#the voices compelled me last night

[sinkdraws]

Wake up babe, marichat is having a moment in the moonlight

[weirdmageddon]

Hi I think you are a very stupid invidiual who in an ideal world would be put in a Punishment Sphere from Sid Meiers Alpha Centuri

? why did you feel the need to send this?

[myladysapphire]

To Gwayne, with love

tired of being ingored and undervalued, you take your dragon and leave to find the one person who sees you for who you really are; your uncle, Gwayne Hightower

based of this request

word count: 5,086

CW: MDI, 18+, smut, loss of virginity, p in v, fingering, oral (f reciving), incest, angts, love letters (if the title wasnt a hint), fluff, love confessions, not proofread!

Gwayne Hightower x neice!reader

Masterlist

Growing up as the eldest child, and eldest daughter of Alicent and Viserys you had long felt unwanted and overlooked.

Where your twin, Aegon, was seen as a future king, the rightful heir, you were seen as only a daughter, pushed to the side and out of the limelight.

Always looked over, even when it came to marriage. Where it made sense for you to marry Aegon, Heleana married him instead.

You were overlooked, and often forgotten.

Even events held in your honour were overshadowed, be it by your twin or your eldest sister Rhaenrya.

Countless nights tears had filled your eyes as you were pushed aside in favour of another sibling.

It was a funny thing really, you were the eldest daughter and yet were the last to be betrothed, excluding Daeron that was. And yet you had once been dubbed the Realms heart, you had been kind and sweet. But years of neglect, being undervalued and ignored had turned you cold and restless and made you a rebel. Where your uncle Daemon was the rouge prince, you were the defiant princess.

You had stopped waiting by the sidelines, stopped keeping too yourself and your thoughts stopped being quiet. you become outspoken, even more so when your brother was crowned king.

But all that seemed for nought as you were now meet with roll of eyes and the sound of the key locking your chambers from the outside.

You couldn’t say you were surprised, not when your mother seemed to hate you more than Aegon.

She never understood you, only one person had.

Gwayne Hightower, your uncle.

You and he had an understanding that others could only envy, you couldn’t put it into words but ever since you had meet him you felt inexplicitly drawn to him.

And yet you had only meet him thrice.

But those three times amounted into countless letters.

When one was sent two would follow, even on the road Gwayne never failed to write.

Until now.

You were sat in your chambers and an ache in your chest as you read through the last of Gwayne letters. Near two weeks had passed since his last had arrived, and these past two weeks had been when you had needed his letters the most.

dearest niece,

Words cannot describe the joy I felt upon seeing you the other, even if only for a few hours before my departure.

You have grown ever so beautiful, and I envy those who got to watch you became the beauty you are today, though I envy them more for the endless pleasure of your company.

Who knew your wit was even more compelling in person, dear niece?

I sure did not and yet your endless humour is known what I crave as I am stuck of this endless rode with ser Criston as the most interesting of my companions.

And let me tell you he is far duller than you painted. (Not that you painted him to have much of a personality aside form swords and a love for oranges.)

Perhaps it his cockiness or the self-righteousness he has as the new lord hand, which makes his so dull. He seems to love to point out his new station to us all, especially my Hightower knights, as if that will win him any favours.

Though I truly believe he thinks himself funny, though his voice is always far to monotone to decipher what is an attempt at a joke or what is orders and commands.

Gods, I wish I had stolen you away with me, even just to share the looks at Criston ‘jokes’ as he calls them.

Honestly, he is perhaps the dullest man I have ever met, what your mother sees in him I’ll never know.

But I must admit little of my time is spent completing his joke when I cannot stop thinking of you.

Tomorrow, we ride to rook’s rest, he says he has some plan, I do not quite believe it will be a good one, but I shall prey to the seven that we will be victorious, and I may see you again.

Yours, Gwayne.

You had replied far to quickly though being locked n your chamber after yelling you would ride your dragon to meet your uncle would of course leave you with little to do.

To Gwayne,

I am truly sorry you are stuck with such a dreadful man, if I had gone with you I can assure you however there would not have been much time to dwell of Cristons joke attempts, I would steal far to much of your attention, perhaps enough were you were unable to fight in this silly little war.

I do hope your thoughts of me do not distract you too much.

I wish you great luck in at rook’s rest though I fear you may have to face Meleys, and in which case I pray my mother sees sense and allows me to ride out and join the fight on moonfyers, though I Highley doubted.

But from Aegon’s visit to my prison cell (my chamber’s), it seems he is quite egar to fight, though seeing as how the small council so easily sway his mind, I doubt he will, unless he drinks himself into a false sense of courage that is.

But I pray you do not repeat those words, especially to my mother.

I too crave for your presence; it is a misery that despite years of letters we have met thrice! And the third was only days ago.

 Perhaps when you go, we can make your visits permanent.

I pray for your victory uncle, and your next letter.

With love, your dearest niece.

You had sent that letter 12 days ago; rooks rest was 10 days ago.

Of course, the journey back must be accounted for, but no one had any news, besides the death of Meleys and the princess Rhaneys, the queen who never was.

You had rather liked her, in fact you hoped to model yourself of her in some way. Though you had no right to morn you suppose, you had never spoken to her bar the common pleasantries.

You stood starting out of the window, craving the day you could smash them down and make your escape. Though where you would go, you did not know. Before the war you had one destination in mind, oldtown. Now there was no one there for you, just as there wasn’t anyone here.

The forgotten daughter. No matter how defiant you became you would only be tolerated and ignored. Your actions simple receive a tolled eye and of course, the action of yet gain being locked in your chamber.

Perhaps if your mind hadn’t been so caught up in your loathing and thoughts of jumping from your window onto the back of moonfyers you would have noticed the door opening and the feel of hands slowly covering your eyes.

You jumped in shock as your eyes were covered, only to calm down when a voice spoke.

“Guess who?” a mans voice teased, though it was the voice you had ingrained into your memory.

“Gwayne” you breathed turning around.

He laughed as you hugged him.

“When did you get back?” you asked, arms still wrapped around him.

“Only moments ago,” he sighed, “did you miss me?” he teased.

Slapping his arm lightly, you stepped back “of course not”.

“Hmm…really?” he tilted his head, clicking his tongue, “I could have sworn your letter said- “

“Stop it!” you said hitting his shoulder again.

“Fine!” he said raising his hands up in mock surrender, “only if you top hitting my arm, your poor uncle has just fought a battle”.

You rolled your eyes “and am I to presume you were victorious uncle?”

“If you could call it that”.

“What do you mean?”

He looked nervous, an expression you had never seen on him before, “your brother Aegon- “

“Aegon went! That fool”

“a fool who got himself injured”.

“what” you asked, voice full of concern. Though an outcast, overshadowed by your twin, you still cared for him greatly, even if he never showed care for you in return.

He explained what had happened and your mind spun, no one had said a thing to you and yet your twin brother lay dying in his rooms.

“I must go see him” you rushed out, heading towards the door, only for Gwayne to grip your arm.

“Go later.” He insisted, “for now stay with me! and here my woeful tales of battle”.

Shaking your head with a laugh you sit back down, listening to tales of Gwanye’s journey and of the battle, and all thoughts of Aegon were forgotten.

You woke up finding yourself wrapped in Gwayne arms on your settee. You didn’t remember falling asleep, only talking and watching the sunset and rise once more.

It must have been past noon and yet no one had knocked or come to see you, not that they had before now.

You looked over at Gwayne, he was tired, even after hours of sleep he still had bags under his yes.  

Removing yourself from his arms slowly, you made your way out of your rooms and towards your brothers.

Aegon lay alone. The room dark and empty, bar his aching, unconscious body, half his body covered in bandages, his body deadly slit and his breath shaky.

You moved closer to the bed, coming forward and placing a soft kiss on his brow.

He may be terrible, drunken whoremonger but he was still your brother.

“Aegon” you breathed heavily, taking his unburnt hand in yours, “I- “ the doors opened, and your mother barged in, “get out!” she demanded.

“Mother, I- “you said standing up.

“Get out” she said once more, coming to sit by Aegon’s side.

Standing up and moving towards the door slowly, “he’s my brother, I have every right to be here!”

She looked at you, scoffing “that matters not, now leave and go back to your rooms”.

Rolling your eyes you left and stormed back to your rooms.

“Gwayne” you breathed, seeing him now awake and sitting up, reading a book.

“How Is Aegon” he asked, as you approached.

“a sleep? I do not know my mother sent me out only a few moments after I had entered.”

He kissed his teeth, “your mother has changed much recently”.

“Recently? She has always been liked this, with me at least”

“I know, my darling… I think she- “he stopped himself, looking at you, “I am not sure what she thinks actually, me and her where never close growing up”.

You huffed, looking over at him and realising that the book he was reading was in fact your diary.

“Is that my diary!”

“no” he said dragging out the word as he moved the book out of your reach.

“Where did you- how did you”

“Do not worry how your “beautiful and daring uncle” found it”.

You gasped, crawling over him to try and reach your diary.

He laughed, as you grasped at the book, “give it back” you insisted.

“But Gwayne would be never- “

You reached the book, slapping it out of his hand, “how much of it did you read?”

“Why did you not want me to read of how much you missed me?”

“Gwayne” you sighed, looking at him, you were practically lying on him, your hands leaning on chest as you reached for your diary of the floor.

“darling” he replied, before looking at you sadly, his hand reaching to caress your cheek, “I have to go soon”.

“To your chambers or to oldtown?” you asked sadly.

“Oldtown, I – “

You interrupted him, “when?”

“We leave after dinner, we thought it best to travel at night, out of sight of dragons”.

“I see” you said moving off of him. He reached for you, trying to draw you back towards him.

Everyone always leaves or ignored you. It seemed no matter how close you got you were so easily abandoned, never once had someone stayed.

“I would ask you to come, but your mother would never allow it” he said shaking his head.

Why would she allow it? It would make you happy and the gods know how much your mother craved your misery.

“Do you think there will ever be a time when-when we can spend limitless time together?”

“I hope so, I- “he always stopped himself from saying it, saying the one thing they both craved.

“As do I”

The rest of the day was spent together craving to spend every second that they could together, but in the end, he had to leave. He was bound by duty and honour.

Saying goodbye this time was harder than the few times before it. You both stood in the courtyard, his men stood the side, their own conversations distracting them.

Your mother having said her goodbyes, and had left the courtyard already, leaving you both to say your goodbyes.

“I hope it is not to long before I can see you again” you said looking down to thew ground and kicking at the gravel.

“As do I” Gwayne said grabbing your hand and kissing it gently.

Your eyes shared a look, a look saying everything you both couldn’t.

“I’ll miss you” you breathed heavily, eyes never leaving his.

you both stepped closer, now inches apart.

You moved your lips to kiss his cheek, only for Gwayne to move his head and capture your lips with his, in a soft delicate kiss.  

The shadows of the keep kept you had hidden from wandering eyes as you kissed.

It was short but sweet and left you both wanting more as he was forced to step back from you.

He whispered softly “I will think of you, always”.

“As will I” you said, reaching into you hem and pulling out your handkerchief, you had sown the initial of your name and his ono it, and placed it in the palm of his hand.

Closing is hand you softly placed a kiss onto it.

“goodbye” he spoke, before moving to his horse and riding off, sending you a final look before he left.

The days tricked by, blurring together. Aegon’s recovering slow and with little change.

You stayed in your room, much to your mother’s delight.

Letters were exchanged between you and Gwayne. But this time the letters seemed different, this time they were bolder, your feelings no longer hidden.

Dearest,

I left you only moments ago and yet I miss you already.

That kiss was everything and more, I cannot believe it took us so long to do it, even of it happened by a mistake.

I am sorry our reunion was so brief, and I wish I was bound to you and not duty.

I shall write again soon, but in the meantime, I hope the thought of you in my thoughts will tide you over.

Yours, Gwyane.

Dear Gwayne,

You just left my side and yet apart of me left with you.

I hope your thoughts are filled with me as mine are of you.

The walk back to my room was a long one, longer than it had ever taken me as I had to drag myself away from you, away from moonfyers as thoughts of chasing after you filled my mind.

My mind was a mess all night, much to my mother’s disappointment. Though I doubt she noticed my mind was with you and not in the keep.

This morrow I was awoken absurdly early and summoned to the small council!

And before you say anything I am not sure as to why, even after attending it.

I seemed to be there as a way to boost Aemond’s moral? Or should I say the prince regents.

I was simple them to watch plans be made, and to be told of an alliance, a marriage between me and some lords son, I believe some Tully.

I refused and they demanded.

I offered my dragon, they refused, and I demanded.

They claimed a woman in battle would only lead to a loss. Even if moonfyers is bigger than most for her age and even rivals Caraxes.

Anything else was ignored and dismissed and I was quickly ushered to my chambers and forced to plan a wedding.

A wedding I wish was with you.

I do not know what to do, uncle.

Please tell me to come to you, and I will.

Yours always.

My love,

The days are endlessly long, and I find myself craving you by myside more than ever.

You chase my every though both awake and asleep.

And forgive me for beings bold, niece, but I can, no will not hold back what I have longed to crave any longer.

I wished I had placed you upon my horse and ridden of with you into the night, defying your mother and brothers’ commands.

But I want you, more than I need air to breath. And for so long I have defied myself and held back my desires, my love for you.

I beg you, come to me.

Forget their plans and demands, come to me and marry me.

I am set to arrive in old town in two days, leaving you plenty of time to come to me.

With love, Gwyane.

To Gwyane,

I will come to you, it may take a few days, but I cannot stay here. And I will not stay away from you any longer.

With love, your heart.

you sat in your chambers, contemplation how you to leave.

Though there were secret passageways in your room, you had never used them. They were like a labyrinth in truth and the one time you had speed in them you feared you would get lost.

And the guards stationed outside of your door were stationed for the exact reason you were event you were currently planning.

your other would never let you go willingly, not now especially.

But then again you doubted she would notice you were gone, at least for a day or two.

Heleana may notice, but she wouldn’t say a thing.

Aemond had just been given what he always wanted and would flaunt his power as much as he could, meaning he’d keep put of your way, in fear you would ‘act up’, as he called it, and embarrass him.

This meant that the guards were your only issue, and perhaps Larys spy’s. though you cared not for them for what could they do to stop you? Tattle to Larys who would sell the information for the sight of your mother’s feet? Even then you would have a few hours.

Luckly for you however, you knew your guards. And they had a penchant for wine.

“Steffon, Gregor” you whispered opening your door a bottle of Dornish red in hand.

“Princess” they nodded, tuning around to ignore you.

“You must be bored” you started, “perhaps you can join me for a drink?” you said, fluttering your eyelashes.

They turned to face each other unsure of what to do, “oh come on, know one will care. You’ll still be guarding me, won’t you?”

Their eyes wandered to the bottle of wine “is that the only bottle, princess?”

You scoffed, “of course not”.

They smiled and ushered you in to your chamber.

It was funny, you must have done this a dozen time before and they still fell for it every time.

And being such lightweights, they were quick to fall into a drunken sleep, allowing you to grab your bag and make a run for the dragon pit.

Running through the streets of Kingslanding at night were dan, especially in your rich clothes and jewels.         

And seeing as you had only walked to the dragon pit once or twice, with the company of a dozen guards, the run was a lot longer than expected.

Getting lost in the never-ending streets of flea bottom was easy, and before you knew it you had somehow ended up on the streets of silk.

“gods” you mumbled, looking around in search of a sign to lead you in the right direction.

You could see the dragon pit, so at least you weren’t too far away, only issue is the brothel with the name ‘Chantaya’s’ seemed to stand in the way of a quick exit.

“sister” you heard someone say, and the sight of Aemond exiting said brothel, through you into a sprint once again.

You were sure you looked like some pick pocket as you ran through the street, Aemond hot on your tale.

And with being such a stranger to kings landing you found yourself meeting an end and Aemond catching up to you.

“Let go of me” you muttered trying to pull yourself free from Aemond’s grasp.

“Who let you out” he sneered.

“Does it matter?” you sneered in return, “what are you even doing here?” you asked, and Aemond face dropped.

“I could ask you the same”.

“I wanted to go to the dragon pit” “the dragon pit” he reiterated, not believing you. “To what? Declare for the usurper?”

“Gods no” you near yelled, “I- “you were hesitant to tell him, having never got on along with him and never having much to say to him at all, this was honestly the most you and he had spoken since the start of the war. “I wish to go to oldtown”.

“why”

“To…to see Gwyane”.

“Our uncle?”

“Do you know of another Gwyane I could possibly wish to see in oldtown?” you said snidely.

He hummed, looking at you with a smirk, “I am your prince regent, I command you know” he said, “one word from me and I could have you locked in the black cells, or I could command you to go to oldtown to gather forces, with Gwayne”

You hated that you looked at him hopeful and hated even more that if he asked you would beg.

“But why, dear sister? Should I command you to oldtown? You are the future lady Tully after all”.

You scoffed, “oh please, we both know the Tullys are hardly loyal now and the second old Grover Tully dies they’ll declare for the black’s”.

“true”

“And why would you want me here anyway? I do not listen, and I defy your every move, sending me a way would better your rule, would it not?”

“Oh sister, you truly have been undervalued. Fine I shall take you to the dragon pit and order you to oldtown.”

Order you? As if there was a single part of you that did not already crave to be there, with him.

The walk to the dragon pit was a quiet and awkward, with Aemond pulling you by the hand, a tight grip as if you would try to escape.

Not a word was exchanged even as you entered, only your words commanding the dragon keepers to fetch you moonfyers and Aemond stood beside you in his usual stance.

He gave you a taunting wave as you took flight, and you never looked back.

It took five hours for you to reach oldtown.

A storm thundered as you entered the reach, rain dowsing your and obstructing your vison. Had it not been for the bright blue scales of your brother’s dragon, Tesserion you were sure you would have flown into the Hightower.

Landing, you were quickly greeted with guards and the face of your brother Daeron.

“Brother” you greeted as you slide of your dragon, “a pleasure to see you!”

“And you, Gwayne said you were coming” he nodded, hand raised to stop rain pouring over his face, “come in, quickly”

The Hightower, was exactly as you envisioned, filled with riches and symbols of the seven. It looked like a museum almost.

You were brough into a room lined with seats and walls filled with books. Painting filled with the faces of old lords and ladies, and tapestry depicting Aegon s landing in oldtown and his coronation.

“niece” you heard a voice breath, causing your inspection to come to a halt as you turned and faced Gwayne,

“uncle” you breathed in return and not a moment later were you running into his arms and your lips meeting once more.

This kiss was different than the one in the courtyard, this one was filled with longing, filled with pure love and desire.

Years of want filling you mouths your lips moved against each other.

“Gwayne” you whispered against his lips, as you both breathed heavily, your heads leant against each others.

He whispered your name in return, “you came” he breathed, not quite believing it.

“of course, you asked…and the prince regent commanded it”

He laughed “what?”

“when I was making my mistake i came across Aemond leaving a brothel” you laughed, “and somehow he decided to command me to oldtown to gather forces”

“oh?” he said, head tilting, “I see…does that mean you now command me?”

“do I not anyway?” you asked tauntingly.

He laughed, grabbing you to him once more and pulling you into another kiss, “I believe we command each other, my love” he said breaking the kiss.

“my love?”

“my love” he agreed, caressing your cheek, “I love you” he finally admitted.

And you smiled. Looking at him as he always looked at you.

He always had seen you, understood you when no one else did.

And the look in his yes, it was pure love and you had never felt more seen than in this moment.

“I love you” you replied, and he smiled.

“come with me” he said taking your hand and leading you up to his room.

His room, though perhaps smaller than others, was still large and full of all things Gwayne. With his own mural and tapestry.

“do you like it?” he asked, taking note of your eyes that had not left the tapestry he had commissioned.

“is that?” you asked, unsure if you were seeing it right.

“Moonfyer and you, yes”

“gods, Gwyane” you said breathlessly, a mural of you riding moonfyers for the first time, your second time meeting Gwyane and the first time you and he realised the bond between you both.

You turned to face him, and kissed him once more.

Unlike before this kiss was heated, passionate and full of lust.                                                                                                 

His hands moved to your waist, as you slowly moved towards the bed, your hands reaching and pulling at his clothes, taking them of and leaving him in only his small clothes.

Your dress wet and soaked was quickly torn of you intern, leaving you only in your soaked chemise.

Their lips broke apart as her legs hit the bed. Taking each other in Gwayne moaned at the sight of your breast peeking out through the now sheer chemise.

“can i?” Gwayne breathed, hand coming to toy with the strap of your chemise.

You nodded, allowing your chemise to slip and leaving you bare before him.

“gods” he breathed, “ you are beautiful” he said, before pushing you down on the bed, his lips connecting with yours.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nipping at your skin, causing you to moan softly.

He kissed his way down your body, before he reached your cunt.

“can i?” he asked once more, eager to taste her cunt.

“yes”  you said, not quite sure what he intended to do until you felt his nose nudge between your thighs and a slow lick alone the length of your cunt.

groaning at the taste, he quickly went back licking and tasting your cunt, like a man starved. You moaned pleasure, hands moving to tug his hair as he found your clit.

Touching yourself had never felt like this, the sheer pleasure you felt as he sucked your clit into his mouth was better than any orgasm you had brought yourself to before, even more so when you felt his fingers toying with your entrance.

You tensed as his fingers entered you. They were thicker and longer than your own and you started to feel the stretch as he pumped you full of his two fingers.

You moaned, your body moving off the bed as you his fingers pumped in and out.

His hand moved to your waist gripping you down as he continued to fill you, your moans filling the room as his third finger entered you and you soon reached your peak.

He slowly backed away from you, pulling down his small clothes to revel his hard, thick cock.

“oh!” you spoke, at the sight of him.

“oh? Not good enough niece?” he asked teasingly.

“gods, it, yes” you nodded, reaching out to him.

He laughed, before slowly crawling onto the bed, his body covering yours. Taking your lips his, in a passionate and heated kiss, as his legs slowly parted yours as he positioned himself at her entrance.

“Are you sure?” he breathed against your lips, hand holding your waist as his cock teased your entrance.

You nodded, reaching forward to kiss him again, “yes”.

At the word he entered you slowly.

You groaned at the stretch but found no pain as he entered you.

His long cock filling you, a bulge appearing in your stomach as he allowed time for you to adjust.

“gods, you feel amazing” he groaned, moving his head to the nape of your neck “can I move?” he groaned, as your walls wrapped around him.

Nodding, “yes” you breathed. And wasting no time he began to slowly pump in and out of you.

You moaned as he thrusted into you, your hips moving to meet his as he picked up the pace.

He groaned at the feel of you moving against him, has hands gripping your waist as he started to thrust into you faster, he soon found that sweet spot inside you, that quickly turned you into a moaning mess. And soon you were wrapping your arms around him, clawing at his back as you felt your peak it washes over you and the feel if his seed filling you.

Your breath was heavy, his even heavier as he lay on you, his face still in your neck leaving soft kisses as he started to move of you slightly.

“marry me” he said, giving you soft kisses between his words. “this place is filled with septon’s it will be easy to find one to marry us.”

“okay” you said, looking into his yes.

“okay?”

You laughed, “yes, Gwyane I will marry you.”

taglist

@apollonshootafar @flrboyd @theanxietyqueen17 @dark-night-sky-99 @zillahvathek @leavesmealobe @winter-soldier-101 @bunbunbl0gs @ka1afbr @tesha-i-guess @aemondwhoresworld @RAYNE TARGARYEN 2 @littlebirdgot @eddieslut69 @beebeechaos @jennifer0305 @rosedurin @berightback1409 @barnes70stark @cloboboo @aegonswife @nessjo @helo1281917 @ateliefloresdaprimavera @perla434 @lilah102-blog @scorpiosmalfoy @random-human02 @f1wh0recom

to be added to taglist

[zvdvdlvr]

savior complex + Aaron Hotchner

     “Hey, baby! So sorry I’m late, I got caught up at work,” you say with an overly saccharine tone.

     Aaron looks up from his phone as you approach him, eyeing you skeptically. He opens his mouth, but closes it when you shake your head ‘no’ frantically.

     Quietly, you rush out, “I’m so sorry. There’s been a man following me from the last four blocks and I don’t want to go home. Please just act like you know me until he goes away.”

     Without raising an eyebrow, Aaron’s eyes dart up and he sees the person you’re talking about. A man dressed in all black, eyes intently on you. “Don’t apologize, honey, I know how busy you get. Up for dinner?” Aaron wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you close to him. He hopes he isn’t overstepping boundaries. “Just follow me,” he says quietly, leading you further down the sidewalk. “When we get to the bookstore up there, go inside. If he’s still following us I can take care of him.”

     “Okay,” you nod. “Thank you. I’m so sorry to ruin your night.”

     Aaron hears the truthfulness in your voice and he looks down at you with uncharacteristically soft eyes. “You didn’t ruin my night. I’m just glad it’s me who helped you instead of some other weird guy,” he says lamely.

     You side-eye him. “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

     Aaron pulls his wallet from his pocket with ease. “Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner with the FBI,” he tells you. He watches you scan his ID with wide eyes until he turn to the street with the bookstore. He took a quick glance over his shoulder and saw that the man wasn’t there. “He’s gone,” he informs you.

     However, you stay in Aaron’s grasp. Despite knowing the threat is gone, you choose to stay in this hot FBI man’s arm. You know you’re fooling yourself but you just wanted to imagine- for a couple more moments- that you do have a hot FBI boyfriend that escorts you to mundane places like the bookstore and calls you honey and protects you from all the bad guys.

     “Is there any way I can say thank you without saying it?” You ask with a nervous chuckle when he leads you to front of the building.

     Aaron watches you for a moment before checking his watch and scratching his head. “If you’re offering, I could eat- but don’t feel compelled. It’s really no proble-“

     “Agent Hotchner, it’s really no problem. Where do you want to go?”

     “Call me Aaron,” he smiles. “And… I could go for some burgers.”

[nadvs]

cam girl (part eleven)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning alcohol use

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

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Rafe has never had a hangover this bad. The sharp ache hammering against his temples is relentless.

He feels absolutely fucking finished. Last night, he passed out on whoever hosted the party’s floor, so not only is his head a mess, but his back is sore as fuck.

And the black eye doesn’t feel so good, either.

Even after last night’s aggravating argument with you and the embarrassing drunk texts he sent and this residual hangover from hell, when Rafe gets home in the late morning and finds you curled up in his bed, he feels better.

His head always does this when he’s around you. It’s like the whole world is nothing but fucking noise but with you, the loud turns quiet.

He still doesn’t know how you do that.

Rafe peels his clothes off, takes a hot shower, brushes his teeth and puts on new boxers… and he comes back to see you still passed out on his bed.

You must be exhausted. He feels the usual warm and incomprehensible buzz in his chest when he looks at you, even though he’s mad at you.

Rafe settles in his bed half-naked, slow not to wake you.

He’s half-asleep, fighting the ridiculous urge to turn around and hold you, when he feels you finally shift behind him. He turns to look at you and hates how his first thought is that you look pretty. He’s supposed to be pissed off at you.

He has no idea what the fuck happened last night. Why you made him feel like you’re sick of him all of a sudden.

“Crap,” you whisper as you sit up, realizing where you are and dropping eye contact with him immediately.

“Thought you needed a break from me,” Rafe mutters. “Why are you in my bed?”

He didn’t intend for his words to come out so sharp.

“I didn’t… mean to fall asleep.” You don’t even look at him. “You don’t have to be a dick about it.”

You’re about to get out of his bed and Rafe is powerless to his impulses like he always is around you. His hand circles your wrist, pulling you back.

You drop to sit on the edge of the bed and he can tell you’re annoyed by the way you look up at the ceiling and sigh. He remains on his back, the pain radiating through him keeping him from sitting up.

“I have work to do,” you say, still refusing to meet his eyes.

“Did we go too long last night?” Rafe asks, needing to know why you’re so cold, why you’re done with him all of a sudden. “Is that why you’re being like this? That shit was your fucking idea.”

That stupid toy you got was what kept him from cumming for so damn long. He was fucking you for ages. Maybe it was much for you. He can’t think of what else could have compelled you to say you want a break.

“I’m obviously tired, Rafe,” you breathe. “In every possible way. Just let me…”

Your words fade into nothing once you look at him. He sees the same concerned expression you wore when you towelled the raindrops off of his face last night.

“What happened?” you ask, your voice soft.

He knows how rough he looks; he saw himself in the mirror this morning. His right eye is covered with an ugly purple splotch that spreads down to his cheekbone. Evidence of the fight he got into last night. He doesn’t want to think about it.

So, he resorts to what he does best and tries to suffocate the feeling with sex.

“You wanna make me feel better?” he asks suggestively, cocking his head. He hopes he has the effect on you that he usually does.

You’re motionless, your eyes still hard on his face. Okay. Now he’s fucking desperate.

“Please?”

Did he really just say that?

The corner of your lips curl up into a small smile. He’s embarrassed, but thank fuck you don’t look angry anymore.

“Are you… begging me?” you ask. Your voice is back to that playful tone he’s used to.

His hand is still curled around your wrist, tense that you’ll try to leave again.

“Come here,” he says.

“How bad do you want me?” you tease. He loathes when you fuck with him like this. But why does he kind of like it, too?

He only says your name in warning, even though he knows he doesn’t have the power here.

It’s so goddamn frustrating. He’s used to you doing what he wants. But after last night, after you mentioned a break, he realized he needs to feel needed by you. You’re the one actually in control here.

“I’m all you think about, right?” you goad him. “According to your text?”

Rafe pinches the bridge of his nose with his free hand. It’s humiliating how he typed out everything he was feeling last night.

“I was drunk,” he says defensively. Your smile drops and you start to twist your wrist out of his grip. Shit. Wrong thing to say. “But, yeah,” he adds. “You are.”

“You’re only saying that to get laid,” you murmur.

“I’m not,” he admits. He takes a breath. “All I do is… wait until the next time I can see you.”

Rafe’s not looking at you as he stammers his way through his words.

“That’s what you meant last night?” you ask him. He thinks back to the way he had you bent over the table, stupidly saying he’s the one who always has to wait.

He needs to fuck. Now. He can’t take this feelings shit.

Once he finally meets your eyes again, he’s relieved to see that your stare has softened. You turn to move towards him and his muscles immediately lose their tension.

You straddle him and the way your thighs box him in like this feels so fucking good that he forgets he’s hungover.

You start to grind against him and the thrilling promise of satisfaction washes over him, his boxers getting tighter as he gets harder.

“Does this help?” you whisper. He watches you through low lids, his hands on your thighs.

“Yeah, like that,” he groans. “Good girl.”

He slides his hands up to grip your waist and beckons you to lean over so he can kiss you, but you stiffen and reject the advance. Whatever. You must still be kind of pissed off, but he’s not about to stop what’s happening.

You sit up straighter and pull your dress up over your body, tossing it on the floor.

Rafe’s eyes hungrily trail down your body. Every time he sees your body or even just thinks about it, arousal burns through him.

He hates the feeling of you getting off of him, but once he realizes you’re taking off your panties and straddling him to fuck him in reverse cowgirl, his head feels like it’s spinning.

The sight of your bare ass perched on his pelvis is mind-blowing. He feels you pull down his boxers just enough to take his cock out, your hand running up and down his length.

You stroke him to get him fully erect, which barely takes any time. He gets hard for you in seconds.

When you lower onto him, he exhales in pure elation. You’re so wet and tight and soft and the moan you let out when you fill yourself with him is so fucking pretty.

You finally put all your weight on his hips, your hands stabilizing yourself on his knees. It’s heaven the way you squeeze him so damn tight.

You start to rock on him and his eyes drink in the way his cock is burying into you, the way your pussy looks stretched out like this.

Rafe looks over at the mirror mounted on his closet door to watch you arch your back and start to bounce on him. He doesn’t know which vantage point is hotter.

“Fuck,” he whispers. “Look how fucking good you look.”

You meet his eyes in the mirror, your lips puckered as you hold back your moans. That look is for him only. He can’t stand the thought of you doing it for another man.

He watches you put your hand on your clit, touching yourself while you ride him. There’s something so fucking hot to him about how you know your body and how you shamelessly chase your own pleasure.

Rafe looks forward again, taking in the way your ass is bouncing on him, the way your back is curved, the way your cunt is clinging to his cock with every recoil.

He feels himself getting to the edge. He shuts his eyes in an attempt to delay it so you’ll get there first. Cumming will remind you of how good this arrangement between you is and you’ll forget this stupid ‘take a break’ idea.

You start to writhe even faster and breathe even quicker. He knows he’ll finish before you at this rate, so he buries his fingertips into your hips and holds you down to stop you from moving anymore.

“Why?” you whine, needy.

“Sit on my face,” he orders.

You lift your hips off of him, his cock popping out of you, glossed with your wetness. You obey and shift back on your knees.

You lower your core onto his mouth. Rafe fucking loves the way you taste. He puts his lips on you, rolling his tongue out over your velvet folds.

When he feels your hot mouth wrap around his cock, he exhales sharply. He sucks and licks you as he revels in the feeling of your tongue flicking up and down his length.

The way you’re pleasing each other at the same time makes his stomach tighten with something he’s still not used to. His body hasn’t ever reacted like this during sex, but it keeps doing this lately with you.

