heart locked away behind walls you know you’ll never breach.

You understand it, you really do. But understanding doesn’t make it any easier to bear. It doesn’t make the hurt go away.

You think about Haru—your sweet, innocent child, who’s at home right now, likely scared and alone, flinching with every crash of thunder.

The thought of her, small and frightened, tugs at your heart, and the guilt twists inside you, sharper than any blade. It cuts through your defenses until all that remains is the raw, unrelenting pain of a mother’s worry, a mother’s fear. You should be there with her, holding her close, whispering reassurances that everything is going to be okay, that the storm will pass.

But you’re not.

You’re here, drenched on a balcony, struggling to hold yourself together while everything around you falls apart. And that reality—knowing you’ve left her to face the storm alone—makes the tears fall harder now.

They stream down your face, mixing with the rain, until you can’t tell where one ends and the other begins. The sobs come, wracking your body with their intensity, as you bury your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking with the force of your grief.

It’s all too much—the pressure, the expectations, the lies, the fear.

And then there’s the love.

The love that’s beginning to bloom for Satoru, despite the circumstances…and it only makes it more complicated, more painful. It’s a love that you know you shouldn’t feel, that you’re terrified to acknowledge—and it wraps itself around your heart like a thorny vine, beautiful yet painful, tightening its grip with every passing day.

And your worries never end—the contract, the obligations, the appearances you have to maintain. This agreement that had once seemed so clear, so necessary, but now feels like a chain around your neck, binding you to a life that’s growing more and more suffocating by the day.

You didn’t sign up for this, not really.

You didn’t sign up for the way your heart had started to beat in sync with Satoru’s, for the way his touch lingers on your skin long after he’s gone, or the way his voice is capable of soothing the deepest parts of your soul.

But here you are—trapped, ensnared by duty and honor, by a love that’s growing despite the walls you’ve tried to build around it. A love for a man who might never fully understand the depth of the sacrifice you’re making.

A man who will never love you back the way you wish he would, or put you first.

You continue to cry as the storm proceeds to rage against you, both inside and out—but you hope that maybe this rain will wash away some of the pain, some of the doubts, some of the fear.

Ah… but you know better. Because once this storm passes, the reality of your situation will still be there, waiting for you.

The contract, the expectations, the life you’ve chosen, and the choices you must make—none of it will disappear, no matter how much you wish it could. And despite how much you long to rid yourself of this burden, the love you’re beginning to feel for Satoru…that too, will remain, complicating everything in ways you’re not sure you’re ready to face.

The sound of the sliding door opening barely registers in your mind, lost in the cacophony of the storm as you remain huddled on the chair, lost in your thoughts. You don’t look up, not even when you sense his presence behind you—the presence of that familiar warmth, one that has the potential to cut through the cold that’s seeped into your bones.

Why is he here? You can’t bear it.

He stands there for a moment, silently taking in the sight of you curled up on the chair, small and vulnerable against the fury of the storm, and then, with a resolve that seems almost fragile, he steps forward.

The rain immediately begins to soak through his clothes, just as it did yours, and slowly, he kneels beside you, his movements careful, almost hesitant, as if he’s afraid that any sudden motion might shatter what little composure you have left.

“y/n,” he says softly, voice almost lost in the storm, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

You can’t bring yourself to respond—the words are trapped in your throat, tangled in the rush of emotions his apology stirs within you. Confusion, sorrow, a desperate yearning for things to be different—they all swirl within you, too intense, too raw to process.

The pain is overwhelming, and right now, you can’t even bring yourself to look at him. You’re terrified of what you might see in his eyes. What would you feel if you looked at him now?

You’re too scared to find out.

Satoru seems to sense your hesitation, your fear. His hand reaches out, and you feel the gentle pressure of his fingers on your shoulder, tentative and light, as if he’s afraid you might pull away. But you don��t. There’s a warmth in his touch, something that defies the cold rain soaking through both of you—a warmth that, despite everything, makes you want to lean into it, to draw strength from it.

“y/n, please…” his voice drops quieter, almost pleading. “Look at me.”

His request hangs in the air, and for a moment, you feel as if time has stopped.

Why is this so hard? Why can’t you accept that this is nothing more than a contract, an arrangement born out of necessity rather than love?

His touch fills you with a bittersweetness that is almost unbearable—a longing that you know is not realistic, that you know you shouldn’t entertain. But the plea in his voice, the vulnerability you hear in those simple words, chips away at your resolve.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, you lift your tear-streaked face to meet his gaze. The rain has flattened his usually neat hair against his forehead, and his clothes are drenched, clinging to him, but it’s his eyes that hold you captive. Because once your eyes finally connect, the world around you seems to fade into the background, the storm reduced to a distant hum.

His usually composed, confident expression is different now—eyes, softened by regret, vulnerability, and that same softness that has been tearing you apart since the moment he became deeply intertwined in your life.

It's that same softness you’ve tried to ignore, that you’ve convinced yourself was nothing more than an illusion, but that still holds an undeniable power over you.

“I’m sorry…” he repeats, voice trembling with an underlying thickness, as if he’s struggling to keep his emotions in check. “I didn’t mean for it to be like this. I never wanted to make you feel like Haru doesn’t matter to me, like you don’t matter.”

Your head shakes almost involuntarily, tears continuing to fall, mingling with the rain. Denial wraps around your heart like a protective shield, reminding you that this man doesn’t love you, that you cannot—will not—get your hopes up. You’ve been down this road before, and you know better than to believe in things that aren’t real.

But Satoru’s eyes soften even more as he reads the pain in your expression, and without a word, his other hand comes up to cup your cheek. His touch is warm against your cold, rain-soaked skin, and he gently brushes away the tears that mingle with the rain on your face—a touch so tender that it almost breaks you all over again.

“I really fucked up tonight…” he sighs, his breath hitching slightly as the words escape him. “I’m so sorry for that. Please… let me make things right.”

You can feel the conflict within you, your heart warring with your mind, urging you to push him away, to protect yourself from the pain that seems inevitable. You can’t afford to give yourself hope—not when the risk of being shattered again looms so large, so close.

“Look… I’m really not good at this. I’m not used to… letting people in,” he admits, his voice faltering slightly as he grapples with his own vulnerability and inadequacy. “But with you, I want to try. That’s why…”

He pauses, taking a deep breath, the sound shaky as he gathers the courage to say what’s weighing on his heart.

“I need you to know that everything I said during the interview tonight… it wasn’t just for show. I wasn’t saying what I thought people wanted to hear.”

Your breath catches at his words and your heart pounds furiously within your chest. The weight of his words and the sincerity in his eyes makes it impossible to look away.

“Those were my real feelings, y/n. When they asked me what drew me to you… I meant every word.”

Your body begins to tremble, a shuddering wave of emotion crashing over you like the relentless storm around you, threatening to pull you under. The tears begin welling up again and you feel yourself unraveling at the seams.

“Don’t do this, Satoru,” you plead, voice cracking with the weight of your fear. You bring your hands up instinctively, as if to shield yourself from the intensity of his words, to create some distance between you. “Don’t say these things… I can’t… I can’t handle being hurt again.”

For a moment, Satoru hesitates, his eyes searching yours, but then, with a gentle yet determined motion, he takes your trembling hands into his own and the warmth of his touch seeps into your cold skin. Slowly, he lowers your hands onto your lap, his grip firm but tender.

“No, let me say this,” he insists, his voice steadying, becoming more resolute, though it’s still laced with a gentleness. “You deserve to hear it. You deserve to know how I really feel.”

His thumb begins to stroke the back of your hand and his gaze softens as he searches your face. There is an earnest tenderness within the depths of his expression, and it makes your heart ache.

“You’ve brought something into my life that I didn’t even know I was missing,” Satoru continues, “You’ve made me feel… grounded, in a way that I’ve never felt before.”

There is a raw honesty in his eyes, one that begins to erode the walls you’ve built around your heart. You feel your resolve crumbling, piece by piece, as his words chip away at the fear and doubt that has kept you from fully opening up to him.

“I’m not perfect,” his voice wavers slightly and his hand tightens around yours, seeking reassurance even as he offers it. “Far from it… but you’ve made me realize that’s okay. And now, because of you, I want to do better, to be better… not just for you, but for Haru too. And for myself.”

What is he saying?

Your breath hitches, a small, involuntary gasp escaping your lips as you process his words.

“I’m… confused,” you whisper, your mind racing to catch up with your heart. “Isn’t this… just a contract?”

“Yeah…well…” a wry smile tugs at the corner of his lips, though his eyes remain serious. “Guess I broke the clause, huh? So much for no emotional entanglements…”

Your breath catches again, this time in realization.

Wait… he feels the same way? This is really happening?

The realization hits you like a wave—the truth of it crashing over you, leaving you breathless, and you can’t stop the fresh surge of tears from falling down your face.

Satoru’s brow furrows with worry, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features as he watches you cry. Leaning in closer, he rests his forehead gently against yours. His eyes search yours, desperate for some kind of response, some kind of reassurance that his words have reached you, that he hasn’t misread the situation.

“Please… don’t cry,” he whispers with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. He closes his eyes, breath warm as it fans across your face, and his hand, still holding yours, gives a gentle squeeze, as if to remind you that he’s here, that he’s not going anywhere.

“I… I want to believe you, Satoru,” you manage, voice trembling with the weight of your fears and doubts. “Believe everything you’re saying, but I’m so scared. What if I’m not enough? I don’t think I could survive that kind of heartbreak again…”

Satoru’s eyes open slowly, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

“You are enough, y/n. You’ve always been enough.”

There is a firmness in his resolve, as if he’s trying to engrave the words into your very being.

His free hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing away another tear that had escaped.

“And honestly… I’m scared too.” His voice drops even lower, almost a whisper now. “Trust is something I’ve never given lightly. But with you… I want to trust. I need to trust. And… I need you to trust me too.”

Trust—there’s that word again.

It lingers in the air between you, heavy with meaning, with all the complexities and the promises it holds.

Trust—It’s such a simple word, yet it carries the weight of a thousand unsaid things, a thousand fears, a thousand hopes. It’s the foundation of everything, isn’t it? The one thing you’ve always struggled with, the one thing that has kept you from fully letting go, from fully giving yourself to him—or to anyone, for that matter.

Trust—It’s what you’ve been afraid to place in someone else’s hands, for fear that they might not handle it with care. And why would they? After everything you’ve been through, after all the disappointments, the betrayals, the moments when you’ve been left to pick up the pieces of your shattered heart, why would you ever trust again?

But… maybe trust isn’t about being certain, about knowing for sure that everything will turn out alright. Maybe… it’s about taking that leap of faith, about being willing to risk the hurt because the potential for something real, something meaningful, is worth it.

You look at him, really look at him—his usually confident demeanor is stripped away, leaving only the man beneath, exposed and uncertain, yet somehow more real than you’ve ever seen him.

This is… Satoru.

In that moment, something shifts within you.

Ah… perhaps trust isn’t something you just give; it’s something you build, together, piece by piece, moment by moment. And maybe… as terrifying as it is, you’re ready to start building that with him.

The realization hits you like a warm rush, spreading through your chest and making your heart ache in a way that’s both painful and beautiful. You want to tell him, to find the words that will let him know that you want this too. But the emotions are too overwhelming, too all-consuming, and you find yourself at a loss, unable to articulate the flood of feelings coursing through you.

So instead, you do the only thing you can—you decide to show him.

Your hands move on their own, driven by an urgency you can’t contain. Grasping the collar of his shirt, your fingers curl into the wet fabric, pulling him closer with a force that leaves no room for hesitation. The distance between you disappears in one desperate, crashing motion as you bring your lips to his.

It’s a fierce kiss, filled with a force that’s as much an admission as it is an apology—an admission of your own feelings, of the vulnerabilities you’ve tried so hard to hide, and an apology for every moment you’ve tried to protect yourself by pushing him away.

