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8housevenus · 3 months ago

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chiron through the houses

hii, i'll be going over what chiron represents in each of the houses. chiron represents the area where we tend to struggle with the most, need to heal the most, and feel most hardship with. depending on how your chiron is aspected and where it is placed can entail this to you.

(also sorry for the inactivity life's crayz)

chiron in 1st - these people will deal with insecurities from a young age. usually something regarding their appearance and overall presentation. has poor self-esteem issues, body dysmorphia, inability to recognize their full potentials. people with chiron in the 1st house struggles with maintaining their power in their environments. they view themselves as their biggest enemy. can lead to them having envy towards others, feeling the need to work twice as hard, and feeling unnoticed or recognized for all the wrong things. they feel misrepresented and fear that everything they work for and accomplish means nothing if they cannot associate the energy to the body. they are very mindful, conscious; however they can be too overly aware that they begin to become delusional and biased to their own negative thinking. these people heal through helping others, as they've been with an internal battle towards themselves since youth. these people can sympathize easier with others and bring a comfortable energy, healing energy. unfortunately for them though, their biggest demise is their inability to recognize that their flaws are normal and they are beautiful mentally, spiritually, and physically once they overcome this burden.

chiron in 2nd - these people have a hard time finding their overall aesthetic, the things that they can attach themselves to, the way they can finally represent themselves. usually, they find themselves leeching off others to fit in. they might have grown up not having what other people around them had, which can make them jealous, or overtime become stingy with their belongings. these people switch their style often according to the fashion, and might have been bullied for things they wore, their home, or their expression. chiron in 2nd can have a habit of becoming very materialistic once the comparisons worsen. this placement can make for a very good work ethic; however it can lead to their demise trying to constantly be just like everyone else. their biggest fear is exclusion and missing out from the rest of the world. the way these people can heal from this is to accept their lifestyle as is, and not to shame their upbringing. as they get older it usually becomes less of a problem, but here and there it can lead to an "over-perfectionist" attitude which will leave tension for as long as they have this habit.

chiron in 3rd - these people will have a difficult time trying to vocalize their feelings, thoughts, and emotions. often feels invisible when voicing their opinions, invisible sometimes. they feel that they are silenced and ignored far too much. can make them feel depressed, lonely, or lack a social life. might also have a hard time concentrating on tasks, or always feeling hazy about unrelated things. there's so much that goes through these people's minds, but they never communicate it because they feel like they are going to be dismissed anyway. they have a passive communication style which can result to them feeling powerless often. these people need to learn how to advocate for themselves and stand up to express it. the challenging part for these people will be the lack of confidence, get yourself out there first and then become comfortable overtime, it can help tremendously. these people learn when it is too late for them, getting speech therapy, developing new bonds, can all help this person get over this fear of being dimmed.

chiron in 4th - the biggest struggle you will face will be with your family life. at home you feel restless, damaged, and traumatized. there's a lack of foundation or love from parents, siblings, relatives, where you have felt disconnected. could have dealt with abuse- physical, mental, emotional, and changed your perception of trust and made it hard for you to find comfort in your public life. your chiron might directly oppose your midheaven, which if that is the case you will probably deal with family members that paint you to be someone you're not, or can mess with your career and future negatively. these people feel a lack of security and worries of being abandoned or sends their love to all the wrong places. lots of emotional repression will keep these people in a burden. it is important for these people to realize that to break away from this chain they need to forgive and excel. accept the damage and be extremely careful of people who might take advantage of your emotional wellbeing. do not be easily swayed by false promises, or people who move fast with you, establish long and trust worthy connections to heal from your traumas.

chiron in 5th - you had a repressing childhood, this made you feel like an off-putting kid at times, felt that you never had a chance to shine, or your talents were dismissed by others. anytime you wanted to express all your desires, they made it seem like it was unattainable, and that your imagination was far too big for the things you could achieve. probably also villainized by parents who didn't understand your need for freedom and viewed it as rebellious. felt like others could have fun apart from you. felt detached from a young age from not being able to put all your energy into something that you were genuinely interested. made fun of for your confidence, or your expression. can also represent some childhood trauma from parents, even friends. you might have looked at other kids a lot and envied them for being more "popular" than you. as these people get older, chiron in 5th people will still deal with comments that they don't have what it takes to pursue their goals, or that they are given less chances than others. to heal from these things, chiron in 5th must let go of misconceptions others have on them and go for what their heart desires most. channel your confidence through your talents and let it speak for itself.