Rafe shoves away the thought.

He hooks his arm around you, dipping two fingers inside and curling them as he eats you out, eager to get you to cum.

Your breath is shaky, your hole tightening around his fingers. The way you looked at him when you told him you needed a break last night flashes through his mind again, pissing him off all over again.

“Nobody else can make you feel like this, hmm?” he mutters, his lips wet from you.

“Rafe…” Your voice is thin.

“Answer me.”

“No,” you tell him.

“And you want a break?” he huffs. “Do I need to fuck some sense into you?”

You’re silent, your mouth sliding up and down his cock, palming him. Frustration rises in him when you don’t answer. He needs the control. He needs to know how badly you want him.

“Do I?” he asks angrily, fingers slipping out of you to slap your ass. Your back arches at the impact, bucking up off of his face. “Do you need to watch me fuck you to get it through your head?”

Rafe pushes through the stiffness of his hangover to press against the backs of your thighs, forcing you to sit up.

“Get on your knees,” he says. “In front of the mirror.”

You groan out of irritation, but you listen to his instructions like the good girl he knows you are.

His eyes remain locked on you as you get up off of him and settle on all fours in front of the mirror on the floor, looking back at him with those beautiful eyes.

Rafe guides himself into you, finding bliss all over again. He lustfully looks at your reflection and sees the necklace he gave you hanging on your neck. It starts to swing as he thrusts into you, a reminder of how you belong to him.

Every plunge into you is fucking perfect. You squeeze his cock so nicely.

When you tighten around him, your breath hitched, he has no chance of stopping himself anymore - he cums at the same time as you, his moan tangling with yours.

Rafe can see stars as you tremble beneath him. He feels you take in everything he has to offer.

“Damn,” he says gruffly. He can’t stop himself from teasing you. “Sleeping and fucking on the clock. You’re looking to get fired.”

You let out a weak laugh and pull away from him. You stand to pick your uniform up off the floor, giving him another view of your hot, quivering body.

“Tell on me, then,” you challenge. You walk to his ensuite, shutting the door behind you. He’s sure that you know he’d never risk letting you get fired and losing this access to you.

Rafe’s heart is racing. How does every time he has sex with you feel better than the last?

He gets back into bed and pulls his cool comforter over his bare body, coming down from the high. He’s needs to figure out why the hell you’re retreating from him. And he’s determined to show you why you shouldn’t.

But with the hangover and lack of rest, Rafe falls asleep before you step back out into his room.

୨ᰔ୧

You couldn’t let Rafe kiss you. You’ll allow that sort of tenderness if, and only if, you’re more than a sex toy to him, and all signs point to that possibility being a big, ugly no.

When you step back into his bedroom to see that he fell asleep, you take a second, just a second, to look at him.

His lips are slightly pursed, his hair a tousled mess. The bruise on his swollen eye looks painful. You wish you knew what happened. You figure you’ll ask him tonight when he inevitably comes over.

As you make your way to the kitchen, the rush from the sex you just had starts to dissipate and you realize you shouldn’t have done it. You have heavy, unavoidable feelings for Rafe. You said you needed a break. Giving into the temptation was stupid.

But the way he was looking at you, holding your wrist… You couldn’t ignore the magnetic pull you seem to have for each other.

The self-destructive hope flares up as you think about what he said today. It rattled you. He thinks about you? He’s always waiting to see you again? It can’t all be sexual, can it?

You’re desperate to know what’s going through his mind.

You begrudgingly accept that because of the time you spent sleeping and having sex with Rafe, you’ll need to stay late to complete all your tasks today.

After finishing up your work in the kitchen an hour later, you head out to the backyard to throw out a few bags.

You give a polite smile to the gardener, who’s standing by the gazebo. Your mind flashes back to what happened when Rafe caught you talking to him.

Rafe’s possessiveness couldn’t possibly be purely sexual. Not after the way he looked at you once you reassured him he was the only man who could touch you.

You drop the bags in the bin and turn to head back inside, but get stopped in your tracks.

“You should be careful.”

You look up to realize the gardener is speaking to you. Your brows furrow in confusion.

“What?” you ask.

“I overheard him talking about you.“

“Sorry?” you repeat.

“The son. I heard him.” Anxiety fills your veins. He wouldn’t know Rafe’s name - he’s just the son of the millionaire you’re all working for.

He heard Rafe say something about you? You decide to play dumb. You have to. You could lose your job.

“What are you talking about?” you ask.

“He was with his friends out on the balcony a few days ago,” he says. “I was working and I heard him say that he’s… uh, nailing a maid.”

The word seems to make him uncomfortable. You’re so used to Rafe’s vulgarity that you forgot some people blush at a crude word.

Honestly, you expected Rafe to brag to his friends about fucking you. But you didn’t expect a coworker to hear.

You remember watching him through the window that day. Sending him that explicit video. Slowly developing feelings for him when you knew you shouldn’t.

“What, and you think it’s me?” you say with a laugh. Maybe there’s a chance you can convince him that Rafe was lying or that the conversation wasn’t about you.

“People have been talking… Apparently you got caught in the laundry room?” he says.

Shit. All that other maid saw was Rafe in the same room as you. That was it. You didn’t expect to make friends at this job, but this is ridiculous. Do they have nothing better to do but gossip?

You’ve been found out.

“Please don’t… say anything,” you finally say quietly. “I can’t lose this job.”

“I won’t. And I’m not judging,” he says, but he definitely is. You can see it in his expression. “Just wanted to tell you that I heard some… bad stuff.”

“What?” You cross your arms, feigning confidence.

“He told his friends that you’ll do anything he wants you to,” he says. “And that you never say no.”

“Okay,” you say. You’re trying to keep your gaze steady. This is humiliating. But it’s all true and not a surprise. You didn’t expect any better from Rafe.

“And one of them said something like… that’s the type of… um…” He looks nervous again.

“Just say it.”

“The type of… slut you run through then drop when she gets boring.”

This is what finally breaks you. You only nod, trying to seem unaffected.

“What did he say to that?” you ask. You hate that you have a little bit of hope that Rafe would defend you, show a shred of respect for you.

“They all just laughed.”

Your heart sinks.

Of course that’s what Rafe thinks of you. Of course to him, you’re just a whore that he’ll get tired of eventually. You shouldn’t have ever given him the power to disappoint you.

For fuck’s sake, you asked him point blank over text last night if all he wants to do is fuck and he replied with a clear YES.

“Okay,” you say, turning away before he can see the tears welling up in your eyes.

“Sorry. Thought you’d want to know,” he says to your back. “These rich guys are all assholes.”

“Yup,” you reply, walking away.

You don’t even give a fuck about your job anymore. It’d be better if you lost it so you don’t have to see Rafe ever again.

This is fucking agony. You feel so dehumanized.

When you make it home that evening, two hours later than usual, you type a text you mentally drafted on your drive home.

You open the conversation with one of your close friends from college and text her: hey, are there any parties tonight?

Getting drunk and partying is not a healthy way to cope, you know that, but you desperately need to get your mind off of things. Thankfully, your friend responds quickly about a party at a frat house on campus.

After you get ready, you take a cab to the address your friend sent you. It doesn’t take you long to find her and start downing shots.

Your phone buzzes, right on cue. It’s 10 pm, after all. He’s waiting for you on that depraved website where it all began. The text is blurry through your tipsy eyes.

Rafe: where are you?

You finally send him the message you’ve been toiling over, anger and disgust and embarrassment and sadness heavy on your chest.

You: i’m done. this is over. i’m not even a fucking person to you am i

{ read part twelve here }

[edenesth]

By Order of the Black Pirates

An 'Ice On My Teeth' Comeback Special Series

"N-No, please! Spare me! I was wrong! I swear I'll never do it again!" The man's voice cracked as he grovelled on the damp ground, tears carving paths through the grime on his face. His trembling hands offered up the tiny diamond he'd been foolish enough to steal—his last-ditch effort to appease the eight figures towering over him like shadows of death.

He'd heard the whispers, the warnings: Never cross the Black Pirates. Never touch what belongs to them. Never even think of betrayal. Yet greed had blinded him. Now, staring into their cold, merciless eyes, he knew his regret was far too late.

The leader of the gang stepped forward, a smirk tugging at his lips as he tilted his head, studying the pitiful man like a cat sizing up a doomed mouse. "Didn't I ask you to screen these rats better?" he drawled, casting a sideways glance at the eldest among them before shifting his focus back to their prey. "No time to waste. Finish him."

A low chuckle echoed through the tension-filled night as the gang's usual executioner, a broad-shouldered figure clad in his signature fur coat, stepped forward, his grin as sharp as the blade in his hand.

"Sorry, buddy," he mused, his voice dripping with mock sympathy. "This will be the night you take your final breath—by order of the Black fuckin' Pirates."

ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

Watching the harrowing scene from a distance stood a figure with crossed arms, his voice low as he muttered to his right-hand, "Every man has a weakness. Find the Black Pirates', and we'll knock them off their high horses."

"And if they have none, sir?"

The figure's lips curled into a dark smile. "Then we'll make sure they do."

Pairing(s): gang members!ateez x fem!reader

AU: gang au

Summary: One by one, the Black Pirates uncover their greatest weakness. But when the cracks begin to show, will they stand firm or let their vulnerabilities bring their empire to its knees?

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Trigger Warnings: violence, torture, abuse, blood, murder, language, contains dark themes in general

A/N: Credits to the wonderful @sundaybossanova for giving me the idea of something Peaky Blinders inspired. Thank you so much and ily💖

ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Hongjoong

‣ The Captain [Coming soon]

The Captain of the Black Pirates—respected, feared, and unmatched in strategy—lives by his sharp mind and unshakable resolve. But his carefully constructed world begins to crumble when a grave mistake leads him to torture an innocent suspect nearly to death. Haunted by guilt, his quest for redemption takes an unexpected turn, awakening a part of him he never thought existed: a desire to protect and care for someone.

Seonghwa

‣ The Gentleman [Coming soon]

The Black Pirates' poised diplomat, celebrated for his refined demeanour, sharp wit, and unmatched negotiation skills, is always in control. But his composure falters when he encounters an unwilling captive trapped in the Red Room—a ruthless training ground for spies. Driven by an unexpected urge to save her, he finds his carefully maintained boundaries beginning to unravel.

Yunho

‣ The Enforcer [Coming soon]

The towering enforcer of the Black Pirates, both disarming and deadly—his easy charm capable of winning over enemies, while his legendary fury dominates the battlefield. But his unbreakable facade begins to crack when he meets a psychologist during a mission—someone who can see through his carefully crafted mask, just as he can see through hers. Beneath her confident exterior lies a frightened soul lost in a dark world, and for the first time, he finds himself compelled to protect someone in a way he never expected.

Yeosang

‣ The Phantom [Coming soon]

Mysterious and elusive, the Black Pirates' intelligence expert is known for his sharp instincts and unparalleled skill in espionage and reconnaissance. But when he crosses paths with a woman who surpasses him in both skill and wit for the first time, his confidence begins to waver. As she outsmarts him at every turn, he finds himself unexpectedly drawn to her, eagerly anticipating each challenge—because the thrill of being near her is something he never expected to crave.

San

‣ The Tempest [Coming soon]

The Black Pirates' most unpredictable force is a whirlwind of fiery passion and unbridled energy—always the first to leap into action when chaos erupts. But his world tilts when he stumbles upon a woman who, unlike his victims who always begged to live, is on the brink of ending her own life. Upon discovering she's terminally ill, he finds himself gripped by an unfamiliar and urgent desire to save her, igniting a battle within himself unlike anything he's ever faced.

Mingi

‣ The Firestarter [Coming soon]

The Black Pirates' wild card is notorious for his fiery temper and even more explosive schemes—a dangerous yet irresistibly charming presence. But his confidence takes a hit when one of his near-disastrous plans is salvaged by an unlikely passerby: a composed and resourceful former aristocrat, exiled and stripped of her wealth, now navigating the world's harsh realities. Her icy demeanour and unshakable poise captivate him, leaving the ever-impulsive man unexpectedly drawn to her.

Wooyoung

‣ The Charmer [Coming soon]

The Black Pirates' negotiator and master of distractions is renowned for his confidence and flirtatious charm, which can sway almost anyone. But his ego is severely wounded when he encounters the loyal bodyguard of a high-profile target, someone completely immune to his usual tricks, during a high-stakes mission. Frustrated by his failure yet captivated by her unwavering resolve, he finds himself unable to stay away, drawn to the challenge—and to her—in ways he never expected.

Jongho

‣ The Anchor [Coming soon]

The steadfast foundation of the Black Pirates is renowned for his unfaltering strength and calm under pressure. As the gang's moral compass and protector, he's always put duty above all else. But when a rival gang's attack threatens the life of their kind-hearted hired doctor, he begins to realise that his priorities extend beyond just his brothers. Torn between his loyalty to the gang and his growing feelings for her, he faces an agonising choice: protect his family or save her.

Voila, my loves! As promised, I finally managed to come up with a little something for this comeback teehee. I hope you're as excited about this as I am! Truthfully, I just returned from a 10-day trip in Shanghai and am back to work on Monday already - which means I might not be able to write much until the following weekend but I will do my best to get the parts out ASAP!

Super excited to hear your thoughts on the concept! Do let me know which member's summary enticed you the most!✨ and of course, just leave a comment if you'd like to be tagged for when the parts are released!

General ATEEZ Tag list:

@aurasblue @marievllr-abg @itsvxlentine @minghaoslatina @huachengsbestie01

@evidive @weedforthoughtz @minkiflwr @cheolliehugs @ho3-for-yunho

@the-kpop-simp @itstheghostofmypast @vantediary @green-agent @skzline

@sharksandminhos @writingwieny @heyitsmetonid @tinyteezer @hollxe1

@pandabur666 @vampzity @tournesol155 @lilactangerine @oddracha

@haven-cove @idfkeddieishot @vic0921 @vnessalau @apriecotte

@bangtannie7 @vtyb23 @khjoongie98 @scuzmunkie @anxiousskylar

@bunny4yungi @zl-world @bethelighthalazia @tsunchani

All Rights Reserved © edenesth

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR OTHERWISE REPURPOSE ANY OF THE WORK HERE.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aegon Targaryen - The King's Obsession

Summary - She is the singular focus of his attention, the only person who matters to him and she knows it. One night, she expertly uses her charms and his infatuation to orchestrate an encounter that ends in pure bliss for her, fully exploiting his devotion to her advantage.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x reader

Warnings - Sexual content (smut!)

Word count - 2393

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

Aegon Targaryen was a man marked by jealousy, a trait I noticed long before our marriage. A trait I found rather alluring.

The intensity of his possessiveness was thrilling and intoxicating. The idea of having someone so desperately and undeniably focused on me, unwilling to share even a sliver of my attention with another, stirred something profound within me. 

There was a pull in knowing that I held such a significant place in his world, especially when that world was ruled by the king of the Seven Kingdoms himself.

To be the object of such unrelenting desire, the singular focus of a man who wielded immense power, was phenomenal. It was as if I were a rare jewel, coveted and cherished in a way that few could ever experience. 

His neediness made me feel singularly important, a queen in the truest sense of the word, celebrated and adored by the very ruler of the realm.

One evening at a grand dinner, I chose to deliberately test the limits of Aegon's jealousy. The feast was resplendent, the hall filled with the chatter of nobles and the clinking of silverware. 

I positioned myself next to Lord Halford, a man known for his charm and vivacity. From the outset, I engaged him with a warm, inviting smile, letting my laughter ring out more freely than usual.

Lord Halford, ever the gentleman, leaned in slightly, his voice a soft murmur as he said, "It's been far too long since we last conversed. How have you been, your grace?"

"Oh, you must know," I replied, my eyes twinkling with feigned innocence, "life in the court is ever so busy but I've found it quite entertaining tonight, thanks to your delightful company."

Our conversation flowed easily. I allowed myself to bask in the pleasure of his attention, laughing at his stories and adding my own anecdotes with a touch more enthusiasm than usual. 

As I leaned in closer, my hand occasionally brushing his arm, I could feel Aegon's gaze burning into the back of my neck.

I glanced briefly at Aegon, catching the edge of his stormy expression. His eyes, usually warm and soft, were now darkened with an intensity that made my heart race. His posture had become rigid, his jaw set tight as though he were struggling to keep his composure.

Lord Halford, catching sight of Aegon's darkened expression, instinctively pulled back slightly. His previous eagerness faded, replaced by a more cautious demeanour. 

"It seems the King is rather absorbed in his thoughts this evening," he said, his tone now more reserved. "Perhaps we should let him enjoy his own reflections."

Undeterred, I maintained my warm and engaging demeanour. 

"Absolutely," I replied, my gaze drifting back to Aegon with a hint of deliberate sweetness. "Though I must admit, tonight's intrigue feels unusually personal."

Lord Halford nodded, clearly uncomfortable under the weight of Aegon's gaze. 

"Indeed," he said with a polite but hasty smile, "personal intrigue can be most... compelling. I hope you enjoy the rest of your evening."

With that, he made a polite, if somewhat hasty, retreat from our conversation. I could see the relief in his step as he distanced himself from the brooding presence of the King. 

As Lord Halford moved away, I turned my full attention back to Aegon. 

His eyes were locked on the retreating figure, his expression a storm of irritation and concentrated jealousy. His fingers drummed impatiently on the table, each rhythmic tap a testament to his struggle to maintain his composure.

The more animated I was with Lord Halford, the more Aegon's agitation seemed to intensify. The subtle power play between us unfolded like an intricate dance, each movement and gesture meticulously designed to provoke him. 

I felt a thrill in being so deeply desired that even the smallest shift in my attention could elicit such a strong reaction from him.

The excitement of being the centre of his turmoil, knowing it stemmed from his profound longing for me, was intoxicating. My heart raced as I saw the storm of jealousy clouding his demeanour.

Without a word, I rose from my seat, the silk of my gown brushing against my legs as I stood. I glanced at Aegon with a look that was both inviting and commanding, a silent invitation to follow. 

His eyes, dark and fierce with a mixture of frustration and desire, locked onto me immediately. 

Without hesitation, he rose and followed me, his steps quick and purposeful, as if he were a hound obeying a command.

We left the feast behind, the noise of the revelry fading as we made our way through the corridors. There was an urgency in his stride, his focus was entirely on me, his frustration at the dinner transforming into a determined drive as he followed my lead.

Entering our chambers, I moved with deliberate grace, the silence of the room embracing me as I crossed to my dressing area. With a practised ease, I changed into my nightgown, a delicate, flowing garment that hugged my figure softly, its silk whispering against my skin. 

Once dressed, I made my way to the edge of the bed, my movements slow and intentional. As I settled there with my legs crossed, the soft glow of the chamber's candlelight played across the curves of my figure, casting a warm, intimate light that accentuated the serene anticipation in my posture.

Aegon entered the room behind me, his eyes quickly taking in the scene. The contrast between his tense, urgent demeanour and my calm elegance was striking. His posture was taut with a mixture of frustration and desire, his earlier agitation from the dinner giving way to a palpable eagerness.

As I awaited him on the edge of the bed, my expression remained composed yet hinted at the promise of what was to come. 

The night was now ours, and the thrill of our interplay, with its blend of desire and dominance, set the stage for a new kind of intimacy.

Without hesitation, he moved towards me, his eyes pleading. "Please," he murmured, his voice a low, ragged whisper. 

I tilted my head slightly, a hint of a smile playing on my lips as I regarded him. 

"What do you want, Aegon?" I asked, my voice soft but steady, revelling in the power I held in that moment.

His response was immediate and heartfelt, stripped of any pretence. "You," he said simply, his eyes locked onto mine with an almost pleading fervour. 

It was clear that he was consumed by his need for me, and his words carried a weight of both desperation and adoration.

As he took a step closer, I leaned back slightly, the glint in my eyes revealing a challenge. With a deliberate motion, I lifted my foot and placed it gently on his chest, stopping him in his tracks. 

The gesture was both commanding and teasing, a way to assert control while simultaneously heightening the tension between us.

Aegon's eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat as he gazed up at me from his halted position. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmured, his voice tinged with awe. "I can't take my eyes off you."

I allowed a smile to play on my lips, savouring the power I wielded in that moment. "Is that so?" I responded softly, my tone both teasing and indulgent.

His vulnerability was evident, a mixture of reverence and urgency. Reaching up, he gently grasped my foot, his fingers warm and trembling against my skin. 

Slowly, he began to kiss his way up my leg, each kiss a soft, worshipful press of his lips against my skin.

The sensation of his kisses was electrifying, contrasting with the cool silk of my nightgown. I shivered with pleasure, my breath hitching as he continued his tender exploration. 

"You're making me crazy," he breathed between kisses, his voice barely above a whisper. "You're all I can think about."

I tilted my head slightly, enjoying the effect I had on him. "And how does it make you feel, knowing you can't have me just yet?" I teased, my voice low and seductive.

He responded with a mix of reverence and urgency. 

"It's maddening," he admitted, his eyes burning with desire as he kissed higher along my leg. "But it's also the most incredible feeling. I want you so badly."

Suddenly, I pulled my leg back, breaking the intimate connection we had been building. Aegon's face fell into a look of utter desperation, his eyes wide and pleading. The shift in dynamic was immediate, his body tense with longing.

I leaned back further on the bed, propping myself up on my elbows, my body a tempting curve of invitation. 

Slowly, deliberately, I let one hand glide down my body, the soft silk of my nightgown barely concealing the skin beneath. My fingers trailed over my stomach, brushing the fabric aside as I traced a teasing path lower.

Aegon's eyes followed every movement, he took a step closer, but I shook my head, a soft smile playing on my lips.

"Not yet," I murmured, my voice a velvet whisper. "Watch me first."

His eyes widened, the desperation in his expression intensifying as I let my hand drift lower, slipping beneath the hem of my nightgown. The anticipation hung heavy in the air each breath he took growing more uneven as he watched me with rapt attention.

I allowed my fingers to brush lightly against myself, a soft gasp escaping my lips as I arched my back slightly, savoring the sensation. The sight of me touching myself, the pleasure that flickered across my face, was almost too much for him to bear. 

His hands clenched at his sides, his restraint hanging by a thread.

"Is this what you want, Aegon?" I whispered, my voice a sultry tease. "Do you want to see me lose myself like this, knowing you can't have me just yet?"

He swallowed hard, his voice strained as he replied, "More than anything."

My smile deepened, and I continued to tease him, my fingers moving with agonizing slowness, drawing out every moment of anticipation. His breath hitched with every subtle movement, his frustration mounting as he watched me with an intensity that bordered on worship.

"Please," he finally whispered, his voice breaking with need. "I can't take it anymore. I need you."

Satisfied that I had pushed him to the brink, I finally relented. I removed my hand, leaving him staring hungrily at the spot where my fingers had just been. 

Slowly, I crawled back up the bed, positioning myself in the center, my legs parted in a way that was both inviting and commanding.

"Then come and get me," I whispered, my voice a seductive challenge.

Without a moment's hesitation, he began to pull off his clothes with a hurried urgency. The crisp rustle of fabric falling to the floor contrasted with the charged stillness of the room, each discarded garment a testament to his growing anticipation.

As he rushed towards me, his movements were a blend of frantic eagerness and focused determination. His desire was unmistakable, a tangible force that seemed to propel him forward.

His fingers, trembling with anticipation, gently traced the curves of my body before he positioned himself between my legs. The heat between us was undeniable, a magnetic pull that had been building throughout the evening.

I leaned back slightly on the bed, my body arching in anticipation as I gazed at him with tenderness. His eyes, a mixture of longing and urgency, locked onto mine. 

"Are you ready?" I whispered, my voice a seductive murmur.

With a deep breath, he guided himself inside me, his movement slow and deliberate at first. The initial contact was a wave of warmth and intensity that made me gasp softly. As he began to move, the rhythm of his thrusts was measured, a blend of tenderness and passion.

Each thrust was deep and deliberate, drawing out a series of soft, gasping breaths from me. 

"You feel incredible," Aegon murmured, his voice rough with pleasure. "So perfect. I can't get enough of you."

The sensation of him filling me completely was both thrilling and intimate, a profound connection that went beyond mere physicality. His movements grew more fervent as the pleasure built, each thrust driving us closer to the edge of ecstasy.

The bed creaked softly beneath us, a rhythmic accompaniment to the growing tempo of our lovemaking. The tension and heat that had simmered throughout the evening now erupted in a series of intense, shared moments.

With each thrust, he seemed to lose himself more in the sensation, his breath coming in ragged, passionate bursts. 

"It's like you're everything I've ever wanted" he gasped, his hands gripping my hips firmly. 

My own responses were a mix of soft moans and whispered encouragement. 

"Tell me how much you want me," I urged my voice a breathy whisper filled with pleasure.

His hands guided our movements, his touch both firm and tender. "I want you more than anything," he breathed, his voice strained with desire. "You drive me wild. I need you so much."

The pleasure was overwhelming, a crescendo of sensations that seemed to build and build, pushing us both toward a shared climax. Our breathing grew more erratic, our movements more urgent, as we approached the peak of our passion.

Finally, as the intensity reached its zenith, our bodies entwined in a moment of perfect release. The culmination of our lovemaking was a wave of ecstasy that left us both breathless, our hearts pounding in unison. 

"You're amazing," Aegon whispered, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction. "I never want this to end."

The room seemed to shimmer with the afterglow of our shared experience, the connection between us deepened by the raw intensity of the moment. As we lay together, our bodies still intertwined, I looked up at him with a satisfied smile.

The thrill of our interplay lingered in the air, a testament to the powerful connection we had forged. 

My whisper, soft and teasing, broke the silence between us. "Remind me to make you jealous more often," I said, the playful challenge in my voice a promise of the exciting dynamic that lay ahead.

Aegon's eyes sparkled with a mix of affection and mischief, he pulled me close pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. 

The warmth of his embrace and the shared satisfaction of the evening wrapped around us, a perfect end to a perfect night.

A/n - Jealousy might be the green-eyed monster, but in these chambers, it's just foreplay

[chososcamgirl]

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER THIRTEEN: hit and miss

masterlist

You find yourself enveloped in a haze, unsure of how you arrived in this space or even where "here" truly is. The atmosphere is thick with the intoxicating blend of sweet vanilla, sweat and sex, hinting at a vibrant gathering. The pulsing rhythm of music resonates around you, suggesting a celebration of sorts.

Oh that’s right you were at Aphrodite. How you got here remains unclear as you find yourself within a sea of bodies, still developing some sort of consciousness. The vibrant surroundings crystallize in your mind, each colour and sound sharpening as you strive to regain your bearings.

“... okay?”

You look up, meeting his piercing green eyes and that all-too-familiar smirk.

“I asked if you’re feeling okay!” he shouts, his voice straining against the vibrant pulse of Don Toliver’s music, but his voice gets lost in the crowd.

You nod, still grappling with your hazy awareness, unwilling to disrupt the lively atmosphere that surrounds you.

Sensing your unease, Megumi takes your hand, guiding you away from the dance floor.

“Noooo, Megumi, where are we going?” you protest, but curiosity compels you to follow.

He remains silent, leading you to a quieter space—the bar.

With a smooth motion, he pulls out a barstool for you, his gaze encouraging you to take a seat. You oblige, sinking into the cool leather as the world around you begins to settle.

“Aww, since when did you become such a gentleman, Megumi?” you tease, a playful smile breaking through your earlier haze.

“Oh, shut up,” he replies, rolling his eyes with feigned annoyance. But the warmth in his smile reveals a deeper affection, softening his initial retort.

You rest your cheek on your hand, pondering how it escapes you that he doesn’t have a girlfriend by now. It’s ironic, considering your situation; while you were entangled with different guys almost every night, never once looking back, he seemed to seek something deeper.

With Megumi, it felt different—more significant, more real.

“Last time we were here, you told me you didn’t sleep virgins,” he remarks, and you roll your eyes in response.

“We both know you weren’t a virgin,” you retort, a playful smirk creeping across your lips.

“How’d you know?” he asks, that familiar glint in his green eyes.

“You didn’t fuck like one,” you reply, eliciting a genuine laugh from him. The sound sparks joy in you, and for a moment, everything else fades away. If you could freeze any moment in time, it would be this one.

But then he glances around the bar, his expression shifting. “Where the hell is the bartender? They have one job, for fucks sake. Hold on, baby, I’m going to get us more drinks.”

Before you can respond to the affectionate nickname, he’s off, leaving you with a swirl of warmth and confusion. Baby. Again with the baby. does he relish the fact that it sounds when it falls from his lips with ease? I mean so did you, but it feels like it just slips out more often these days.

A few moments later, a shadow settles into the seat beside you.

“Took you long enough i-“ you stop, frozen at what’s before you. Or more like who’s before you.

You turn, expecting Megumi, but your breath catches in your throat as you freeze at what’s before you. Or more like who’s before you

“Sukuna?”

“We need to talk, doll.”

“Are you fucking following me?” Your irritation sharpens the air between you.

“Do you really think blocking me will free you from me that easily?” He leans in, his fingers grazing your cheek softly. But that touch feels foreign and hollow—nothing like the warmth you’ve experienced with Megumi.

“I thought you would know better than that, doll.”

You quickly swat his hand away, anger igniting within you. “Sukuna, this is the last time I’ll say it: I’m over you.” You enunciate each word, striving to make it clear.

“Yeah, but will you still be over me when you’re reaching out at 2 AM?” He smirks, a self-assured glint in his eyes that only deepens your frustration.

His confidence is so fucking infuriating

“I don’t need you and that weak dick of yours, so leave me the fuck alone.” The words escape your lips with a finality that reverberates in the charged air as you rise from the stool, determined to walk away.

But before you can move, his hand shoots out, grasping your arm and digging into it - halting you from your progress.

“Let go of me, Sukuna before I break your fucking arm,” you warn, your voice calm yet laced with intensity.

You seize his wrist, twisting it with the intent to escape, trying to maneuver your way free. But he holds on, his grip resolute, leaving you grappling with a sense of frustration as you realise that your efforts are in vain.

“Give me a kiss, and I’ll let you go,” he says, smirking up at you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Sukuna? I’m not kissing your pasty ass lips,” you reply, your voice sharp and full of contempt.

The disdain in your tone mirrors the intensity of your glare, the space between you charged with tension as his audacity hangs in the air. You can feel your pulse quicken, a mixture of anger and disbelief coursing through you as you confront his outrageous demands.

You struggle against his grip, but it only tightens, the pressure escalating as you fight to break free.

His nails start to dig into your arms. Harder and harder. Your eyes start to water, not only from the pain but also the humiliation it’s bringing you.

And you bruise easily. Just fucking great. Another reminder of tonight’s events engraved into your arm.

“What’s happening here?” a commanding voice booms from behind you.

You turn to find Megumi standing there, you’ve never been happier to see him more than now. Your knight in shining armour.

Sukuna glances at him, his expression a mix of disdain and challenge. “None of your business, pretty boy,” he snaps, dismissing Megumi with a condescending glance. “You’d best get lost.”

“Actually, she is my business,” Megumi replies, his tone firm and unwavering as he steps closer, exuding an air of protection.

Sukuna releases your arm at those words, and Megumi steps in, towering over you with an air of authority. His hands settle firmly on your shoulders, a palpable sense of protectiveness radiating from him, enveloping you in a reassuring warmth. You can feel the heat radiating from him, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat contrasting with the tension of the moment.

Is a heart supposed to race this fast?

The proximity is electric, leaving you caught between the lingering threat of Sukuna and the comfort of Megumi’s presence.

He watches the two of you with keen interest, and you can almost see the pieces clicking together in his mind as realisation dawns.

“Ohoho, look at you, doll, already found yourself another boyfriend,” he remarks slyly, a smirk playing on his lips.

You feel Megumi's heart race beneath your fingertips, the tension palpable.

“You know,” Sukuna begins, clicking his tongue as if savouring the moment, “I could never fully trust you when we were together. The thought of you with another guy always haunted me.” He chuckles, a mocking tone threading through his words.

But now, Megumi’s heartbeat quickens, the atmosphere thickening with unspoken emotions.

“You were always throwing yourself at the first guy who showed you attention. Now that I think of it, you were such a slu-” Before he could finish, the words were abruptly silenced by the sharp impact of a fist meeting his mouth.

You find yourself pushed aside, an unwilling witness to what can only be described as the beatdown of the century unfolding mere feet away. Under normal circumstances, you might savour the spectacle of your ex finally facing the consequences of his actions, but the shots of vodka you indulged in hours earlier weigh heavily on your senses, leaving you disoriented and queasy.

The chaos engulfs you, the details of the fight slipping away like water through your fingers.

The jarring sounds of glass shattering and fists colliding pierce the air, each impact reverberating in your chest. When you glance down, dread washes over you as you see blood staining your skirt - a visceral reminder of the violence erupting around you.

You feel immobilised a sense of disbelief locking you in place as the intensity of as the scene unfolds before you. It isn’t until one of the indifferent bartenders vaults over the counter to intervene that clarity begins to seep back in.

You glance at Megumi, whose face is now smeared with blood - you can’t tell if it’s his or Sukuna's. Suddenly, your instincts kick in, propelling you into action as the gravity of the situation sinks in.