The intensity of your need is met by Satoru’s immediate response, his arms wrapping around you with a fervency that matches the storm raging around you, pulling you flush against him as if he’s afraid you might slip away.

The rain soaks through your clothes, but all you can focus on is the heat of his skin, the way his mouth moves against yours with a need that’s as insistent as it is consuming. You swallow the low, desperate moan that escapes from him, the sound vibrating through you, sending a shiver down your spine.

God, you wanted this.

His tongue grazes your lower lip, seeking entry, and without hesitation, you part your lips for him, allowing him to deepen the kiss even further, kissing you as though you’re the very air he needs to breathe. Once his tongue meets yours, the sensation is electric, sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body.

God, he wanted this.

He’s losing himself in the kiss, like he’s been holding back for far too long, and now that he’s tasted you, he can’t get enough. And you let him, wrapping your legs around him and allowing him to lift you up with ease as you thread your fingers through his damp hair. He doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t falter, as he carries you toward the balcony door, sure and driven by a need that can no longer be contained.

With a swift motion, he presses you against the glass door. The cold rain continues to hammer down, but you’re barely aware of it—there is a fire that seems to burn hotter with every second your lips remain locked, and you are lost in the sensation of his hands gripping into the plush of your thighs, holding you firmly in place.

“Satoru…” you gasp between kisses, and the sound of your breathless voice drives him further into the depths of his desire.

“Fuck… could get used to hearing you say m’ name like that,” he groans, mouth dropping to your neck, lips tracing the line of your jaw before pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your throat.

You arch your back and tilt your head, allowing him access, but the sudden sensation of his hips pressing against your core causes a whimper to escape your lips.

Fuck. You now realize just how much he wanted this. The hardness pressed against you is unmistakable and that alone heightens your own desire, making a tingling heat begin to pool in between your legs.

Your hands slide down his back, nails digging slightly into his skin beneath the wet fabric of his shirt, and you press your hips forward, seeking more of that friction, and he responds with a low growl rumbling from deep within his chest as he begins to grind against you.

“Fucking hell…” he rasps, voice thick with desperation, “you have no idea,” he whimpers, breath hitching as his lips brush against your ear, “no fucking idea…” he grinds harder, with renewed intensity, “how much I’ve wanted this…” his eyes flutter shut, lost in the sensation, “how much I want you…”

Every nerve ignites as an intense heat courses through you.

Fuck. This is bad. This is really bad.

You’re losing any trace of reasoning; you’re lacking any semblance of control. How can you think straight when he talks to you like that? When he touches you like this?

You can’t. It’s impossible.

This is moving really fast, and every coherent thought is slipping away, replaced by the overwhelming need for him, the need to feel every inch of him against you, inside you. You’re losing yourself in the way his body moves against yours, in the way his voice trembles with need.

“Satoru… I—” you start, but the words catch in your throat, choked off by that delicious sensation of him shifting his hips, pressing harder against you in just that right spot. “I can’t… fuck. I can’t think when you’re like this…”

“Don’t think,” he murmurs against your skin. “Just feel… let me take care of you…”

And then he’s kissing you again, his mouth claiming yours with a hunger that makes your head spin. Oh, fuck it, you don’t care. You don’t care about anything else in this moment.

In one swift motion, without breaking the kiss, he carries you away from the rain, and into the warmth of the suite. His steps are quick and determined until he reaches the bedroom, and once he sets you down your feet barely touch the floor before his hands are on you again.

The urgency in his touch is undeniable, frantic as his hands begin to work at the wet fabric of your dress, peeling it away with determination.

Oh god, this is really moving fast.

The realization hits you like a wave, but it’s quickly drowned out by the sight of him shrugging off his shirt, letting it fall to the floor. And once you catch sight of his toned muscles, the way they flex beneath his skin, how can you think straight?

You can’t.

Your hands move instinctively, reaching for him, running over his chest, savoring the warmth, the strength beneath your fingertips, and his hands are equally on you, exploring your body with a reverence while his mouth moves against yours with fervor.

“You’re so fucking pretty, so beautiful…” he breaks the kiss, “I can’t get enough of you…” and then his mouth is on yours again, desperate and hungry, leaving you breathless.

He guides you towards the bed, and once the back of your knees hit the edge of it, he gives you a gentle but insistent push. His body follows and once the mattress dips slightly under your combined weight, you’re suddenly hyperaware of everything—the way his hands are sliding down your sides, the way his lips are tracing a path from your collarbone to the swell of your breasts, the way he settles between your legs.

This is moving way…way too fast.

You need a moment to think, but your mind is constantly drowned out by the feel of his body against yours.

“Satoru…” you murmur against his lips, “Please I—” But before you can finish, he’s kissing you again, his mouth claiming yours with a fierceness that makes your heart skip a beat.

Your breath hitches as he begins to rock his hips against your clothed core, the friction sending jolts of pleasure through you while you gasp into his mouth. Before you realize what you’re doing, your legs are wrapping around his waist, pulling him closer, deepening the connection between you.

Damnit, that delicious friction is all-consuming, and you can’t stop yourself from arching into him.

“Ever since that night at the gala…” he murmurs against your skin, his lips trailing down the curve of your neck, “After we kissed, I haven’t been able to think about anything else… anyone else… just you.”

His words send a shiver down your spine. Fucking hell, he’s not making this easy. The way his breath hitches as he presses kisses along your collarbone, it’s clear he’s barely holding on to his own control. And you? You’re already starting to lose yours.

Fuck, he will ruin you.

“All I could think about was how it felt to kiss you… how much I wanted to do it again… how much I wanted more…” his breath hot against your skin as his hands grip your hips, pulling you even closer.

“I can’t… I need… oh god…” the words slip out, a desperate plea mixed with a moan as the sensation of him rolling his length against that sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs becomes almost unbearable.

Fuck… the pleasure is so intense, so overwhelming, that your vision blurs, your world narrowing to nothing but the feel of him, the heat of his body, the way he’s moving against you.

You’re seeing stars.

“What is it?” he whispers against the shell of your ear, and oh he sounds so fucking undone by you, as if he’s on the verge of losing control. “Tell me… tell me what you need baby.”

His words are like gasoline on the fire burning inside you. Damnit, you need him. But you also need time to process everything that is happening. As much as you want to give in, as much as your body is screaming for more of him, a tiny voice in the back of your mind is telling you to slow down, to think.

There is still so much that has been left unsaid…things you need to get off your chest.

“Satoru…” you whisper, your voice shaky as you thread your fingers through his hair, gently pulling him back just enough to look into his eyes. His gaze is intense, dark with desire, and it takes every ounce of your self-control not to lose yourself in it. “Can we… can we take it slow?”

His body stills, and for a moment, the intensity in his eyes softens. He’s still breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling, but he nods slowly, as if he’s trying to rein in his own overwhelming need.

He leans in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, his hands sliding from your hips to cradle your face gently. The kiss is different now, less urgent but still filled with an undeniable passion that leaves you breathless. It’s a slow burn, a simmering heat that makes your skin tingle as his lips move tenderly against yours, savoring every moment.

The kiss tapers off naturally, his lips lingering on yours as if he’s reluctant to let go. When he finally pulls back, he doesn’t move far, his nose brushing against yours in a tender nuzzle that makes you smile.

“Yeah… okay…” he breathes out, voice rough and tinged with longing. “We can slow down… whatever you need…”

His fingers trace the line of your jaw, moving to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch light, almost reverent.

“Sorry it’s just…” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your lower lip before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple, then your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. Each kiss is gentle. He pulls back slightly, his lips ghosting over yours as he whispers, “You don’t know what you do to me…”

Your heart swells at his words, and you can’t help the smile that tugs at your lips. “I think I’m starting to figure it out,” you softly chuckle.

Satoru mirrors your smile and lets out a soft laugh.

“Well... it’s about damn time you caught on.”

He plops down beside you, pulling you into his arms with an ease that makes your heart flutter. as if being this close to you is the most natural thing in the world. He buries his face into the nape of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply, a content hum leaving his lips as he wraps himself around you, tangling his legs with yours and pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you. The warmth of his body seeps into yours, and you can feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against you.

“Was starting to think I’d have to spell it out for you,” he murmurs, breath fanning your skin, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

A light and airy laugh escapes your lips as you become engrossed in his warmth.

“Well, I mean... you’ve always been a bit of a mystery,” you tease, your fingers tracing idle patterns on the back of his hand where it rests against your stomach.

“Hmm, a mystery, huh?” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, sending a ripple of warmth through you. “Maybe… but I think you’ve always had the key, even if you didn’t know it.”

You turn slightly in his arms, bringing a hand up to gently run your fingers through his hair, the soft strands slipping through your fingers like silk as you gaze into his eyes. Your heart swells at the way he leans into your touch, as if he savors each trace of you, and there’s a tenderness in the way his eyes hold yours.

And then, his lips curl into a wry smile, mischief dancing in his eyes.

“Mm… told you you’d fall for my charm. Though I will say, you were a tough one to crack.”

You try to fight the smile threatening to break free as a warmth spreads across your face. It’s crazy to think this man was once the bane of your very existence.

“Tch…you have a way of growing on people, y’know that?” The grin on his face widens at your admission, making the heat in your own face intensify. You huff, rolling your eyes as you nudge him lightly with your elbow. “You’re like a persistent, overly confident weed.”

Satoru laughs. “A weed, huh? That’s a new one,” he sounds mock-offended, though his smirk tells you he’s anything but. His hand shifts, trailing up and down your arm tenderly as his fingers lightly brush your skin. “Mmm let's see…I think I’m more like a rare, exotic flower.”

“Oh please,” you scoff, eyes sparkling with amusement. “You’re more like those persistent kind of weeds that pops up in the cracks of the sidewalk, no matter how many times you try to get rid of them.”

“Persistent, huh? Well I suppose I’ll take that as a compliment,” his tone softens as his hand trails down your arm, the warmth of his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake until his fingers find yours, threading them together as he interlocks your hands in a gentle, but secure grasp.

“Guess I’ll just have to keep growing on you until you can’t imagine your life without me,” he murmurs—thumb gently stroking the back of your hand—and your breath hitches at the sincerity in his words.

Satoru treats you like a treasure, something to be cherished and protected.

How did you get so lucky?

He’s everything Naoya isn’t—everything you’ve ever wanted but were too afraid to hope for.

But even as the realization crosses your mind, a pang of guilt twists in your chest. You’ve been keeping something from him, something important, something that could change everything. Naoya’s scheme, his attempts to ruin Satoru’s reputation… it’s been eating away at you, gnawing at your conscience every time Satoru looks at you with those warm, trusting eyes.

But the thought terrifies you—what if it changes everything? What if it drives a wedge between you?

You need to tell him. He deserves to know.

No secrets.

You can’t keep hiding the truth. Not if you want to move forward, not if you want to build something real with him.

“Hey,” you begin softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you pull back slightly to look into his eyes. The tenderness in his gaze gives you the strength to continue. “There’s something I need to tell you… something important.”

Satoru’s expression shifts immediately from the seriousness of your tone, his brow knitting together in concern as his eyes dim.

“What is it?”

Oh fuck. This is it. No backing down now.

You take a deep breath, and though your heart pounds in your chest, Satoru’s gentle grip tightens on your hand, offering you the silent support to continue.

“It’s about Naoya…” you begin, voice trembling slightly as you hesitantly hold his gaze.

The tension in Satoru's face is subtle but unmistakable. You briefly catch sight of his jaw tightening, a muscle jumping beneath the skin at the mere mention of Naoya’s name. Swallowing hard, your throat constricts with effort as you struggle to find the right words.

“There’s… something I’ve been keeping from you… and I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but I was scared. I didn’t know what to do.”