chiron in 6th - similar to chiron in 1st, these people can deal with body dysmorphia and self-image issues. however, their biggest struggle is their health overall. they may feel overly stressed, overly unfit, overly lazy, etc. they will have a tendency to over analyze the normal things they deal with. they are perfectionists, want everything to be exactly how they plan. if somethings don't go as planned, they fear that they aren't good enough and that they've ruined everything they have worked for. can have a bad outlook on eating, exercising, and working if they let their self-esteem issues become a burden. does not take criticism lightly even if it is constructive, doesn't like to be commented on regarding their routines and work ethics. they have great determination and ambition, but this can lead to an unhealthy burn out. they are their biggest critics, and they must succumb to realize that their patterns of overly repetitive behaviors need to be minimized. physical health is important, but so is your mental health. they tend to blur these two and forget that they must feel good inside to feel good outside. shift focus onto positive things about yourself, dramatic and good changes can com from it.

chiron in 7th - this doesn't necessarily mean these people have a hard time in relationships, but they feel unfulfilled when they are in one. they are committed and devoted, until they feel their partner has betrayed them in some way- it is easy for these people to feel betrayed. might deal with excessive legal issues- many tickets, court dates, divorces/marriages, documents, identity theft, list goes on. they hate feeling forced and shaped by others. they typically feel insecure that their partner doesn't appreciate them enough, and that they must change for them. they go through relationships like it's a bump in the road- not because they don't care, but because they genuinely feel their heart deserves to be in better hands than the ones that have dealt with it. this person can either be very slow or very fast in relationships. they prefer a slower relationship where there is mutual understanding and consistent appreciation. but once this is not reciprocated or balanced, chiron will seek out some other form of love and this can strain connections. they must learn to be fair and listen equally to their partners, avoid judgement right away and emphasize being graceful even through tough times of people doing them dirty.

chiron in 8th - has a hard time connecting to their shadow self. feels they have dealt with too much, that they would rather just leave it unacknowledged. however, it lingers to them everywhere they go actually. they read people and have hypersensitivity to settings. these people have a hard time processing change, life-death, anything transformative, this person fears the unknown. they fear that if they tap too deep into themselves that they will not like the things they find. sometimes it is hard for them to connect with others on a deep level because they are scared of intimacy, there's a struggle with filling their voids and go through all their dark times alone. they carry a weight of shame because they feel that it is somehow deserved for them to feel trapped into their darkness. the biggest thing these people need to realize is that fighting their inner-self makes a bad situation already worse. do not be afraid to discover yourself, restart if you have to, life is meant for you to go above and beyond for yourself and not just others. once you start listening to yourself, you can discern your negative emotional patterns and finally stop holding it in. many of your creative blockages come from simply holding back. stop resisting the new discoveries and embrace them.

chiron in 9th house - on a spiritual/religious level, you feel that you are choosing the wrong things for yourself. this usually stems from a lack of freedom. you might have been raised into a very religious household and held on to remnants of it as you got older, but never really questioned it until you grew up. can feel that you are sometimes stuck in the same place for too long, you rely on life carrying you instead of yourself. you stop prioritizing the role you play in YOUR life, and instead expect other things to come and save you. you find yourself living in "auto-pilot" a little too much. you only play it safe because it is all you know, do not be afraid to take risks and question everything. go to different locations, travel, study philosophies, religions, learn more. be abundant in your morals. sometimes you can feel that you are a bystander in your own life or that you keep yourself in this shadow because you haven't tapped into it yet. your biggest fear is not knowing, or seeming like an "air-head," as you get older this becomes less prevalent, as you have experienced much of life, however, do not be afraid to experience things because you can heal yourself and others while trying new things. make sure you are firm in everything you believe in.