“Megumi, oh my god,” you gasp, your hands instinctively moving to cradle his face, fingers trembling as you make contact. He flinches slightly at your touch, the pain etched in his expression.

“We need to get out of here,” you insist, urgency lacing your voice.

Taking charge, you grasp his hand and lead him through the chaos, your determination unwavering. Spotting an Uber, you don’t hesitate.

“Change the address,” you command the driver, your tone leaving no room for argument.

The car ride stretches on, filled with your anxious inquiries of “Where does it hurt?” punctuated by his resolute refusals of “No, I don’t need to go to the hospital.”

Each response intensifies your concern, yet you remain focused, channelling all your energy into ensuring his safety, aware that the night has already spiralled too far out of control.

—

You find yourselves in your bathroom, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension as you meticulously stitches the cut on his forehead. He perches on the edge of the makeup-stained sink, watching you intently as you focus on the gash near his temple, your lips pursed to one side in concentration.

“It might scar,” you say, glancing up momentarily, a hint of concern in your voice.

“Or it might look hot, who knows?” he replies, a teasing light in his eyes that briefly cuts through the seriousness of the moment.

You shake her head, a faint smile playing at the corners of your mouth as you continue to clean the blood from his face. “You didn’t have to do that, Megumi.”

“I’m not going to let you take some random’s shit,” he replies firmly, the conviction in his tone unwavering.

“You shouldn’t have to go through that,” you countered softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek with the cloth, the intimacy of the gesture sending a jolt of connection between them.

“He wasn’t just some random,” you begin, your voice dropping to a near whisper. “He’s my ex.”

Megumi’s eyes widen slightly, surprise flickering across his face.

“It’s a long story,” you continue, drawing a deep breath to steady yourself. “The short version is that we dated for two years - on and off. We weren’t good for each other; hell, we were toxic. Eventually, I realised being codependent was not hot girl shit, so I walked away.”

“Looks like he’s back in town.”

He observes you, his expression turning serious, the weight of your revelation settling heavily between them.

“I’m sorry,” is all he manages, the gravity of her past hanging in the air, leaving an undeniable tension that neither of them can ignore.

“Yeah, it is what it is. I hate him, though,” you confess, your voice wavering as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The weight of your emotions is palpable, revealing a deeper turmoil beneath your words.

“All finished!” you proclaim, forcing a bright smile as you quickly turn away, hastily wiping your eyes before he can notice your vulnerability.

The abrupt shift feels almost jarring as if you’re desperately trying to mask the storm brewing within you, the facade of strength clashing with the rawness of your feelings. In that fleeting moment, the contrast between your bravado and heartache hangs heavily in the air.

He turns her around slowly, his fingertips grazing her arm with a delicate touch. “Your arm…” he murmurs, concern deepening in his voice as the bruising intensifies with each passing minute.

You brush his hand away, deflecting both his touch and his worries. “I’m fine, Megumi. Really, don’t worry about me.”

“Yn.” His grip tightens around your hand, his gaze piercing into yours. In that moment, you feel an unexpected pang in your heart—a warmth unfurling within your chest. This sensation is new; it’s different. With Sukuna, such feelings never stirred in you.

Your eyes lock, a glimmer of hope shimmering in yours, while his expression softens with a simmer of affection. “Please, Yn, let me help you,” he implores, brushing his thumb tenderly across your palm.

You smile, not merely in response to his actions but because of his words. For the first time, someone sees beyond your body, caring for you in a way that transcends physical wounds. In this moment, you grasp the essence of love - authentic and profound.

And that feeling? It’s with Megumi.

extras!

• yasss aphrodite mention again😍 sorry for the mess that omi has to clean up ree…

• got confirmed that aphrodite DOES play don toliver thank yew

• if ur wondering where the others where just imagine the famous met gala bathroom pic but exclude megumi and yn (probably smoking weed or something idk)

• tbh guys i honestly don’t know who would have won that fight i’ll leave it up to you guys to decide…

• uber driver thought he was getting robbed..

• he was TOO tired to deal with their shit

• trust the bathroom scene was INTIMATE it was like 3am…

• megumi slept over and the others took pictures of ynmegumi when they got home and sent it to the groupchat LOL

a/n: this one is late bc i was up watching princess and the frog with my niece again😭 but let’s be real when am i EVER on time posting… also officially got the ick by sukuna im this one i don’t know how im going to defend him… but i hope u guys enjoyed this chap :3

taglist: @shokosbunny @luvvmae @satoryaa @prozacprinc3ss @essjujutsu @therealsatorugojo @yeehawslap @gojodickbig @dawnisatotalqueen @j2upiters @nappingnai @lalalasillybilly3000 @totallytatum @3cst4syy @lysaray @saltypuffin1040 @aozui @noodles-icetea @makeshiftproject @kurtcobaingirlie @kokoiinuts @renbittt @dashingaurries @slvttycorpse @cuupidsss @mochroialainn @tenjikusstuff4 @oroborosttheiii @ichcocat @laughingfcx @sugurubabe @allthestarsarecloserrrrrrr @tyigerz @yoyo-yui @megoomies @yizmiu @jasminasblog22 @marst4rz @guitarstringed-scars @kalulakunundrum @lovefrominaya @beepbopzlorp @itsdragonius @meguemii @chilichopsticks @starantulas @1l-ynn @pastriepuppy @rcveriees @solaqes @starrysho @sukunaspillow @evry1luvssm

*if i can't tag you please change your tag settings otherwise i will remove you from the list!

[ozzgin]

A nice character with a yandere split persona. The Yandere persona was born out of the abandonment of the character by a loved one, maybe mom. Did he kill her just so she could stay? Maybe. Only the Yandere persona knows, the character is oblivious, he just knows his mom left him. But he oddly feels ok about it as though the situation has been reconciled... which is weird to him.

Now he meets and falls in love with yn. She must not leave. It's f around and find out

Btw I love you ❤️❤️❤️ The Yokai series is my fave

Oooh, I’ve been thinking of a context for your idea and I somehow got stuck on a serial killer who is unaware of it most of the time. Since you mentioned abandonment and obsession, my mind wandered to some of the typical habits, such as collecting trophies. I’ve also been wanting to try my hand at writing a serial killer, so hopefully it turns out to your liking. (Sending back the love, always a pleasure to see your comments ❤)

Although let me include a little disclaimer, because I am aware many things in the sphere of true crime are problematic: this in no way glorifies or romanticizes serial killers. Just a reminder that this is a work of fiction and all behaviors displayed are for the sake of an interesting story, not to be admired in real life.

Yandere! Serial Killer x Reader

You're temporarily staying with a kind, quiet man renting out a room in the house he inherited. It's just the two of you, and a locked bedroom he claims to be vacant. Yet as night falls, you hear the whispered arguing of a voice you don't recognize. Is anyone else there?

[Part 2] | [More original works]

Content/TW: female reader, mentions of murder, obsessive behavior, horror

You must break the pattern today, or the loop with repeat tomorrow

He stares at the locked drawer of the bureau. The clock ticking in the background fades into an irritating buzz, drumming against his ears at irregular intervals like a swarm of insects. Once again, he cannot remember where the key is. Yet he does not feel compelled to search for it. It cannot be anything of significance, he tells himself. Forgotten knick-knacks, perhaps. Despite the apparent lack of curiosity, he is drawn here every morning. He wakes up, carefully folds the sheets, and goes to sit in the office. Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Until, at last, the noon hour strikes, and the hallways are flooded with ghastly chimes.

Lately, however, other sounds have taken over the usual silence that envelops the house. The main door rattles faintly before opening with a creak.

“They were out of our bread rolls. I got a baguette instead.”

It’s you.

He stands up, as if startled from deep slumber, and hurries downstairs to greet you. He takes the grocery bags from your hands, flashing a smile of gratitude. Somehow, the idea of another person living here is still foreign to him. He’s gotten so used to the solitude, the quietness of the house. Time stands still when there’s no one else to remind you of it.

You glance up at the tall man, noticing his slight frown.

“Another brain fog?” You ask, worried.

“Don’t mind me. It’s a morning routine at this point”, he jokes. “More importantly, what would you like for breakfast?”

He always cooks for both of you. Initially, you were rather hesitant to go for his offer. You’d been looking for temporary accommodation and stumbled upon his advertisement. A cozy, vintage house the man had inherited from his lamentably departed mother, with one too many spare rooms. He had no need for all the space, he said in his description. You paid him a visit and were taken aback by his appearance. A massive, muscular frame that did not fit the rest of his mannerisms and features. He was soft-spoken, polite, and terribly shy. His eyes reflected the kind of gloom to be expected from anyone in his situation.

A sweet, gentle soul looking for company. On top of that, if you are to be technical, he’s a housemate difficult to compete against. Well-kept, mannered, organized, and thoughtful. He keeps to himself. You’d learned, soon after moving in, that he suffers from the occasional brain fog and memory loss. He goes for walks at odd hours to clear his mind. Enjoys reading in his office, although you’ve caught him just staring into space many times. Terribly inconvenient for the poor lad, you imagine.

The house itself is also not a bad deal by any means. Old fashioned, littered with trinkets and paintings. “My mother liked to collect many things”, he’d told you. It certainly has personality, to put it mildly. Some belongings are more bizarre than others: portraits of faceless people, with features smudged or distorted, doll heads in pompous, feathered collars hanging in clusters across the musty walls. Peculiar, but manageable.

Only at night does it become unsettling.

“Going for a walk?”

You’re curled in one of the armchairs, flipping through a magazine you found. It’s been hours since your little breakfast together and now the sun is beginning to set. The man is buttoning up his coat, standing in the doorframe and gazing at you with a smile.

“Yeah. I’m starting to detach a little. Maybe some fresh air will help.”

It’s nice, he thinks, having you here. He didn’t expect much when he ventured to rent out a room. He just wanted to hear the murmur of life again. Ever since his mother has passed…when did it happen, again? Better yet, how did it happen? Christ, he can’t remember. The last memory he has of her is not something to cherish. She was angrily shoving him out of the way, visibly annoyed by his cries and pleading. “Please don’t leave me”, he kept croaking in a pathetic tone, dragging his knees like a beggar. Then it’s all black. Black, like the cover they kept over her body at the morgue, to hide the mutilated remains. Black, like the tie he struggled to knot before her funeral. At that time, the sheets of her bed were still scattered, as if she never left. He could almost see her there, reflected onto the mirror’s surface – rather dirty as a matter of fact, he should wipe it soon – sitting melancholically on the edge of the mattress.

To think he’d be hearing footsteps again. A soothing voice. Even if it’s temporary, your presence in the house has been a blessing. Even if you must leave eventually. His lips purse involuntarily.

You hear the door close, followed by the key twisting inside the lock. You’re alone now.

With haste, you get up and sprint upstairs. You pull out a hairpin from your pocket and discreetly insert it in the cylinder. Today you find out if the spare bedroom truly is as vacant as your housemate claims.

When you first viewed the house, he mentioned that only this room will remain locked. It was his mother’s and he’d rather not look at it, he said. Let it gather dust, for all he cares.

Only at night, you’ve been hearing someone else’s voice. It didn’t happen immediately. Weeks after you’d moved in, you woke up thirsty and tiptoed on your way to the kitchen for a glass of water. On your return, you were surprised to see dim light coming from underneath the door of the forbidden bedroom. Visitors of your housemate? You hurried back into your bed, not wanting to intrude. But the following night you jolted up from the same mumbled voice. Strange that he’d invite someone over this late - twice in a row! - without saying a word to you. Even more, they were arguing like this. Curiosity got the better of you, so you snuck out and placed your cupped ear against the wall.

“No, no, no, no. I’m telling you, it’s different. She’s different from the others.” A deep, ragged voice retorted angrily.

Suddenly, there was a loud thud, a fist smashing against something, then glass shattering over exasperated, shouted curses. You ran back to your room, baffled. Who on Earth was there? You could feel your heart throbbing inside your chest.

Morning couldn’t come quick enough. You marched over to your housemate, demanding to know who this stranger was. He stared at you, wide eyed and incredulous. “There’s no one else here, dear. Just you and me.” Nonsense. You knew what you heard. You’d been wide awake! He gently placed the back of his hand against your forehead. “Could it be that you’re sick? Weather has been dreadful lately.” You scanned his face with hitched breath. Was he mocking you? Yet his features betrayed no such intent. The man seemed genuinely worried; face twisted in a caring frown.

Then what? A ghost? An intruder that fancied having a chat in a dead woman’s bedroom?

You fiddle with the pin until you hear the click. Finally. Surely whoever has been frequenting the place must’ve left some clues behind. You carefully open the door and peek inside. A broken mirror and some furniture covered in webs. There’s a lingering rusty smell that tickles your nostrils, and soon enough you find the source. Next to the old bed lays a cloth splattered red. On top of it, a leather folder from which scalpels and other surgical tools fell out haphazardly. Blood? Your mouth curls in disgust. You crouch to the floor to inspect the odd items and notice a jar glistening from underneath the bed. You pull it towards you and give it a rattle. Nothing heavy. You lift the jar into the light for a better look and gasp.

Fingernails.

“Oh, I forgot to put those away.”

It’s the same deep voice you’ve been hearing at night. Your stomach drops and you turn, slowly, towards the entrance. Horror is swiftly replaced by confusion once you realize it’s none other than your housemate.

“Y-you’re back from your walk?” You blurt out.

“Walk?” He inquires. “Ah, that’s what he told you.” He steps towards you and lowers himself to your level with a grin.

“Have you come to say hello?” He points towards the tall, shattered mirror. “This is (Y/N), mother. See, I told you she’s stunning. You didn’t believe me.”

He ruffles your hair with a boldness completely unfamiliar.

Nausea overwhelms you and your ears ring in panic. Whatever is happening right now is beyond your understanding.

“I’d like to go to my room now.”

“I recognize that speech all too well. You want to run away.”

Within seconds, he grabs one of the scalpels and points it towards your throat, poking your skin with its cold tip.

“Now, don’t embarrass me in front of her like that. Do you know how hard it is to convince this bitch of anything? I told her you’re not like them, (Y/N). Don’t prove me wrong.”

“Them?” You whisper, lungs devoid of air.

“Come, let’s put this with the others first.” He pockets the scalpel and lifts you up by the hand, tenderly kissing your fingers in the process. “Then we can talk.”

You follow him into the office, and he unlocks one of the desk drawers. Against your better judgment, you stretch over his shoulder and glance inside. ID cards of various women, jewelry, lipsticks. Teeth. Fingernails.

You want to cry.

He nonchalantly dumps the contents of the jar into the drawer and slams it back shut, then throws himself in the chair and pats his thigh, eyeing you. With a sob, you clumsily climb onto his lap.

“Back to our matters. What were you planning on doing?”

“I just wanted to lay in bed.”

He takes out the scalpel and draws a line across your cheek. It stings.

“Don’t lie, (Y/N). You have nothing to gain from being naughty with me.” He coos, placing a kiss over the fresh wound.

“I wanted to run away.” You confess, petrified.

“Good. Do you now understand what happens if you try to run away?”

You briefly look at the drawer and nod.

“I knew you would. You’re so smart.” He strokes your hair fondly. “Not an easy decision to make, mind you. I love you more than anything in this world. Who’d enjoy killing their one and only?”

The man ponders his next words with a hum.

“Don’t count on getting away while he’s awake, either.” He taps his temple and chuckles. “He has no idea and won’t stop you, but I can easily find you again.”

The eggs sizzle in the pan as you stare at your plate, background sounds melting into shapeless static. After a couple more minutes, the man turns off the stove and places the food on the table with a cheerful whistle.

“Eat up!” He encourages you.

You hold onto your fork with faintly trembling hands.

“This might be the last breakfast I cook for you, after all. You’re leaving tomorrow, aren’t you?” His last sentence trails off and he smiles, dejected.

“Actually, I was wondering if I could…stay here instead.”

He gazes at you in disbelief.

“Truly? I-…That’d be fantastic.” He laughs awkwardly and scratches the back of his head, a deep red blush spreading over his cheeks. “Do excuse my rudeness. To be honest with you, I’ve grown quite fond of our arrangement. I really do like having you here.”

You return the smile without responding.

“Most exciting news. I’ll get the documents from the office after we eat, so we can draft a new lease.”

“That’d be lovely��, you answer curtly.

“Say, have you by any chance stumbled upon a small key around the house? I wanted to finally unlock the drawer upstairs, but I can’t remember where I could’ve left it.”

The knot in your stomach tightens.

“Not at all.”

“Don’t sweat it. I’m sure it’s nothing important, anyways. Old memorabilia, most likely.”

[chuluoyi]

heartbreak hotel

- gojo satoru x reader

so you're going on a three-day-two-night getaway trip with the one and only Gojo Satoru. the catch? you two have just broken up.

genre/warnings: crack, jealousy, a dose of pettiness, hurt/comfort, fluff, zero angst i promise, suguru being a good buddy to his boyfriend best friend

notes: inspired by a very real life story :))) anyways, it takes place in an au where suguru never left and all is well with our little meow meow catoru the wonderful colored manga panel by the talented @redbluenight! this was so much fun to write (that it turned into a whopping 3k+ word, so sorry) and i even made a playlist while on it ;)

general masterlist

"He's intolerable!"

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with Gojo Satoru, but if asked one word to sum it, then that was it.

When you started this thing with him, obviously you had never planned on how it would end―who started a relationship with that sort of mindset anyway? But if you could choose, you definitely wouldn't want it to end with dramatic shouting match that left you in tears.

Anyways, some things were just not meant to be. You refused to spend your whole life crying over that smug bastard, and so you moved on.

However, if there's one thing you've learned about plans, it is that whenever you already make a foolproof one, the world always has some funny way to mess it up.

Like this time.

"I... I remembered saving for months," you stammered dumbly, staring blankly at Shoko in front of you. The realization felt like a spiritual ascent. "I paid for that damn plane ticket and hotel with my whole saving. I can't just throw them away."

How could you possibly forget about this? This graduation trip that had been planned between your group of Satoru, Suguru, Shoko and yourself for months now. It was meant to be a getaway, a celebration of your most significant achievement after four years of barely getting by on exorcising curses and not dying in the process. This was supposed to be the ultimate milestone celebration in your life.

"Then don't," Shoko replied simply, twisting the cigarette in her mouth. "I'm still going though. No way I'm wasting that money."

"But!" you vehemently hissed. "He will be there. It means I have to see him for three days straight!"

Your cringeworthy breakup happened just barely a week ago. You had sworn in front of Gojo Satoru that you didn't want to see his face again, and yet in less than a week from now, you and him would literally share the same space―again?

"Can't I get a refund?"

"This late? Nah, it's like yay or nay at this point."

You slumped in frustration. Were the gods making you swallow your own words now? You were left with no other choice. Your frugality and tendency to get broke often compelled you to make the decision.

You were going on this trip whether he was there or not.

Meanwhile, on his end, the said smug bastard was brooding, groaning and pacing over the same predicament. Satoru had two options and had weighed them all, and somehow he still arrived at the more seemingly no-good decision.

"I'm going, duh!"

"You are?" Suguru asked with a hint of surprise in his voice. "Well, might be the first time I've seen someone agree to go on an overnight trip with his ex..."

"Hmph. I just don't like squandering money."

Suguru snorted, unimpressed. “Satoru, you have an entire fortune. The airfare is just an amount you'd donate to charity. Besides, you have wasted more than that.”

“Well, I want to enjoy my youth too! I’m going—who cares if she’ll be there!”

He was still miffed, recalling the day your argument spiraling out of control. How could you say those hurtful things to him?

“You never take things seriously—heck, I’m not even sure if you’re ever taking me seriously at all! Satoru, you’re always acting all high and mighty, but you’re just a selfish little twat!”

No way. The last time, he was left in the dust, not being able to say anything in his defense. So now, he would use this chance to be the one who had the last laugh. He was going, because he was 70% sure that you wouldn’t let your hard-earned money go to waste.

And he was right when two days later, he found you at the airport with a bitter scoff upon seeing him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he moistened his lower lip in that obnoxious way. “Missed me?”

You walked past him, tone lacing with disdain. “Get lost, Gojo.”

He couldn’t help the prickling sensation in his chest when you dismissed him just like that. And the use of his last name—whereas you used to call him with all sort of available pet names? Now that was just low.

“Nah, you can’t get away from me that easily, Y/N,” Satoru sniggered. “You’re going to see me for the next three days, so suck it up and enjoy the sight,” and then the idiot proceeded to pump his fist in the air. “Wooo! Kyushu, here I go!”

Suguru and Shoko merely observed your icy interactions in silence, occasionally exchanging glances from time to time.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 1 — BEACH DAY @ SEASIDE HOTEL

After the three-hour flight, the four of you arrived at Karatsu, one of the main highlights in your trip—or back then, one you and Satoru handpicked yourselves.

You swore you still had your heart frozen for him, so you didn’t know what stirred it when you saw him giggling and doubling over in carefree delight, surrounded by those beach girls in skimpy bikinis.

“Hey, handsome~ is this even okay?” one of the girls in pink thong scooted closer to him, asking him with this cheap seductive grin. “Won’t your girlfriend be mad?”

At that moment, you could’ve sworn Satoru threw you a glance from the corner of his eye before replying with a triumphant bark. “What girlfriend? I’m wholly and happily single!”

The hell?

A rush of squeals grated your nerves as they swarmed your ex-boyfriend, prompting you to stalk away in irritation.

Absolutely not. You wouldn’t let this fine establishment be your heartbreak hotel any longer.

Gojo Satoru knew fully that he was petty. He let you see that on purpose just to rile you up, because frankly, he still felt like he didn’t deserve your messy breakup at all.

But when you were no longer in his eyesight, suddenly the urge to entertain these strangers dissipated, and what remained was this hollow sensation in his chest. You not paying him attention somehow made him crave it all the more.

He recalled how you pointed out that playing in the clear waters would be your ideal graduation gift. He specifically recommended this place himself and you had agreed. He remembered planning all of this, dragging Suguru and Shoko too just to make it merrier. To keep that cute smile on your face.

You were supposed to fool around with him in the clear waters of Matsubara Beach, splashing and pulling him underwater.

And yet in reality, he was toying with these questionable women and in your eyes, he was nothing but an irritable twat.

He didn’t see you again until evening, during dinner time. And the sight before him made him want to pull Suguru to the side and trap him inside his unlimited void.

"Really?" Your clear voice rang in his ears, every bit the same as when you would energetically question him with those doe eyes of yours, as you peered at Suguru. "We should go together tomorrow then!"

His eyes twitched.

What has his life come to? Reduced into seeing his ex-girlfriend possibly going on a date with his best friend?

He almost hoped that you'd stage up your pettiness level. It was worse because unlike him, you didn't make this up just to gauge his reaction.

That night, in their shared hotel room, he ignored Suguru completely, as well as silently waiting for him to divulge where he and you were going tomorrow.

"Hey Satoru—"

"Shut up, I'm trying to sleep."

It was obviously a wrong move, because Suguru apparently caught the hint and stayed quiet as a mouse throughout the night.

ITINERARY ::: DAY 2 — HOT SPRING @ KUMAMOTO

Or at least, last he remembered, that was the agenda.

Until he saw that only Shoko who was there, idling around at the hot spring area.

"Where are the others? Why is it only you here?"

She shrugged. "Geto said he's going to try the local specialties. Dunno where. As for me, I'm going to enjoy this onsen to the fullest."

Shoko noticed his irritated scowl, and a sly grin crept across her face.

"Heh, jealous much now, Gojo?"

Meanwhile, you and Suguru went to various dessert shops in town as per his invitation. Perhaps he took pity on you because you really seemed not to be having any fun at all after you stormed off from the beach area yesterday.

"Mmm! This is tasty!" you remarked, munching away the three-colored dango happily. You were so engrossed in eating today that you no longer had any room to think about anything else, which was a good thing.

Suguru smiled. "I'm glad you're enjoying yourself now." However, he appeared to have something on his mind, prompting you to hum and tilt your head in curiosity.

"No, it's just... so it's really over between you and Satoru?"

You let out a snort. "Yeah. Totally. He's an ass."

"He really is miserable, you know..."

"Nah, he doesn't look like it."

Your friend sighed. "Honestly, what was the argument even about? Both of you usually didn't take it this far."

You didn't want to go back to that topic, really. But Suguru was always the one with cooler head, and after his kindness today, maybe you could spare him a detail or two.

"It's a lot of little things that have piled up, you know," you mumbled. "It's probably just how he is, and I know. But I finally reached my boiling point. Why can't he try to see things from my perspective? Everything that's important to me doesn't seem to matter to him, and relationships need two people, not just one who resigns and the other who does anything he pleases."

And until now, you doubted if Satoru even realized what he did wrong. That was what hurt you the most. Like you were so small in his eyes, like he could toy with you and get away with it.

As you expected, Suguru would understand your point. "So that's how you feel... Yeah, I think I get it."

You thought he would end it at that, but then he went on. "I'm not defending him, Y/N. I think some time away from you would do him good, but later, maybe you can talk this to him? See if he will understand?"

"I already did, so many times." You narrowed your eyes at him. "Not to offend you, but it awfully seems like you're defending him, Suguru, despite you saying otherwise."

"I'm saying this because sometimes we can forget that Satoru is different," he explained sympathetically, and to be honest, you were surprised by his statement. "He is born exalted. He has a hard time comprehending things that come to us naturally. I just think it's a pity if... you can actually fix this, but just because bad communication, you lose the chance to."

Have you properly communicated this to him? Now that you thought about it, most of the times you would just get mad and point at the little things he missed, but never actually told him how it made you feel.

Your mind was still muddled with the fact Suguru had shed light on even after you got back to ryokan where you were staying for the night. The two of you were in for a surprise though as apparently there was a festival happening there.

Everything seemed to spark with glitters. The bamboo lanterns, lights, the gentle breeze. It created an undeniably romantic ambiance, to be honest.

You didn't know when Suguru slipped away, but suddenly, you found yourself alone amidst the visitors and dim lights.

And you found yourself to be immensely lonely.

Satoru spotted you in all your solitary glory amidst the sea of people in this godforsaken place.

No, actually it was a pretty great inn and attraction, but this trip had been horrible so far, and so he just felt everything was bad.

But at that moment, bitterness no longer clouded his mind, because you were so beautiful, bathed in the glow of the lights that Shoko had forcibly dragged him to see. If it were up to him, he'd spend the last night sleeping his heartbreak away, but now that he was here, he was thankful to see the dazzling sight of you that reminded him once again just what made him hopelessly in love with you.

And why he didn't get his sorry ass back into your good graces faster.

He retraced everything had brought both of you to this point. Your last fight was about what again? Him not telling you any news when he would be back from a mission?

No matter how he thought about it, it was a trivial matter. So what made you mad? He kept thinking, and then he imagined switching places with you. What if you didn't text him at all for three days straight? How would he feel? Oh, he would be despondent, of course.

Now he was starting to understand. He had done that so many times he could no longer keep count. Granted, you would be angry.

Satoru suddenly know how to rectify this. He can make things right. He would be damned if he didn't. He just had to pull you aside, and he was going to when he lost sight you in the crowd.

Okay, now he was frantic, as the longer he didn't see you, the more his opportunity to make amends slipped away. He moved through the crowd, pushing people in the process, earning ire and questionable glares and yet he cared none for it.

He nearly cursed at how his phone kept vibrating incessantly inside his pocket. Begrudgingly, he took it out and almost gasped.

You are calling him.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

It was so incredibly stupid. You just went to pee for a bit and then somehow got yourself locked in the toilet. It might have been fine, but then the lights unexpectedly went out, scaring the shit out of you.

How could such a upscale inn experience a sudden power outage and have doors that wouldn't budge? It was worse when no matter how many times you punched the switch or banged the door, it refused to turn on or open.

You were trapped. Honestly, it took everything you had not to cry.

And so you did the next best thing aside from forcing your way out. You called your friends. First, Shoko, and then Suguru, but both of them somehow didn't pick up the call even after you had called them three times each.

That left you with one possible person left. In your frenzied mind, it didn't even register in your mind what you were doing as the line connected and the last person you'd call on the other side answered.

"Satoru," you shakily breathed out, almost crying—or were you already? You didn't know as you focused on his sharp intake of breath, most likely surprised at how rattled you sound.

"Y/N? What? What is it?"

"I—" you wheezed, hating how helpless you sounded, yet still forced the words out. "I'm locked, it's dark—and it's just so—help! Help me please! I tried getting Shoko but she didn't—"

"Okay, sweetheart, calm down. Calm down, okay?" Satoru's voice brought you some comfort and it helped to reduce your tears, missing how he slipped up by calling you with his usual pet name for you. "Tell me. Where are you?"

"The women's restroom… I think it’s in the east wing."

"I'm coming, okay? Don't panic. I'll be there. Just stay on the line."

You heard his ragged breaths as he muttered several "coming through!" and "excuse me!" from where he was. It made your heart lurch. Despite the spiteful breakup, he rushed to your aid as soon as he realized you were in some kind of trouble.

Was this okay, to let your relationship end just like that?

"I'm outside." And then you heard his voice, much to your relief. "Y/N? Are you there?"

"Yes!" you shouted over the steel door.

You then heard how he rummaged to get the door open, and faintly hear him cursing it. "It won't open."

You wanted to sob, but then Satoru told you with an absolute tone, sounding so sure and demanding that compelled you to comply. "Get away from the door. As far as possible. Take cover."

Oh God, was he going to do what you thought he might do?

...he did. The next thing you knew, the door—and much more than that—was destroyed, and a rush of cursed energy was everywhere. After the blast subsided, you instinctively made a run for it, and you didn't know how, but you ended up stumbling into him.

Satoru caught you in his firm embrace.

"It's okay. You're okay," he cooed, whispering in your ear gently, urging your shivering body to calm down. "You're safe now, Y/N... I'm here. You're safe."

There was always something about your trembling form that made him want to tear down everything and anything in his path just to make you feel secure. And there was always this sense of rightness whenever you snuggled in his arms. Both desires clashed in a contrasting need and want and Satoru could do nothing but keep you close to him, torn between the two.

He kept his hand on your spine, and you clung on him, burying your face in his broad, sturdy chest.

Nevermind the fact that you technically broke up with him. Nevermind that ever since this botched trip started, it was the first occasion in which the two of you held a proper conversation without spewing bravado or sarcasm.

Afterwards, he led you away from the site, and he figured it would be best to go somewhere quieter rather than the festival, and so here you were, at the deserted lounge.

You had calmed down for the most part, and slowly you felt heat in your cheeks. In hindsight, you could've tried using cursed energy to blast the door too, why didn't you think of that earlier?

And yet, unaware of your internal musings, Satoru's thoughts were occupied with another matter entirely, and blame it on his insensitivity—he chose this moment to drop it without hesitation.

"I want you back," he declared, void of any hesitation. "I'll be better, I promise. Those things you hate—tell me, and I'll make sure not to repeat them again."

He wasn't the sharpest when it came to picking up on your feelings, but Satoru vowed that if it bothered you that much, then he would do his best to avoid doing it.

But you... you were still trying your best to grasp the situation. Amidst the plot twist you just experienced tonight, his blatant proclamation was the last thing you expected so you only managed a "What?"

He held your gaze, eerily serious. “I don’t want to break up. It’s hell. We can—I can still fix this.”

He looked sincere, unlike the usual empty promises he’d give you after you went off on him. And suddenly, you understood.

“…really?”

“Yeah. Just give me another chance. I’ll prove it to you,” Satoru said, visibly impatient now. “I won’t give you up. This literally is the fight of my life right now.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, despite yourself. If there was anything that you had learned tonight, it was that apparently you and him were still salvageable.

“And how will you prove it?”

“Just so you wait and see, sweets. I’m gonna relight your feelings!”

It was beyond corny that he took a line from your favorite song. And both of you burst into a laughter at the sheer silliness of it.

You sighed, but this time of relief, in stark contrast to your earlier sighs that afternoon. You were giddy as a smile perched on your lips. “Fine. Let’s give this another shot.”

Satoru felt the tension in his shoulder melt with your answer. A genuine, wide smile emerged from the bottom of his heart and lit up his face.

“Now, this whole trip has been kind of terrible so far, don’t you think?” He made a brief pouty face for a moment before reverting to his mischievous grin His remarkable expressiveness—reminiscent of a child's, in your opinion—never ceased to fascinate you. “I have a pretty good idea where we should go next.”

You furrowed your brow in confusion. “What do you mean? Tomorrow’s our last day.”

“No freaking way!” he exclaimed, whipping out his phone to launch the travel agency app. “We are going to redo our graduation trip. This time just the two of us!”

There were many things that led to the end of your relationship with your dork of a boyfriend, but as you reflected on it, you realized that there were also many reasons for you to stay together, especially when he reached for your hand and held it firmly in his grasp.

You were unable to contain your excitement and bubbling with melodious giggles that he adored so much as he whisked you away from Kumamoto in favor of the last bullet train to Kyoto, where your long-awaited true vacation would begin.

Epilogue

“I told you this was a horrible idea. I fucking told you.”

"Can you blame me? Dude was about to throttle me in my sleep."

"Geto," Shoko scowled, her disbelief at his simple answer evident as she gestured wildly with both hands towards the wrecked lavatory, emphasizing her point. "Look—now that he had gone and done it, we're the ones footing the bill for the destruction of property!"