Satoru’s eyes widen just a fraction, his brows drawing together slightly in concern, but he remains silent—he doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t demand an explanation. Instead, he watches you intently, his gaze locked onto yours, a silent encouragement to continue.

But that intensity in his focus only makes your heart pound harder in your chest, each beat a drum of anxiety.

Here goes nothing.

“He’s been… blackmailing me,” you confess, eyes falling to the side, unable to hold his gaze. “He’s trying to ruin your reputation, to drag your name through the mud…and if I don’t do what he says…”

The words die on your lips as you trail off.

Fuck this is overwhelming.

This entire night has been a rollercoaster, and you’re reaching the breaking point of your own emotional endurance. You expect Satoru to say something, but the silence that follows is deafening.

Each beat of your heart is like a hammer in your chest, and your mind is racing with a thousand different fears.

Is he angry? Is he waiting for you to look at him? Is this it? Is this the moment everything falls apart?

Summoning every ounce of courage you have left, you will yourself to look up, to meet Satoru’s eyes. And yes, there’s anger simmering in the depths of his gaze, a dangerous edge to it, but there’s something else too—something softer.

“What will happen if you don’t do what he says?” he asks, voice gentle yet firm. His thumb brushes soothing circles on the back of your hand with a tenderness, urging you to continue. “What exactly is he threatening you with?”

You take a deep, shaky breath, feeling the lump in your throat swell as you struggle to push the words out.

“He’s trying to take Haru away from me… he’s threatening to file for full custody if I don’t cooperate.”

The impact of your words is immediate—Satoru’s entire demeanor changing in an instant.

His expression hardens, the fury in his eyes flaring to life, unmistakable and searing, and his entire body tenses beside you. A shiver rakes down your spine when you hear the low and dangerous promise slip through his lips.

“He’s going to regret this.”

Before you can even process his words, he pulls you onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you with a fierce protectiveness that catches you off guard. It is almost startling how the gentle way he holds you is juxtaposed with the anger simmering just beneath the surface, and as his fingers begin to thread through your hair while he cradles you close to him, you feel he is shielding you from the very world that threatens to tear you apart.

“He’s not taking Haru from you,” Satoru vows, voice unwavering, a promise etched in steel. “Not over my dead body.”

Ah…the conviction in his voice—the words you needed to hear—it is your breaking point. Finally, everything crashes down on you. The fear, the guilt, the overwhelming relief that you’re no longer carrying this burden alone—it all hits you at once, and you can’t hold back the quiet sob that escapes your lips.

Satoru tightens his hold on you, one hand gently stroking your hair, the other trailing up and down your trembling frame as he whispers reassurances.

“Hey, it’s okay… we’re going to get through this.”

His heartbeat is a steady and comforting rhythm beneath your ear. You nod weakly as a shaky breath escapes your lips, the sound muffled against his chest, and he presses a kiss to the top of your head, lips lingering for a moment.

“When did this all begin?” he whispers, fingers gently massaging your scalp.

“Two days ago…” you murmur, “right before you agreed to watch Haru for me.”

There’s a moment of silence, a brief pause as Satoru processes your words. You feel the subtle hitch in his breath, the soft exhale that follows as he tries to contain the emotions swirling inside him. He pulls back just enough to look at you, and your heart drops at his expression.

“y/n…” he breathes out, low and thick with emotion as his jaw clenches with tension. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

The ache in your chest is unbearable, and the tears begin to prick at your eyes again. Unable to face the underlying look of his own disappointment, you instinctively look away.

“I was scared and confused… I didn’t think you felt the same way about me,” you admit, voice barely above a whisper. “And I kept thinking about our contract…about your condition…”

Satoru’s body softens underneath you as he gently tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, and what you find there isn’t disappointment, but understanding—a deep, unwavering understanding that cuts through your doubts like a beacon of light in the darkness.

“y/n, there is no contract when it comes to how I feel about you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing away a lingering tear that slipped down your cheek. “That contract… it was just a piece of paper. Besides, it’s void now because I broke the clause.” His lips curve into a soft, reassuring smile. “What I feel for you… it’s real. And it’s not something that can be defined by a contract.”

His words are like a balm to your wounded heart, soothing the fear that had been gnawing at you.

Why did you doubt him so much? Is it because this is a love you have only hoped for? But now it’s real—it’s yours.

A shaky exhale escapes your lips as you rest your forehead against his.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, voice trembling. “I should have told you sooner.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Satoru soothes, his hands moving up to cradle your face. “I understand why you were scared. But we’re in this together, okay? Naoya’s not going to win.”

His hands gently tilt your face upwards, and before you can respond, he leans in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. His lips move slowly, languidly against yours, savoring the moment, and you melt into the kiss, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart beneath your fingertips.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against yours once more, and you linger there in the aftermath, letting the warmth of his breath fan across your lips, the closeness between you wrapping around you like a cocoon. A content sigh escapes your lips as the tension from everything slowly ebbs away, and you lower yourself onto his chest as Satoru’s fingers gently trail up and down your back.

Finally, everything has been laid bare. No secrets. Just the two of you, connected in a way that feels unbreakable.

But then, Satoru shifts slightly beneath you, “You’re shivering,” he murmurs, voice laced with concern as his hand moves to gently rub your arm, trying to warm you up. “We were out in the rain for too long…”

You hadn’t even noticed—your focus had been so consumed by everything else. Now that the adrenaline of the moment has begun to fade, you realize how cold you are, and how you’re both still in your underwear. The chill from the rain has started to seep into your bones.

“You should take a warm bath, get comfortable,” Satoru suggests, loving but insistent as he brushes a few stray strands of wet hair away from your face, tucking them gently behind your ear. “It’s been a long day, and we have to wake up early to get home to Haru. You can go first. Go on, I’ll wait for you here.”

You nod, reluctantly pulling away from the warmth of his embrace as you make your way to the bathroom.

The hot water feels like a balm against your chilled skin, and you take your time, letting the warmth seep into your bones and soothe the lingering tension in your muscles. It’s a quiet, reflective moment—an opportunity to process everything that’s happened. As the steam rises around you, you feel the weight of the day slowly lift from your shoulders.

After finishing your bath, you slip into the comfortable pajamas the hotel provided and find yourself wrapped up cozily under the blankets in the bed, waiting for Satoru as he takes his turn getting cleaned up next. The room is quiet—the rain outside has finally settled down as the once insistent pattering is now reduced to a soft, comforting drum against the window. You let your eyes drift closed for a moment, savoring the tranquility and the subtle scent of Satoru that lingers on the pillow beside you.

Tonight, has been exhausting—so much has happened, and it’s a lot to take in.

When Satoru finally emerges from the bathroom, he is dressed in the comfortable hotel linens, hair slightly damp and tousled. He flashes you a tender smile, one that makes your heart skip a beat, and you can’t help but smile back, warmth spreading through you.

But instead of joining you in the bed as you would expect, you watch with growing curiosity as he makes his way towards the closet. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you tilt your head slightly, your brows knitting together in confusion.

“What are you doing?” you observe him gather extra blankets and pillows, tucking them under his arm.

Satoru glances over his shoulder, offering you a small, almost apologetic smile.

“I’m, uh… gonna sleep on the couch tonight,” he says casually, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You blink, taken aback by his words, and a frown tugs at your lips.

“Why? You don’t have to do that. The bed’s big enough for both of us.”

He hesitates, as if weighing his words carefully.

“Y/n,” he begins, low and rough, “Believe me, I really want to,” he lets out a sigh and scratches the back of his head. “You have… too much of an effect on me. I meant it when I said we could take things slow, but if I’m lying next to you, I don’t know if I can control myself.”

His admission sends a warm flush to your face, your heart skipping a beat at the honesty in his words. You see the tension in his shoulders, the way he’s struggling to do what he thinks is right, even though it’s clearly not what he wants.

“Satoru…” you begin, your voice softening as you start to sit up, but he shakes his head gently, cutting you off before you can say more.

“If you want to take it slow, it’s probably for the best I give us some space to figure things out without making it harder than it already is.”

Damnit, he is too cute for his own good.

For a moment, you’re tempted to tell him to stay, to ignore the rules you’ve set for yourself, to just give in to the pull between you. The warmth of his presence, the comfort of his touch—it’s all so inviting. But you can also see how much he’s trying to do right by you, to honor your wishes, even if it means sacrificing what he wants.

“Okay,” you say softly, your teeth gently grazing your bottom lip as you consider your next words, “but just know that although I want to go slow, it doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t mind… doing things with you.”

Satoru lets out a groan, closing his eyes briefly as if battling with himself.

“You’re not making this easy, you know that?”

“Mm… never said I would,” you challenge, a playful glint flickering in your eyes as a crooked grin tugs at your lips.

He chuckles, tinged with both amusement and exasperation.

“I swear you’re gonna be the death of me,” he mutters, shaking his head slightly, but the smile that accompanies his words is soft, filled with affection.

The two of you share a quiet laugh, soft and intimate, like a shared secret. As the laughter fades, a comfortable silence settles over you both. His gaze locks with yours, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. The intensity in his eyes, the way they darken with something deeper, makes your breath hitch.

“Goodnight, Satoru,” you murmur as you settle yourself back into the pillows.

“Goodnight, y/n,” his smile widens as his gaze lingers on you for a moment longer before he turns to leave the room. “If you need anything,” he adds, pausing at the door, “you know where to find me.”

As the door softly clicks shut behind him, you’re left alone in the dimly lit room—left to your thoughts.

Tomorrow holds so much for the both of you—decisions to be made, obstacles to overcome, and a new chapter in your lives to navigate together.

For the first time in what feels like forever, you don’t feel alone. The burden isn’t yours to carry anymore. The thought brings a sense of peace, a calm that wraps around you as you pull the blankets closer, cocooning yourself in their warmth.

There’s still so much left unresolved, and the threat of Naoya looms large. But tonight, as you drift off to sleep, all you can think about is the way Satoru looked at you, the promise in his eyes that you’ll face whatever comes next together.

And somehow, that alone makes everything seem a little less daunting.

hi hi, thank you all so much for your kind words with this fic and for sticking around. this chapter was a lot for me to write, and i really kept second guessing it tbh. i think bc it's such a pivotal point in the story and it's pretty emotional, so i really wanna thank my lovely beta readers for helping me 💕 (@strychnynegirl & @gojoslefttoenail) hmm... who is this mysterious man that approached y/n at the gala? 🤔 i wonder if you guys can take a guess based on the description 😉 also of COURSE there is only ✨one bed✨ how can there NOT be? 🤭 i had a lot of fun writing their steamy kiss 😩 as much as i wanted them to do more i also wanna reiterate how much the slow burn in this story means to me. idk, with everything going on in y/n's life it didn't feel right for her to be like "cool lets fuck." especially since she still needed to tell satoru the truth, plus she is a mom with a kid and has been through a really shitty relationship. trust isn't something that just POOF appears yk? thanks for all your kind words and for reading!! school has been picking up for me, so again my updates will likely be longer in between. love you all 🥹 -aly 💕 → onto the next chapter ꨄ

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amica-aenigmata-naboo · 11 months ago

Text

Comfy

Christian Yu/Mito x Y/N - drabble - 634 WC

Masterlist

Warnings: none, pure tooth rotting fluff

--------------------------------

You sat on the couch, Christian sitting by your feet as he worked intently on his new album. The bags under his eyes were prominent and you couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. You watched his forehead wrinkle over and over when something didn’t go just right on his laptop. You decided enough was enough, picking up a piece of popcorn from the bowl resting on your thighs. You threw it at him, hitting him in the cheek. Surprisingly, he didn’t budge. You frowned slightly before trying again. This piece hit his nose and landed on his keyboard. He looked up glancing at you; you looked anywhere but him acting oblivious. He went back to work, eating the piece that was on his keyboard. You threw one more piece, this time he caught it before it landed on him.