Gojo had blasted the washroom with a freaking Red. And the innkeeper promptly held both Shoko and Suguru responsible since their roommates were captured on CCTV and had vanished without a trace.

Suguru rubbed his neck sheepishly. "I genuinely thought it was a good idea. I didn't expect Satoru to go overboard though," then he threw her a stink eye. "And hey, you were complicit in this too!"

Shoko mumbled a string of curses as she pulled out her phone, snapping some pictures of the undeniable evidence of Gojo’s doing, and then made a call. Suguru frowned.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm reporting him to the headquarters!"

[domjaehyun]

the boy is mine (l.dh) — part three

PAIRING. haechan x fem!reader GENRES. smut, angst WORD COUNT. 17.9k CONTENTS. infidelity, alcohol & weed consumption (MC is a non-smoker if that matters to you), explicit smut (dirty talk, fingering, finger sucking, oral (receiving), rimming (receiving), groping/frottage, marking, spit play, (brief) ear play, breast play, creampies/unprotected sex (if you explicitly need me, a stranger on the internet, to tell you not to fuck raw, you are not responsible enough to be reading this. move along now), snowballing, public sex, car sex, riding, bratty dom-leaning switch!haechan, bratty sub-leaning switch!reader, sweet dom!jeno, face riding, handjob, overstimulation (receiving), praise kink (receiving), light degradation kink (giving), mating press, morning sex) NOTES. here’s part three!! i hope you enjoy it!! please leave feedback if you liked it :) i would also greatly appreciate tips if you really liked it :3 THANK YOU LIKE THE HUUUUUGEST THANK YOU TO BRI (@jalitepng) FOR BETA READING THIS BIG OL FIC :D  PLAYLIST. the boy is mine - ariana grande // fantasize - ariana grande (unreleased) // lowkey (feat. erykah badu) - teyana taylor // agora hills - doja cat // pussy is mine - miguel // softest touch - khalid // cut - tori kelly // seatbelt - josh levi // often - doja cat // surrender - nbdy

NEED TO CATCH UP? here’s a link to the fic masterlist :)

The following morning you’re bustling about, trying to clean up after your guests from last night, when your doorbell rings.

Confused, you head to your front door and peek through the peephole, your confusion only building as you open the door to a brightly smiling Haechan.

“Good morning!” Haechan chirps, and you blink at him in confusion.

“Good morning,” you answer suspiciously. 

“I brought you an iced chai,” he says, bringing it out from where he was holding it behind his back. “And a croissant, if you want one?” 

“Aw, wait, really?” you ask, pleasantly surprised. “Why?” you follow up immediately, scrutinizing him. 

“Because I figured you might want something to drink and snack on?” he replies slowly, confused. 

“Oh.” You do. “I do.” you confirm, reaching forward to take the food from his hands. “Thank you.” Your words are sincere, and by the slightly bashful edge to his smile, Haechan can tell.

“I also came to help you clean up.” he announces proudly. 

“Really?” you question, puzzled. “Why?” you ask again, even more confused.

“I figured you’d like help.” he answers with a shrug.

“Oh.” You would. “I would.” 

He blinks at you. “So are you going to let me in?”

“Oh, right! Come in,” you laugh, ushering him into your apartment and shutting the door behind him.

“By the way, eat that quickly or hide it, because I forgot to get something for Yunjin and I don’t want her to get mad at me.” he urges as he kicks his shoes off.

“Copy that.” you snicker in amusement. “Well, what’s compelling you to be so helpful and thoughtful today?”

“Trying to make a good impression,” he answers simply, looking over his shoulder at you as he heads toward your living room. “Oh, it’s really not that bad.” he notes, both surprised and relieved, and you smile in mild amusement.

“Well, yes, I already started.” you laugh, handing him your garbage bag. “Here, take this one, and I’ll get a new one.” 

He complies and starts picking up garbage; napkins, cups, the like. Meanwhile, you’re sweeping crumbs into the dustpan before you become acutely aware of Haechan’s eyes on your ass. 

You straighten up and put your hands on your hips, shooting Haechan a stern look.

“Haechan.” 

“Mm?” His eyes drift up to meet your gaze.

“Stop staring at my ass.” 

He arches an eyebrow. “So I can eat your ass—”

“Haechan!”

“But I can’t stare at it a little?” He meets your incredulous stare with a challenging expression.

“Keep your voice down.”

“Why? You don’t want Yunjin to hear how I made you cum all over my tongue last night?” he teases in a hushed murmur.

You attempt to hide the way your knees almost buckle. “No, and you don’t, either! That would ruin everything.” you insist, and he rolls his eyes.

“Why?” he questions, and you give him a disapproving glance. 

“Think, Haechan.”

“But—”

“Nope.”

“I just think—”

“Haechan?”

He sighs in defeat. “Yes?”

“Change the topic or leave my apartment.”

He frowns at you, sighing loudly, before raising his hands in surrender. It’s quiet for a bit, the only sounds being you two cleaning up before he breaks the silence.

“So, did you like my costume last night?” he asks casually.

“It was, um, out of the box for sure.” you reply carefully with a little giggle that slips out.

He pouts at you. “Is that a no?”

You can’t contain your now building laughter. “Yes, it’s a no.”

He huffs petulantly, shoving a red Solo cup into his trash bag more forcefully than normal as you giggle to yourself. “Maybe I should have dressed up as a cowboy so you could ride me.” He hums suggestively, and your breath catches in your throat, making you cough and hack before desperately sucking in gulps of air.

“Hell is probably hotter than that costume you had on yesterday, by the way.” you warn in a hoarse voice, crossing around the couch to take a sip of the iced chai latte he brought you, and he shrugs.

“Doubt it.” He leans over the back of the couch so he’s blocking your way. “If I was a cowboy, would you wear my hat?” he breathes, wild eyes gazing at your lips with a hunger that half unnerves you and half thrills you. “Hm? Let me use my lasso to tie you up?”

“Haechan–”

“Bet you’d look so pretty like that,” he grunts breathlessly, and you take a nervous sip of your drink, swallowing thickly.

How in the hell is he pulling you with a costume he’s not even wearing?

and it’s me and you, no she tryna be all through your sheets

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re not even the tiniest bit into it.”

“Into what? Bondage?”

He gives you a look. “No.”

“Cowboys?”

“Are you messing with me or do I need to spell it out clearly for you?”

You shrug. “Try spelling it.” As you turn to walk away, he catches your wrist and tugs until you’re stumbling towards him once more. He cups your chin in his palm and holds firmly so you can’t tug away easily. 

“You want me to spell it?” he murmurs. “I want you. I want you right now, and I didn't come all the way here to dance around the conversation. So I'm gonna kiss you. if you want me to stop, just—slap me or something.” he says in a rushed string of words before connecting your lips in a searing, passionate kiss.

have you all on top of me actin’ like it’s not that deep

To your embarrassment, you all but melt into his touch, whimpering into the kiss as he adjusts his hold on your chin to pull you closer. When you two part, his eyes are still wild and trained on you but darting around your face. 

“What are you looking at?” you ask, amused.

“You,” he answers breathlessly. “You didn’t slap me.”

“Figured you might be into that shit,” you murmur, gazing up at him with a wry smile. 

“Bullshit,” he chuckles, pulling you closer. “You liked that kiss.”

“Maybe a little bit.” you admit. “Why? You gonna snitch on me?”

“Nah,” he assures you. “I am gonna do it again though.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Right here,” he announces before kissing you again. “And here,” he murmurs before attaching his lips to your neck and sucking gently. When you whimper and clutch at his shirt, he grins and laps over the patch of skin before pulling back. “And if you’re feeling nice, maybe I'll get to kiss you here.” He trails his fingers down your front until they’re dipping into the front of your underwear and shorts. He tugs at the waistband teasingly, pretending to peek inside, and giggles when you swat his hand away. “C’mon, baby, be nice to me.” he purrs, and something in you quivers with desire. 

“Haechan,” you whine dazedly, and he kisses you again, grinning against your lips.

“Are you gonna be nice to me?” he asks teasingly, and you groan in agitation.

“Kiss me.” you reply stubbornly, and he chuckles.

“Is this you being nice?” 

“Kiss me and you’ll see how nice I can be.” you urge, and he raises an eyebrow before connecting your lips again. The kiss deepens almost instantly, with you leaning forward when he pulls back slightly, and his surprised moan is enough to spur you on further. 

You tug him closer, Haechan clumsily clambering over the couch until he’s standing in front of you. He gapes at you in surprise before his gaze drops to your lips and you simultaneously pull each other closer for another kiss. He sits on the couch with a plop and tugs you onto his lap so you’re straddling him with your knees sinking into the cushions on either side of him. When you drape your arms around his neck and toy with the locks of hair on the nape of his neck lazily, he lets out a dreamy sigh and tilts his head to allow you more access.

“Pretty girl, you’re being so nice to me,” he coos happily. “Feels like I’m in heaven.”

“Told you,” you reply breathlessly, and his smile widens as a playful glint grows in his eyes.

“Are you gonna be this nice to me?” he murmurs, reaching between you two and hovering his hand over your core as if to cup it. He looks up at you curiously, and you sink down into his hand with a pleased sigh. “God, you’re perfect,” he grunts in awe, kissing you again as he lets you rock into his hand.

“More,” you breathe urgently, trying not to roll your eyes at the smug satisfaction rippling off of him in waves.

“Let me taste you.” 

“What?” you mumble, surprised. 

“What?” he mimics you, chuckling. “I want,” he starts slowly, digging the heel of his hand into your core so you can rut your clothed clit against it, “to taste you,” he murmurs against your lips and strokes his fingers along the seat of your shorts teasingly. “So be nice and let me do it.”

If you weren’t already convinced, his tongue teases your lips apart before he slips it into your mouth and strokes at your own tongue with such expertise that your mind reels, leaving you craving his head between your legs. 

You place your hand on the crown of his head and, when he looks up at you questioningly, push his head down your body gently. He grins and cups your breasts, pushing them together before licking up your cleavage.

He switches you two around so you’re sitting on the couch and he’s kneeling between your legs and he hooks his fingers in your shorts and underwear, prepared to pull them down, before you squeal and stop him.

“Wait, but—this is my couch,” you complain breathlessly. “I don’t wanna make a mess on my couch—”

“How about your rug?” he rasps, and you blink at him, dazed and confused from his kisses. 

“Huh?”

“Can we make a mess on your rug?” he asks urgently, and you nod as soon as the words process in your mind, yelping in surprise when he yanks you unceremoniously so you’re sliding off of the couch and onto his kneeling lap. He pulls your underwear and shorts down as far as they can go with him in the way before he sucks his teeth and scoots back, your ass coming into contact with your rug as he tugs your clothing down further and ducks under where the garments link your legs together, settling between your legs with a satisfied hum. “Finally,” he purrs, then seals his lips around your clit.

You moan in surprise as he tongues at the sensitive bud, massaging the underside of the bundle of nerves and steadying your thighs as they threaten to push his head out.

“Why are you running from it, baby?” he murmurs as you squirm away from him. It’s everything you want, yet it’s too much all at once, the fear of getting caught, the guilt of what you’re doing— “Relax; you want this.”

You don’t know if your struggle was showing on your face, but he’s spoken directly to your core—no pun intended. You’re not sure if it’s that you’re relaxing your muscles or he’s just genuinely stronger than you, but your legs remain open, his tongue fervently lapping at your core as ​​it drips arousal. 

He moans weakly as he eats you out, desperate little whimpers slipping from both of you as his tongue explores your folds. 

“So good,” you whisper dreamily, eyes rolling back in your head. You tip your head back onto the couch cushion and reach up to grope your breasts under your shirt.

“Wanna see,” he grunts, yanking your shirt up past your bra to watch you grope at your chest, squeezing the flesh and teasing your nipples. “Fuck—”

“Haechan, I need to cum,” you exhale shakily, and he nods, keeping his eyes on you as he swirls his tongue around your core more insistently. The more he licks, the closer you feel and in a moment you’re helplessly rolling your hips against his face as he licks you to a climax that has you clamping your hand over your mouth to muffle the moans you’re letting out. 

“That’s it, baby, let go,” he slurs, words muffled from his face being buried between your legs. 

As your body gradually comes down from your high, you shift your weight onto your butt as you attempt to get up, but Haechan untangles himself from your clothing and sits up on his heels again, fingers unbuckling his belt and opening his jeans as his other hand grabs for you. 

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you again. “You really thought you were gonna get away that easily?” he chuckles, eyeing you up and down. “Looking as good as you do?” 

“I need a minute,” you say breathlessly, and he hums in acknowledgement, taking his time pushing his jeans and boxers down to below his knees. He strokes himself slowly as he watches your chest heave to catch your breath, your undone state riling him up even more until he’s gingerly draping your legs on either side of his lap and pulling you so your ass is resting on his knees and his tip is aligned with your entrance. 

“Ready?” he asks in a strained voice as he glides the tip of his length up and down your folds to coat himself in your arousal.

“Mhm—” you whimper, and he pushes into you slowly, a slow rush of air leaving your lungs as he fills you up. “Fuck, so full—”

“Take it all, baby,” he urges between gently shushing you. “You know you missed this dick.”

“Jesus, Haechan,” you mutter in surprise, dazzled yet again by how slick his mouth is.

“Am I wrong?” he presses, and you fall silent, looking elsewhere. He snickers and continues, “I thought so. You love this dick—”

“Shut up—”

“Love the way I fuck you, yeah? The way I fill you up just right—love feeling me nice and deep in this pretty pussy—you can’t get enough of me—” Punctuating his words with slow rolls of his hips, he grips the hair at the nape of your neck and pulls your mouth to his.

“Haechan—” you start, but he speeds up without a moment’s notice, the protest choking off in your throat. If you could compose yourself, you would have retorted with something about how Haechan showed up to your apartment at ten in the morning with food and volunteered to help you clean… just for another chance at having sex with you, so you couldn’t possibly be the down bad one in this scenario. 

However, his strokes feel so good that you’re not left with much other choice but to overlook his cocky remark, your jaw falling open silently as he tilts his head forward to kiss and suck and nip at your neck. 

When a weak whimper escapes you, he coos fondly and kisses his way up to your cheek, lips pressing into the squishy flesh delightedly before kissing the corner of your mouth. When you turn your face to his, he kisses you again, sucking on your tongue lewdly before pulling back and gazing down at you. 

“Baby,” he coos sweetly, “are you about to cum?”

“Yeah,” you whine, nodding vigorously. “Yeah, I’m gonna cum—”

“Cum, baby,” he urges desperately, connecting his lips with yours once more. “Wanna feel you cum on me again—”

“Fuck,” you moan dangerously loudly, the sound ushering in your climax. Your body curling in on itself, your hips roll jerkily against his own as you ride out your high and let out lowly whimpered swears and mumbles of Haechan’s name.

“I’m gonna cum—” Haechan warns, and you nod with half-lidded eyes and a dopey smile.

“Cum, Haechan,” you hum encouragingly, clenching around him for good measure, and he lets out a choked groan before resting his forehead against yours, hips stuttering and chest heaving in an attempt to catch his breath. The warmth of his seed fills you, the sensation so intense that you almost wonder if you’re leaking out onto the carpet.

“God, you’re so good to me,” he mutters breathlessly, his forehead still pressed against yours. “So fucking good and tight and warm and wet—”

“Haechan, I hate to interrupt you as you wax poetic about my pussy,” you drawl drily, “but we need to get up and get dressed before Yunjin comes out.”

“You’re right,” he mumbles, reluctantly climbing to his feet before helping you up. It’s a bit undignified, pulling your underwear and shorts up from where they lay at your ankles, and the cool, wet sensation at the seat of your underwear is nothing short of unpleasant, but when you catch Haechan’s eye and he grins at you, suddenly you don’t think you mind all that much.

You and Haechan make quick work of cleaning your apartment from the disarray left behind from your party, the two of you collapsing onto the couch as you sip happily at your iced chai and eat your croissant.

Not a moment too soon after you’ve finished your mini meal and disposed of the cup and wrapper does a sleepy Yunjin emerge from the hallway, scratching her head and yawning.

“Good morning!” you chirp, and she offers a sleepy smile and wave before squinting at Haechan for an uncomfortably long time.

“Morning! What’s he doing here?” she asks, confused as she points at him.

“He would appreciate a greeting as well,” Haechan huffs, and she rolls her eyes.

“Hi, Haechan.”

“Hi.”

“What are you doing here?” she repeats, and he gestures around at the now clean apartment.

“Came to help clean up.”

“Aw, that’s nice of you.” she coos fondly, and it’s a testament to how groggy she is that she doesn’t think to ask why. “Well, I’m hungry. I’m about to make breakfast; do either of you want some?”

“Hm, what are you making?” you ask curiously.

“Waffles and eggs and sausage.” she replies, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Oh, yum. Yes, please.” you agree, and Haechan nods eagerly beside you.

“Great. Lemme go wash up.” she mumbles before turning and heading back down the hallway.

“Now I feel kinda bad I didn’t get Yunjin any food,” Haechan mutters with a sheepish chuckle.

“You can make it up to her next time you show up at my apartment with snacks and nefarious intent.”

“Nefarious intent is crazy.” he snorts loudly, and you shrug dismissively.

“It’s the perfect way to describe it! You came here on an evil mission with an iced beverage, a flaky pastry, and a dream.” 

“An evil mission? A dick appointment is an evil mission now?” he chuckles, his laughter building gradually as you nod.

“It’s evil when you’re supposed to be dicking down your girlfriend and not me, you adulterer. Speaking of, when’s the last time you paid some attention to her, hm?” you muse, and he raises his eyebrow.

“First of all, I don’t think that’s your business.”

“I don’t think it’s your business to tell me what my business is or isn’t if you’ve dragged me into the middle of said business.” you huff, turning your nose up, and he rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Second of all, I texted her earlier saying good morning and I hope she slept well.” he replies as if that was even close to being good enough.

“Aw, then the Boyfriend of the Year followed up his good partner deed by committing adultery—”

“Will you keep your voice down?” he whispers insistently, and you sniff disdainfully but oblige, falling silent. “Don’t act innocent, either—you had sex with me back! It was a mutual sexing!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” you reply stubbornly.

“Tell that to my cum leaking out of you as we speak—” he starts, but cuts himself off immediately at the sound of approaching footsteps.

Yunjin looks fresh-faced and significantly more awake than before, your roommate and best friend shooting you a bright smile before heading into the kitchen.

“Come on,” you urge, standing up and gesturing for Haechan to follow you.

He gives you a confused look but stands up nonetheless, tilting his head to the side questioningly. “Where are we going?”

“To keep Yunjin company.” you explain. “It’s our civil duty to keep the cook entertained while she makes food for us, you know.”  

“Ah, I see.” he nods in understanding before gesturing for you to walk to the kitchen. When you turn your back to him, he pinches your ass cheek and giggles when you whirl around to scowl at him. “Come on, she’s waiting.”

As you follow Haechan into the kitchen, you think about how he’s definitely quite the handful and wonder to yourself how you’re going to manage juggling your new secret and keeping the peace and harmony of your friend group.

“Haechan, you want chocolate chips in your waffles?” Yunjin asks over her shoulder as she pulls ingredients from the fridge.

“Nah, I’m good.” he replies, and she nods, turning to look at you expectantly.

“What about you, babe?” she questions, and you scrunch your face up thoughtfully before nodding. 

“Yeah, but not too many.” you answer, and she purses her lips pensively as she nods in understanding.

“Got it.” she confirms before turning to mix the waffle batter. “So, Haechan, did you enjoy the party last night?”

“It was a dream come true,” he gushes happily, shooting a surreptitious glance in your direction that Yunjin thankfully misses due to her attention being on the mixing bowl.

“Oh, yeah?” Yunjin chuckles, amused, and Haechan nods even though she can’t see him.

“Wanna relive it over and over,” he murmurs, looking at you with a loaded gaze, and you roll your eyes.

“Oh, brother.” you mutter to yourself, rubbing a hand over your face as you chuckle.

You really will have your hands full with him.

So you were right: ever since you and Haechan had sex at your Halloween party (and the morning after), you can’t seem to stop sneaking around with him. No matter how hard you try, and how determined and convincing you try to sound each time you tell him that you two are done hooking up, you somehow always find your way back in his oh-so-persistent clutches. 

The main thing that’s worrying you, though, besides the very obvious betrayal of your friend that’s taking place, is that he seems to be getting a bit too comfortable and far too reckless.

You’re having a friend group sleepover at Mark’s and Jeno’s apartment and you’re passing by each other in the hallway as he returns from the bathroom and you head toward the kitchen when he slides his arm around your waist and tugs you abruptly so you’re sent stumbling into his waiting embrace.

kissing and hope they caught us, whether they like it or not i wanna show you off, i wanna show you off

When you glower up at him, he only offers a suggestive grin and a flirtatious wink in response, looking around briefly before pulling you closer into him for a sudden, captivating kiss. His lips move with yours smoothly, a content sigh leaving his chest as his hold on you tightens. 

You can feel your muscles gradually relaxing as he kisses you and you even go so far as to loop your arms around his neck, his lips curling instantly into a smile as he pulls back slightly to study your now-dazed expression.

“What was that for?” you ask breathlessly, and he just continues to stare, studying your lips so intently that you wonder momentarily if he even heard your question.

After what feels like ages of him committing your every feature and detail to memory, he looks back up at you with a deceptively innocent smile.

“You just look so good,” he groans, leaning in to kiss you again. “Couldn’t help myself.”

You attempt to mask your flustered state with a dismissive roll of your eyes, but your growing smile gives you away, and he mirrors your expression, a sweet, boyish smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“Well, get a hold of yourself, sir,” you admonish him gently, moving to pull away. “You can’t just be grabbing me and kissing me whenever you please.”

Instead of letting you extract yourself from his embrace, he doubles down, wrapping both arms around the small of your back and pulling you flush against his chest.

“Mm, but what if I really want to grab you and kiss you?” he breathes, trying his best to stay focused on your eyes and not lower his gaze to your mouth.

“That’s too bad.” you shrug nonchalantly, and he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “Now release me.”

“I don’t think I will, actually. Kinda like how you feel in my arms.” he says with a bright grin, and you falter, not quite expecting how earnest his words were.

“Sir, unhand me.” you turn your face away from him as he leans in to kiss you again, and the soft growl of frustration that he lets out most certainly is not lost on you.

Never one to back down, he dips his head lower and kisses every part of you he can reach, from your cheeks to your jaw down to your pulse point. Your resolve weakens with every strategically placed kiss from his lips and he hums in satisfaction before swiping his tongue along your collarbones, making you shudder involuntarily.

“Haechan, you really should let me go before someone comes looking for us.” you warn gently, and he groans in protest, frowning down at you endearingly.

“You’re lucky we’re not alone.” he says finally as he releases you, and you stop in your tracks, your curiosity piqued. 

“Oh, yeah? Why is that?”

“If it was just you and me right now, you’d be leaving this hallway with a lot more messed up than just some smeared lip gloss.” 

You scoff lightly in an attempt to brush off his comment, but you can’t help but feel a fluttering sensation in your stomach. “Speaking of lip gloss,” you mumble as you step closer, “I think you’ve still got some on you.” You reach up and wipe the remainder of your sheer pink gloss from his lips and the neighboring area with your thumb, carefully avoiding his unrelenting gaze. Apparently unsatisfied with your refusal to make eye contact, he chases after the pad of your thumb with his tongue, chuckling when you let out a startled noise and retract your hand quickly.

“Quit being a menace and get back out there before someone gets suspicious.” you whisper-scold him, your words seeming to have the opposite of the desired effect as he raises his eyebrows in a wordless challenge.

“Mm, I kinda like when you boss me around.” he muses, tilting his head to the side as he watches you. 

This time, the eyeroll you give him is genuine. “See you out there, Haechan.” You walk past him and continue on your way to the kitchen, waiting until you’re alone to lean against the fridge and attempt to collect yourself, using the cool surface of the metal refrigerator to soothe your heated skin and hopefully steady the pace of your rapidly beating heart.

“Literally what am I going to do with him?” you mutter to yourself.

Nothing, dummy. You should actually be doing nothing with him because, in case you’ve forgotten, he’s already dating someone.

You catch yourself scowling at your thoughts, breathing in deeply before opening the fridge, grabbing a can of Diet Pepsi and heading back to the living room.

“Can we as a collective stop hogging the pepperoni?” Yunjin huffs, scowling as she snatches the bag of pepperoni off of the countertop by where Chenle and Jeno are standing.

“Jeez, here comes the Pizza Police,” Haechan chuckles, and you bite back a laugh just in time for Yunjin to look over in your direction and scowl at Haechan.

“Don’t enable him!” she scolds you, and you raise your hands defensively.

“I wasn’t!” you exclaim, and she narrows her eyes suspiciously before turning back to her meticulously decorated pizza and starting to carefully place her pepperoni.

Haechan crosses behind you to grab the cup of pineapple for his pizza and you hesitate when you realize he hasn’t yet moved from behind you. The two of you are a little ways away from the rest of the group, with you two facing the majority of your friends but positioned behind the kitchen island slightly out of sight. 

Reaching forward for the mozzarella cheese, he pushes up against you, his chest pressed against your back as he hums softly against your ear. 

“What are you—” you start to whisper, but he shushes you immediately. 

“Don’t draw attention,” he breathes, and you go still, waiting with bated breath. His fingers drop to stroke your thigh and creep higher and higher until they’re trailing along where your asscheek and your thigh meet. When you squirm anxiously, he leans in, pressing you against the counter harder so you can’t wiggle away. “Stop moving. You like that?”

The only sound you can make without drawing attention to yourself is a whimper of assent and he laughs quietly, slipping his fingers between your legs from behind and stroking along the seat of your leggings just over your core. 

“So warm,” he purrs in your ear as he works his fingers against your clothed core, the tips of his fingers pushing against the underside of your clit and making you gasp and look for something to occupy yourself. You take a handful of mozzarella cheese and start to sprinkle it over your pizza only to accidentally drop a fistful unceremoniously in the center when he starts massaging your clit in rapid little circles. “Bet you’d feel so good around me right now.”

“Shut up,” you hiss, and he snickers.

“Only because I don’t want the fun to end,” he murmurs, rubbing your clit faster as you clumsily redistribute the cheese in the middle of your pizza to the edges of the uncooked dough. 

“Cut it out, you’re gonna make me cum,” you whine, and he hums sympathetically.

“What, you wouldn’t like that? Hm?” he teases, lips right by your ear as his fingers speed up, sending you closer and closer to your climax. “You don’t want me to make you cum in front of all our friends?”

“No,” you protest weakly, and he coos affectionately.

“You sure? They might want to see how pretty you look when you’re cumming on my fingers.” he muses, and you squirm again in an attempt to free yourself before an idea occurs to you.

“You want Jeno to know what I look like when I cum?” you ask breathlessly, voice barely above a whisper, and his fingers halt instantly. He pauses for a moment, presumably thinking it over, before withdrawing his fingers from between your legs. “Thought so.”

“Shut up,” Haechan mutters with a chuckle before moving from behind you and towards the sink, where he washes his hands and dries them before returning to his spot beside you. “You’re lucky I don’t want to share you, or I would have made you finish right here.”

“I don’t doubt that, actually,” you reply with mild amusement before you return to decorating your pizza, trying all the while to push down the thought that Winter probably would not want to be sharing her boyfriend with you if she knew about what you and Haechan had going on. 

You try not to let it sour your mood, but the guilt inevitably settles in, making you feel more withdrawn from your friends for the rest of the pizza baking activity.

It’s later that same night and you’re half asleep in your sleeping bag on the carpet of Mark’s bedroom when you hear a rhythmic rustling sound that seems to be getting louder. 

You peek over your shoulder as subtly as you can to see Haechan strategically rolling in his sleeping bag to approach you. Facing front again, you can’t help but stifle a giggle at the ridiculousness of it all, the cut off giggle manifesting as a loud splutter of amusement when his sleeping bag collides with yours.

“Haechan, what is wrong with you?” you whisper incredulously, peering across the dimly lit room to see if Chaewon’s stirred from her sleep or if Mark’s roused at all.

“Can’t sleep,” he says with a sigh, and you roll your eyes while he still can’t see you. “Turn around, I didn’t roll over here to stare at your back.”

“Oh, you could’ve fooled me,” you remark sarcastically. “I thought you were in the mood to ogle at this sexy patterned synthetic nylon sleeping bag of mine.” 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, you’re so funny, I know,” Haechan remarks drily. “Now turn around.”

You grouch and grumble and groan, but you most certainly do turn around, now facing a smiling Haechan.

“Hi, pretty.” he greets quietly, eyes bright with affection, and you roll your eyes in a feeble attempt to hide how flustered he’s made you with a simple greeting.

“Hi, Haechan,” you murmur quietly, and he pouts.

“I called you pretty, can’t you compliment me back?” he asks, and you blink twice.

“Hi, handsome,” you coo, and his eyes widen, Haechan blinking several times in a stunned silence before focusing in on you with a sudden intensity that makes you gulp.

“Definitely do that more often,” he mumbles, gaze dropping to your lips. “As a matter of fact—come here.”

“I’m already here, what more do you want?” you snort in amusement, and he sighs before unzipping his sleeping bag and doing the same to yours, tying the two together at the top so they’re crudely linked together by the straps before you can protest. “Wh—? I feel like you basically just handcuffed yourself to me.”

“Oh, hush,” Haechan chuckles, shifting closer to you with a content sigh. “That’d be kind of hot, though.” 

“Shut up,” you laugh quietly, and you feel his hand slip around your waist and under your shirt to graze your skin, making you gasp softly as he pulls you closer. “Stop, your hands are cold.” you complain, and he nuzzles his face into your neck, breathing in deeply.

“Then come here and warm me up, baby.” he purrs, and your eyes widen, lips barking out a dangerously loud laugh of surprise as you move to pull back from him—an action which would have had more impact if Haechan hadn’t clocked your intentions immediately and gripped you tighter so you couldn’t move away.

“That was painfully cheesy,” you complain in a low murmur, and he smiles, wiggling his eyebrows.

“It made you smile, though,” he points out, leaning forward and pressing a quick kiss to your lips and continuing on over your muffled yelp of shock, “so I think it was worth it.”

“You need to go back over there before you fall asleep here.” you whisper worriedly, and he waves you off dismissively. 

“You owe me something,” he reminds you with a knowing smile that would probably be a lot more meaningful if you knew what the hell he was talking about.

“Haechan?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“Earlier during pizza time,” he brings up with an exasperated roll of his eyes. “I had to stop what I was doing to you; we never got to finish.”

“You want to make… me… finish? Right now?” you whisper incredulously, and he nods with a dazzling grin.

“I sure do, pretty girl. Now be good and open your legs for me a little bit, yeah?” he murmurs, hand snaking down your body and into your sleep shorts, fingertips dancing teasingly along the warm seat of your underwear.

“Haechan,” you whine faintly, and he shushes you with a soft kiss on the lips.

“If you thought you had any chance of me letting up on you,” he begins, lips brushing against yours as he speaks, “you effectively kissed that goodbye when you whined my name all pretty like that.” And without another word, he brings his hand from your shorts and gently pushes two fingers into your mouth for you to suck. “That’s it,” he whispers, eyes blazing as he moves closer to you until your noses are practically touching. 

When he’s satisfied, he pulls his fingers from your mouth, inspecting them thoroughly as they glisten with your saliva in the scarce streaks of moonlight on the floor, before winking at you and sucking on his fingers as well, making a small gasp escape you.

“What was the point of me doing it, then?” you huff, and he smiles around his fingers.

“I just wanted to taste you again,” he says, pulling his fingers from his mouth with a cheeky grin and maneuvering them back into your underwear, this time wasting not a single moment before pushing them into you. His lips fall on yours instantly, silencing your quiet keens and whimpers with slow, languid movements of his lips and teasing, almost lazy strokes of his tongue that mimic the way his fingers move inside of you.

The sleeping bags lend nothing as far as maintaining discretion, the noisy fabrics rustling together rhythmically as his fingers move in and out of you, twisting and curling as they become intimately familiar with the feeling of your walls wrapped around them and clenching with desire. 

Thankfully, any other noises you two make are nothing more than pants and quiet whispers of swears, the occasional stray whine from you being mostly muffled by his kisses. 

“Listen, baby,” he whispers in a low hush, moving his fingers in and out of you faster. “Listen to how wet your little pussy gets for me.”

“Fuck—” you hiss when the wet sounds of his fingers moving against and between your folds make it to your ears, and he chuckles, the sound low in his chest.

“You want me to make you cum?” he asks with a twinkle in his eye. When you nod, he grins widely and nods back at you in understanding before massaging your clit with the palm of his hand as his fingers fuck into you. “Say it.”

“Make me cum, Haechan, please?” you whisper with a teary-eyed pout, and he wets his lips slowly, eyes darkening with desire, before his fingers curl into you just the right way at the right time for you to come undone, spilling all over his hand as you bury your face in his neck to collect yourself. 

His fingers slowly come to a stop once he’s milked your orgasm as far as it’ll go and he gently pulls them out of you, laughing when you immediately and pointedly avert your gaze.

“Look at what I did to you,” he urges, and when he’s certain you’ve peeked at the glistening strings of arousal connecting his splayed-out fingers, he sticks his tongue out teasingly as if to lick them, and you squeak, covering your eyes immediately.

“Don’t be obscene,” you half-whisper, half-beg, and he sighs loudly. “The bathroom is literally right there. Just take your sleeping bag and when you come back, just go to the right side and go to sleep.”

“Fine,” he huffs with an air of petulance, and you can’t help but roll your eyes at his antics. “Gimme a good night kiss, then.”

“One.” you stress, and he nods in understanding.

“One.” he confirms, and you shift forward, kissing him sweetly on the lips. When you two break apart, his lips chase after yours for more, his eyes still closed, and you have to gently hold his chin and shake his head from side to side to snap him out of it. “Sorry,” he apologizes, and you wave him off with a smile.

“It’s okay. Now go,” you stress, pushing him away from you.

“Okay, okay, I’m going,” he mumbles, untying your sleeping bags, and stands up, rolling his sleeping bag up and gingerly lying it down to his spot on the opposite corner of Chaewon. 

You don’t even bother to watch him to make sure he goes to the bathroom, you just flop over on your side and start trying to go back to sleep, doing your best to ignore the sticky wet sensation between your legs. 

Before long, you’re drifting off to sleep where you dream of warm brown eyes and a constellation of beauty marks.

After waking up and washing up, you shuffle drowsily into the kitchen, where Mark and Chenle are standing at the island counter with their backs to you, talking to each other in low, urgent voices.

“Morning,” you yawn, waving to get their attention, and they turn at the sound of your voice, immediately trying to play off whatever they were just doing.

“Hey!” Mark greets you a bit too enthusiastically, and you freeze, your eyes narrowing suspiciously.

“...Hey…” you say slowly, looking between Mark and Chenle in an attempt to assess whatever’s going on. “What are you two doing?”

“Nothing, really,” Mark answers quickly, only heightening your suspicions. 

“I would wager that your ‘nothing’ is, in fact, something. People don’t stand over the kitchen sink whispering urgently about nothing.” you point out, and Chenle sighs in frustration, shooting Mark a glare out of the side of his eye.

“Fine. You want to know what we’re doing, right?” Chenle asks, and you nod. “We’re trying to figure out what you’re doing.”

You pause, tilting your head to the side in confusion. “I’m standing here, trying to decide what I want for breakfast.”

Chenle laughs humorlessly, shaking his head and wagging his finger at you condescendingly. “No, that’s not quite what we’re talking about.” He leans against the kitchen counter and crosses his arms, regarding you with a raised eyebrow. “We’re trying to figure out what you’re doing with Haechan specifically.”

You balk, blinking erratically before shifting your gaze from Chenle’s scrutinous eyes to Mark’s worried ones.

“You know what is so crazy? I think I’m sleepwalking right now.” you lie, waving your hand at them dismissively. “Don’t mind me, I’m gonna go back to bed and try to wake up the right way.” You turn, starting to make a hurried escape for anywhere but the kitchen, but Chenle calls your name sternly, making you whine to yourself in protest before you slowly turn back around to face them.

“Don’t lie. What’s going on with you two?” Chenle presses, and you purse your lips.

“Well, what exactly do you two know?” you ask, looking down at your hands to inspect your nails.

“I know that I heard you two giggling and kissing in the hallway yesterday afternoon.” Mark says, and you wince.

“I knew that was risky.” you mutter.

“I also know that he was most definitely touching you behind that island you two were sharing when we made pizza last night.” Chenle adds, and you frown deeply, feeling embarrassed and guilty. “For what it’s worth, you yourself were actually very subtle.” he supplies in an attempt to make you feel better.

“Well, then how’d you know?” you ask, still frowning.

“Haechan tends to look at you like he’s one second away from devouring you at any given moment.” Chenle says, running a hand over his face. “I’m pretty sure that anyone with any level of observational skills would be able to catch that.” 

“Fuck,” you grumble, shifting your weight from foot to foot before you stiffen, looking up in horror. “Wait, does that mean—?”

“No, Winter doesn’t know.” Chenle’s one step ahead of you, and you practically collapse in relief. “We’re not gonna tell her, either.”

You look between them, the picture of surprise and confusion, before it hits you and you slump in defeat. “Let me guess; you want me to be the one to tell her.”

“What? No,” Mark says, brows furrowed in confusion. “Ideally, she never finds out.”

You nod slowly, fully in agreement but still confused as to what exactly the point of this confrontation is.

“So, what exactly was the plan here?” you finally ask, still lost, and Chenle stops leaning against the counter to stand up straight.

“You’re gonna stop sneaking around with Haechan,” he says, “plain and simple.”

“I hear you,” you say, nodding slowly, “I do. I agree wholeheartedly. There’s just one problem.”

“Come on, the dick can’t be that good,” Chenle scoffs incredulously, and you splutter indignantly, shaking your head vehemently. 

“Not what I was going to say.” you clarify as soon as you’ve regained your composure. “The problem is that he won’t exactly… leave me alone.”

“We know,” Mark and Chenle reply in unison.

“Oop–”

“I think you should start distancing yourself from him,” Mark suggests helpfully. “I think he’ll get the hint and move on eventually.”

“You’re probably right.” you say after doing a bit of thinking, and Mark nods. “I have a question,” you start, already embarrassed by how your voice seems to shrink in on itself.

“What’s up?” Chenle asks.

You fiddle with your hands, taking a moment to muster up the nerve to ask your question. “Don’t you guys, y’know… think poorly of me now?”

Mark and Chenle look at each other with almost identical confused faces before turning back to you. 

“No?” Mark finally says, and you pause, not expecting that answer.

“...Why not?”

“Well, don’t get me wrong; this isn’t exactly something that people with strong morals would do.” Mark says, clearly choosing his words carefully. “But I know you—we know you—and we’ve known you for long enough to know that you’re not a bad person.”

You could cry, you’re so relieved. “Thanks, guys.”

“Don’t sweat it,” Chenle shrugs. “So you’re gonna distance yourself, right?”

“Yeah,” you agree readily, and he nods in approval.

“And you don’t have, like, feelings for him or anything, right?” Mark asks.

“Wh–no? Why ask me that? I mean, I don’t—I definitely don’t—but why would you ask me that?” you splutter, confused and indignant. 

“Because, obviously, it’d be harder to distance yourself from someone you’ve developed feelings for.” Chenle explains slowly, looking at you like you’ve lost your mind.

“Oh. Oh. Right. That makes sense. Well, don’t worry, guys. That shouldn’t—no. That won’t be a problem.” you assure them confidently, and they both hesitate for a second—a second too long, in your opinion—before nodding in agreement.

“Great. Well, now that that’s over,” Chenle says, slipping his hand up his shirt and rubbing his stomach absentmindedly, “I’m starving.”

“Me too.” you echo, and you both turn to look at Mark expectantly.

“What do you want me to do?” Mark questions, bewildered.

“This is your house? This is your food? Make us food, food man.” Chenle says, still speaking slowly as if some of Mark’s brain cells clocked out for their break.

“Bro, I can barely make eggs,” Mark defends himself, raising his hands in surrender. “I can order food from, like, IHOP or something?”

You and Chenle look at each other, exchanging wordless glances before nodding and turning back to Mark. 

“Sounds good.” you chirp, hopping up onto one of the stools at the kitchen island. 

“Should we wait until everyone wakes up so we can just do one massive order?” Mark suggests, and you groan, resting your crossed arms on the counter and letting your forehead drop onto them.

“Can’t we just wake them?” you ask, and Chenle points at you emphatically.

“Yeah, I’ll wake everyone up,” Chenle offers, already shuffling into the hallway towards the bedrooms. 

“I’ll start browsing the menu,” Mark says, unlocking his phone.

As the two males busy themselves with their respective tasks, you take the moment of solitude to think about how exactly you’re going to get Haechan to stop making advances on you. 

We haven’t been messing around that long, you think. It shouldn’t be that hard.

As all nine of you file into your regular diner and head for your usual booth, you notice that Haechan’s hovering around you a bit closer than normal.

Shooting him a curious side glance and receiving a subtle upwards flick of the eyebrows in response, you decide to shrug it off, chalking it up to Haechan being a little bizarre as usual.

That is, until you’re all moving to sit down—save for Winter, Seulgi, and Chaewon, who’ve gone to the bathroom to freshen up—and Haechan slips between Mark and Chenle, completely bypasses his usual spot next to Winter, and slides into the spot beside you that’s usually reserved for Seulgi. 

You pause in the middle of removing your coat, slowly turning to look at him with an incredulous expression.

He doesn’t even meet your gaze at first, instead starting to search through his jacket pockets—for what, you don’t know.

As if it couldn’t get any worse, you look over to see Mark sitting directly across from you with disapproval written plainly on his face.

“And just what do you think you’re doing, Haechan?” you ask in disbelief, and he finally looks you in the eyes, having the audacity to look put out by your question.

“Looking for something?” he replies slowly, waving his hand in his pocket as if he’s the normal one in this scenario.

“Is that something perhaps your common sense?” you whisper indignantly, and he rolls his eyes.

“I wanted to change my spot,” he explains casually. “I don’t see anything wrong with that.”

“I do.” Mark chimes in, voice surreptitiously low, and you gesture towards Mark, glad someone has your back.

“Mark does!” you hiss. “I do, too!”

“Would you relax?” Haechan laughs in disbelief. “Last time I checked, sitting next to you wasn’t a crime. It’s not like I’m slipping under the table and going down—”

“You absolutely will not finish that sentence.” you cut him off with a stern glare, and he chuckles under his breath before shrugging and looking between you and Mark.

“I’m sitting here today.” he says resolutely, and you shoot Mark a worried look, Mark frowning back at you sympathetically. 

Like clockwork, Winter, Seulgi, and Chaewon return from the bathroom, all three hesitating at the front of the table as they regard Haechan curiously.

Chaewon looks confused, Seulgi looks annoyed, and Winter just looks a little wounded, your heart twisting uncomfortably in sympathy and guilt as you avert your gaze.

“Haechan, I just want you to know that I am a creature of habit,” Seulgi says casually as she moves to sit beside Winter in his usual spot, “and you will rue the day you stole my seat.”

“Duly noted,” he replies, not looking even remotely bothered, and she narrows her eyes at him threateningly before settling into her new position.

Ordering goes by quickly and your food is out within a reasonable amount of time, all of you waiting for the last dish to arrive before you start to eat. 

There’s a comfortable silence that falls over the table as you all enjoy the food you’ve been craving, and it almost lulls you into a sense of security as Haechan murmurs your name to get your attention. 

You turn to him curiously and he’s holding up his sandwich with two hands, silently offering you a bite with an inviting brow raise. A quick glance in Winter’s direction reveals she’s too engrossed in the Belgian waffles she ordered to be worried about what you two are up to.

Seulgi, however, is giving you a clear warning glance that you look away from—hopefully quickly enough that she thinks you missed it. 

“I’m okay,” you brush him off gently, and he frowns cutely before gesturing again for you to take a bite.

“It’s really good,” he promises, and your face twists with indecisiveness. You hold back the initial instinct to glance over at Seulgi again, instead leaning forward and taking a careful bite of his sandwich. His eyes light up when you do, prompting your lips to curl into a smile of your own as you pull back with a mouthful of sandwich. 

The different flavors and textures dance on your tongue as you chew, and his eyes study your face intently, visibly brightening every time you react positively. You don’t dare look at Seulgi as you swallow, averting your gaze from Haechan just to be safe. 

“Thanks,” you whisper, and he smiles. “It is really good.”

He beams. “Told you,” he mumbles under his breath, taking another bite of his sandwich that you can’t help but notice overlaps your bite, and the way he shuts his eyes and lets out a low groan while chewing makes your skin tingle with intrigue. When he reopens his eyes to see you staring at him, your eyes widen and he lifts his brows in a blatantly flirtatious greeting before you look back down at your food, your cheeks blazing with warmth that gradually engulfs your whole face.

If the food sharing wasn’t suspicious enough, you really start to suspect that something’s up when Haechan leans over you suddenly, his hand landing on your knee to brace himself. You jump in surprise at the initial contact, but manage to ignore it for the most part while he retrieves the ketchup.

“You could have just asked me to pass it to you,” you say when he’s settled once more in his seat. When he looks at you, you shoot him a surreptitious warning glance down at your lap, where his hand still remains resting against your leg.

He meets your gaze with a naughty twinkle in his eye that only confirms your earlier suspicions, his hand staying exactly where he placed it.

You honestly don’t know what’s worse; the fact that Haechan feels comfortable enough to massage and knead your thigh under the table less than five feet away from his unsuspecting girlfriend, or the fact that the whole situation is beginning to turn you on somewhat.

You’re not sure if what’s turning you on most is his persistence, his blatant and shameless attraction to you, or—and you hope this isn’t the case—the fact that Winter is absolutely none the wiser.

As if he can hear your thoughts, his hand slides up your leg to stroke your upper thigh, fingers trailing dangerously close to your inner thighs and where they meet.

You decide you’re at your limit with his shenanigans for the evening, clearing your throat loudly before announcing, “I have to use the bathroom!” 

Chenle exits the booth first before impatiently gesturing for a reluctant Haechan to follow suit. When Haechan slides out of the booth, you follow him until you’re standing in front of the table, taking the opportunity to head to your destination.

Right when you’ve finished and are in the middle of washing your hands, someone knocks on the bathroom door, making you jolt.

“Just a sec!” you call out as you dry off and open the door. To your surprise, Haechan is on the other side of the door, and he doesn’t let you slip out before he steps in and shuts the bathroom door behind him. “Haechan, you’ve got to be joking.”

“I just wanted to say hi somewhere where you won’t avoid me like the plague,” he says with a frown that’s somehow both sincere and playful. 

“Well, hi.”

“Hi,” he replies with a secretive smile.

“Are we done? Can I go?” you ask, and he shakes his head with a growing smile.

“Maybe I could get a kiss before you go?”

“No!” you protest, and he frowns deeply, moving to block the door. “You’re insane.”

“Come on, you look so good and I can’t even have a tiny little kiss?” he complains, reaching out and taking your hand. When you stare at him warily but don’t move, his lips quirk up into a knowing smile and he pulls you in closer to him. “Come on, pretty girl.”

“Just one?” you ask quietly, and he nods, drawing you in even closer until his warmth and his scent consume you entirely. 

“Just one.” His lips ghost over yours as he speaks and you swallow thickly, leaning in to meet him. “That’s my girl,” he breathes before your lips connect and he winds his arms around you tighter as your lips move smoothly against each other’s. 

The second you let out an involuntary whine, you break the heated kiss with a small intake of air and you point at him with narrowed eyes.

“Be on your best fucking behavior out there, do you hear me?” you warn, and he gives you an obedient nod, a dopey smile on his lips. 

You both move away from the door with a start when someone knocks and your eyes widen as you realize the compromising situation you’ve been put in.

“I’m going out there.” you whisper loudly, and Haechan just waits slightly behind the door as you open it and face an extremely disapproving Chenle. “Oh, thank God,” you exhale with relief.

“Not ‘Thank God,’ actually,” Chenle sighs with a roll of his eyes. “You two are unbelievable.”

“I slipped into the bathroom after her,” Haechan admits plainly, and you look back at him in surprise. “She didn’t plan this, she was just going to the bathroom.”

Thankfully, Chenle’s face softens slightly, and you swallow thickly. 

“Her lipgloss is on your face.” Chenle points out, and you blanch, looking between Haechan and Chenle.

“Also my fault,” Haechan confesses sheepishly as he wipes around his mouth. “I was being difficult.”

Chenle eyes you both suspiciously before sighing deeply and moving out of your way to let you pass. You slip by him with an apologetic squeeze of his arm and head back to the table, Haechan coming out shortly after. 

As you all are starting to get ready to leave, Haechan raises his hand to flag down the waitress, and several people at the table make some sort of confused or bewildered noise.

“Haechan, what are you doing?” you ask, and he levels his gaze so he’s staring directly at you.

“I wanna order another entree to go.” Haechan explains.

You blink at him. “You just had a whole entree right in front of you—that you ate—and now you want another one?” 

Haechan frowns. “It’s for when I get hungry later.” he says stubbornly, and you pinch the bridge of your nose and breathe in deeply.

“Haechan, be satisfied with the entree you got!” you whisper-scold, and suddenly it hits you that he might be using this entree situation to hint at something larger than this—and so might you.

He stares at you, gaze burning with intensity, and says, “I love the flavor of this one though.” He says it slowly, and you can’t help but feel warmth rushing to your cheeks as he stares you down, adding, “tastes so good. I don’t think I can get enough of it.”

You try and fail to come up with a worthy reply, Haechan’s remark leaving you flustered and stunned. “Damn,” you mutter, both impressed and annoyed.

He smirks triumphantly and Mark rolls his eyes from across the table, leaning forward and staring Haechan down. “Don’t be greedy, Haechan. You probably won’t even finish the second entree.”

”First of all, I’ll definitely finish it,” Haechan counters defensively. “And second of all—that’s a risk I’m willing to take.” When Mark scoffs and rolls his eyes again, Haechan takes the opportunity to wink at you, sending you even further into your flustered frenzy.

He’s lost his goddamn mind, you think as Yunjin talks him into placing an order for delivery so you don’t all have to wait for his dish to be prepared. And if I don’t get my shit together and leave him alone, I’m definitely going to lose mine, too.

Later that night, you, Yunjin, Chaewon, and Seulgi have reconvened in your apartment, the four of you lounging around the living room until Yunjin speaks up.

“So are we going to address the elephant in the room, or…?” Yunjin asks after a moment of silence and Chaewon shifts uncomfortably.

“Sorry, guys; my frozen burrito from earlier is fighting back.” she sighs sadly, holding her stomach as her face twists slightly in discomfort.

“What on Earth are you talking about?” Yunjin shoots her a puzzled look and Chaewon balks.

“Was the elephant in the room not my stomach gurgling?” Chaewon questions softly, and you can’t help but snicker.

“Wait—why would you eat a frozen burrito?” Seulgi asks curiously, her response several exchanges too late, and Chaewon blinks at her blankly.

“Girl.” 

“What?” Seulgi asks, looking around and growing more bewildered when she sees that you’re all looking at her the same way. “What?”

“It wasn’t frozen when I ate it?” Chaewon explains slowly, rolling her eyes in mild annoyance. “It was actually good as hell.”

“Hope it tastes decent coming up,” you say worriedly, patting her knee comfortingly. “Although with the way your face is twisting, I’m thinking up is not where it’s going.”

“Yeah, no.” Chaewon mutters, standing up and rushing to the bathroom.

“Please spray!” you call after her and she shoots you a thumbs up without turning around. “Godspeed to her.” you sigh sympathetically, and Yunjin snickers.

“Now that we’ve solved one issue, let’s address the other elephant in the room.” She fixes you with a stern look and you freeze. “How long have you been fooling around with Haechan?”

Your blood runs cold. “Well, I don’t remember exactly when it started,” you start to say, trailing off uncomfortably. 

“Okay, so a better question: when and how are you going to stop?” Seulgi continues the interrogation, and you fiddle with the edge of the couch cushion you’re sitting on. 

“I don’t really know… like, Chenle and Mark already figured it out and they told me to cut ties and I’ve been trying but he sat right next to me today!”

“You’re lucky Winter was busy eating her food instead of watching you two practically play footsie under the table.” Yunjin scolds, and you frown deeply.

“Okay, can we skip the ‘I’m a terrible person, cheating is bad’ spiel for right now so we can figure out how I can end things with Haechan with Winter being none the wiser?” you plead, messing with your hair nervously.

“Just call him and break it off. That way you don’t have to see him and say it.” Chaewon pipes up from the hallway as she gets closer to where you’re all sitting. 

“Feel better?” Seulgi asks, and Chaewon nods, smiling.

“Much.”

“Okay, well… I can call Haechan tomorrow, I guess,” you mumble with uncertainty, and they all nod encouragingly. 

“You can do it! And I’ll be here after work to help you if you wanna wait until I get off.” Yunjin offers, but you shake your head.

“No, I did this, so I’ll fix it.” you sigh defeatedly. “You know, I’m just wondering; why did none of you tell Winter?”

“We were hoping it’d fix itself on its own,” Seulgi explains. “The longing stares, the lingering touches, the blatant flirting had to stop for us to maintain a healthy equilibrium in this friend group.”

“Fair,” you reluctantly agree. “But I’d argue that nothing about this is healthy; so far the only two people who don’t know anything are Jeno and Winter… and Haechan doesn’t know you all know… lots of secrets in this friend group.”

“I mean, yeah, but what Winter doesn’t know won’t hurt her, right?” Chaewon supplies hopefully.

“Somehow, I don’t think that applies to when the thing being concealed is, like, objectively bad.” Yunjin replies.

“Literally when else would it apply?” Chaewon counters snarkily as she turns to shoot Yunjin a blank stare, and Yunjin pulls her fist back like she’s lining up for a punch, which in turn prompts Chaewon to scoff in disbelief and lurch forward in a wordless challenge. 

As the two of them lunge at each other and start to poke and pinch each other in a playfight, you look over at Seulgi, who’s watching them with a look of amusement on her face. 

“You guys are crazy. I’m going to bed, by the way.” Seulgi announces, stretching her limbs before walking to Yunjin’s room. 

“Good night!” you all call after her, but you sigh before following in Seulgi’s footsteps and standing up, stretching your body in preparation to head to your own room to go to bed.

“I’m gonna go to bed, too,” you decide. “Big day tomorrow, y’know?”

“Good night!” Chaewon yells.

“Good luck!” Yunjin says encouragingly.

“Good night, and thank you!” you call back before shutting your bedroom door.

When you’re alone in the safety of your room, you can’t help but wonder if this could have all been avoided before you get in your bed and drift off to a fitful, restless sleep.

You wake up the following morning to what sounds like an empty apartment, and a quick walk around the unit confirms your suspicions. You walk into the kitchen to find something to eat, only to spot three colorful sticky notes on your refrigerator.

Picking up the first one, a light blue square, you read it to yourself.

Good morning! Good luck with You-Know-Who today; stay strong! Love, Chaewon :)

The next one, a sticky note in the shape of a yellow speech bubble, reads:

You got this!! Just remember, it’s for the best. Love, Seulgi ᵔᴥᵔ

With a smile, you pick up the last one, a light pink square, and read it over.

You can do it, babe! No matter what happens, I’m proud of you for even trying. Love, love, love, Yunjin

Feeling emboldened by the words of your friends, you head back to your room to grab your phone to call Haechan. Sitting cross-legged with your back to the headboard, you take a deep breath to center your nerves before unlocking your phone and opening the dialpad.

When you dial Haechan’s number, the phone barely makes it past the first ring before he picks up.

“Hello?” He sounds confused but hope rings clear in his voice. “Did you mean to call me?”

“Yeah—yeah, I did. Hi, Haechan.” you confirm, and there’s a pause on the other end. “Hello?”

“Hey! Hi, hey, I’m here, I’m sorry—I’m just a little shocked to hear from you is all.” he stammers, and you start to feel a horrible twisting sensation in your chest as you remember why exactly you called.

“Oh, I just wanted to tell you something,” you say quickly, deciding that once it’s out there, you can’t take it back.

“I wanna see you,” he says plainly, and you falter. “Can you tell me in person?”

This was not part of the plan. 

“Um…” you trail off quietly. “No, I can’t tell you in person?” you say before smacking a hand to your forehead.

He chuckles. “You’re cute. I’m coming to get you in a bit, by the way. You can tell me in 45 minutes.” Haechan states, and you blanch.

This absolutely was not in the plan.

“Um, I can’t hang out.”

“Why not?”

“I’m… doing things… already.”

“Oh, yeah? Doing things?” His amusement is audible on the other end, and you feel a growing sense of defeat.

“Yeah, you know… partaking in… activities… and the like…” you say slowly, and he snickers loudly.

“Well, make some time in your busy, busy schedule for me because I’m about to leave my house in fifteen minutes and drive to yours. It’s only gonna take me about thirty minutes to get to you.”

Rendered utterly speechless by how far off-track this whole thing just got derailed, you just sit in silence for a moment before uttering a defeated, “Okay?”

“That’s more like it,” he says with an audible grin. “See you soon, pretty.”

He hangs up before you can say anything else and you sit frozen for a minute before you fly into a panic, hurriedly running in the bathroom to wash up and get dressed, cursing vehemently all the while.

When 45 minutes pass, you’re touching up the final parts of your appearance and, true to his word, Haechan texts you.

haechan [14:24] i’m downstairs buzz me up

You do so, waiting with bated breath as he makes his way to your apartment, finally knocking on the door after what feels like ages and making you jolt. 

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves before opening the door to face him.

“Hi, there,” he greets you with a playful lilt, appreciatively taking in your appearance. To your dismay, he looks nothing short of delicious, sporting a plain black t-shirt and gray sweats with annoyingly perfectly mussed-up hair.

You offer a small smile in response, trying desperately to hide how affected you are just from seeing him. “Hi, Haechan.”

“Did you wanna go somewhere?” he points over his shoulder with his thumb, and you shake your head firmly.

“No, here’s fine.” you say, realizing a moment later that you absolutely should not let Haechan in your apartment if you’re not trying to sleep with him. “Actually, no, you’re right, let’s go somewhere.”

“You sure?” he asks, concerned and slightly amused—why, you can’t seem to tell—as he studies you, stepping closer. When you step back slightly, you realize the mistake you’ve made, as his eyes darken and intensify in their gaze. “Are you running from me right now?”

“No,” you respond quickly, but you fail to convince him, his grin widening.

“You are.” he confirms, his tone a mix of surprise and satisfaction, and you swallow thickly. “You know what?”

“What?” you ask warily, and he leans closer without warning, visibly relishing the way you move away nervously. 

“We should talk somewhere more… private, yeah?” he suggests. At your hesitation, he adds, “I mean, unless you want our friends or someone else we know to see us talking right now.”

“Okay, I guess you’re right,” you agree. 

“We can talk in my car? It’s parked in the indoor garage down the block.” he offers, and you shrug and nod, looking away a moment too soon to catch the way his eyes flash with triumph like he’s lured you perfectly into his trap.

You follow him down to his car in the indoor parking lot, where you move to open your door on the passenger side, only for him to swat your hand away dismissively.

He opens your door for you himself, gesturing for you to get in the car, and when you’re settled in he leans down and so unnervingly close to you that you almost choke on your spit. 

“Still gonna try to run from me, hm?” he presses in a dangerously soft voice, and you look down at your lap to avoid eye contact. He places a hand on the seat by your leg, his hand so close to you that you’re practically touching, and lowers his head to meet your gaze again. “I wonder how far you’d get before I catch you.”

“What makes you so sure you’d catch me?” Your retort slips out without a moment of thought and you stiffen as he grins slowly, absolutely taking your words as a challenge.

“We both know I don’t give up easily.” he replies simply but seriously, and you hesitate, staring at him in shock as he flicks his eyebrows upwards suggestively and stands up, closing the door on your side before crossing around the car and getting in the driver’s seat.

“You wanted to tell me something, yeah?” he reminds you, and you blink twice, snapping out of staring at him like a wary prey animal before nodding.

“Yeah, I did. Um, well…” you mumble, losing all your nerve the longer he stares at you. 

“Well?” he presses gently, and you decide to just blurt it out.

“Haechan, we can’t keep sneaking around like this.”

The silence is thick, and you finally meet his gaze only to wish you hadn’t.

Haechan doesn’t reply, just stares at you unwaveringly, and you feel your resolve slip as his eyes slowly drop to scan your frame. You shift uncomfortably under his gaze, crossing your legs at the knee and regretting it instantly as his stare darkens watching the hem of your skirt ride up to expose more of your thighs.

“Haechan, did you hear what I said?” you huff, and his eyes drag back up your body to lock on yours. 

“Yeah, I heard you.” He has the gall to raise his brows in amusement, and you raise your own incredulously. 

“What’s funny?”

He doesn’t reply yet again, chuckling as he shakes his head and pokes his tongue in his cheek, and your brow furrows in frustration—both at his unbothered reaction and at how irritatingly arousing it is. 

“I wanna laugh, too, Haechan,” you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice not unlike the arousal that now clings to the seat of your underwear. 

“What’s funny,” he stresses, sitting back and rubbing a hand along his thigh, smirking when you snap out of staring at his fingers just a second too late, “is that you really think I’m gonna buy this whole spiel when—” he shifts to lean forward again without warning, moving into your space in the passenger seat— “I can name at least three reasons why I can tell you’re lying through your teeth right now.”

seatbelt’s off, but you won’t leave, yeah how many times do you want what we don’t need?

You can’t help but roll your eyes. “Oh, really?”

“Yep,” he replies casually.

“Name them.” You huff stubbornly, and Haechan’s probing eyes light up in triumph, making you mentally slap yourself for taking the bait.

“First of all? You didn’t want to do this over text.” 

“I didn’t want a paper trail,” you defend yourself but you know it’s weak and worst of all, you know he can see through your flimsy excuse. 

“We could have talked over the phone,” he points out. 

“You insisted on seeing me!”

“You didn’t put up very much of a fight.” he regards you with an unimpressed raised eyebrow. “You let me get to see you in person. Up close and personal.” Haechan continues as if you haven’t spoken, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as his eyes drop from your face to glance at your lap as if waiting for a physical confirmation. When you cross your hands over your lap, he grins, seemingly receiving the cue he was looking for, and flicks his gaze back up to yours. “Second of all? I’m willing to bet you didn’t tell anyone you came here. Because you know good and well what you came to do.”

“I didn’t tell Chenle or Mark I was going to be doing this right now, no,” you start carefully, not sure how to approach the revealing of the fact that more people know of your arrangement. 

“But?”

“But I’m doing this because Yunjin and Chaewon and Seulgi know and they told me I should stop before it gets out of hand.” you blurt out, and he raises both eyebrows as if to challenge you. “What?”

“So your friends think we should stop,” Haechan says slowly, and you nod firmly. “What about you?”

“Wh– huh?” you stammer. 

“What about you? What do you think we should do?” he asks, his voice softening dangerously. 

i recognize the hungry eye both hands on your side, but you’re looking back

“The right thing,” you mumble, and he shakes his head playfully, a wolfish grin growing as he leans in closer to you.

“And what is that?” his voice is barely above a murmur as he brings his lips closer and closer to yours.

You suck in an embarrassingly ragged breath. “Stop.”

He lifts an eyebrow once more, grin widening suspiciously. “Are you telling me to stop, or are you telling me the right thing to do is stop?”

right now, say it if you want it, laugh out loud just let me know

“Second one,” you say feebly, and he chuckles, a dead giveaway you’ve made a mistake.

“So you don’t want me to stop.” he confirms, ignoring your bewildered splutter as his hand creeps up to caress just above your knee. “Got it. Just making sure.”

“You’re insufferable,” you groan.

“You like it.” he dismisses you, and you scoff.

“Do not.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asks, eyes flicking down to your lap before he smirks and looks up at you once more. “So answer this. Why’d you get all dolled up to see me?”

“I—well—hey, I said I had plans today!”

“But you could have come to see me dressed in something at least a little less cute.” he points out, and you growl exasperatedly.

“Well, I figured I’d go straight to them after,” you lie, gesturing vaguely between the two of you and he nods slowly before you continue with a small gulp— “well, y’know. Plus,” you pipe up as you think of another defense, “I didn’t plan to be here for long enough for it to matter.”

He arches an eyebrow at that, and you can’t help but feel stuck in yet another trap. “You wanted it quick, yeah?”

You have a sneaking suspicion he’s not referring to the conversation you’re having. “Perhaps.” you say warily, settling for the most ambiguous answer you can think of.

“But you know how I love taking my time with you,” he says, frowning as he draws little hearts on your knee with his finger. 

You let out a deep sigh. “Haechan, don’t be crude.”

“But you love it when I’m crude.” he points out with a pout that’s struggling to conceal his growing smirk. “Whenever I talk you through it and tell you I love how well your pussy sucks me in—”

“Haechan!” you squeak in alarm, but he bulldozes over your warning.

“You get all slick around me, remember?”

“Oh, my God, Haechan, please shut up.” you mutter, scandalized as you avert your eyes from his intense stare.

“Always get my cock nice and covered in your cum.” he grunts and you make the grave mistake of looking down only to stifle a gasp at the sight of his gray sweatpants straining to accommodate the growing bulge of his length. As if it couldn’t get worse, his fingers grip his knee tightly, veins prominent on the back of his hand sending your mind to the most sinful places as you envision him taking you in his backseat with his fingers all over your body, mouth soon to follow— “I know you’re thinking about it.”

“Am not,” you lie through your teeth, and he scoffs loudly, sitting back and crossing his arms. You gulp internally as the muscles of his forearms flex slightly and your mind is sent plunging to the gutter once more.

“What are you thinking about, then?”

“Thinking about how I shouldn’t have agreed to come here.”

He nods slowly, pensively. “Maybe you shouldn’t have. Because now,” he softens his voice as he unfolds his arms and rests his elbow on the door, regarding you with his cheek in his palm, “I don’t think I want you to leave.”

You don’t think you want to either, at this point, but you continue to pursue the moral high ground you sought after when you asked to meet up.