He popped it into his mouth, “What is it baby?” He said, putting his laptop on the coffee table before rubbing his large hands over your thighs.

You sighed at his touch, missing it for the past few days. You took one of his hands, thumbing over it with yours. “Can you take a break?” you asked nervously, you hated interrupting his work but you hated seeing him not taking care of himself more.

Christian looked between you and the laptop for a moment before you spoke again, “I want to take care of you today.”

His heart melted, you always looked out for him and it made him flood with love. “That sounds lovely… shower first?” he asked.

“You go ahead, I’m gonna clean up a bit.” you smiled at him.

He nodded, standing up. He bent down to kiss you slowly, tickling your sides before he pulled away quickly and swiftly moved to the bedroom to shower. You giggled watching him scurry off, you threw one of the couch cushions at him playfully. You heard the water turn on and that was your cue to get off the couch and tidy up. You had ordered food as soon as Christian agreed to take the day off and soon enough there was a knock on the door. You set the food up in the living room, setting his favorites closer to his side. You felt arms wrap around you and droplets of water hit your neck from his hair.

“Hi baby.” you smiled, cradling his face.

He mumbled something into your neck gruffly, moving to sit on the couch. He pulled you with him, keeping you against his chest. You felt him kiss up your neck lazily until he reached your jaw then your lips. You could feel this affection wasn’t sexual, just appreciative.

“Mito, honey, do you wanna eat?” you said as you played with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

He nodded, smiling softly with sleepy eyes.

You got off him, sitting next to him as you both started eating. “Nap afterwards?” you asked as you finished chewing.

Mito nodded wordlessly as he ate. When you both finished you moved to clean up but he stopped you, “Go get comfy. I’ll clean this up and be right there.” he kissed your cheek before nudging you towards the bedroom.

You made your way there, changing into one of his oversized shirts before crawling into your bed, being swallowed by the large fluffy duvet. Mito came in a few minutes later but you hardly stirred, right on the edge of sleep. You heard Mito chuckle, slipping off his shirt before he softly climbed in next to you. He pulled the duvet up around you slightly, you shifted to rest on his chest. Snuggling up on him, you heard the tv echo quietly in the background, the noise fading quickly. You breathed him in, lulling you to sleep.

------------------------

Naboo's Note:

Brother I have been up since midnight and cannot sleep. Did not proof read this so if its fucked up that's why. I hope ya'll like it, I'm gonna go xanax myself into a coma - XOXOXOXOXOXOX :)

#writing #dpr ian x reader #dpr ian #dpr #christian yu x reader #christian yu #mito #mr insanity

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sleep-drunk-kitten · 7 months ago

Text

"𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫" 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐟 "𝐍𝐨𝐰"𝐬

pairing: Barista! Kang Yeosang x fem!reader

genre: sickly sweet fluff, soft angst with a happy ending, coffee shop au?

content warnings: none

summary: After losing the one person who you believed would be your forever, finding love again seems nearly impossible... but the sweet barista who hands you your morning coffee might just changce your mind...

notes: Hey ya'll! I'm finally back and clawing my way out of that writing slump~ This fic was purely self indulgent and the past/present tense is a little all over the place, but oh well, I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

Please support your authors, likes are sweet and all but it's reblogs, comments, and asks that give us the will and confidence to keep writing and sharing our work <3

Everything below the cut is NOT proofread

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊

“Forever”

In hindsight, it was a fickle promise.

Though born into existence to encompass eternity, the word had lost its meaning somewhere along the line.

“Oh it’s been forever! How are you?”

“Traffic was so bad, it took forever to get here”

“Oh that? It happened forever ago, I wouldn’t remember”

Its meaning changed and shifted as surely as the ripple of dunes in a desert.

A minute.

An hour.

Months.

Days.

In the case of you and the person you’d called your soulmate, forever had been all of eight years.

Eight years spent holding their hand. Kneeling down to tie the shoelace they never secured quite right. Sharing whispered conversations in the dim lights of orange streetlamps bleeding through frosted glass panes. Building futures where you moved in together, your smiles greeting each other after every long day, your arms always open and waiting for them to fall into.

You’d never planned for a life without them in it.

Not once had you truly believed it possible for them to leave.

So it was only natural that when they did, they took a part of you with them. The part of you that once believed in promises like “I’ll be by your side, always.”

Promises of “forever” or plans for the future had become intolerable. Feeling like a lie. A scam. Insincerity on your lips even when you wanted more than anything to believe it. Something that had once seemed so beautiful and bright in your eyes now filling your chest with grief. The weight of it pressing down on your heart, churning and swirling in waves so high and tumultuous they lapped against the sides of your throat so painfully there were days when something as simple as breathing burned.

You were sure you’d never be able to build a connection that strong with another human soul.

That was of course until you met him.

“Here’s your order”

Kang Yeosang was a quiet man. Offering you no more than a smile and your order every morning when you dropped by the cafe on campus.

You’d smile back, thank him, and get on with your day.

It became routine, the familiar smell of coffee beans and chocolate chip cookies embracing you for a few moments as you steadied yourself, mentally preparing for the day ahead. The sound of the vintage bell above the shop door almost hypnotic in the way it caused your whole body to relax. The weight lodged in your chest and throat ebbing. Leaving behind the barren, still peace of low tide.

Your commitment to this ritual and your usual order was so resolute that the pretty barista no longer asked what you wanted, realising early on that you deliberately came to the cafe early because you enjoyed the quiet.

As long as you never asked for anything different, which you never did, he would acknowledge you with a nod when you walked in before wordlessly moving round behind the counter to prepare your drink. Allowing you to bask in blissful silence for a few extra minutes.

It was nice.

”It’s on the house”

Your careful monotony was broken for the first time on a rainy Wednesday morning. You’d missed your first class of the day by sleeping through your alarm, woken up late, and neglected to bring an umbrella in your rush to leave your dorm.

Voices prickle over your skin in the already crowded cafe, clusters of people looking to escape the damp and cold surrounding you on all sides despite the fact that you’d wedged yourself into a small table by the large glass windows, knee bouncing in agitation as you stared out at the steely grey sky. The rain on the way to the cafe had been mild, barely more than a drizzle, but whatever was brewing promised to be much, much worse, enough to force you to seriously consider making a trip back to your room to get an umbrella.

But that would mean more time lost, more walking, potentially arriving to class much later than you’d intended, which really wouldn’t be so bad but it was still so frustrating and-

“y/n?”

The soft call of your name catches you off guard, the deep, velvety voice cutting cleanly through the chatter despite the caution laced through his tone. You look up, familiar, dark brown eyes blinking back at you, as though he was the one who should have been startled. “Your order,” he explains, setting down a to-go cup and a small paper bag.

It takes you a moment to notice the addition, peering inside the bag and finding four small chocolate chip cookies nestled inside. “I didn’t order this,” you say, holding out the bag to him, confusion and irritation creasing your brow at yet another unexpected change.

“Oh! I know…” he says, pushing the cookies back towards you, “it’s… it’s on the house.”

His ears flush red as he says it, a lisp you hadn’t noticed before creeping into his voice when he hesitates, his words coming out a bit like a question. An offer. A hand reaching out and asking ’is this okay?’

You pause, frozen in place for a moment, a blush creeping up your neck to match his own. “Ah… well… thank you, yeosang.”

He smiles, pushing back against the flurry of butterflies coming to life in his chest.

You remembered his name.

He wants to hear you say it again, his mind already replaying how sweet it sounded coming off your lips on loop, echoing through his skull so that when he goes over the scene again in his head he can’t be sure whether or not his next words came out quite right.

“Of course, what are friends for.”

From then on, there was always a bag with a different sweet treat tucked in beside your order, and for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate the surprise.

”I’m happy to be spending time with you right now”

Is what yeosang says on all your dates.

You’re not sure how exactly it happened. When small talk turned to sitting and sharing your morning beverages. When study dates became actual dates spread out over picnic blankets on the beach. When trips art exhibitions and bazaars shifted into walking hand in hand under the light of bright shop signs and flickering lampposts, a large reusable grocery bag filled with the ingredients needed to make pasta hanging off his shoulder.

It’s barely a date. But he insists that the impulsive decision to leave his house at 8:30pm to join you at the grocery store may as well be.

Because he was with you.

And that was all he needed.

Free hand wrapped loosely around your own, watching fondly as you tiptoe to avoid the cracks in the tiles.

He’d asked you to be his that night. Perched on a swing set that hung far too low for his legs. Lips parting slightly when you leaned over to swipe at them, chocolate ice cream smeared across his skin. You were fussing, telling him that he shouldn’t be such a messy eater at the grown age of twenty one, when his expression made your words come up short. An open, searching fondness in his gaze that made your heart swell painfully against your ribcage.

You knew that look.

That was exactly how you used to look at them.

Yeosang seemed to sense your hesitation, placing his hand over yours on his cheek before you could back away. There was no force in his grip. No pressure holding your hand in place. You could have retracted it easily if you wished to. But you didn’t. The confusing ache in your chest craving more of his skin against yours.

“Is this okay?” he’d asked, allowing your joined hands to drop, hanging in the space between you.

You could only nod. Wanting to highlight the fact that he’d been holding your hand for the better part of an hour just before you’d sat down to enjoy your ice cream, but opted not to when you found you couldn’t quite trust your ability to speak without your voice shaking.

Yeosang wasn't always the best at reading people. He'd discovered very early on in life that smiles and bright voices didn't necessarily come with good intentions, and it left him wondering if he'd simply been foolish. Unsure of whether or not it was his own fault that he'd misunderstood and gotten hurt in the process.

He often felt lost when it came to navigating the emotions of those around him. Confusion swirling in the undercurrent of nearly all his relationships… but not with you. He was never unsure about you.

Admittedly, he couldn't really say he'd fallen in love with you at first sight or anything (though he wished he could've). When you'd walked into that cafe and fumbled through your tote for your wallet he hadn't thought much about it at all, smiling patiently and going about business as usual. He doubted he'd even remember your name. But you were there again the next day, and the day after that (you brought a backpack instead of the tote with a cat on it), twice on Thursday (your hair was an absolute mess on your second visit), and on Friday you stayed till late, body folded over scattered notes and highlighters (it seemed like you had a habit of tugging your own hair when you were stressed).

With each visit, he began noticing you more and more, till he found himself wondering what had happened to upset you, or what made your smile seem brighter that morning.

It took some time (and a lot of teasing from Wooyoung and Jongho) for him to realise that he liked you. That no, he did not pay that much attention to all his regulars. And then it took a little longer (and a little encouragement from Seonghwa) for him to muster up the courage to actually approach you. A part of him expected that maybe, once you both became closer, you'd start to close yourself off. That the same confusion he'd come to expect from everyone but Wooyoung and San would come creeping into his mind when you found reason to hide how you felt.

But that day never came to pass. Yeosang was pleasantly surprised to find that the more he knew about you, the easier you were to decipher. Even if you refused to say anything, your lips pressed into a thin line when you were upset. No matter how many times you smoothed your expression over, your brow always creased with worry when you felt anxious. You crossed your legs when you were comfortable, and sat up straight and folded your hands in your lap when you weren't. None of these things changed as he got closer to you, and the closer his heart moved to yours the more he understood.

More often than not, he knew almost instinctively what you needed. And on the few occasions where he was unsure, he knew he could ask, because you could never find it in you to lie to a person you loved.

So he sat with you in silence for a while.

Tracing abstract patterns over your knuckles.

Allowing the steady trill of crickets and buzz of cicadas to fill the silence.

Knowing the negative space was something you needed, even if he wasn’t always sure why.

He waited patiently for the sound of your breathing to deepen, your hand relaxing in his own, your body unconsciously leaning closer to him before he spoke. “Thank you for letting me join you tonight.”