You sigh quietly. “Haechan.”

“Baby.” He blinks at you expectantly, and you swallow the thick lump that grows in your throat at the pet name. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“You love when I call you that. Especially when I do it while I’m inside of you.” he counters with a taunting smile, and you roll your eyes.

“Well, you’re not inside of me! And as a matter of fact, we are talking about you never being inside of me again.” you stress, and he rolls his eyes right back at you. At his silence which holds all the defiance he need not say, you sit up in your seat, straightening your back to strengthen your resolve. “We are not having sex again.” you say firmly, finding it devastatingly attractive when he arches his eyebrow skeptically. 

“Oh, yeah?” He’s challenging you, and you could almost curse your pride for walking once more into his trap. You watch in an almost frozen trance as he walks two fingers from his own leg across the middle compartment between you to creep up your leg. He studies you carefully the entire time, almost daring you—to do what, you don’t quite know—before flicking at the hem of your skirt so a portion of it flips up. You suck in a soft gasp and he chuckles quietly. “Then why did you wear this skirt to come and see me?”

“I like this skirt!” you protest immediately. 

“I do too,” he echoes, bringing his lips dangerously close to your ear. You can’t help but notice that his fingers are tracing small circles on the newly revealed flesh of your thigh, and you blink hard in an attempt to regain your composure. “And I know that you know that.”

You’re absolutely lost for words, and it must show plainly on your face because he pouts at you sympathetically. 

“Poor baby. You really thought you were going to dangle your pretty self in front of me—these legs, those eyes—”

“Haechan—”

“—lips all pretty and glossed up, begging to be kissed—”

“Haechan,” you warn weakly, but you both know it’s too late. Desire is building in you rapidly, your body heating up and breath quickening, and judging by the way that Haechan is watching you like a hawk, you’re way too far gone to come back now. 

“—and you really thought I’d just let you go like that?” He scoffs, so amused it’s almost derisive. His hand leaves your thigh and strokes your cheek affectionately, thumb massaging your skin when you subconsciously lean into his touch. “Without at least a kiss?” Haechan breathes the words so quietly that you have to lean towards him to hear him properly, and he takes the opportunity to shift his hold on you, fingers now grazing the side of your neck. 

“Wh—a kiss—” you splutter, mind reeling from how badly you wish he’d just take you already—

“A kiss.” he confirms, and you freeze, wading through the fog of desire in your mind to contemplate your options. “I just wanna feel your pretty mouth again.”

“Haechan,” you scold pathetically.

“What flavor of lip gloss is that?” He ignores your warning, tilting his head curiously. 

You don’t know why you answer him. “Raspberry peach.” Your voice is quiet and nervous, and it becomes apparently obvious to both of you that you’ve just sealed your fate. 

“Can I taste?” He gives you a dazzling smile, and it hits you—not only did you never stand a chance, but also now you’re not sure if you ever really wanted to.

While your eyes widen in shock, his twinkle with excitement, and your minuscule nod is all he needs to lean forward and connect your lips. The kiss is brief due to you pulling back first, and Haechan groans in delight when he licks your lip gloss off his lips, but he doesn’t release the side of your neck. In fact, his fingers slip further behind you, cupping the nape of your neck, and he gives you a playfully disapproving look. 

“You know you’re going to have to give me more than that, right?”

You balk at the suggestive tone in his voice. “How much more?”

“Mm, at least another taste of that lip gloss.”

“At least?” you protest in a quiet squeak, but he’s already pulling you back into a kiss, this one greedy and desperate as Haechan clutches the back of your neck and your thigh, the hand on your leg sliding higher up to hike up your skirt further. You moan weakly—you’d like to say it was in protest, but the two of you know better than that—and the sound seems to embolden him, his lips wrapping around your tongue for a brief moment to suck before he pulls back slightly, taking in a ragged breath before surging forward to capture your lips once more.

“Haechan—” you manage to get out between his insistent kisses, and he hesitates—but only slightly.

“Mm?” he hums before busying himself with kissing your face, cheeks, jaw, neck and lingering along your pulse point. 

“That was more than enough, don’t you think?” you ask feebly, and he chuckles, the sound low in his throat.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” he confesses plainly, and you freeze, momentarily swooned by the sheer desire in his voice. He pulls back and studies your face, no doubt taking in the sight of your glazed over eyes and parted, panting lips, glossy with residual lip gloss and a mix of your saliva, and you’re all too familiar with the steadily growing glint in his eyes.

It’s triumph, mixed with the intensity of his desire, and it’s enough to send you reeling, your resolve melting like putty between his fingers.

“Baby?” he calls softly.

“Mm?” you reply, softer, without thinking, and his gaze darkens considerably, victory and lust radiating off of him in waves that you come dangerously close to losing yourself in.

“Come here.” He pats his thigh and watches you expectantly. When you hesitate, he raises an eyebrow. “Don’t make me come over there.”

You’re moving before you can even register it, lifting out of your seat to crawl sans dignity—though you suppose you forfeited that the second you kissed him—into his seat. Haechan reaches for you immediately, hands bracing you by your hips and guiding you closer until you’re seated comfortably on his lap, your knees on either side of his frame and aching core planted firmly just below his clothed erection. 

He takes a moment to study you before his hands slowly move to untie the string of his sweats. He chuckles when your gaze drops instantly to his hands with a desperation he knows only he can draw from you. “Does my pretty baby want to see how hard she makes me?” His soft, adoring gaze hardens slightly when you only offer a nod. “Use your words.”

“Yes,” you whisper, not trusting your voice to make it any louder. He smiles, pleased, and one hand continues the painfully slow task of maneuvering his length out of his pants while the other trails up your leg from your knee to between your legs, shamelessly pushing your skirt up your legs and out of the way before snapping the band of your underwear against your stomach teasingly. He grins up at you when you yelp and leans up to slot his lips with yours again, kisses slowly building in intensity as they muffle your crescendoing moans and whimpers from his fingers stroking at the damp spot over your core. Every now and then his middle finger grazes the underside of your clit and a sharp hiss escapes you as your hips rock into his touch.

“You’re practically dripping down my fingers, baby,” he coos patronizingly, swirling his fingers around your clit and gathering more of your arousal as if to prove his point. “How could I not give you what you wanted this whole time?”

Your mouth moves to defend yourself but only a pathetic cry slips out when he pushes two fingers into the slick warmth of your core, walls tightening around him reflexively and making him let out a throaty groan. 

“You drive me insane,” he mutters the admission, the words holding more gravity from his sudden bashfulness. 

“Haechan,” you whine softly, and he moans before kissing you again and guiding his tongue between your parted lips to stroke at yours gently.

“How could I ever give you up, baby?” he asks between kisses, and you whimper. “You must not know what you do to me.” At his words and the way they drip with utter devotion, your abdomen tightens and you feel the beginnings of an approaching climax. 

You try to speak once more but, again, only broken gasps spill forth as he speeds up his pace, fingers fucking into you with reckless abandon. The wet, slick sounds of his fingers moving in your core blend in with your growing moans and his encouraging hums to create a soundscape of pleasure you easily lose yourself in, your climax rushing towards you as you know you’re helpless to stop it.

“Haechan—gonna cum,” you stammer, and he coos affectionately.

“I know.” he replies with a grin and curls his fingers inside of you, stroking at your g-spot and working you up further and further until you’re panting and whimpering his name through your climax. He kisses you as you come down, slow but intentional movements of his lips swallowing your trembling whimpers as his fingers keep stroking inside of you. “My pretty fucking girl,” he whispers reverently, adoring brown eyes twinkling up at you. “You’re never getting rid of me, you know that, right?”

“Haechan,” you keen softly, rocking down on his fingers, and he hisses in pleasure before slowly extracting his fingers from you and looking down at his lap.

“Baby, you make me so hard,” he whispers the words like a confession. “Your moans, and the pretty faces you make, and the way you feel—fuck.”

Your hands trail down to his lap, resuming his earlier task of untying his sweats and maneuvering his length out of his boxers, and he sighs in relief when his erection is freed from the confines of his clothes, his head tipping back onto the car seat as his eyes flutter shut.

You waste no time, wrapping your fingers around the base of his length and starting to stroke him up and down. 

He shudders with delight and reaches for the hem of your blouse, cool fingertips gliding up your bare stomach with ticklishly light strokes as he slips behind your back to unclip your bra. As soon as the last hook is undone, he’s pushing your blouse up and pulling your bra down to expose your breasts, a delighted groan escaping him before he leans in and draws slow circles around your nipple with his tongue.

“So good to me, baby,” he says in an adoring whisper. “Keep stroking me just like that.”

“Feels good?” you hum breathlessly, and he nods, eyes flicking up to yours to display his sincerity.

“Feels amazing,” he sighs dreamily, making you smile in satisfaction as you focus on squeezing as you near the head of his length. When you pull your hand away, Haechan looks up at you with disappointment and a question in his eyes, both of which disappear in favor of a heavy-lidded stare of desire as he watches you collect your own arousal and return your hand to his length, your fist gliding up and down his shaft with the new lubrication.

“God, that’s so hot.” he grunts, sliding his hand up his shirt to tease his nipple. You watch his abdomen flex and tense as you swipe your thumb over the slit in the head of his cock, smiling in amusement and fascination as you press the pad of your thumb into the small slit experimentally and he jolts, letting out a low swear. 

With your free hand, you join his hand under his shirt, tracing circles around his nipple and relishing the hiss he lets out. Making sure to maintain the pace of your fist pumping up and down his length, you massage the little bud on his chest before moving over to give the other one the same treatment. 

He moans openly at the stimulation before leaning forward and cupping both your breasts in his hands, showering them with kisses given by full, pink, spit-slicked lips that suck and kiss and part to let his tongue lick at your skin. He pushes your breasts together, kneading and squeezing the flesh before sucking one of your nipples into his mouth, echoing your responding moan as he sucks harder, teasing the bud with his tongue. He looks up at you and lets his tongue hang out wide and flat as he drags it across your chest from one nipple to the other, lips making loud, wet sucking and kissing noises as he busies his mouth with your breasts.

Absentmindedly, one of his hands leaves your chest and moves down to wrap his fingers around his length, lazily tugging at himself as he sucks on your nipples, humming contently, and gazes up at you with his eyes half-closed and blazing with desire. 

You reach further down into his boxers to massage his balls, squeezing gently, and he lets out a feeble whimper that has triumph purring in your chest. His length is hot and heavy, the vein running along the underside of it throbbing invitingly, and you’re not quite sure how much more of this you can take.

Growing impatient, you re-grip the base of his cock, fingers overlapping with his, and lift yourself up slightly to guide his tip to your entrance, making Haechan chuckle fondly.

“Pretty girl got tired of waiting, hm?” he teases, and you frown petulantly, looking up at him from where you were focused on staring at where your bodies meet. “Here I was, thinking you were really done with me.” He pouts back at you, a teasing glint in his eyes, and you roll your eyes.

“Haechan?”

“Baby?”

“Shut up,” you mutter, gasping in relief when you sink down onto his length. He lets out a loud hiss of pleasure and his hands move to grip at the fleshy part where your thighs and hips meet, kneading and massaging slowly.

“That’s it, fuck, that’s my good girl.” he groans in ecstasy, sitting up slightly to leave kisses along your neck as you clench around him, gradually adjusting to his size. “See how good that feels?” he murmurs breathlessly, and you nod, tilting your head down to catch his lips in a lazy kiss.

“So good, Haechan,” you exhale as you slowly roll your hips against him, and he grins into the kiss as one hand slides up from your thigh to cup your breast in his palm, gently tweaking your nipple.

“You gonna ride me, pretty?” he asks with a small smirk, raising his eyebrows expectantly, and you wordlessly reply by lifting yourself up and easing yourself down, steadily building a decent pace. “Just like that, baby, that’s my girl.” he coos proudly, and you whimper in response as you bounce up and down on his lap.

Haechan ducks his head down, trailing wet kisses from your lips to your breast, where he takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks, swirling his tongue around the bud and flicking it back and forth as he studies your reactions with an almost greedy curiosity. 

As he laps at your nipple, his hand sneaks between your legs to toy with your clit, a snicker escaping him when you yelp in surprise and flinch away from the overly sensitive stimulation. “Let it happen, baby.” he urges softly, words muffled from his face being buried in your chest.

As you ride him, Haechan takes a moment to lean his head back against the headrest and admire you. “You look so pretty… my pretty girl.” he sighs dreamily, eyes glazed over with a heady blend of lust and adoration. When you avert your gaze nervously, he makes a sound of disapproval and turns your chin so you’re looking at him again. “Look at me.”

“Haechan,” you whine, biting down on your bottom lip to control yourself. You’re already starting to feel the building ache and burning in your thighs as you maneuver yourself on top of him, and Haechan laughs fondly as he brushes stray pieces of hair out of your face.

“You want me to take over?” he asks, and you nod eagerly, bracing yourself as you hover just above his base. “You like how I fuck you, huh?”

“Please move,” you complain, and he shakes his head tauntingly, poking his tongue to the inside of his cheek as he grins. 

“Tell me you like it.”

“Haechan,” you groan, and he shrugs as nonchalantly as someone buried balls deep inside of another person can. “Please don’t tease me.”

“You tried to leave me,” he points out as he rocks his hips upwards into yours, and you gasp from the sudden sensation. “I don’t think you get what you want so easily.”

“I’m sorry,” you moan, fighting back the urge to roll your eyes. “I was trying to do the right thing!”

“Yeah? Well, how right does this feel, hm?” He braces your hips in place as he starts to fuck up into you with deep, powerful strokes. “You were going to leave this behind, baby; you know just as well as I do that you’d have been making a mistake.”

“Yes, Haechan—you’re so good, you’re amazing—just fuck me—” you blabber pathetically, your orgasm so close you can almost taste it. He maintains his pace while capturing your nipple between his teeth and pulling it between his lips to suck with wet, lewd noises.

“You like that, don’t you?” he purrs, and you nod dumbly, causing him to frown in disapproval. “I want to hear you.”

“I love it so much,” you confess, dropping your forehead to rest on the headrest behind Haechan as the tightening feeling in your abdomen grows. “I’m sorry I tried to leave!”

“You gonna do it again?”

“No!”

“Promise?” Despite the menace that he’s being, you can definitely detect some hope in his voice, and you can’t help but feel warmth blooming in your chest.

“Promise, Haechan, I promise!” You’re on the verge of tears at this point, hoping, praying for just a bit more friction so you can cum.

“That’s what I thought,” he says smugly, pressing down on your clit as he angles his hips just right to fuck into your g-spot.

You cry out Haechan’s name weakly as your climax floods through your body, your muscles tensing so tightly that it’s almost painful before they go slack, a wave of satisfaction and relief washing over you as the fuzzy afterglow settles in.

“God—Haechan, I can’t—too much—” you stammer, and he nods, humming in understanding.

“Just hold on for me, baby; I’m so close,” he grunts, pistoning his hips up and into you roughly, deep strokes riling you up even further as he chases after his own high with determination. Seconds later, his hips still as he buries himself in you as deep as he can get, warmth filling your core as he spills his seed into you. 

His head lolls back against the headrest as relief floods his expression, letting out a spent laugh as his hands move to your hips, fingers gently massaging your hips in soothing strokes as he leans forward, eyes sliding shut as he blindly leaves kisses along your skin, starting from your collarbone to trail up your neck to finally catch your lips in a slow, languid, but deep kiss. 

You sigh, content, against his lips, and he places soft kisses to your bottom lip, then your top lip, then to both of them, soft pecks filled with unspoken words of adoration.

“So,” he says after a moment, breaking the silence, and you look at him. “What did we learn?”

“Not you talking to me like I’m a child.” you huff petulantly, and he chuckles fondly before pressing a kiss to your cheek and letting his lips linger there.

“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmurs, words slightly muffled by the flesh of your cheek but spoken clearly enough to be heard. “Isn’t that right?”

You sigh in defeat, realizing that if you’re gonna be serious about becoming a better person and cutting this fling situation off, you’re gonna have to come up with a much better plan than the one you just failed to enact.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” you mumble dismissively, and he makes a noise of disapproval before pulling back to look you square in the eyes.

“We’re gonna try that again.” he says, a slight edge to his voice that has your eyebrows raising in surprise. “You’re not going anywhere, baby. Isn’t that right?” 

“Yes, that’s right.” you answer, and he nods proudly.

“That’s more like it.” he states, pleased. “Now, do you wanna get something to eat?”

“Oh, my God, yes, please,” you agree instantly, and he laughs, reaching into the backseat to retrieve your purse that, truthfully, you hadn’t noticed had fallen back there. You fish out your phone and check your notifications to see if any of your friends magically found out what you’ve just done, finding with a relieved sigh that you’re safe.

“Let’s get ourselves dressed and sorted out, then we’ll get some food.” he promises you, and you shift off of his lap and back into the passenger seat, tugging your skirt and underwear back into place, re-hooking your bra, and pulling your shirt back down to cover everything it’s supposed to cover. 

“So much for having plans and activities to partake in today,” he calls your bluff from earlier with a snort, and you huff, frowning. 

“Listen, they canceled,” you lie.

“Oh, really? Was that before or after I made you cum all over my fingers in my car?”

“Um… after?”

“So just now?” he asks skeptically, and you nod. “Show me.”

“You wanna go through my phone?” you gasp incredulously. “What are you, my boyfriend?”

As he chuckles and shakes his head, you could almost swear you hear him mutter, “Not yet,” and elect to ignore him with a small roll of your eyes.

You feel slightly dirty, your inner thighs smeared with arousal and your chest covered in sweat and Haechan’s saliva, and you attempt to remedy how messy you feel by pulling the mirror down and starting to mess with your hair, all the while fully aware of Haechan’s fascinated eyes on you. Finally somewhat satisfied with your hairstyle, you pull out your lip gloss, unscrewing it and bringing the applicator to your lips, only to freeze at the realization that Haechan’s already rapt gaze has intensified, your illicit lover’s eyes trained on your lips with an unmistakable longing.

“Haechan, we just had sex in your car,” you remind him, and he shoots you a devilishly handsome smile. 

“Just one more kiss,” he says, wetting his lips subconsciously in anticipation.

You roll your eyes slightly but fail to hide your smile as you swipe the lip gloss over your lips, rubbing them together for an even application before turning to look at Haechan, who’s watching you expectantly.

You lean closer, cupping his chin and pulling his face to yours to press your lips to his in a brief but sweet kiss. He hums happily into the kiss and chases after your lips when you pull back, his eyes still closed and lips still parted.

“Are you happy now?” you ask, and his eyes flutter open before he licks his lips, smacking slightly as he tastes your lip gloss. 

“For now,” he replies with a mischievous smile, and you snicker. “Are you happy?”

“Yes, I am,” you assure him, and he smiles, relief evident on his face. “Now drive.”

“So?” Yunjin yells from the kitchen as soon as she hears you enter the apartment. “How’d it go?”

“Um…” you call back hesitantly as you lock the door behind you, and you can hear her turn off the water and her rapidly approaching footsteps as she comes to meet you. “It went. I suppose.”

She stops short as soon as she catches sight of you, hawk-like eyes surveying your appearance for an uncomfortably long period of time before she sighs in disappointment and realization.

“You two had sex, didn’t you?”

You fidget with the bag of Five Guys that Haechan took you to get. “I got you a cheeseburger,” you tell her as you shake the paper bag invitingly, hoping it might distract her somewhat.

“Five Guys and their delicious ass cheeseburgers can’t save you now.” Yunjin huffs, crossing her arms and tapping her foot impatiently. “Spill. What happened? How did you two end up having sex again… at the very meeting you scheduled to tell him you two wouldn’t be having sex anymore?” 

“Well,” you start, not really sure where to begin. “He’s very persuasive, you know.”

“Yeah, I can see that,” she remarks dryly. “Okay. I’ll spare you the shame of going over every minute detail of your little failed meeting—for now.”

“Thank you,” you exhale in relief, walking past her and collapsing on the couch. 

“But at least tell me how you two ended it?” she asks worriedly as she follows after you, standing in front of the couch, and you start to nibble your bottom lip nervously.

“He said I’m not going anywhere.” you say quietly, and she blinks, momentarily stunned into silence.

“And what did you say to that?” she asks, and you can tell by the defeated tone in her voice that she already has an idea of your answer.

“I agreed.” you mumble shamefully, and she lets out a deep sigh. 

“Of course you did,” she mutters under her breath, running a hand through her hair. “I’m guessing he didn’t give you much of a choice.”

“No, he did not.” you confirm softly, maneuvering yourself up into a sitting position and plopping your hands in your lap pathetically. “Again—very persuasive.”

“Is he that persuasive?” Yunjin asks, tilting her head to the side as she analyzes your body language. “Or do you just have feelings for him?”

You make an indignant, surprised noise that sounds like a strange mix of a squawk and a gasp, but Yunjin silences your impending protest with one look, leaving you to think about her question. “Well,” you say after some time, “if it turns out that I do have feelings for him… hypothetically… then how would I handle this… in this, of course, entirely hypothetical situation?”

Yunjin scans your face again, her no-nonsense demeanor shifting as her eyes widen almost imperceptibly in realization before her features gradually soften into a sympathetic expression, and your heart drops, not needing to be told what she’s thinking.

“God, what am I gonna do?”

She moves to sit down beside you on the couch, draping her arm around your shoulders comfortingly. “I’m gonna be real with you—I don’t think I know, my love.”

“Well, hopefully I figure something out soon, because he’s gonna be at Mark’s and Jeno’s party next weekend.”

“We’ll do our best to come up with something,” she assures you, and you can only sigh forlornly. “In the meantime… how about you let me heat up the rest of this food and we’ll watch something to take your mind off of it, okay?”

“Okay,” you agree dejectedly, and she gently takes the bag of food from your hand, patting your thigh comfortingly before rising from the couch and heading back into the kitchen.

To make matters even worse, your phone buzzes with a text notification and you check it to see a new message from none other than Haechan.

haechan [16:44] hope you’re enjoying your food

haechan [16:44] miss you already, baby

haechan [16:44] can’t wait to see you again soon

You finish reading the text messages and realize with a start after catching your reflection on the screen that you’re smiling giddily at your phone.

You snap out of it quickly, defiantly throwing your phone to the other side of the couch and crossing your arms in a huff.

You definitely need a game plan by next Friday, because you’re not sure just how much more of this you can take.

TA DA!!!!! i hope you enjoyed your read! the fourth part will be up in exactly one week! reminder that (only if you’re able) tips are very much appreciated, as is positive feedback! if you’d like to be added to the taglist, just shoot me an ask and please make sure your privacy settings are updated accordingly!

DON’T WANNA WAIT TO READ THE WHOLE STORY? it’s available on my patreon here!

LINKS: KO-FI // VENMO // CASHAPP // AMAZON WISHLIST // (if you’d like to support via paypal, let me know off anon!!)

[ladysharmaa]

Kate mini version

Sharma!sis x Queen Charlotte's son

Summary: After the ball, everyone knows what happened between Y/n and Prince Charles. With the attention of high society members and the Queen, they face new obstacles as they fall in love.

part 1 part 2 part 3

Dearest reader,

The tone is abuzz with the latest gossip, and so it's my honor to impart to you.

Miss Y/n Sharma came to England after Kate Sharma's marriage to Viscount Bridgerton. In such a short time she managed to do something that no one else has managed to do: capture the attention of Queen Charlotte's youngest son, Prince Charles.

Dearest reader, this author finds herself compelled to share the most curious of news. It seems the two seemed to be quite close during the last dance, having danced together until Y/n walked away. But Prince Charles didn't take his eyes off the young woman for the rest of the night. Is a new romance brewing? Let's not forget that at the beginning of the season, her Majesty made her intentions clear of joining her youngest son with the princess of Austria.

In addition, Miss Y/n is here at her mother's request, living with her older sister, Kate Bridgerton, and her husband, Lord Bridgerton. Is it permanent or will she return to India? There are many mysteries yet to be unraveled.

On the other hand, the diamond of the season did not dance with any suitor, which may have made her Majesty uneasy. This author is left to wonder what shall her next move be, now that everything seems to be connected to the Bridgerton family.

Yours truly, Lady Whistledown

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"This is not good." Y/n muttered nervously, looking over Kate's shoulder to read the latest edition of Lady Whistledown. And to his greatest horror, she was the main topic. "How many people read this?"

"Too many." the older sister sighed, before placing the paper next to her and turning to Y/n who had her eyes increasingly wide. "Everything's fine. Most of the family has already suffered from Lady Whistledown's words and we support each other. And everything ended up being fine, the ton has short memory and will forget all about this by the next scandal."

"But what if they don't forget?"

"If they don't forget what?" a new voice intruded into the conversation.

Y/n let out a small scream, immediately recognizing Anthony's voice, and hurried to hide the paper behind her back. "Nothing. It's a beautiful day, I'm going to the gardens. Maybe hide there all day. Or all year."

"Y/n, no. You have to tell Anthony, he won't blame you for anything."

Bridgerton's eyebrows rose upon hearing that, turning to Y/n with a frown upon noticing her terrified expression. "What happened?"

"My apologies, Anthony. The last thing I wanted to do was associate the name Bridgerton with scandals. Lady Whistledown wrote about last night. About… About Prince Charles and I." She looked down, not wanting to see Anthony's disapproving look, and handed him the paper.

The minutes dragged on. To Y/n it felt like hours had passed. Long hours with just the silence in the room. Her heart was pounding against her chest and she tried to control the tears from reaching her eyes. Her head was running with different questions that only made her anxiety worse. Would they send her back to India so they wouldn't suffer any more from this scandal? She didn't know that dancing with someone could cause so many problems.

Just the thought of returning to her homeland, despite having loved growing up there, brought her great sadness. Her life was in England now. She adored her sister's family, having grown up close to many of them, especially Francesca and Hyacinth. And the truth is that she had enjoyed meeting Prince Charles. Y/n finally felt like she belonged somewhere.

She snapped out of these thoughts when she heard Anthony sigh. What was that? Disappointment? Anger? Sadness?

"Look at me." he said, but Y/n refused, knowing that as soon as she looked at the couple she would burst into tears. She shook her head, pursing her lips. "Y/n…"

"Please don't send me back to India."

"What?" the Viscount questioned in shock, almost not having noticed her from how quietly she spoke. He felt Kate hold his hand, looking sadly at her sister. "Y/n, look at us. We are not going to send you back to India."

"Really?" She raised her head shyly, her eyes red from holding back tears.

"Of course. You're part of the family. I haven't told you yet, but Mama sent a letter. Edwina had problems during the birth, so she's going to stay there until at least the rest of the year. You're going to stay with us. Here."

"Y/n, we would never send you away because of Lady Whistledown's news. You're a Bridgerton now." Anthony assured, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. Her smile upon hearing those words, although still small, released some of the stress that Anthony and Kate were feeling.

"Hey, Anthony, I was wondering— Oh, sorry!" Hyacinth entered the room, stopping when she saw the three of them and the tense atmosphere it was in. Then he noticed the sad face and the paper his brother was holding. "Is that from Lady Whistledown? What does it say?"

"It doesn't matter what it says. What did you want to tell me, Hyacinth?"

"Oh, I was wondering if we could go horse riding. I am so bored, Gregory is training and Benedict isn't paying attention to me." she pouted, causing Y/n to giggle and rush over to Hyacinth, intertwining their arms.

"Fear no more, I shall give you attention."

"Thank you, kind lady." Hyacinth laughed. "Please, Anthony, take us horse riding."

When he offered to teach Y/n how to ride a horse, the rest of his sisters were also invited, since the men already knew how to do it. As expected, only Hyacinth accepted with great enthusiasm while Eloise preferred to read and spend her time with her new friend, Miss Cressida. For her part, Francesca was never much for outdoor sports and Daphne was obviously busy with her husband and son. Thus, Y/n and the youngest Bridgerton both formed a special friendship, and were now a feared duo in the Bridgerton house.

"What do you say?" he whispered in his wife's ear, looking at the two girls who were giving them the best puppy dog ​​eyes. "I'm afraid I can't say no to them."

"I think it's a great idea." Kate smiled.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The four then ventured into the forest. Anthony and Kate were ahead, lost in their own world while Hyacinth and Y/n followed a little behind. The younger girl curiously questioned Sharma about the night of the ball, upset that she was still too young to attend one.

"I wish I had gone yesterday. Did you dance with someone yesterday? I tried to ask Francesca the same thing, but she wouldn't leave her room."

"Unexpected things happened. Francesca is just a little discouraged. As diamond of the season, she has a lot of pressure on her. And I… Well, I danced with someone."

"Prince Charles?! I saw you both when we went for a picnic, I think it was love at first sight." Hyacinth giggled.

"Sometimes I forget how good an observer you are. Yes, I danced with him." Before her friend could get too excited, Y/n hurried to add. "And I was naive, because although I enjoyed being with him, he has an enormous responsibility. I doubt people would want him to spend his time with me."

"Please, I think you are in love."

"What? Of course not, I barely know him. We just had fun dancing, but that must be over by now. I doubt her Majesty will let him dance with me again. Lady Whistledown made sure of that."

"If you say so. I, on the other hand, do not agree. Prince Charles has shown that he is interested in you. Or he would have danced with other girls after you. But he didn't."

"Well, maybe he was tired." Y/n shrugged, while Hyacinth rolled her eyes. They continued the walk in silence, enjoying the forest landscape.

“Girls, let’s do a race!” Anthony shouted, looking over his shoulder with a smirk. Y/n chuckled, knowing he had never met a family as competitive as the Bridgertons. But she was one now too, and she loved winning.

“Very well. But make sure you don’t get too sad when I win.” Hyacinth teased, despite being the one with the least experience riding a horse.

“We’ll see.” Kate joined the teasing.

The four positioned themselves next to each other, letting the man count down. Y/n grabbed the reins tighter, and as soon as Anthony finished, she let her horse run. For a moment they were all balanced, but Hyacinth quickly fell behind. The couple competed a little ahead, trying to reach a certain narrower entrance. So, with their attention diverted from her, she took the opportunity to step over a fallen tree trunk, arriving earlier at that entrance, continuing at the same pace.

She felt free on a horse. The wind hit their face, the landscape blurred from how fast they were going. Y/n petted the animal, feeling like they could conquer the world.

When she realized that the others had already stopped, as no one had yet reached her, she also slowed down so she could wait for them to catch up. They probably had to go back to help Hyacinth control her horse.

“That was impressive.” she heard behind her.

Although she felt a second of fear, thinking that an unknown man had found her alone in the middle of the forest, she quickly associated it with the voice of the person she least wanted to see at that moment. As such, she just closed her eyes and hoped it was just her imagination. But when he cleared his throat, she knew she had to face him. Finally, she commanded the horse to turn around, finding herself face to face with Prince Charles, who was also on top of a beautiful black horse.

“Prince Charles, it’s a pleasure to see you again.” she smiled shyly.

“You as well, Miss Y/N. I didn’t know you were so talented at riding. Did Lady Bridgerton teach you?”

“She and Viscount Bridgerton. And since then I haven’t wanted anything else.” she shrugged uncomfortably, both not knowing what to say. In this way, Y/n focused on the horse that the prince was riding, being shocked by its size. “Beautiful.” She looked at Charles, noticing his look of surprise and a slight blush appearing on his cheeks. “I mean, the horse— The horse is beautiful.”

“Of course.” he looked away, clearing his throat. “It seems we both had the same idea after the paper published by Lady Whistledown. A nice walk was exactly what I needed to get away from my mother.”

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to interfere with your marriage with the Princess of Austria.”

“Her Majesty wants me to marry her. But I don't. You see, a beautiful, fierce, remarkable girl has already caught my attention. It may seem sudden, but she is constantly in my thoughts.” he looked intensely into her eyes. Out of nowhere, it seemed like it had become much hotter, her breathing coming in muffled.

“Oh… I—”

“Y/n! Where are you?” Kate's voice was heard through the forest, breaking the atmosphere that had formed between them.

“I’m here, Kate.” Y/n replied, closing her eyes in despair when she realized that she would have a lot to explain once they arrived.

She had already taken a risk with Lady Whistledown, and now they were alone in an isolated place… It's a good thing no one outside the family would see them, or the scandal would have become much more serious. A feeling of guilt coursed through her body again. She had promised Anthony that she didn't want to associate the Bridgerton name with scandals, and here she was doing exactly the opposite.

“Prince Charles, we can’t talk anymore. It’s not right.” she said before the others appeared.

“Why not? Because of Lady Whistledown? Ignore her, the ton will quickly forget about this.”

“You don’t know that!” Y/n exclaimed exasperated at how calm Charles seemed to be about this situation.

“I know that I want to be with you.”

“You are crazy!” she put her hand over her mouth when she realized that she had “insulted” a member of the royal family. “Apologies, Prince Charles. I didn’t mean that.”

“Call me Charles.”

“I take back my apologies.”

“Finally, we found you, Y/N. We had to go back because Hyacinth’s horse refused to move.” Kate appeared, followed by the others, stopping when she saw what was happening. She made a small bow, looking at them suspiciously. “Prince Charles, I didn’t expect to see you here. Especially with my sister.”

“What do you think you are doing?” Anthony wasn't as friendly as his wife, narrowing his eyes and approaching Y/n to stand slightly in front of her.

“Lord Bridgerton, I guarantee nothing happened. I was simply, like you, taking a walk when I saw Miss Y/n. We only talk about what Lady Whistledown wrote.” Charles assured, sending a comforting smile to Y/n, who was watching the two nervously.

“It was mere chance that we found each other. We can go back to the house now.”

Anthony signaled to Kate, who nodded. They had mastered the art of speaking with just their eyes, it still left Y/n quite confused when they did that. But this time, she understood perfectly. Lowering her head slightly, she followed her sister and Hyacinth home, while Anthony and Charles remained behind. Over her shoulder, she mumbled a quick apology to the boy, hoping he would understand what she meant.

When the women were out of sight, Anthony turned to the Prince , who appeared unaffected. “I hope you’re not trying to ruin my wife’s sister’s reputation. You know very well what the ton would say if they found you in this situation. And I guarantee you, you don’t want to duel me.”

“I agree. That's the last thing I desire. Miss Y/n would certainly never speak to me again. And I don't want that. Lord Bridgerton, we were just talking, and on horses for more. But, for all the respect I have for Miss Y/n and the Bridgerton family, I assure you this will never happen again.”

"It better not."

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

After a tense conversation with Kate and Anthony, they believed Y/n when she said it was a coincidence to meet Prince Charles, but that she understood the gravity of being alone with a man.

So, she spent a few days locked up at home, hoping that the scandal had already been forgotten. However, this isolation couldn't last forever, so she was forced to join the Bridgerton family on a walk by the lake.

She had her arm linked with Benedict's, Eloise beside her, while they listened to Collin's travel stories. He had seen so much, experienced so many new cultures, that Y/n just wanted to know more. Eloise, in turn, seemed envious that only men could have the pleasure of traveling alone wherever they wanted, and Benedict asked about the art of each country, something that Y/n barely understood.

However, Collin ended up rushing the end of the story, seeing a group of girls walking, giggling when they saw him. Eloise groaned in disgust, while Benedict shook his head, changing direction so he wouldn't have to watch his brother flirt. Y/n also went with them, not wanting to see that scene.

But she noticed that they had been stopped by Lady Wilson, whose daughter was participating in the season along with Y/n, Francesca, and Eloise. "Good afternoon, Lady Wilson."

"Good afternoon." she said. "I noticed you didn't go to the ball yesterday. I haven't yet had a chance to talk with Lady Bridgerton to know if everything is alright."

"Thank you for your concern." Benedict said sarcastically, taking control since Anthony wasn't around. "We had other matters to attend, but I assure you that we will be present at the ball tomorrow."

"That's wonderful news." the woman said with a fake smile. "In that case you will be able to see my daughter dancing with Prince Charles, just like yesterday. They form a beautiful couple, don't you think?"

Y/n had to control herself not to roll her eyes. It was clear what Lady Wilson was trying to do, but there would be no reaction from her. Eloise and Benedict looked at her from the corner of their eyes, waiting to know if Y/n needed them to interrupt the conversation.

"I don't know. I didn't see them together nor did I have the opportunity to know about it since Lady Whistledown didn't write about them. And we all know that she writes about everything that happens, and it seems especially important if the prince is interested in someone to court. Looks like we'll have to wait and see."

"Yes, we shall wait." Lady Wilson clenched her jaw. "I'm certain that the prince loved to dance with my daughter."

"If you say so. Please excuse us, we shall return to the rest of our family." Y/n said dryly, hurrying to walk in the opposite direction with the two Bridgertons behind her.

"Jealous, dear sister?" Benedict asked with a sly smile once they were far enough away from the woman.

"No. Why would I be?" Y/n pretended not to be bothered, but in reality the thought of Charles dancing with someone else didn't sit very well with her. But what could she be expecting, she had said that they shouldn't talk anymore and he had to get married this season. "I'm just surprised that Lady Wilson is so confident in her daughter with the prince when the Queen wants him with the princess of Austria."

"Hmm." was the only response she received from Benedict. Eloise, already fed up with just hearing about the season, changed the subject and Y/n was also grateful for that. The last thing she wanted was to think about the next ball.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

"What are you going to do?" Hyacinth asked as she helped Y/n and Francesca get ready for ball. The two had already put on their dresses and now all that was left was the jewelry. Kate had already come to say that they would have to leave soon, smiling calmly when she noticed the nervous state of her sister who had changed her dress about five times already.

“About what?”

“About the prince, obviously.”

“I don’t know. I am a little confused. This is all happening so quickly. And the fact that Lady Whistledown wrote about us didn't help. But the truth is that when I'm with him, I don't know, I feel different.” Y/n tried to explain, but realized she couldn't describe her feelings in words. It was something foreign to her, but not unwanted.

“I know what it is. You like him.” the Bridgerton dropped onto the bed dramatically.

“But liking may not be enough. Don't forget that the Queen has a lot of influence on these things. And I wouldn’t want to piss her off, it would only hurt all of you.”

"You are exaggerating. Francesca, what do you think of this?”

“What?” the girl snapped out of her thoughts when she heard her name. “Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

“What are you thinking about?” Y/n sat next to her, taking her hand.

“I haven't had almost any suitors yet. And the ones I have seem incapable of having a conversation. What if I don’t find anyone?” Francesca revealed with a sigh, her voice tinged with sadness.

“Nonsense. Everyone would love to dance with you. In fact, I have a feeling you are going to meet someone today.” the Sharma said. “And for that to happen, we must leave and go to this ball. If you need to, we can stay together all night.”

“Thank you, but it won’t be necessary. I want you to have your chance with the prince.”

“After all, you were listening!” Hyacinth exclaimed, groaning as the two left the room and left her there. Now she had to wait until tomorrow to find out everything that was going to happen!

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

The ball was already full of people, from nervous mothers to innocent daughters who giggled when a suitor asked them to dance. Y/n and Francesca walked in together, both of them taking deep breaths and looking at each other in encouragement. They could do this.

While Francesca's nerves increased as she saw the Queen's eyes fall on her, Y/n's heart began to beat faster when she noticed Charles, who was standing next to his mother. However, he was not alone, finding himself in conversation with the princess of Austria. From what the Sharma could understand from the few moments in which she let herself focus on them, they seemed to be getting along well, sharing polite smiles.

"Maybe we shall get a refreshment first?" Y/n said, seeing that the family had already dispersed.

"A great idea." Francesca swallowed, nodding several times.

The two hurried to a corner of the room, sending a quick smile to the people passing by. Fortunately, no one engaged them in a long conversation, allowing them to mentally prepare themselves to face that night.

They stopped next to Penelope, who looked at the dancing couples with a sad look. "Are you alright, Penelope?"

"Yes, of course, Francesca." the redhead replied shyly, offering a small smile to the two girls. "You ought to take the floor."

"Ought we?" the Bridgerton chuckled humorlessly.

"Once one finds oneself on the wall, it is difficult to come off it. No matter what one does." Penelope looked down, pursing her lips.

"Better to be on the wall than to make fools of ourselves." Y/n she murmured, discreetly looking at the boy who had invaded her heart, still talking to the beautiful princess. Only this time, almost feeling her gaze on him, he glanced at her, showing what appeared to be a genuine smile. "This is so confusing."

"I agree. At least the wall doesn't ask me about what makes me tick." Francesca complained, still upset about the failed conversations from the last ball. The older girl looked at her understandingly, noticing that Francesca was more reserved. Maybe that was what made her rare, different from all the other girls.

"And why are you on the wall, Penelope? I'm sure there are lots of gentlemen here who would be more than willing to ask for your hand in a dance!"

"Oh no. Nobody wants to dance with me. Believe me." she replied with a slight blush, embarrassed that she didn't have any suitors when this wasn't her first season, unlike them.

"They must be blind, then. You are beautiful." Y/n confessed honestly, really confused that they let such an incredible person like Penelope escape. If she could, she would drag the redhead and Francesca to dance, but she knew it was against the rules.

The three fell into a silence, not uncomfortable, but as if they all had more to think about than trying to carry on a conversation. From the other side of the room, Charles watched Sharma as if in a trance, quickly leaving the conversation he was having to go to meet her.

However, he was interrupted by Charlotte who discreetly held his arm. "What are you doing? Must I remind you that you shall marry this season?"

"Why are you putting so much pressure on me with this. You have so many other children, but I'm the only one who has to suffer with this."

"Your siblings reproducing bastards for me to ignore. You are my last hope, son. I have made sure to give so many heirs to your father, and none of my children seem to be fornicating." she said. When she noticed that she was being too harsh with her youngest son, she sighed. "Bridgerton, Charles?"

"What seems to be the problem? You've already accepted many of their marriages, including naming two Bridgertons as diamonds of the season and ignoring the scandal between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Bridgerton." Charles controlled himself not to roll his eyes.

"Yes… But that was until my son was mentioned in the paper of Lady Whistledown because he was just interested in a girl. Especially when the princess of Austria traveled here just to meet you."

"And I enjoyed meeting her. But I enjoyed much more meeting Y/n Sharma." he admitted, his voice conveying the confidence he felt in those words. "She's the one I want. The one I'll follow to the end of the world if necessary. Don't make me marry someone else, mom, I want her. Just her."

"I believe the boy is in love." Lady Dandbury appeared beside them, looking at the boy with knowing eyes. Charlotte glanced at her from the corner of her eye. "The dance they shared was remarkable. The London Season is already terribly monotonous as it is. Therefore, these cases of passion make it more enjoyable. Don't you agree?"

"Indeed, Lady Danbury." Charles nodded, appreciating her help in convincing the Queen. "May I go now?"

Charlotte watched him for a few moments, noticing how he was restless, his body tilted towards Y/n. Almost as if he had no control over himself, unconsciously wanting to always be close to her. This wait was killing him.

The woman didn't respond verbally, just offered a small nod of permission, and her son was gone in the blink of an eye.

Almost running, the prince arrived next to Y/n, who continued to watch people dancing. She was now only with Penelope, as Francesca was taken by Violet to meet some suitors. Charles approached silently, placing himself in her line of sight and simply offering her a hand.

"What are you doing?" she whispered with wide eyes. Beside her, Penelope excused herself, giving the couple space. Not that they paid much attention, appearing not to have even heard her.

"Isn't it obvious? I'm asking you to dance with me."

"You don't give up, do you?" Y/n let a small smile appear, pretending to be upset by the boy's persistence. Inwardly, her heart was beating furiously fast. She didn't want to dance. She wanted to get away from there so she could be with Charles alone, the two of them talking all night.

But their moment was interrupted by Lady Wilson's daughter, who suddenly appeared and grabbed the prince's arm. "Prince Charles, you promised me a dance. Shall we?"

Y/n took a step back, trying to hide her sadness. Charles hadn't even removed her arm from his. This was a reminder that Charles was not yet hers, and with her indecision, that was becoming increasingly difficult. He had so many good options for marriage, why would he choose her? What made her special from all the others?

Trying to make sure no one saw the tears that threatened to appear, the Sharma decided it was best to leave for the rest of the night. Perhaps Anthony and Kate would believe she was feeling unwell and needed to go home.

But before he could move away completely, Charles snapped out of his shock, grabbing Y/n's hand to pull her closer while shaking the other woman's hold.

He clenched his jaw, upset at not being able to have a single moment of peace with Y/n. "My apologies, Miss." Y/n had to put her hand over her mouth to hide her amusement when Charles didn't remember the girl's name. "Right now, I would like to dance with Miss Y/n. So if you will excuse us."

"But—"

"What do you say, Miss Y/n. Shall you give me the pleasure of having this dance?" Charles asked quickly before the annoying girl spoke again. His attention was on Sharma, who was looking at him adoringly. Was this what people felt when they were in love? It felt like he couldn't breathe. In a good way.

"We shall… Charles." she laughed. Charles' mouth opened in shock, appearing to have frozen to the ground. In a playful way, she rolled her eyes, guiding him to the dance floor, which was now empty as people saw the two walk there.

Despite the nerves she felt, Y/n felt good with Charles, so she decided to ignore ton's opinions on this. The boy bowed as he offered her his hand, followed by a bow from Y/n, and immediately the music began.

"You called me Charles."

"A very good observation."

"You know, I thought Lord Bridgerton would kill me the moment I looked at you. It would be worth it." he twirled her around, loving it when he heard her little giggles. When she landed on the ground, her eyes found Kate and Anthony watching them, but instead of upset, they looked happy that Y/n was happy. "I must say that when you said we couldn't meet again, it hurt."

"My deepest apologies. How could I have said such absurd things?" Y/n said dramatically, noticing Charles' amusement.

"All is well now. As long as you promise to not run anymore. Even if Lady Whistledown or someone else writes about us. I promise I won't let anything hurt you or your family."

Y/n focused on his eyes. They were honest and had a glow of adoration about them. "What about the Princess of Austria?"

"As I also told her Majesty, I have no interest in her. My heart already belongs to you, Y/n. No one else can take your place."

The music was slowing down, indicating that it would end soon. The boy gripped Y/n's waist tighter, fearing that he would have to let go when he was enjoying savoring every moment of their closeness.

"My heart belongs to you too, Charles." she scrunched her eyebrows and Charles could feel his heart close to bursting. He wanted to marry her.

Instead, he controlled himself from saying it right away, knowing that he would have to talk to Anthony first and ask for Y/n's hand in marriage. Or he feared the Bridgerton wrath. For now, having Y/n in his arms was enough.

[starsofang]

AN ANGEL WEEPS

guardian angel!simon x reader word count: 5k tw: NSFW, MDNI, death, bits of gore, religious themes, violence, heavy angst summary: simon would destroy the heavens and earth in order to be with you. heavily requested oneshot from this drabble!

Simon wasn’t partial to humans. You’d think with him being a guardian angel to many over the centuries, he would grow to like them. Really, it wasn’t that he disliked them, but more so couldn’t empathize with them like other angels could. Some were weak, some were selfish, some were burdening. All of them, though, were on borrowed time, and that was exactly where he came in.

There wasn’t ever a human life that Simon did not keep protected. All of his subordinates, as he called them, lived long enough to see their hair turn gray and their skin mold into wrinkles and age lines. Not once had a human died young under his watch, and he planned to keep it that way.

It seemed the gods held his professionalism to their advantage. Now that his previous subject had passed of old age, he was tasked with a new one. A more challenging one.

You, a high risk. Normally, people of your kind that had a doomed fate from birth were paired with angels who specialized in that. While Simon was practically one and the same with the others, he typically requested humans that wouldn’t be a pain in his ass.

You were different, though. Something about you compelled Simon to take on the task of being your guardian angel, and he was curious to find out what it was. You didn’t seem like you’d give him trouble at all. You were simply unfortunate in the hand of life, and he was determined to turn it in your favor.

On his first day of being your protector, he watched. Observed. He took the time to jot mental notes down of your routine. You weren’t a busy gal, that much he realized, but you were simple. He liked simple. It meant he wouldn’t have to chase you around like a loose pig escaping its pen.

The more he got to study you like a lab rat, the more he wondered what made you a high risk. You didn’t drink, nor did you do drugs. You didn’t spend the wee hours of the night partying. Hell, you didn’t even have a boyfriend to occupy your time. Even now, as he watched, you entered a bookstore, prancing around from shelf to shelf to read each book cover with keen interest, tucking your desired favorites under an arm.

Just from the first day alone, Simon came to think of you as soft and kind. You were the girl who helped the elderly cross the street, or the type that fed the stray cats in the alley, even if you used your last dollar to make it happen. You were a being with a heart of gold, and it was rare for Simon to see somebody so pure.

You were the type of person many took advantage of. He’d seen it plenty of times before – men and women of all kinds, using your big heart to get what they want, just to leave it shattered in pieces on the ground with no way of repairing it. Simon wouldn’t allow that to happen. He’d seen what he needed to see, and that was enough for him to become your permanent guard dog for the rest of your days, which he swore to himself would be bountiful.

There was one problem, though.

You could see him. He didn’t know how, he didn’t know why, but when his little journey of following you around the city became abundantly clear, you confronted him about it, no bark, no bite. 

“Why are you following me?” you asked. Simon was fully expecting a tone of anger, a weak attempt at trying to be intimidating towards a brooding angel like him, but none of that came. In fact, despite your clear discomfort, you remained soft-spoken. Your voice was sweet as honey, smooth in the way it rolled off your tongue.

“Are you talkin’ to me?” Simon gruffed, eyes narrowing at you. You blinked at him dumbly, glancing around the bookstore before focusing back on him.

“Of course,” you confirmed in confusion.

He wasn’t sure what to do. This had never happened before, and it was wrong. Very, very wrong. Humans still partaking in the act of life weren’t able to see angels, let alone speak to them. It was against the very act of being angels. Silent protectors. Invisible.

Something was terribly off. Perhaps you were a fluke. Or perhaps you were far closer to death than he thought.

Simon was completely stumped. His very existence was the greatest kept secret in all of Earth’s lifespan. Not a single breathing soul knew of the actuality of angels. Sure, many believed in them – it wasn’t a secret in teachings, but that’s all it was. A belief. A strike of faith.

“Sir?” you called out. It successfully snapped him out of his spell-like hypnosis, realizing he was staring at you with a guise of puzzlement. He cleared his throat, standing a bit taller, eyes darting around the room.

“This isn’t how this is supposed to go,” he muttered to himself. You made a noise of perplexity.

“Pardon?” you questioned. Simon silently cursed (lord forgive him).

“This,” he repeated, gesturing between the two of you with a hand. “You’re not supposed to see me. Something must be truly wrong.”

Your expression morphed into lines of confusion and concern, eyes widening into fearful saucers. You looked scarcely similar to a lost puppy, one who had just been told bad dog. Simon felt a twinge of sympathy in your favor. How confusing it must be to have been followed around by a man who was sorrowfully unaware that you knew of his presence.

“Are you a ghost?” you asked, causing a crack of a smile to threaten on Simon’s lips.

“Somethin’ like that,” he mused. “Perhaps this might be easier if we talk somewhere privately.”

At first, you looked hesitant, and he didn’t blame you. He knew how weary humans were of strangers, after all, but Simon was no stranger – at least, he wouldn’t be in his eyes. He would know you the longer he silently protected you as your guardian, while you remained blissfully oblivious to his existence. It seemed that part wasn’t in the cards this time around.

Somehow, you agreed, following him out of the bookstore and on to the bustling streets, walking side by side with him. It was silent at first, Simon keeping his eyes trained forward, alert to any dangers nearby. It was in his blood to sniff out misfortunes from a mile away, and considering your state of high risk, you attracted them like flies.

“Suppose I’ll give it to you straight,” he began, garnering your attention almost immediately. Your eyes were pooled with dread, most likely expecting horrible news. Or wondering why you had followed a strange man with so much blinded trust. “Do you believe in angels?”

“Angels?” you gawked, the words unexpected. It was the last thing you imagined he’d say, and it took you for a complete whirlwind. “Why do you ask?”

“Do you?” he repeated. He turned his head to look at you, noting the gears turning in that brain of yours. It was subtle, but you were an easy read.

“Yes, I guess I do. There’s no proof of them not existing, so I can’t exactly say they’re not real, right?” you claimed, and the warmth in your tone made Simon smile.

He quite liked your character so far. Easygoing with incredible wit and enthrall. It was a breath of fresh air from some of the other people he’d been subjected to. There wasn’t a hint of malice in your aura, no storm clouds that hovered over you in the form of looming threat, no black smoke billowing around you in a polluted smother.

In fact, it was nothing short of bright. Hues of yellow emanating beaming rays. A burst of sunlight, down to the bone.

“Smart girl,” Simon hummed softly, returning his gaze forward as the two of you walked. “This is your first time talkin’ to one, I presume.”

For a moment, you were silent. He could feel your eyes studying the side of his face, desperately attempting to pry open his mind and see inside for yourself. He allowed you the complexity of wishful thinking.

“What do you mean by that?” you dared to ask, curiosity getting the better of yourself. You didn’t feel like the smart girl he claimed you to be at all. Matter of fact, you were perhaps a very stupid girl for following an unfamiliar man and listening to him speak of a higher power. You were even stupider for blossoming an interest.

It was a difficult conversation to have, one Simon wasn’t prepared for at all. He had to explain it in blunt terms, introducing himself as your guardian angel while you stared at him like a dead fish.

Yet somehow, despite receiving such complex information, you accepted it, giving him a smile and your name that he already had mapped in the back of his memory. You didn’t shy away from him. He didn’t understand. He knew humans were complicated, but he had never met one so trusting of his word.

Simon fully expected a breakdown, or a freak out. Perhaps even a fuck off with you going about your day. Earthlings didn’t know that angels existed, so to meet your very own, one so tall and brooding, intimidating and unapproachable with large, white wings that tucked into the comfort of his back, hidden, it was a damning thing. But you accepted, so easily, too.

It was strange. You were strange. Not in a cruel way like he had previously thought of humans, but in a warm way that left him confused. Perplexed. Such a sweet thing like you, so free of judgment and malice, only to end up with a terrible fate such as yours.. Now that was cruel.

Simon took a liking to you after your official meeting. He tried to deny it, reminding himself of his purpose, but it was hard not to form a friendship with you when you wouldn’t allow him otherwise. He stuck to you like glue, never letting you stray out of sight, waiting in the dark hours of the night for you to wake, watching silently while you’d read a book every night.

Where you went, he went. When you slept, he watched over you longingly. When you wept, he ached.

You became of utmost importance to him. You were his priority before, but now, it was set in stone that Simon would strive to give you the longest life, filled with nothing short of love and worship. When he formed this goal in mind, a second problem arose – saddened over the fact that it wouldn’t be him sharing it with you.

“Simon?” you asked him one night. Book in your lap, long forgotten as you stared up at him with an innocent curiosity. You were a nosy one, something he found out rather quickly, but instead of being met with his own annoyance, he grew quite fond of your wonder. “Does everybody have a guardian angel?”

He never got tired of your questions. In fact, he encouraged them. Conversation with you came easy, whether it was in the bright rise of the morning, or the wee hours of midnight. Simon wasn’t much of a talker until you came around, but sharing endless moments when it was just the two of you conversing as people became his favorite routine.

Simon perked up to look at you, eyebrows furrowing at your question. “No. Not everybody,” he answered honestly. You tilted your head at him, curious.

“Then how come I have you?” you questioned.

Simon stared at you, mulling over your inquisition. A pang of guilt tightened his chest. He knew the truth, yet you didn’t. You were blissfully unaware of what was at stake, why the heavens decided to gift you with him as your protector. You didn’t know how weak your own lifeline was, how you risked slipping in the depths of death every ticking second of the day.

He knew what was waiting for you at the end of the line. When you’d reach it, though, was the question. And he wished he had the answer.

“You’re just a special case, dove,” he explained, trying his best to be comforting. The last thing he wanted was for you to worry, to find out the real reason why he was assigned to you. “Nothin’ to stress about. Some people just get them early.”

“Special case?” you repeated to yourself, finger pressing to your chin in thought, face pulling into confusion.

Simon remained silent, eyes shifting away from you to allow you the time to think. He knew you had a hyperactive mind, one that may have been the very thing to cause your future downfall, but he didn’t have the heart to stop it. Perhaps he was a selfish angel, for he loved hearing your voice, loved hearing the cluttered mess of your thoughts.

He was becoming dangerously devoted to you.

Angels and humans were not meant to form bonds. Simon was already being greedy by allowing it to happen rather than cutting it off from the root. He was your protector, your guardian, yet he excused the blossoming growth of your relationship as playing his role. The closer he got to you, the higher of a chance he had in saving you.

“Simon?” you called out once again, garnering his attention. He heard the hesitation in your own tone, as if you didn’t want to speak your mind. “I’m not going to die, am I?”

If Simon had a working heart, it would have shattered right there. If he had a living, human soul, it would’ve lost its glowing light, fading into aching darkness.

“No, dove,” he lied, flashing you an assuring smile. “M’just here to keep you safe, that’s all.”

You breathed a sigh of relief, and Simon felt that nauseating guilt crawl its way back under his skin. It pricked him with unease. He hated lying to you, providing empty promises that your life was under no threat.

He never worried about humans. He did as he was meant to do, and that was the extent of it. Yet with you, he worried that if he didn’t go above and beyond his normal procedures, your blood would be on his hands. He didn’t know if he could live with himself for the upcoming centuries if he failed to keep his promise.

A world where your laughter drifted away with the wind, rather than fill the air of his presence, was a world unworthy. A world without you would be unfair.

As Simon watched you return to your book, your curious mind put on temporary pause, he vowed to keep the Earth spinning with you on it, alive and well, safe and sound – just as he’s meant to do, without the baggage of complex emotions he shouldn’t be feeling in the first place.

The longing for you never became easier. In fact, the progression of the harbored affection only grew tenfold. Iit was increasingly difficult to continue with his duty as your protector without coming to the admission.

Simon, an angel, was falling for a human he was meant to keep safe, keep alive. Two beings, divided by separate worlds, yet he resided in yours as if he belonged there. The more time he spent in your orbit, the more the desire blossomed.

He was a smart angel, one that had developed a keen sense for human emotion over the centuries spent silently observing them. Simon knew that his feelings weren’t unreciprocated, and it was what terrified him greatly. Fear and love, mixing in the absence of his own humanity, taking control of his motherboard and turning on autopilot.

He suppressed these feelings as much as he could. The hierarchs he reported to could have no hint of these befuddling emotions that were causing warmth to run through his bloodstream, as if he were slowly becoming human himself. He could not allow them, or himself, get in the way of his original mission.

That’s what he tried to do, at least.

It wasn’t until a normal night, pent up in your apartment with a warm mug of tea, a book nuzzled in your other hand and a blanket thrown across you to form a picture of pure sweetness, that his resolve began to crack.

You, innocent and curious you, always asking questions about him and never making the conversation selfishly about you, had requested to see his wings. The white, feathered beauties, tucked away in the dip of his shoulder blades, hidden and protected. You were considerate in the way you asked, giving him an opt out if he wasn’t comfortable. No human had ever seen his wings, let alone him, and he found denying you much more difficult than he thought it would be.

So he did as you asked – unfurled his wings, allowing the slow stretch to showcase them. The feathers ruffled with his movement, but they glowed radiantly with the picture-perfect white. Once they were untucked and on display, Simon realized how vulnerable all of this was. He was bearing himself to you with no obstacles standing in the way. He was showing the real part of himself, and you were watching in patient admiration, taking in every tuft of feather.

The wrongfulness of his action was smothered over with the look in your eyes. You gazed at him as if he were the most beautiful thing that God had created, setting aside your book and tea in order to step up to him fully. You were silent, taking him in, taking your time. When you carefully reached out a hand with an itch to feel the soft wings, he didn’t stop you. He should’ve, but he couldn’t.

“You’re wonderful,” you breathed, speaking of him so highly that it made the organ in his chest clench with an ache. Your touch was gentle, nimble fingers smoothing over the tuft feathers. The pads of your fingers were soft, and it caused him to relax, releasing a breath he was unaware of holding.

“Please do not say that to me,” he whispered, voice tight. He took a shaky breath in, shutting his eyes so he didn’t have to look into your own. “Please.”

Your eyes flickered across his face, taking in how reluctant he was. He was holding back, this you knew, and while you understood, a part of you wished he would open himself up. For months, you had walked a thin line, but it had quickly shifted into something more dangerous. Feelings, ones that matched his own.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized softly, beginning to take your hand off of his wing. Before you could remove it, his own hand caught yours, warm fingers wrapping around your smaller ones. He dared to open his eyes, nearly collapsing under the sparkling gaze you had so graciously reserved for him.

Slowly, he brought your hand up to his mouth, releasing a trembling breath before placing his lips to your soft skin. You watched silently, but made no move to pull away. “What are you doin’ to me, dove?” he asked, flustered. “This is… this is not right.”

His eyes bore into yours, sinking into your lovely irises, growing lost in them. There was an unfamiliar pounding in his chest, a foreign swarm of fluttering butterflies in his stomach, things only humans felt for one another. Angels were not meant to feel this way for a human, and humans were not supposed to know they existed.

Yet, he couldn’t deny the pure fondness he held towards you. How he sought you out in every given moment, how his body longed for you every morning and every night. His mind felt that this was right, that it was meant to be, while the voice in the back of his head told him this would end in misery.

With the way you were looking at him as if he had captured the sun and stars just for you, he found himself moving without thought. Lips pressing to yours, his hand gripping your own in a vice, as if scared you may crumble to ash if he let go. You reciprocated, and that was your mistake – there was no going back, and Simon wasn’t sure if he’d want to.

Humans performed things in the heat of the moment. It was something Simon had come to learn over his many years of study, yet him kissing you so suddenly had made him feel like one. It was terrifying, yet exhilarating all at once. To feel alive, to feel real.

He performed the ultimate act of sin with you. He was clumsy and awkward, inexperienced in the way he had you melting on his tongue, arching your back off of the sofa he took you on. Everything you offered would have him sent into an early grave if he were a living being. Ironic, considering it was you on that path, something he had forgotten about in between your shared intimacy.

Simon never knew how wonderful it felt to be connected with a mortal in a physical sense. Inside of you, engulfed in your warmth that clenched around him so deliciously, writhing beneath him like a fever was coursing through your veins. You looked lovely, even with a scorching warmth to your skin and a sheen of sweat lining your forehead.

His wings cocooned around you both as he lost himself in you, swallowing your beautiful whines that resembled heaven’s choir. Your hand caressed the soft feathers of his wings while the other held on to his shoulder, nails digging into his skin, grounding yourself.

Everything about this act was pure sin. It was a test of the devil himself, and he had strayed off of the path of forgiveness and had ventured to a land of lustful desire. Yet, he continued on the path, moving on his own free will further and further the more your body took him in. Your pleasure was his newfound call, his new purpose.

As your body succumbed to its own heated climax, he watched in awe at the way your mouth fell open, eyes lidded halfway, clouding over with a lovely husk of satisfaction. You were more beautiful than any heaven he had seen, and if Simon could die, he’d seek you as his afterlife.

He should’ve regretted it. It was in his blood to find purity, to hold value in the sentiment of God. But as he laid there, your body spent and exhausted, soft breaths leaving your lips, he felt no such thing. He wrapped his wings around you, smothering you in a security blanket, using the purest part of him to keep you sound.

Simon should’ve known that the moment he fell in love with you, things would never go the way he wanted. He should’ve reminded himself of why he was your guardian in the first place, yet he had been nothing but selfish. He involved himself in you far too much, ignoring the angel on his right shoulder in order to listen to the devil on his left.

When he had been told you were a high risk, he never would’ve imagined that he would be the reason.

Everything happened far too quickly for Simon to comprehend. He wasn’t paying attention, he wasn’t protecting you. It seemed almost instant that your body had been struck in the middle of the street, the night sky making everything much foggier to the eye. It started out as such a simple night, with Simon following along behind you while you made a stop at a crosswalk to pass the street.

Distracted by the flowers displayed in the window of a pretty flower shop, he was consumed by thoughts of wanting to surprise you with them. Though he was a mere angel and could get you flowers from mother Earth herself, he knew humans had different sentiments, flowers being one of them. While pondering which flower you might prefer, the entire world had stopped in the midst.

Dreadful sounds of tires screeching, a loud explosion of crashing noises that made his ears prick, and you – silent. Not a single peep. It made his blood run cold, because you weren’t silent. You were curious, talkative, always letting it slip what was on your mind.

Simon stared at your unmoving body on the road, battered and bloodied, tainted with impurity. It was the complete opposite of what you had been. It was something you should’ve never been in the first place.

His legs moved before he could tell them to, and he found himself crumbling to the ground, taking hold of your body in his arms. Blood seeped from your head, painting your skin an ugly crimson. It was thick and vile. It didn’t belong. Not on you.

He became frantic. He didn’t have to listen to know your heart was no longer beating, because he just knew. You were the tattered version of yourself. A corpse, no longer able to smile at him, or ask your silly questions, or tell him you loved him. You were dead, just as your prophecy had predicted, and Simon had failed.

Weeping over your body did nothing to change fate. For the first time in all of Simon’s life span, he cried, ugly tears and snot, babbling nonsense from his mouth as he begged for you to wake up. He shook you in desperation, before holding you close to his chest and securing his wings around the two of you, unable to bear the thought that he had lost you.

The heavens were in havoc. One of their beloved angels, falling for a mortal? Completing acts of sin? It was true blasphemy, a desecration to their name. The world as they knew it was falling apart, and it was all because Simon was selfish and unholy.

Tossing him out was done without question. Sent to the burning pits of hell, white feathers falling from his wings only to be replaced with raven, black and nightmarish. He was one of hell’s fallen angels, while you remained at the top, separated and alone. Simon was one of God’s failed creations, and no amount of redemption or prayer would have him fluttering back up to his pearly gates. Home was no more, though he was sure that at some point, heaven was forgotten and you had replaced that title before he lost you.

Being apart from you was torturous. It felt as if he was missing half of his body, half of his soul. Apart of different worlds once again, not meant to be. Unfated. Simon couldn’t allow that to happen.

Even if it took him years to return to his beloved, he would do it. Even if it meant trudging through the depths of hell in order to crawl to the top, he’d complete the journey without pause.

Heaven may be strong, but his love for you was stronger.