You chuckled slightly in response, dragging the heel of your shoe over the cracked rubber floor of the playground. “I should be the one thanking you, how would I ever make it home with such a heavy burden in my hands,” you'd joked, gesturing to the plastic bag settled on his lap.

“Oh but of course, you're just a girl after all,” he said with a serious little pout.

“I really am, I shouldn't have to cook my own dinner or carry big heavy things like parsley and blocks of cheese,” you tried your best to mimic his sombre expression back at him, but failed miserably, the two of you breaking into childish giggles as soon as your eyes met.

You took a few breaths to calm down, looking up to find that Yeosang was already smiling at you. His eyes shining with unshed tears from laughing too hard, that same fondness glittering under the warm streetlights.

He brought your joined hands up to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles before turning your hand over and placing another on your wrist.

“My girl…” he whispered, though it sounded almost like a question.

You didn't immediately respond, mind stuttering as the painful swell of your heart faded into something much different, something more gentle and fragile.

Unfortunately for you both, Yeosang mistook your surprise for hesitation, backtracking quickly. “Sorry, I just mean… I'm… only if you want to be, we don't-”

“Can you say it again?”

“Huh?” he'd blinked in confusion, and you were smiling. A slow, giddy sort of smile that made him thankful for the low light of the park.

It was your turn to bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft kiss against his racing pulse. “I want my boy to call me his again.”

Yeosang was sure he might implode.

”But you’re here all the time, we might as well move in together at this rate”

Panic sets in when he says it.

You wish it wouldn’t.

The fear that had been digging its way into your thoughts since you’d agreed to be his crawling over your skin, curling into an uncomfortable knot in your throat.

You try to smile when he turns back round, try to remember what the two of you had been discussing when he placed the popcorn in the microwave, but your mind is moving too fast, pulling you further and further into yourself before you can fight it.

“My love? You with me baby?”

His voice calls you back. Just like that time in the cafe, it reaches you easily through the overlapping voices in your head, a hand coming to rest on your cheek. “Yeah… Yeah I’m okay… just tired,” you dismiss easily, placing a hand over his and offering him a strained smile that leaves him thoroughly unconvinced.

He purses his lips, looking thoughtful for a moment before deciding on an answer. “What… what kind of tired?”

“Uhm… regular? Tired?” you try.

“Nono, not that, I mean… body tired? Brain tired? People tired?”

Oh.

You realise what he’s trying to ask, and the answer that immediately comes to mind, clear even in your muddled state almost makes you giggle despite yourself. Wrapping your arms over his shoulders and clasping them behind his neck, pulling him a little closer to you. “I’m a little people tired, it’s been a long week, but I’m not you tired, sangie, I want you to stay.”

“Are you sure?” he asks, hands coming to rest where they’d made a home for themselves on your hips, “we can always raincheck movie night if you’re not feeling up for it you know…”

“I know, my love, thank you,” you say, resting your forehead on his chest, timing your breathing to his heartbeat, the knot in your throat slowly unwinding with each exhale, “I’m really alright though… just happy to be with you right now.”

Yeosang breathes a sigh of relief, pressing his lips to the crown of your head. “That’s my line you know…”

“Oh I’m sorry,” you huff playfully, “I didn’t realise that saying it back was copyright infringement.”

“Hmnnn, that doesn’t make you any less guilty though, now does it?” he hums, wrapping his arms more securely round your waist and slowly swaying your bodies from side to side. “There’s a penalty for this sort of thing you know.”

You snort, tipping your head up to look at him incredulously. “And what might that be, good sir?”

“For a cutie like you? Mmmmmnnn… a dance?”

You gasp, batting your eyelashes in mock horror. “And what if I say it again? What awful sum would I have to pay then?”

He pretends to think for a moment, the two of you now shuffling and swaying in time to music no one else could hear. “Perhaps… a kiss?” he says, head tipping to the side in a way he knows you can't resist.

You tut, shaking your head and sighing defeatedly. “I suppose you leave me no choice then, I’m afraid I must confess that I am immeasurably happy in this moment, I’m so very desperately happy to be with you.”

You both manage to keep up a serious facade for all of two seconds before bursting into fits of giggles, clinging onto each other for dear life.

Once you both calm down, yeosang presses another kiss to your hairline, holding your body close to his, wishing he could somehow be even closer so his heart could rest beside yours even when heaven took his soul.

”You are my small but definite happiness too.”

#kiki writes things ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡#yeosang #yeosang fluff #yeosang x reader #ateez #ateez x reader #kang yeosang #ateez yeosang #yeosang fanfiction #ateez fanfiction #barista yeosang #ateez coffee shop au

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azrakaban · 11 months ago

Text

Distractions - Blaise Zabini

A/N: Hiii! I'm not dead, as it turn out, just procrastinating and forgetting things because yk.. stress. Anyway, lil life update, I've reshuffled my life entirely, and had a lot of both boy and girl drama happen so literally my mind is all over the place! My grades are doing great though which is shocking given that I've been zoning out thinking of potential plotlines sm... I've been thinking of writing another fic, possibly a marvel one? Lemme know if that's something ya'll want to see <333

Request by ilovegilmoregurlsss , sorry it took so long lovely xx

Summary: Blaise realises that endless pining isn't going to get you to go out with him. More of a lil drabble then entire oneshot, but I'm sleep deprived and babysitting my brother so suck it up buttercups <3

Warnings: fluff, angst if you squint, bad spelling, idiots in love <3333

...

"Mars' moons are Phobos and Deimos, not Ganymede and Callisto. Those two are Jupiters." Blaise says, a little bluntly, peering over your work with a tired smile. You rolled your eyes and crossed them out, him looking slightly apologetic.

"I'm sorry. I can't remember a thing, Blaise. There's so many distractions!" You gestured around the entirely distraction free library, groaning before looking down at the parchment, which wasn't filling with words magically, much to your disappointment.

"Come on yn. You can do this. You only need twenty more words and then you're done.The bare minimum, complete in a mere..." He checked his watch and frowned. "Three hours? For a two thousand word essay? Merlin we've been here too long..." He trailed off, looking down at you. You had completely passed out on his shoulder, head coming to rest in the crook of his neck.

He exhaled slowly, trying not to disturb you. Had it been anyone else, he might have pushed them away, or been uncomfortable but... it was you. It felt comforting, warm... and just right. And that scared him even more than having a stranger fall asleep on him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, eyes flickering from the snow falling outside the castle, to your sleeping form on his shoulder. Around midnight, Draco and Lorenzo came looking for him, finding him perfectly content with you.

The two of them walked forwards, opening their mouths to speak before Blaise fixed them both with a glare and waved them away, indicating your current state. They caught on quickly, both side-eyeing each other and smirking at him.

Lorenzo made a motion like stringing a bow, and then firing it, as Draco clutched at his heart, mocking being hit and falling to the floor. He then kneeled infront of Enzo, practically making heart eyes in his state of drama.

Blaise rolled his eyes and repeated his shooing motion, watching them walk away before sighing. He knew he had to move you - it couldn't be comfortable, sleeping upright. He almost felt guilty for keeping you there for so long. He looked down at your parchment and sighed. So close.

Gently, so as not to wake you, he leaned forward and finished off your essay, careful to mimick your handwriting.

You stirred for a second, before wriggling into a more comfortable position. He sighed in relief, and then grimaced. Now the hard part. Getting you to bed without waking you up.

He gently shifted his position, letting your head fall onto his chest, He slipped his arm under your knees, and the other around your back, carrying you bridal style. You took kindly to this change in position, smiling softly in your sleep. Blaise smiled down at you, then caught himself and frowned. Smiling? At you?

Sure, you were his best friend, and he treasured you, but that didn't mean he wanted more did it? Surely not. That just didn't make sense. You were his best friend. His funny, amazing, creative, quirky, gorgeous, beautiful best frie- oh fuck.

Blaise groaned out loud at the realisation, first at how blindingly obvious it had been, and then second in intense worry. Was he feeling attraction, just pure teenage feelings? Maybe. But then he remembered. He knew everything about you. He noticed every little thing about you. He stored these little tidbits of information away, but why? For when? People didn't do that if all they felt was attraction to someone. He remembered you telling him that earlier in the year, when the two of you had been silently shipping Astoria and Theodore.

You had organised a 'stake out' of Astoria and Theodore's third date, as Astoria had requested, and naturally, that meant he was coming too. He didn't remember how that date had gone. All he remembered was watching your face as you smiled, your eyes shining slightly as you watched your friend be happy.

He'd been watching you subconsiously for months now... how had it not occured to him? He loved you. But oh Godric, did you love him? Did you feel an ounce of what he felt for you? No, you couldn't that simply wasn't a possibility. And yet...

Who did you ask for help when you needed it? Him. Who's house did you stay at each summer? Granted, his mother loved you, and you loved her, but still! His house. Who did you go with to the yule ball? Him. And it hadn't been for lack of a date, quite a few boys had asked you. He remembered the discomfort he'd brushed aside when they each asked. But, in the end... you'd gone with him.

Maybe there was a slight chance. Just maybe. Unless he'd been imagining the way you'd looked at his lips a second too long during the ball. Wait...

"What in the name of Merlin's saggy left ball sack-?" Blaise said out liud, stopping in his tracks. He quickly went silent, realising he'd spoken aloud. He looked down to find you still sound asleep, and breathed a sigh of relief.

He had a feeling. Just a feeling, that you might feel the same. And he hoped that he wasn't wrong.

(time skip to the next morning)

YOUR POV:

You walked into the great hall, and were quickly accosted by your favourite person in the world, Cormac McLaggen. Yippee.

"y/n! Lovely weather isn't it? Those Cumulonimbus clouyds looking fabulous." He said with a smirk, trying to meet your eyes.

You stopped walking abruptly, looking up at him, giving a fake smile. "You're talking about Cumulonimbus clouds , Cormac, when I'm surprised you can tell your left from your right." You looked down at his hands and sighed. He had left and right tattooed on them. You disguised a laugh as a cough.

"What do you actually want?" You continued, biting your lip to keep from laughing. You noticed Blaise watching you from the Slytherin table, and made a mental note to go and join him in a minute.

"A chance. Look, I know that you Slytherins lost the Quidditch match, but I'm willing to put that aside and not bring it up so that you can feel better. I mean, it's not like I was surprised, you're a good chaser but just nowhere near my own skill level. Although I've only played against you once, I'll assume that it was your time of the month that made you play so badly." He bragged, puffing out his chest like an overconfident pigeon.

"The Lion The Witch and The Audacity Of This Bitch..." You said under your breath.

"Sorry what was that?" Cormac said, zoning back into your conversation.

"I said I was surprised we could even see the hoops, given that your ego is so big if it was solid it would cover everything in a two mile radius. Gryffindor only won because Potter is a good seeker and you have awesome Chasers." You were stood next to the Gryffindor table, and Ginny looked up at you with a smile, mouthing 'thank you. Sorry about him.'

You laughed and turned back to Cormac. "Anyway, McLaggen, you're not even Gryffindor chaser! Ron beat you! If it hadn't been for his injury, you wouldn't be playing. So why don't you just pack your ego into a trunk and mail it off to someone who thinks it's endearing that you won't brag over one win?" You retorted. Ginny and a few of her friends clapped you for a second before turning back to their food, one of them cough-yelling 'misogynist' at McLaggen. You looked back over at the Slyyherin table and noticed Blaise was gone. huh.

McLaggen didn't have a reply for that, just looking infuriated. "Well if you're going to be like that, maybe I won't ask you out in future. You burst into mock tears, overdramatically pretending to cry. Cho turned around and stood up, pretending to console you.

"There there y/n, it's okay, it's not your fault his ego is choking you alive..." She said soothingly, laughing at the expression on his face. A few other girls joined in, pretending to be overcome by McLaggen's 'manly charm'. It went on for a few minutes before Professor McGonagall told you all to settle down, but there was a fiant smile on her face.