War broke out between the heavens and hell. Colliding forces, shedding blood of the pure, and venom of the demented. It was a battlefield that Simon had been the cause for, vision red with rage. He saw nothing but the fueling desire to be reunited with you, and it wouldn’t simmer until that occurred.

Far too much time passed since he had seen you. Years, even, though he wasn’t sure – everything felt like a lifetime without you by his side. He had lost count of how many sins he had committed, how many angels he had slain in order to become one step closer to seeking your soul. The lovely angel Simon had once been was murdered and buried, filled with angry vengeance that poked through the eyes of a devil.

He wondered if you would forgive him, if you would still love him. After all, he was a blackened version of himself, no longer the image of purity. He was a beast unleashed.

All of those worries melted away into a yearning ache when all war had ceased. You had been expecting him, it seems, waiting for him. Your soul was still as radiant as ever, yet he was now a dark void in comparison.

“Simon,” you greeted, and oh, how he missed your sweet melody. Your voice alone, saying his name, had put out the raging fire in his bones.

“Dove,” he responded back, breathless. His heart was in his throat as he waited for your reaction, to see how you felt about him. His wings no longer white, his soul no longer sacred.

Time had taken a pause as the two of you stared at one another from your place in heaven. He was back in the place he originated from, yet it felt cold and desolate. It was a grueling task to make it this far, and he prayed it wasn’t in vain.

“Your wings,” you commented, eyes fluttering down to take in the raven feathers. He sucked in a breath, prepared to hear your disappointment, but it never came. “They’re wonderful.”

It was the exact words you had used to describe him as an angel. Your love for him hadn’t changed, even though he did.

Simon smiled at you, full of light and warmth. You smiled back, and he was a done-for man. That smile was the reason for the heavens falling apart, yet it was still the most beautiful thing he’d come across. He never thought he’d see it again.

“I’ve come all this way for you, dove,” he murmured softly, taking a step forward. He reached out for your hand, holding it so tenderly in his. He lifted it, placing a sweet kiss to your knuckles. “Please, come back with me. Come home.”

To hell. To madness.

None of that mattered. Simon wouldn’t make the same mistake that he did when you were alive. This time, you would not be met with a foul end, and he would not live a life of regret.

You glanced down at your intertwined hands before looking back up at him, meeting his eyes. Your own were just as fond as before, lit up with the undying love that had never left.

“Take me home, Simon,” you assured, and the church bells sang.

i had many people asking for a full fic of guardian angel simon, so i am here to deliver. this concept's been on my mind for a while, and i finally pushed thru and wrote it fully, so i pray that it lives up to the standards everybody wanted <3

[rebelfell]

I could tell you this is *really* it, but you’d never believe me… 18+, MDNI 1.7k

older!fem!Harrington!reader x eddie munson

cw: pregnancy/fertility discussions

continued from here, index here

“Did you want one?”

Eddie’s voice barely manages to break through the fog your mind had slipped into.

Tangled up with him in the softness of your sheets, cast in the scarlet glow of your scarf-covered lamp, body shiny with a sheen of sweat and your legs still trembling with the effects of the last few hours, it was a miracle your floaty, dopamine-addled brain had even heard.

“Huh?” you asked, lifting your head the full two inches you were able.

He lifts himself from his place between your thighs, where he’s been the last…twenty minutes? Thirty? It’s hard to say. Time has a tendency to stretch and expand when he’s in this mood. 

When all he wants to do is live down there—not even actively trying to get you off, just letting his tongue glide through your folds and play with your clit. Unhurried and engrossed.

Like he has all the time in the world.

Because at last he does.

It was hardly an ideal time to ask, Eddie knew that. But he hadn’t been able to get the question out of his head since earlier that afternoon. Even now, when he was smack dab in his version of heaven, he couldn’t put off the question he’d been wanting to ask any longer.

So he didn’t.

“Did you want one?” he asks again. And then, when your brow furrowed and your head started to shake in confusion, he adds, “A baby.”

“A…baby?” You repeat it slowly, pushing up on your elbows to look at him.

The doe eyes come out in full force as he looks up at you and nods. Round and open and so, so vulnerable it made your chest ache. Even with all the efforts he’d put into making himself look older—the glasses he’d been wearing more and more often, the beard that he was letting grow in—those eyes always gave it away that deep down he was still that scared, eager little twenty-something puppy come to life.

“Why?” you snicker. “You got a friend who can get one wholesale?”

“No,” he snickers back, smoothing his hand over your stomach. A little higher than where a baby would go, but you don’t tell him that. “I was just wondering if you, you know…wanted one.”

“Eddie, I…” You trail off, not quite sure how to answer. Because you’re slowly but surely starting to realize he’s not joking. With a hard swallow, you ask, “Is this about what you found?”

He doesn’t need to nod for you to know it is.

In the midst of clearing out the closet, making room for him to start bringing his stuff over and slowly move in with you over the last few months of his lease, he’d unearthed something.

It was just a shoe box, something that would typically be totally inconsequential. Something you’d stowed on the top shelf in the far corner the first night you spent in this house. Something that only came out for short intervals during particularly heart wrenching bouts of nostalgia.

You hadn’t labeled or decorated it. Hadn’t put anything on it to indicate just how precious its contents were. Nothing more than a tiny “E” in ballpoint ink on the bottom corner of the lid. 

Small enough to miss easily. But Eddie didn’t.

Inside, he found all his notes from that summer folded back up into triangles. A bottle cap from his favorite beer. A guitar pick he’d left out on the patio table one night you’d sat outside looking at the stars while he strummed “Going to California” on his acoustic. He’d had it stuck in his head for days, ever since you told him how Robert Plant and Jimmy Page wrote it for Joni Mitchell.

All the things you felt compelled to keep without fully understanding why.

Near the top were the more recent additions—the blood-stained rag you’d used to bind his hand the day he helped you move. Then the postcard from Berlin Steve sent you that mentioned his name. The envelope with the foreign postage he’d sent your bear in, a copy of Corroded Coffin’s CD.

And the outer packaging of a pregnancy test.

You hadn’t kept the stick itself. That had struck you as a bit too gross. But the box had lain in your wastebasket for weeks, staring at you from atop a pillow of used tissues and make-up wipes and q-tips and emptied toilet paper rolls. And when it finally came time to empty the basket, you found you couldn’t quite bring yourself to tie off the bag with it still sitting inside. 

So into the shoebox it went.

And when you came back up from downstairs, concerned by the sudden lack of thumping that had been near-constant all day, you found him sitting silently on the bed holding it in his hands.

You assured him it had been a false alarm. That the test was negative and that you promptly got your period just a few days after. That you opted not to tell him because you didn’t want him to worry, as you knew he would. That you knew he would have come running without a second thought. And as much as you wished he was there, you didn’t want to do that to him.

And he could understand all that. He really could.

But it doesn’t make him feel any less guilty that he wasn’t here. That he didn’t have a clue it was happening. And it doesn’t make him wonder any less what might have happened if the result had been different. Would you have told him then? Would you have wanted to keep it? Would you have asked his opinion, even knowing he would support whatever decision you made?

You could see his head was swimming with all these questions, getting lost in the whirlpool of them, and grabbed his face with your hands to pull his eyes to yours. 

Stop it, you told him solidly. You don’t need to feel bad about decisions we never had to make.

And you were right. He knew you were right. He didn’t need to worry about doing the right thing, because he could see it in your eyes that you knew he would have no matter what.

So the package went back in the box and the box went back in the closet. And you spent the rest of the day packing and sorting things into piles—toss, donate, storage—until half (okay, a little less than half) of the closet and drawer space was empty and ready for him.

You figured that was that. He didn’t mention it again or act remotely different as you sorted and talked and cleaned. Or when you finally showered and washed the layers of grime and sweat from your bodies only to crawl into the haven of your bed and fall into that easy and tempered, sort of languid lovemaking you both found you liked just as much as the urgent, desperate, carnivorous, animalistic kind of fucking you were prone to.

It wasn’t until he stopped to ask his question that you realized he was still thinking about it.

“Come up here,” you tell him, tugging loosely on a lock of hair by his ear.

And he does.

He slides up to lay beside you, head nestled in the crook of your neck, his breath fanning across your chest as he nuzzles his face against your chin.

You let your nails skim his back, trying to trace the shapes of tattoos you can’t see but know are there. The broadsword on his spine, the barbed vines that wrapped around his bicep, the D20 above his elbow and the bats beneath it.

“Do you want one?” you ask him after a long moment. Muted and wary.

He doesn’t respond right away, taking a beat to chew on his response. And you feel certain he can hear your heartbeat jump to an uneasy rhythm as you wait for his answer. Because what if he does? What if this is it? The moment you come to a real reason this can’t work—that he has dreamt his whole life of a family only to wind up with the person who can’t give him one?

“Honestly, I don’t know…but I’d love to give you one,” he answers solidly, “if that’s what you want. And I’d love there to be more of you in the world.”

“Ed,” you sigh, “I don’t even know if I can get—”

“What if we tried?” he asks, going on before you can dissuade it. “We don’t have to tell anyone we are, we can just…see if it happens. If it does, it does. And if it doesn’t, then…”

“Then what?” you ask quietly.

He shrugs, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. “Then I’d still have you.”

He rolls onto his elbow and looks up to see the tears just starting to burgeon in your eyes. His hand comes up to brush your temple, following the curve of your jaw that is clenched in thought. The touch of his hand seemingly melts all the tension there, almost like magic, and you feel yourself similarly melting—looking back at this man who loves you so deeply and definitively.

Because you would love nothing more than for there to be more of him in the world.

“So, when are we gonna start…seeing,” you asked with a shy smile. “Right now?”

Eddie’s eyes widened, the corners of his mouth twitching he was trying so hard not to break out in a stupid-big, beaming smile.

“Maybe not just yet,” he said, the mirth in his voice shining through.

“No?” you ask, your brows lifting in surprise. “How long are we waiting, then?”

“Well, that all depends…” He ducked back down and returned to nuzzling your neck, lowering his voice to a husky murmur in your ear. “...on when you wanna get married.”

You let out breathy chuckles in between the quick, zealous kisses he began to drop on your skin, the ends of his hair tickling as they brushed the side of your face and fell across your chest.

“Ohh,” you laughed, reaching to lace your fingers with his. “Are you gonna marry me, then?”

Eddie pulled back once more and grinned down at you, the skin around his eyes crinkling his smile was so wide, his expression alight and filled with the purest form of mischief.

“Baby, I thought you’d never ask.”

prev┃

Standin’ on a hill in the mountain of dreams, tellin’ myself it’s not as hard, hard, hard as it seems…

[jumexju]

SHAPE OF MY HEART

Pairing !! : Uchiha Madara / Fem Reader

Fic Type !! : Oneshot / Angst to Fluff / Hurt-Comfort

CW !! : Established relationship, Reader is a mother, Suggestive near the end but nothing 18+

Summary !! : After an argument due to Madara's inability to communicate, you try to prepare yourself for him to leave you ー only to find he's not leaving you.

Note !! : This man singlehandedly compelled me to write a 3k+ word fic, I might make this into a series tbh..

✦ MASTERLIST

‘I wish you’d try to communicate with me instead of just telling me not to worry!’ 

You winced as you recalled your words, the blanket over your frame failing to provide the comfort you needed. 

‘Not just for me, but for your children! They need you and you’re always gone — I know you’re busy but the least you could do is tell me what’s going on!’ 

The moonlight slipped in through the open door of the genkan. Madara hadn’t come home. In fact, your husband hadn’t been home for the last three nights in a row. He’s done this before — take some time for himself after an argument — but he’d usually never let you go to bed feeling anxious or worried. No, usually, Madara would force you to acknowledge his presence — even if you were mad. Sighing, you buried  your face into one of his shirts in an attempt to comfort yourself in the absence of the man you loved so much. You let another hour pass by before accepting that he wasn’t returning tonight either and choosing to try to get some sleep. 

The sun was the first to greet you when morning came. Its rays bathed everything it touched in its warmth — but it wasn’t comparable to the warmth you had grown attached to. Madara’s warmth was all you wanted, but you had to realize that he wasn’t your entire world anymore, not with your children now in the picture. You had to be strong if Madara was going to be gone for a long time — Sure, it was only four nights that he hadn’t been back home, but you’d be damned if you let his absence affect your kids in any way. “It’s not the end of the world,” you told yourself in an attempt to lift your spirits, a determined look on your face as you cleaned up the kitchen and prepared to make breakfast. 

“What isn’t?” Your eldest, Mahaira, rubbed the sleep from his eyes as he walked into the kitchen. 

You froze, turning around and smiling nervously as you put your hands up in defense, “Nothing ! I just realized that we don’t have any pork,”

Mahaira narrowed his eyes at you before yawning and greeting you with a hug, “Do you want me to go buy some later?” he offered, his voice sounding sleepy since he wasn’t really a morning person — Just one more thing he had in common with his father. 

“You’re always so helpful,” You squeezed the boy tightly, a bright smile on your face. “But no, you have some studying to do after school today. Your teacher tells me you’ve been skipping class.” You looked down at the thirteen year old, your eyebrow lifted as you saw his guilty expression. 

Mahaira frowned, “You found out?!” 

You smacked his shoulder playfully and crossed your arms with a smirk on your face, “Of course I did, I’m your mother — I find out everything, eventually.” 

Mahaira held his head down in defeat, “.. Are you going to tell dad?” He asked you, worried eyes peering up at you pleadingly. You only chuckled and ruffled his spiky black hair, out of all your kids, Mahaira was the one who resembled Madara the most. But of course, Uchiha genes were nothing to laugh at — They were strong as all hell, so it was no surprise that all your children looked like their father in one way or another.

“No — Not if you catch up on your studying, I won’t.” Mahaira’s face lit up, your heart warming at the sight of it. It was like seeing a mini Madara right in front of you. 

“Speaking of dad, where is he?” Mahaira looked around, realizing he hadn’t seen him as of late. 

You frowned, “.... He’s busy.” you looked away from your son, not wanting to face him. 

However, it seemed that he inherited his fathers sharp intuition. Mahaira’s black eyes narrowed at you before widening in realization. “He still hasn’t come home?? Jeez mom.. You should both just kiss and make up already.” Mahaira shook his head in faux disapproval, even crossing his arms to take it further. 

“Kiss and wha-!? Mahaira!” You stared at your son in surprise, heat rushing to your face. “Nevermind that, go wake up your sisters.. !” Mahaira snickered at your embarrassed expression and walked away to his sisters’ room smugly. You turned your attention back to the counter and cracked the eggs you’d brought out beforehand, whisked them in a bowl and poured them over the pan. Truthfully, you’d missed Madara. He’d always wake up before you, but he’d pretend to be asleep when you woke up just so he could feel your hands thread through his hair. Whenever you were cooking, he’d come up behind you and encase you in his arms.. Even if they were small actions, the fact that they came from him was all that mattered. 

You, like Madara, grew up in an era where you weren’t even sure you’d see your children unplagued by the stresses of war. Now, you even got to see your kids all in one piece, together. All thanks to him.. Slowly, you found your mind trying to go back to thinking about your husband — But how were you to stop it? He was your husband, the father of your children.. How could you not think about him when he was away? It was an almost impossible task. But you knew you had to go on and wait for him, like you always did. After eating omelets with your kids, you sent Mahaira off to school. His two sisters, Mizuna and Mitsumi, would have to stay with you since they were still too young to go to the academy. If they were anything like their older brother, they’d be a handful once they got older. But you didn’t mind, as long as they grew up to be fine, respectable people. 

“Mama, what are you making tonight?” Mizuna looked up at you as you held her and her twin sister by the hand while the three of you walked around the market, a bright smile on their faces. 

“Mm.. I was thinking of pork cutlet,” you looked down at the twins, Mizuna’s eyes lighting up as she thought about the savory meal while she looked at the rows of different oils and spices on display. “We just need to get the pork and some oil and we’ll be set, okay?” The twins nodded and stood near the stall while they waited for you to pay for the oil, or at least, they tried to stay near you. However, when they saw the unmistakable mane of long black hair that so obviously belonged to their father, they couldn’t stay still. 

“Papa!” The girls called out before running to their father despite the very obvious guilt shown through your expression. Madara’s eyes widened in surprise as he laid his eyes upon you — but only for a short moment before he leaned down and picked up his 6 year old child, perching Mizuna up on his shoulders. His gloved hands rubbed Mitsumi’s back in acknowledgement as she hugged him. You looked away before he could see the pained look on your face and thanked the seller before begrudgingly walking over to the man who’d been occupying your mind for the past week. Mitsumi looked up at you and raised her arms up, her way of signaling for you to pick her up. You smiled and did as she asked, securing her on your hip before facing your husband. 

“...” 

“...” 

“Papa,” Madara glanced at Mitsumi, “Mama said she was gonna make pork cutlet today!” Mitsumi smiled brightly at her father, you could tell that she had missed Madara as much as you had when you saw her face. Madara looked back at you, despite how things were between the two of you, heat still rushed up to your face when his eyes met yours. 

“Is that so?” He sounded interested, but maybe that was because he was talking to his daughter and he wanted to hide the way that things were between the two of you. You only nodded in response. 

“.. Will you be home for dinner?” you asked the Uchiha as you tried to avoid his oh so beautiful eyes by fixing a piece of Mitsumi’s hair behind her ear. 

“Mm.” Madara was observant as ever. Unfortunately for you, he saw the guilt on your face no matter how much you tried to hide it. Madara wished to extinguish such anxiety from your features, but he knew it was probably due to his absence that you even felt that way. It was his fault for disappearing, no, avoiding you for five days in a row — almost a whole week. If you had been looking at him for a bit longer, maybe you would have seen how his gaze softened when he first saw you. “Yes, .. I’ll be home for dinner.” He told you, a small smile tugging at his lips. You looked up at him and you swear you could tear up just hearing those five words. Madara felt his heart warm at the sight of your relieved expression. It took you a while to snap back to reality and register that he was actually going to be home tonight. 

“O.. Oh.” You blinked, “Okay, then.. I should get going. You’re probably busy.” You bashfully looked away, putting Mitsumi back down so you could carry her sister after Madara had taken her off his shoulders and given her to you. 

Mizuna tugged at her father’s mantle, “Papa you better not be late..!” She warned. 

“Yeah! Mama gets really sad!” Mitsumi crossed her arms and looked at her father with determination. Madara blinked, he was surprised by this admission. 

You looked down at Mitsumi, embarrassed that Mitsumi just put you in a vulnerable position, “That’s not true- I do not get sad!” You tried to salvage your self-image, but unfortunately your efforts were in vain. 

“Do too!” Mizuna chimed in, determined to help her sister prove you wrong. 

“Do not!” 

“Do too!” They both said at the same time. You could feel your face getting hotter the more Madara witnessed this exchange. But it brought him nothing short of genuine happiness. You continued trying to win the argument with your children ( and failing ) until you heard Madara chuckle at the interaction. 

“Does mama really get sad when i’m not around, Mizuna?” He petted his daughter's hair as he asked this, as if to reward her for unknowingly giving this information away.

“Yes!” 

“No!” you objected. Madara only laughed some more — It was one of the things you’d missed hearing. If only you knew how much Madara missed you too. He didn’t know why he had been so reluctant to tell you that you were right, but he knew he didn’t want it to damage his marriage. He loved you too much to leave you, he hoped you knew that. You sighed in defeat and rubbed your neck, “You two are horrible liars.” 

“Lying is bad, Mama.” Mizuna shook her head in disapproval. 

“Yeah, Mama, lying is bad.” Madara repeated, smirking at your defeat. You stared at him unamused, “You better not be late.” You warned, trying to hide a smile before holding Mizuna’s hand. You were going to pick up the bag of groceries that you’d laid at your side before the whole interaction, but Madara took your hand in his — Forcing you to look him in the eye. He came close to you and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you waiting anymore.” 

“Mom? You seem awfully happy…… What happened?” Mahaira asked as he tied his hair up into a low ponytail and greeted you with a hug and a kiss on your cheek. 

You lifted a brow at your son, a sly smirk on your face, “Do I need a reason to be happy?” 

“You know that’s not what I meant..” Mahaira protested at your accusation. He could sense you were in better spirits than when he last saw you this morning. However, you only ruffled his hair and snickered. “Nothing happened, Mahaira. Go wash your hands, it’s almost time for dinner.” You sent him out of the kitchen before calling your twin daughters to help you set up the table. It was as soon as Mizuna had placed the last plate that you all heard a knock on the door, your heart beat only got faster. Mahaira walked down the hall and smiled once he saw his father walk through the door. “Dad! You’re here..!” It was as if Madara was a magnet of some sort because as soon as Mahaira said this, Mizuna and Mitsumi raced to the door. You heard a hard Thump! and rushed to see what had happened, chuckling once you had seen what took place. 

It was Madara on the floor, tackled by his two twin daughters who were eagerly hugging him. “The Great Madara Uchiha brought down by his own children? Now there’s a sight I never thought I’d see.” You snickered as you looked down at your husband who was now sitting up and holding Mizuna and Mitsumi at his sides. You offered a hand to help him up but yelped once he tugged you forward, causing you to land on top of him. “Hey-! Madara, you- Mmph!” You grunted as you fell on him. 

“If I go down, you go down with me.” He snickered as he gazed down at you. Your knees were on either side of his thighs, you were currently holding onto his shoulders so that you wouldn’t completely fall on him again. He couldn’t lie, he missed you being close to him. You always radiated a warmth he didn’t know he needed. 

“Is that so?” you lifted a brow at him, a smirk on your face as you giggled when he greeted you with a kiss on your forehead. You were going to kiss him before Mahaira spoke up and interrupted, 

“Get a room, you two!” Madara and you looked at each other before laughing at your son’s reaction, deciding to save that kiss for later. You got up off of your husband and offered him a hand to help him up. He followed behind you, a subtle smile on his face as he looked down at his hand in yours, he didn’t fail to notice a chip in the nail polish you wore — He was ever the observant man. During dinner, you two avoided talking about the elephant in the room so as to not give your kids anything to worry about — But you both knew that you had to talk sooner or later. For now, you’d enjoy having your family together once again. Seeing your kids’ interactions with their father just warmed your heart even more, you weren’t sure if you could handle him leaving — If that’s what he wanted to do. Though, you doubted that line of thought since he was actually here, since.. he wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t thinking about mending things with you.. Right? You thanked Mahaira for washing his plate and ruffled his hair before sending him off to bed, the twins following suit. 

“So..” You tried to begin the conversation, but what were you supposed to say? Madara came up next to you, drying the dishes you washed and putting them in their place. He seemed calm, but when wasn’t he? You rarely ever see him lose his composure now that the Uchiha and the Senju weren’t at war anymore. You tried to find the words, but there wasn’t anything you could really say. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You blinked a couple times before you turned to your husband. He was already looking at you. “You..” you were at a loss for words. He was sorry? But what for? 

“I’m sorry I didn’t come to talk to you sooner.” He clarified. “I needed some time.. To think about what you said-” 

“You’re not leaving me?” you interrupted him. He seemed confused at what you had said. 

“Leaving you? Why would I leave you?” He crossed his arms as he looked down at you in confusion. 

“Well- I thought that you were- uhm..” You felt incredibly stupid just now. 

Madara came close to you and cupped your cheek in his calloused hand, “I wouldn’t leave you over a small fight, _____.” 

You looked away, avoiding his stare. “You were gone for a week- I thought that you were planning to leave me..” you admitted quietly. Madara was frustrated that this was what his absence had led you to believe. Yes, it was a nasty fight that the two of you got into, but after being with you for fifteen years, he thought that you would know that he wouldn’t leave you over something as small as this. Without so much as a thought, he pulled you close and wrapped his arms around you. 

“You’re my wife, and the mother of my children. Don’t you ever think that I would leave you over a petty argument such as that.” He said it as if it was a demand, but he only meant to assure you that He would be with you until the end of time. He felt your hands grip his shirt, his heart breaking when he heard your uneven breathing. You pulled away a little to wipe your eyes, but he beat you to it, a fond smile on his face as he wiped your tears away with his thumb, “You were right about what you said.. I don’t want to miss out on their childhood — I want to be there for them, and for you.” He told you softly — A tone he rarely used with anyone else but you —  as he looked you in the eye. “I’ll try to be around more, okay?” 

You nodded before sheepishly glancing away from him, “I’m sorry for having yelled at you, by the way..” 

“It’s alright, I need that.” He admitted with a small smile, “You deserve to know what’s going on, I shouldn’t have made you worry.” 

You smiled as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “I understand that you find it hard to express yourself — But know that you can rely on me, okay? ..I love you.” You smiled warmly at him, you hated that he kept things to himself, but what else could you do but support him? If he needed someone to wait for him until he was ready, you sure as hell were going to do just that. 

“I’ll try to.” He assured you before placing a piece of your hair behind your ear. 

 “I missed you a lot y’know,” you told him as the both of you walked to your room, hand in hand. 

“I missed you as well,” He said with a small smile as he followed after you. “It was a little annoying in actuality, I couldn’t go a minute without thinking about you.” 

“How romantic,” You chuckled sarcastically before getting under the sheets. They felt softer now that Madara was with you — if that was even possible. He settled underneath the sheets with you, his arm coming around your figure, making it so that your head rested against his chest. You splayed your arm across his stomach, tracing the scar on his left side as you nuzzled into him. You finally had your husband back, ..he was finally here with you. Right as soon as you were getting comfortable with the position you were in, Madara turned so that he was facing you, kissing your forehead, then your cheeks, your nose, and finally your lips. You giggled at his sudden display of affection, “Jeez, did you really miss me that much?” you teased. 

He smirked, “I missed you a lot more actually,” he said before swiftly switching your positions so now you were underneath him, his hands intertwined with yours. You could feel the heat rushing to your face as you looked up at him, his black hair draping around the sides of his face. “Really?” You lifted a brow at him, a playful smirk on your face. 

“Of course,” he leaned down and adorned your neck in butterfly kisses. Madara was a rugged man, but he knew just how to make your heart melt. He planted kisses on your jaw before facing you once more.  “Care to make up for lost time?”

[lavandulawrites]

Caerulea

Yandere vampire Gojo x reader

This has been in my drafts since forever.

Synopsis: you see a peculiar man at a party and meet him again when you’re on your way home

Masterlist

Warnings: biting, drugging, lemme know if I’m missing something

Word count: 1561

Ice blue eyes had been following you around the entire evening. Their colour outstanding and alluring, as if they were able to cast a spell upon you that lured you in. They were eerie. The owner of said eyes was a tall man with hair as with a snow. His face was excruciating handsome to the point he looked otherworldly.

His lips twisted up into a playful smile. Revealing pearly white teeth. When he widened his smile as he chuckled, you could see his pointy canines. He winked and disappeared into the crowed. How he managed that was truly a mystery for a man his size.

The night was filled with laughter and horrible music. As the party started to near its end, you decided to venture home. You had only had two glasses to drink and you weren’t drunk. Which was something you probably would be grateful tomorrow morning. You had felt that it would be unwise to drink when you made eye contact with the white haired man. Why you weren’t sure, but you knew well enough to trust your gut.

The streets were empty save from some drunk business men and a couple of students. The asphalt was wet from the earlier rain making the light from the neon signs that adorned the many buildings, reflecting in the water like liquid gemstones. Tokyo really was a beautiful city. A taxi drove by causing water from the puddles to splash onto your clothing. You cursed after it in anger.

A gachapon machine caught your eye. You had been on the lookout for a new Sanrio keychain.

You inserted some coins and turned the wheel. Out popped a light pink plastic ball. You opened it with eagerness. My Melody. You smiled as you studied the little pink keychain.

The sound of footsteps snapped you out of your little trance. You turned around and you almost dropped your keychain at the sight of the white haired man. His pale eyes scanning your features. Emotions you couldn’t place swirled within his eyes.

“Cute keychain” his voice playful.

“Thank you” your voice low. Your eyes darted across the street. The man in front of you have you a bad feeling and you wanted nothing more than to leave.

As if noticing your discomfort he spoke. “I take it that you’re heading home?” he took a step closer. “So am i” his eyes almost hypnotising you in their endless blues.

You knew you should’ve just kept quiet and walked away, but something compelled you to answer him truthfully. “Yeah I am” you couldn’t avert your gaze form his.

His smile widened. “Want to walk together? It gets dangerous at night , you know” his grin sharp. “I am Gojo Satoru, but you can call me Satoru” he winked.

“Okay… I am [Name]” you forced a smile. He didn’t comment on you not sharing your last name, but his eyes narrowed slightly in disappointment.

“What a beautiful man” he hummed. His hand snaked around yours as he dragged you away from the gachapon machine. His hold on you tight.

You two walked down the street in silence. You had asked him how he knew to way to your home, but he only brushed you off. Your intuition told you to not question him further. His hold on your arm didn’t waver one bit.

The sky suddenly opened and rain poured down on the street. Satoru quickly dragged you underneath the roof of a bus shed. “My place isn’t too far away” his eyes flickered to your neck and then back up.

You hesitated. It was not wise to follow a stranger to his home and especially when he gave off such unnerving vibes. “I’m not too sure if I should…”

At your hesitation his eyes darkened. “Why not? You’ll get sick out here. Plus it’s only till the rain stops” he pulled you closer. Too close. You could feel his breath fan against your face.

You swallowed as you weighed your possibilities.

“Come oooon… I can make you some hot chocolate if you would like? I really pride myself with being the best hot chocolate maker I know” he chuckled. His blue eyes glinting with mischief.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his weird comment. “Hot chocolate does sound good…” you were quite cold even though it was summer. The rain that poured endless only made you shiver more.

You don’t know how he managed to fully convince you, but he did. His flat was a penthouse and huge. It was filled with different luxuries and beautiful paintings adorned the walls. The interior was a fine mixture of traditional Japanese design and dark classical style. In a way he had made it work, and beautifully so.

Satoru was busy making hot chocolate while you took in your surroundings. You hadn’t asked what his profession was and you wondered that maybe he was one of those who didn’t have to work.

“Here you go” his jovial voice snapped you out of your thoughts.

Satoru had made two cups with hot chocolate topped with cream and marshmallows. It smelled heavenly and you couldn’t help but sigh. “It looks so good!”

He chuckled as he clinked his mug against yours. You took a sip and your senses was overwhelmed by the delicious taste. It was truly the best hot chocolate you had ever had.

“Wow! This is amazing!” your tongue darted out to lick away the cream that had formed on your upper lips.

The white haired man chuckled at you excitement as he took a sip himself. “I am glad you liked it. As I said, I am truly the best hot chocolate maker” he winked playfully.

“Your flat is really nice” you waved your hand in the air.

His smile widened and your eyes caught what resembled sharp fangs. “Thank you. It’s one of my prized possessions” his voice melodic and his charm otherworldly.

Before you knew it your mug was empty and you were feeling rather sluggish. You and Satoru had talked about all and nothing and he was exceptionally easy to talk with.

Your eyes felt heavy and you leaned your head against your arm that rested on the kitchen table. Your back fell limp against the kitchen chair and the last you saw before your mind slipped into unconsciousness was the icy eyes of Satoru.

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of a cold breath fanning over your neck. You were met with the sight of snow white hair that tickled your cheek. Satoru. You suddenly snapped out of your haziness as you sat up in what you now noticed was his black couch.

He laughed softly against your neck. “You finally regained your senses, huh? Good. I want you to be awake” his voice deep.

You blinked in confusion at his words. “What is going on? What are you doing?” anxiety laced in your words.

Satoru slowly rose his head. His eyes boring into yours with a whirlpool of emotions. “You are so adorable when confused. Ya know when I saw you tonight, I had to use all my strength to hold back. It’s really dangerous going around and being so goddamn cute. So careless” he sighed with a lazy smile. His large hand gently cupped your cheek. His thumb ran over your slightly trembling lips.

“Sator-”

“Shushhhhh” he pressed his thumb hard on your lips.

With a blink of an eye he pinned you flat against the couch, his mouth hovering over you neck. Your heart was beating fast as you cried out.

“Don’t worry darling. I mean you no harm. If I did you wouldn’t have found yourself here. If anything I am more like your guardian angel” he smiled down at you with a gentle smile that almost made you forget everything.

You could hear him inhale which was accompanied by a sigh. “God you smell so good…” his voice a low groan.

“What are you doing?” your voice was weak with panic laced within each word. You were shivering as you tried to regain your strength.

“Something I have wanted to do for months” he chuckled slightly.

A sudden pain exploded your nerves as he dug his fanged teeth hard into your neck. You cried out as you tried to push him away. You could feel him sucking your blood from your wound. It was a feeling you had never experienced.

Gojo chuckled at your attempts of pushing him off. “There’s no way you would ever manage to push me off. Though I must say your attempts are rather cute” he said before he dove back in with his teeth.

He drank from you for what felt like an eternity. After a while he slowly pulled away. His icy eyes looked back at you with hooded lids as he wiped away the blood that coated his chin with the back of his hand. “You taste so much better than what I imagined” he sighed as he licked his lips.

A cold hand stroked your cheek in a soothing manner. “To think that I almost let somebody else have you… Now that would just be foolish” he tilted his head.

“I should just keep you here. For all eternity. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” his smile soft and his eyes filled with love that ran deeper than the deepest sea.