You sigh, looking upset as you meet his eyes. "You have the confidence of a much taller man, Cormac."

You fake sobbed one last time before hugging Cho and heading back over to the Slytherin table to sit with Pansy, leaving a speechless McLaggen far behind you.

Pansy smiled and pulled you down onto the bench, looking around to make sure that none of the Slytherin boys were listening to your conversation before taking your hands in hers and stating quite plainly "Blaise likes you."

You blinked a few times, processing her words before... "WHAT?"

Pansy laughed and Astoria leaned in. "Yeah, it was kind of obvious. Earlier, he wasn't listening to Draco at all, he was just watching you with McLaggen."

"Maybe he thought McLaggen was harrassing me!" You protested, trying to ignore the rising hope in the back of your mind.

"Sureeeee. Because when you think someone's harrassing your best friend you always say 'Do you think he's asking her out? What if she says yes? I don't care if she says yes, it's up to her, it's just... McLaggen is a dick, isn't he? Not just me who thinks that?'" Astoria imitates Blaise, giggling with Pansy.

You roll your eyes at the two of them, but decide to check on Blaise, to see if he's okay.

...

You had spent almost an hour looking for Blaise now. Thank god for Saturdays right? And finally found him. You could have sworn you'd checked his dorm, but maybe he'd moved. He was sat on his bed, looking at something.

You crept up behind him, grabbing his shoulders and startling him, causing him to shove whatever he was holding underneath his pillow.

He looked up, seeing it was you and exhaled slowly, before resuming a glare.

"What ya looking at?" you say gently, aware you scared him.

"Doesn't matter to you. Why don't you go get ready for your date with McLaggen?" He spits out, shuffling away from you.

"What?" You look at him confused.

"You heard me. I'm sure you two will get together, and live happily ever after and raise world champion quidditch players. Look, I'm happy for you, yn, just leave me alone okay?" He says, clearly rambling.

You frown. "I'm not going out with McLaggen. After you left the girls and I cussed him out pretty thoroughly. Told him he that the confidence of a much taller man. He didn't like that." you laugh softly to yourself as Blaise turns around, attempting to form normal words but just making weird shapes with his mouth.

You laugh and put a hand under his chin, closing his mouth. "You thought I was going to go out with him?"

Blaise grabs your wrist and gently pulls your hand away from his jaw. "Looked like you wanted to to me." He didn't drop your wrist, surprisingly.

"Nuh uh. Got someone else on my mind." You say, shrugging.

He stiffens. "Who's that?" He asks, deadpan expression on his face.

You sigh. "Blaise, for a smart guy, sometimes you're incredibly dense."

You lean forward and kiss him, pulling back after a second to gauge his reaction.

Again, he's more frozen than Hermione in second year. Then, slowly, he reacts. He pulls you close by your wrist, letting your lips fall onto his again as he kisses you, holding you close. He pulls back after a few seconds.

"Now I know why you've been failing charms." He says with a smirk.

You poke your tongue out at him. "Not my fault you're distracting."

He laughs. "So many distractions yn... and yet I was your favourite one."

You smile, resting your head against his chest. "You'll always be my favourite distraction."

...

A/N: SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE! I've had no inspo, but finally once I'm sleep deprived I can write. *sigh* Sorry it's so late, enjoy my first Blaise one shot <3

#blaise zabini #don't even ask #harry potter #slytherin #slytherin boys #slytherins #slytherin boys headcanons #slytherin boys fluff #lorenzo berkshire #theodore nott #blaise zabini fluff #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini x you #blaise zabini x y/n #fyp

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frenchkisstheabyss · 2 years ago

Text

ａｌｌ ♡ ｒｏｕｎｄｅｒ

♡ I love that I've been getting so many Hyunjin requests lately. He isn't even my bias but, like, this is my boyfriend at this point ya'll ♡

♡ Pairing: boyfriend!hyunjin x thick!fem!reader

♡ Summary: Just a sweet, rainy car ride with your boyfriend that gets a little spicy.

♡ Genre: fluff/smut

♡ Word Count: 824

♡ Warnings: fingering & that's all really

Today Hyunjin took you on a picnic. The plates and utensils were forgotten on the kitchen counter, leaving you to eat everything with your hands. What a mess. The wildflowers in the meadow you settled on were gorgeous but you discovered much too late that Hyunjin was allergic. And then there was the rain. He’d checked the weather…right? With anyone else, this would’ve been a disaster. A spring afternoon ruined by a series of unfortunate events.

But with Hyunjin, well, it was the exact opposite. Not having plates or utensils meant that you had to find new, inventive ways to eat your food. It meant that you got to eat cake from the palm of his hand. That he licked frosting from the tip of your nose and smiled at the way it crinkled. Thankfully his reaction to the flowers hadn’t been severe, resulting only in a few cute sneezes that you couldn’t help but giggle at.

The rain had come down hard, leaving you both drenched from head to toe. But you got to run in the rain, hand in hand with your boyfriend, losing half of the things that you packed in the process. The two of you laughed when he dropped his keys, cursing the universe for setting you up like this. It was a disaster but with him it was beautiful. A core memory to smile about when you’re old and gray.

So on the ride home, you’re not pouting, wondering what could’ve been. No, you’re sitting in the passenger’s seat drawing hearts in the fog on the windows. The mellow music flowing from the radio fits perfectly with the light pitter-patter of rain on the roof of the car. It would ease up now. Hyunjin rests his hand on your thigh, fingers tapping along to the beat of the song, as the car comes to a red light. Almost immediately you feel him staring at you, soft brown eyes peering into your soul in the most sensual way possible.

“See something you like?” you tease, tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Hyunjin smiles, brushing his cheek against the palm of your hand, “Always.” “You’re so cute” you squeak, still soft for him after two years together. “You’re so cute” he whispers, planting a kiss on your wrist. Dragging you deeper into his gaze, he slides his hand up your skirt, massaging your inner thigh. You inhale sharply when his fingers part your plush thighs to brush your clit.

A car horn honks behind you, scaring you half to death. “The light’s green,” you say, turning Hyunjin’s head back toward the road, “Drive.” And he does but his fingers are still working between your thighs, making your stomach flutter. “Focus on the road, Hyunjin.” “Don’t worry'' his eyes flick over to you, his hand moving up to your waist to slip into your panties, “I’m an all rounder.”

You roll your eyes at him. Hyunjin can be so cocky sometimes. He’s not lying though. He manages to keep his eyes on the road, maneuvering through traffic in the rain, with one hand on the wheel and the other stroking your velvet folds. The more he toys with you, fingers sinking into your warmth, the wider your legs part. The wider your lips part. Weighted breaths add to the fog on the windows, washing away the adorable doodles you’d made no less than a minute ago.

You bite down on your lip, eyes falling closed. It’s effortless, losing yourself in him. Hyunjin fingers you like he dances. A flawless combination of grace and passion. Of gentleness and intensity. The quiet and the storm all at once. He may have forgotten to check the weather but he could never forget your body. He knows you. Knows what you like. What makes you clench around his fingers like you’re doing right now.

It’s nothing short of pure bliss to have him stroking you…spreading you…basking in the moisture of your needy little pussy. The car stops again, another red light, and Hyunjin pops his seatbelt off. Without warning he’s kissing you, pillowy lips against yours, his tongue tasting the remnants of the strawberry cake you made together. He quickens his pace, his wrist working faster to bring you to your high.

You grab his arm as you writhe beneath him. The car might as well be moving, speeding down the highway at warp speed, with the way your heart races. He slips his fingers out of you, making a V shape that lightly pinches your clit between them, and you’re coming, soaking those pink panties he loves so much.

Just in time to make the green light, he’s back in his seat, pulling off as he licks you from his fingers the same way he did his lunch. “Told you” he sings, a mischievous smirk on his face, “All rounder.”

#hyunjin x y/n #hyunjin x you #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #thick reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids x y/n

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silentium-symphony · 2 years ago

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It Can Wait (Link x Reader)

(a/n) sorry it took awhile! college is starting to pick up and senioritis is hitting like a truck. while i drown in various marine labs (not the fun ones with seals and dolphins, the scary ones that feature Excel and R), please enjoy this completely self-indulgent fic LOL

cw: how can i call myself a fanfic writer if i don't do the One Bed™ trope ;), some swearing, ya'll are just a pair of awkward lovestruck goobers, honestly just pure fluff :)

wc: 5.3k

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

You watched the edge of the sun rake the tip of some far-off mountain, dipping lower and lower past the horizon; your heart followed the celestial body in its descent to darkness. Concern loomed over your head like a thick thundercloud and your bleary eyes focused on your companion's sun-washed back.

"Hey... Link?"

The tips of his oranged ears twitched and he cast an indifferent glance past his shoulder.

"Do you see anything up ahead? A town or a stable, maybe?"

Link threw his gaze forward and 'hmph-ed,' jabbing his pointer finger to a bundle of dots precariously painted on the horizon. Your feet fluttered at the sight of civilization, momentarily forgetting the pins and needles that have been poking your legs and lower back for the past three hours.

"Oh thank Hylia--a town!"

Link had never seen you move so fast--he had to catch up with you! He lightly jogged to cover the distance.

"Slow down," he called out, voice barely louder than the winds, "you're not gonna make it at that pace."

"But Liiiink..." You whined. "A town! Civilization! Possibly with an inn! And beds!"

Not a moment later you felt your hand snatched in his as he practically dragged the two of you through the plains, exhaustion and aches be damned.

“L-Link! By the gods, slow down! You’re scuffing my boots!”

“Bed.”

“Link!!!”

You dove and ducked your head under whizzing branches, fumbled over a small brook, and ran what felt like an eternity before the rusted iron gates came into view. You were heaving at this point, each raggedy breath caught in the edges of your swollen lungs. Your stamina-for-days friend also seemed a bit spent, but he pushed onward and paid little mind to the blood rushing through his temples.

You practically collapsed at the gate, tumbling onto all fours and dry-heaving your next breath. Link, noticeably shaking, placed a trembling hand on the wall as he, too, fought to breathe. Hylia, he hadn’t run like that in years—even if he were the Hero of Hyrule™.

“Don’t,” you spat out in between heaves. “Ever do that again.”

“But we… made it… before they locked the gates.” Link was in much better shape than you (which wasn’t saying much) as he pointed to the town guards lowering the metal gates with a resounding clang.

A groan, a shuffle, followed by relief as you felt the wall’s cool stone ease the sweat and heat off your back. You threw your head up and took as deep of a breath as you could, dizzy from the bursts and sparks of colors behind your eyelids. You felt something hard slip into your laps and you winced your eyes open. A canteen?

“Drink some water.” Link’s lips were already moistened with the aqua panacea. You looked up at him gratefully and happily lapped up the rest of its contents, noting to fill his bottle later. The crisp spring water brought much-needed relief to the desert your throat had become; Link slipped the empty canteen into his pouch and looked around for the—

“What… Is that?”

You followed Link’s finger up and up and up to some… Structure? Spire? Shooting into the windows of an equally tall building. Your eyes bounced between the rickety invention and the bewildered blues of your companion, totally lost.

Only one way to find out.

After you got your bearings, you and Link slowly made your way over to the building, which happened to be… the inn? The structure grew clearer in your vision, but you still couldn’t make heads or tails of it. The main piece looked like a bunch of bamboo glued together by the ends, with some tubes sticking off to the side and into several rooms. The tail disappeared into the murky depths of a hot spring—HOT SPRING????

Link must have realized the godly pools the same time you did, his head whipping around to meet your excited gaze. You both slipped through the door and were immediately encased in a scent of steam and aromatics. It was as if the very essence of the hot spring was embedded in the inn's walls.

“Welcome, welcome! How can I— L-Link?!”

Link shot at the sound of his own name, looking over to the innkeeper who seemed… starstruck?

“I-It’s really you, sir! Wow, I… Wow!”

“I’m sorry but… Do we know you?” You chimed from the back.

“Oh! Um, I’m so terribly sorry. You may not remember me Link, but I remember you! This young man here has saved my life!”

“He did?”

“I have?”

“Yes! Do you not remember the weary traveler with the twisted ankle at the bottom of a ditch?" Link, in fact, did not remember. "That was me, sir! You took the time to tend my injuries and dropped me off right here in this very town!”

He bowed deeply, the little patch of hair on his head dipping with him.

“I’ve always wanted to thank you for your kindness, sir. Without you, I wouldn’t have realized my dreams of running a world-renowned inn!”

‘World-renowned?’

“It is by the grace of Hylia we meet again. For you only, I am offering you our premium room for the price of a regular one!”

Link’s ears twitched, no doubt in celebration of this seemingly once-in-a-lifetime deal. He turned to you, eager eyes bulging out of his head, and your laugh was all the okay he needed. He pulled out his wallet and paid for the night.

“What makes this room so special?” You interrupted before the innkeeper could grub the last rupee.

“I’m so glad you asked! Surely you have seen that tower outside our fine establishment, yes?”

You nodded slowly.

“With a lil’ bit of magic and Hylian ingenuity, we have devised a way to jet water from the hot springs straight to your room! Our premium rooms showcase the magic firsthand in the form of, what we call, a shower!”

“A… Shower?”

“Yes! You’ll see very soon, it is a wonderful addition to any room. We’ve really struck gold with this one…” He mumbled towards the end, not fully realizing he said it aloud. “Please, allow me to show you to your rooms!”

You two followed the short, stocky innkeeper up a few flights of stairs and down winding hallways. He stopped at the door to your room and plopped a golden key into Link’s hand.

“This is your room! Have fun with the shower, lovebirds!”

The innkeeper winked; a pair of mouths gaped open in heated protest, but he had already rounded the corner and returned to his innkeeper duties. A frazzled look sparked between two wide eyes and Link gulped, looking away to turn the key.

With a click, twist, and push, you were greeted by a grand bed spread across the middle of the room, dwarfing the moderately sized bookshelf packed with books and knickknacks. To your right was a gorgeous mahogany round table with matching chairs, a scene of woodland festivity carved about the curve of the surface. A wicket basket full of all kinds of goodies sat neatly atop the bed’s luscious sheets, vying for attention.

Like children in a candy store, you both fumbled right in and immediately made yourselves at home, kicking off your dirty and scuffed boots at the door ⁽ᵃ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵍˡᵃʳᵉ⁾ and slugging your bag onto the round table. The silky sheets were practically calling your name, but the layer of sweat and grime accumulated on your skin made you hesitate to tarnish the clean bed.

The singular clean bed.

Your heart lurched to your throat and you immediately threw a hesitant look at Link, who was going through the gift basket and humming happily. He must not have noticed. He finally turned to you with a bright smile, spoils of the room in hand, and his features immediately fell at your concerned look.

“Is everything all right?”

“There’s only one bed.”

“What? No there isn’t, there’s…” He glanced around the room, his lazed looks turning into frenzied glimpses. Link’s cheeks darkened to a hue similar to the deep red bedsheet.

“Oh.”

"W-Well, it's not that big of a deal..." You two have clawed your way out of the deepest pits of suffering together, surely you could handle one measly lil' night in a spacious bed. In a bid to calm your racing thoughts, your head lolled to the side and frantically searched the rest of the room; an inconspicuous door caught your attention. Two weary bodies crept towards the door, giddy with anticipation.

A room adorned with all the regular happenings of a bathroom filled your vision, but off to the corner was a... long, rectangular, glass box? With a spout carved into the wall? As you neared the contraption, still unsure of what to think of it, a golden gear caught your eye, as well as various sprigs and bunches of mint and lavender. The gear turned with a squeak, and steamed water poured forth in a steady stream. A holler left you and Link as you watched the technological marvel steam up the room. You squeaked the faucet close and turned to the man behind you.

"So who's gonna go first?"

"You can," he stepped out, "I need to stop by the market before it closes."

“What? Are you sure?”

He nodded; you waved goodbye to the blonde as he slipped on his boots, tucked his wallet in his pocket, and left. While his footsteps disappeared down the hall, you slipped out of your grimy clothes, fetched fresh ones from your sack, and waltzed into the shower.

With a quick turn of your wrist, bullets of warm water pelleted all the sore aches knotting your back and shoulders. You let out an audible groan, slinking against the heavenly sensation. The steam coddled the mint and lavender, drawing out the former’s nippy spice before dulling it with the latter’s soothing fragrance. Nature’s finest aromas settled onto your skin and snuggled into your hair. All the cool streams and frigid lakes you’ve been forced to skinny dip in for the past several weeks melted into a distant memory as the heavy fog clouded your thoughts.

But not your sense of awareness.

You poked your head out of the shower, straining your ears for some type of sign that Link had returned. There was stillness on the other side of the door; a relieved sigh slipped out of you.

You felt your throat strain a tad, disuse rusting your vocal cords, as a melody you had since forgotten until this moment clawed its way out of you. A long inhale filled your lungs with scented steam and growing bravado as your quiet, cautious mumbles turned into full-on melodies. You checked every now and then, gear turning slightly to slow and quiet the flow, but the unclicking door assured you were still alone.

And hey, so long as you were quieter than the jetting water, it should be all good… right?

And so you sang your heart out, your rationale loosening your tongue and diaphragm to fill the bathroom with your beautiful voice. You sang a bunch of tunes, from hype music to mournful, soulful ballads. You were performer and audience all bundled in a steamy, mint-kissed, lavender-lapped, package.

If the vapor plumes tickling your ankles were any testament to how long you’d been there, you’d have to admit that your simple shower had turned into a luxurious escape from the cold confines of reality. The last note you sang rolled into a sigh as you turned the gear, the barrage of water turning into a mere trickle. Your reddened body longed to feel the water's hot caresses, but alas, you had to leave your watery sanctuary at some point. Pruny fingers grasped the soft cotton hanging off a hook and you scrunched your hair of excess water before patting yourself down.

You had never felt so clean in your life.

Your warmed pajamas did wonders for your already relaxed muscles and a yawn lapsed out of you. You drowsily clicked the door open, a cloud of steam rolling at your feet, and smiled dreamily at...

Link.

Who was looking rather... flustered.

And amused.

Your heart dropped to the soles of your feet as a cold sweat beaded your brow, a dark realization settling in. Feigning innocence as best you could, you tilted your head.

“… What?”

He stood up from his chair, tossing his locks from side-to-side, and sauntered over to you with his pajamas bundled in the crook of his elbow. As he passed you by, the ghost of a whisper tickled the shell of your ear.

“Nice voice.”

Dear Hylia if you’ve ever loved me strike me down right fucking now

You turned to him, mouth agape and heart reeling, only for his outline to disappear behind a wall of hot mist and wood. The silence on your side of the room was suffocating; Link’s happy little hums funneled the tension out of the situation through the thinnest straw that ever strawed.

Maybe you misheard him? It wasn't like he was much of the teasing type... How long had he been here anyway? Maybe he just walked in as you finished and and and and happened to hear the faucet turn and maybe just maybe it sounded a bit like a squeak that could maybe pass off as a person's voice?

The bracing breeze of the night nipped your sensitive skin and calmed your overstimulated brain. You didn’t remember your journey to the window, but you were thankful your feet had guided you to a refreshing anchor for your frenzied thoughts. You took a deep breath in… and out. Innnn… and out…

This wasn’t so bad. Okay granted, you completely embarrassed yourself in front of your crush whom you’ll be traveling with for the foreseeable future but it’s not all that bad. At least you got this gorgeous view! And wow, birds! Nature! That’s cool!

After several minutes of trying to keep your dooming thoughts at bay, the faucet squeaked a dying note and the last deluge of water dripped into soft drops. Link—still humming and noticeably more at ease—shuffled a fair bit before he made his entrance into the bedroom, hair damp and skin blushed a faint pink and wow he looks so good right now—

You damn near slapped yourself and flashed him a warm (albeit awkward) smile, noting his very shirtless form and the pajamas still scrunched in his arms. He motioned to the parts of the fabric that were darker than usual.

“It fell in a puddle, so I’m letting it air out a bit.” With a whip of his wrists, a worn shirt and matching shorts snapped in front of him and settled on top of a chair. “Hope you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Knowing that the towel tied around his slutty lil waist was the only thing separating you from a great night got you feeling weak. You hastily turned your gaze to the outside before your blatant staring could turn into gawking.

A silence eclipsed the room as your eyes wandered over the town’s nightlife. Specks of Hylians dotted the dimly lit square; further below, a decently-sized crowd congregated the hot springs, traces of idle chatter floating to your ears. The stars poked an indifferent glow past the cloudy streaks in the sky and although the lunar body had yet to grace you with its presence, its soft light was still felt and appreciated by all.

You felt the air beside you stir and a loud gasp escaped you, jolting at the sudden appearance of the still-shirtless man. He rested his frame against folded arms as he peered off into the night, aestheticizing like you were only moments before. His skin had paled into its familiar alabaster, and the whitish glow of the moon circled a halo about his figure. The familiar sprigs of aromatics tickled your nose, tinging his cypress and amber scent with a fragrance of cleanliness.

“Lovely night.”

“Y-Yes.” You coughed out, still unused to the proximity. Gods, if he already got you acting up like this, how much more during bedtime?

“Did you find everything we needed?” You continued, hoping to make some light conversation about nothing.

“Yes. We’re all stocked up.” A flit of blue met your (E/C)s. “We leave at dawn, so we should head to bed soon.”

"Ah... Are your clothes dry now?"

"Hopefully my shorts are."

Link went to collect his clothes and 'tsk-ed' at the still-damp shirt. His scarred hands ghosted the knot tied right above his pelvis. He eyed your back as he discarded the plush white towel for his shorts, the fabric thinning and pilling from overuse.

"Are you decent?" Your tone lilted mirthfully. You heard fabric creasing and shifting from the bed, and you turned in response to his quiet ‘mm.’ Your core warmed at the sight of a toned, combat-kissed back and you mentally flogged yourself for your ridiculous bashfulness. With your heart pounding a quickening pace in your ears, you sallied over to your edge of the bed and sunk down.

The air was honeyed with sexual tension and you pawed and balled the silky sheets. Link’s heavy gaze rested on the same spot on the wall, fully expecting two holes to drill themselves into existence under his scrutinizing watch.

Why were you so panicked? This wasn’t the first time you found yourselves in rather... intimate situations.

A sudden movement made you flinch and you craned your neck to see behind you. With a long sigh, Link ruffled his hair and blew out a candle, muffling a ‘goodnight’ under his breath. The same silence blanketed you again, suffocating coherency out of your racing thoughts.

You pulled your knees over the edge and adjusted yourself under the covers, relieved at the plush mattress coddling the sore gaps in your body. Your head fell to the side and was once again met with Link's back (that was scooted to the very edge of the bed). You didn’t know if you should feel offended or grateful.

You followed suit, turning your body to meet the window. The moonlight was brighter now, casting a gentle spotlight on the floating dust particulates and water specks that traipsed through the window.

Your ears strained to hear and hope for the familiar deep breaths Link drew in the throes of slumber. The deathly quiet was all the sign you needed to know that he was still very much awake (and listening for your soft snores as well).

The soft sheets and the heat radiating off your partner beckoned you further into bed and away from the cold night air that had begun to blow drizzles of rain. Get your rupees’ worth, you told yourself. A tiny voice unfamiliar to you peeped out a,

“Hey… Link?”

He twitched.

“Um… I’m scooting closer, just so you know.”

He doesn’t respond. Or move. Or breathe. While you debated whether he was fast asleep or crossing a boundary, you heard a quiet sigh and a,

“Me too.”

A pair of bodies shuffled closer. His heat spilled past his body and bled into your vicinity; you held back a pleased groan. You shared many a night shivering under the cold misery of wilderness and rain, pressing into each other to preserve what little heat was left between yourselves. Your eyes fluttered shut as the rain outside tapped the roof harder and harder.

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

“Link…” You looked up at him, teeth chattering as he beheld you with a warm gaze. He tugged the corners of the cloak closer together while your shaking hands combed matted gold off his forehead.

“Are you warm?”

“As warm as I can be.” Eyes studied your makeshift shelter—a tree’s grove—helplessly. Your wet back was pressed into mossed and ivied bark while your companion’s was bulleted and blown by the storm’s raging tempest. You pulled his shaking body closer, closer, closer, until he was practically on top of you. Still, the winds whipped something nasty against his soaked back, his drenched shirt adding to the frigidity like some sort of reverse blanket.

“I-I don’t know how, but we can try switching…” You hissed through clammy lips. He shook his head, a stray droplet landing and sliding down your cheek.

“Nonsense. You are much colder than I am.”

“Link, you’re literally shaking.”

“And your lips have turned blue.” He pulled the hood further down your face, obscuring your vision, as he took your hands in his and futilely huffed warm air. His leather gloves rubbed and chafed your pruned, muddy digits and he blew again with greater gusto.

“You’ll be okay. We’ll be okay. This rain has got to let up at some point.” He murmured, his hot breath tickling your neck. You shivered from the sensation, which he mistook as the cold seeping into your bones. Muscled arms wrapped around your frame and he rubbed your sides, head burying into the crook of your neck.

“We’ll be okay… Just think of something warm, all right?

♤♢ ~~ ♡♧

The warmth of his skin seeped through your thin pajamas and you let out a yelp.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t realize I was rolling into you!”

“It’s okay,” a pause, “you can… Stay there if you’d like. I don’t mind.”

“Oh… Are you sure?”

He hums. “…warm…”

“Sorry? Did you say something?”

“You’re warm, so it… feels nice.”

“Oh...” Your heart thundered against your ribcage. “T-Thanks.”

Quietness cloaked the room once again; neither of you were going to sleep any time soon.

“So uh,” you started, “what are you gonna do when you get back?”

He was silent for awhile, and for a second you thought he had fallen asleep (wouldn’t be the first time he fell asleep mid conversation).

“Report our findings to the princess.”

“Ah… makes sense. How ‘bout after that?”

The male pondered your question and answered with a huff.

“Wait for my next mission.”

That’s… kinda sad..

“Well, is there anyone waiting for you? Y’know, like a…” You gulped, unsure if you wanted to know the answer. “Like a lover or something?”

You felt Link’s breath hitch and your heart sank. Of course he would have someone waiting for him, just look at him. Handsome, chivalrous, kind, strong—you wouldn’t be surprised if he had a thing going on with the princess herself.

“No.” He said at last. “I don’t have anyone in that regard.”

He said it so placidly; you couldn’t detect a hint of emotion behind that matter-of-fact statement. An inconspicuous sigh left your frame.

"Oooh, has anyone caught your eye?" You shimmied up to him before laughing at his flinch. Again, you were unsure if you were ready to hear the answer, but anything felt better than the silence you would otherwise be subjected to.

"Mm..." Was his only response.

"Aww, c'mon! Aren't we travel buddies? We've faced dozens of unimaginable horrors together. Your secret's safe with me."

"Do you have someone waiting for you?" He countered.

"Hey now, don't avoid the question!"

"I'll tell you if you tell me."

Well... It's not like you had anything to hide...

"No, I'm very much single." You laughed, a glimmer of despondence streaking your voice.

. . .

"Has anyone caught your eye?"

"Mm... Pass." You giggled, turning to face him fully now. He felt your shuffle and cast a glance over his shoulder. "Do you like anyone? Or at least find mildly attractive?"

His eyes fluttered shut and he exhaled slowly, the gears in his head turning even slower.

"Yes."

Your sinking heart juxtaposed the overly-hyped "Ooooh!" that left your lips.

"IS IT THE PRINCESS?!"

"Definitely not."

You practically got whiplash at the suddenness of his response; that could mean one of two things: he either really liked the princess, or he wanted nothing to do with her past their 'protector-protectee' relationship.

"Damn, that was fast. Seems mighty suspicious to me..." You nudged the space between his ribcage, plucking a light chuckle out of him.

"I really don't," he laughed dryly, "she's lovely but... Not really my type."

"So what is your type, O Hero of Hyrule?"

He hummed lowly before snapping his body to face you.

"My turn." He chirped through a boyish grin. His hot breath trickled across your cheeks and you swore you could drown in the oceans of his eyes.

"Has anyone caught your eye?"

You didn't think the question could be taken so literally. You blinked multiple times and looked away.

"Uh... Y-Yeah, I'd say so."

An iota of emotion brewed in his eyes, imperceptible to everyone but himself.

"Okay, my turn." You chortled, looking back up at him. "Can you describe your ideal partner?"

Eyes closing and head tilting upwards, Link dissected and analyzed the simple question with care.

"Smart, kind..." A small smile tugged his lips. "Curious, compassionate, brave, selfless..."

He angled his face into the pillow, the softness muffling his lips.

"ᵍᵒᵒᵈᵃᵗˢᶦⁿᵍᶦⁿᵍ"

"Sorry, what?"

"Nothing. So wha--"

"Nonono, you said something! What did you say?"

"Um... Good at..." A pause. "Mingling."

"... Mingling?"

. . .

"Yup."

Maybe facing Ganon with only a cheese grater wasn't such a bad idea after all

You supposed... That made sense. You could only imagine how awkward he must feel at royal banquets and dinner parties. You laughed and lightly flicked his forehead.

"You're such a dork." If you squinted hard enough, you could trick yourself into believing he was blushing. His eyes brightened at the realization it was his turn.

"So who's your ideal partner?"

"Well..." You looked down, fumbling with the hem of your shirt.

"Well...?" His chest rumbled with baited anticipation.

"Loyal, caring, respectful, courageous..." You nudged the lower half of your face into your pillow, hoping to hide the blush creeping onto your cheeks. "Something like that."

He nodded slowly, the gears in his head slaving away--at what, you had no idea.

"You seem to have a pretty clear idea of what you're looking for."

"So do you!"

"Yes..." He sighed dreamily, lips warming into a rare and genuine smile. "I do."

;)

"Heheheh... Whatcha thinkin' about? Or should I say... Who?"

Panic swirled behind his eyes. "N-No one."

"I heard that stutter!" You exclaimed. "C'mon, we've practically spilled everything to each other--now all I need is a name!"

"You... may not approve."

Your heart crunched in your chest, mind spinning from all the possibilities.

"I mean... Whether I like them or not shouldn't matter. Your feelings for that person, whoever they may be, are valid."

The way your eyes crinkled so... lovingly at him made him want to curl into a ball and melt into a lovestruck puddle. How could you be this cute? This sweet? And single? Maybe... Just maybe...

"You really think so?"

"Of course! Well, if you had a crush on Ganon then we might have a problem." Your lips relaxed into a small smile. "But so long as they aren't him, I don't think there's anyone out there who I would hate."

Link balanced his chin between his pointer and thumb. Your lips curled thoughtfully, forming your next question in a bid to loosen his tongue.

"When you think of them, do you think of what could be? Where life could take the two of you?"

"Of course." He answered instantly, then reddened at how quick he responded. "I've thought about it for... awhile."

His bashfulness was met with one of your angelic chortles and you looked at him head-on.

"You deserve to be happy, Link. You deserve to live the life you want with the person you love."

His breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sincerity in your eyes. Eyes that beheld him with grace and acceptance for all his failures and shortcomings. Eyes that saw him past his title of Hero. Eyes that could lift an entire kingdom's burden off his shoulders with a simple crinkle and twinkle.

"It's you."

You laughed, not quite processing what he said until--

"Wait, huh?"

"It's..." He gulped, reminding himself which piece of the Triforce he carried. "You."

"M-... Me?"

"Yes. You are who I love. You are who I want to spend the rest of my life with. It's... you."

"Oh, Link..." His heart cracked at the quietness in your tone. For once, it hurt hearing his name leave your lips.

"If you don't feel the same way, I understand. I promise I won't let this interfere with our mi--"

"No, Link! I love you too!"

Life filled his eyes, piercing a ray of light through his darkened visage.

"You... You do...?"

"Yes!" You cried out, wrapping him closer to you. "Gods, I've loved you for so long...!"

"R-Really? Me too!”

“Since when?!” You both exclaimed, new love jolting a shock of energy that mismatched the time of day.

“You go first.” Link spurred, giddiness rocking him to and fro.

“Ever since that night in the tree… Do you remember? It was pouring and you were shielding me from the storm.”

He pulled away from you slightly to stroke your hair, relishing how your soft, newly washed strands laced around his fingers.

“We had just embarked on our journey.”

“I knowww.” You drew out, giggling and nuzzling into his bare chest. “What about you? When did you fall for me?”

“It was… Before our trip.”

“What?! Really?!”

He nodded.

“I saw you feeding some strays while I was patrolling the castle one time and, well…” He rubbed his neck embarrassed. “I knew you had a heart of gold the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“That was so long ago…" You reminisced about the glowing gaze your animal friends reveled you in. "Boy, I had you whipped for that long, huh?”

“You could say that.” An airy breath stuttered out of him. “You looked so beautiful… I couldn’t get enough of that look in your eyes. Pure, selfless joy. It was… mesmerizing.”

His eyes caught yours, almost as if they were searching for the same joy he spoke of. The glimmer in his seafoam pools must have meant he found it and more.

“So how’d you feel when we were assigned to this mission together?” You laughed, clearly picturing a flustered Link pacing around his room as he just about melted through the floor.

“I felt many things—panic, for one.”

“Aww, lil' ol' me got your heart racing?”

“Yes.”

Now it was your heart’s turn to race, so touched by his candor.

"You were as beautiful as you were kind; as clever as you were tough. How could I have not fallen deeper in love?" He coughed out, a hand masking the blush that promenaded his cheeks. "You always took such good care of me after our battles... Patching me up before you even wiped the dirt off your face."

"Well, you'd do it for me, no?" You jibed, fingers raking through his hair. He chuckled fondly at the form of aftercare foreign to most couples.

"And to top it all off..." He leaned down, the surface of his lips tickling your earlobe. "You have the loveliest voice in the world."

A light slap stung his chest and he roared in laughter.

"Gods, you really heard that...?!" Your hands cupped your heated cheeks and you rocked backward, jaw clenching and legs squirming from mortification.

"It's okay! More than okay! You sounded gorgeous, (F/N)."

Your heart fluttered at the sound of your own name, unused to the way it purred so perfectly out of him. Your sheepish side glance happened upon his heartfelt visage, which did wonders to ease any discomforts you had.

"Your voice was beautiful. Like a-- Like a--"

A chorus of chirps announced the arrival of morning; you both shared a horror-struck look before shortly bursting into laughter. You talked the whole night away!

He kissed your eyelids and draped the blanket over your shoulders, wrapping his arm about your waist.

"We can stay another night if you'd like. Spend a day in town." His suggestion was met with fervent nodding. "Our duties to the throne... Our mission... All of it. It can wait."

#link #link x you #link x reader #legend of zelda #loz #link legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader #legend of zelda fanfiction #legend of zelda fandom #loz link x reader #link x reader fluff #link fluff #unrelated but FUCK R #AND EXCEL #if i have to find the population abundance of fuckingf trout one more time im gonna lose it #..... i had a long night yall LMAO #my own damn fault for making the ocean my major FUCK

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