chiron in 10th - these people can be ridiculed for their professions, or in their professions. workplace might feel toxic to you, usually chiron in 10th will experience these issues later on in life. feels that they cannot properly express themselves in the field they want or aren't sure of the field they want to go into. often, they can feel misguided by people in their lives swaying them to go after something that doesn't quite click with you. can lack immense confidence in starting their own business, developing work connections, or even working at all. they might overly work to compensate for other areas of their life which they struggle with. you might clash heads with people at your job, be perceived as uncertain or unwilling. you might feel that you stick out like a sore thumb amongst the others. you notice that you do a lot for less in return. biggest thing for these people to realize is they owe nobody nothing, keeping a clean attitude and a consistent drive is enough for them to be successful. as long as you maintain good spirit with others and don't allow room for petty gossip, your career and idolized life can be just how you like it. you must learn to let go of this vision of feeling less than your peers.

chiron in 11th - feels out of place, oftentimes does not "fit in" with the crowd and doesn't bother to. this can sometimes lead to an overly isolated personality. for the chiron in 11th, this can be unhealthy and lead to an avoidant mentality. probably dealt with many problems relating their bonds all throughout their lives, and eventually stopped caring to meet others expectation. felt like the odd one out, never felt that they shared the same morals or mindset as the people around them. usually keeps a very small circle and it is probably with creative partners like through their work life. bullied for being different, being more problem-solving than drown in misery kind, and not expressing themselves the same as their fellow peers. they have an ability to understand others who feel the same exact way, they love depth and relatability, however had a hard time finding this in others. loves to question norms, loves to feel accepted by people who also come with some damage. these people need people who can take them as they are and not question their differences. they felt shamed for this while they were younger, but as they get older, they realize it doesn't matter what others think. being different is your biggest lesson that you gradually had to accept, and once you have then you will feel less insecure to take on all your goals.

chiron in 12th - spiritually wounded, hard time with understanding what you are feeling. hard to make sense of why you feel the way you do sometimes, often leads to lash outs, breakdowns, insomnia, difficulty with the unknown as well. biggest fear is feeling uncertain with their instincts. bullied for their maturity or not meeting up to expectations people had on your when you were younger. often expecting you to know everything when you don't. experience severe withdrawals when facing pressure and hides behind facades to seem like it doesn't deeply affect them. often gullible to the words of others because their own words feel faint to them. feels incapable of their power, feels that they are not enough to hold judgement that is useful. fears of being alone, usually clings onto the company of others due to the hardship they face with being alone with their thoughts. has reoccurring nightmares, envisions things that aren't happening in real-time, feels that they are suffering on the inside to the point where it leaves them in depressive cycles. the most important thing for chiron in 12th to remember is that nobody is above or below them- in terms of your power it is always with you. just because you don't see it doesn't mean it doesn't exist. trust your judgements more-even if you are wrong. you lack experimenting with the little things sometimes, do not fall into an endless cycle of self-destruct, remember that you can make your fears work for you. figure out why you default-ly feel such a lack of security in the base of your mind. you are prone to stressing about things long before they happen, be present and collected.

thank u for reading, appreciate that you have made it this far. remember, that you are beautiful in your own skin and everything about you is completely fine the way it is. if these haven't applied to you then that is totally okay and i hope ease for these aspects of your life <3.

#astrology #astro notess #astro tumblr #astrology observations #chiron #chiron astrology

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ireneispunk · 9 months ago

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Saving your virtue

Jacaerys Velaryon x female reader smut

The reader is due to marry Jacaerys Velaryon, and after a long stay at Dragonstone with tension mounting each day, it finally boils over but not in the way you expected.

w.c: 4,105

c.w: SMUT 18+, starts fluffy with a lot of sexual tension, masturbation, reader and Jacaerys are inexperienced, use of Y/N

a.n: This idea literally came to me in a dream so it’s a bit of my own fan service oops. Reader is meant to be from a noble family in Westeros but I didn’t specify which so you can imagine whatever house you prefer!

Three weeks, 2 days and one morning. That is how long it has been since your arrival at Dragonstone, how long you have known Jacaerys Velaryon, and how long you have yearned for him. The journey was gruelling, but your father had boasted about the prosperity of the match, and your Mother about Queen Rhaenyra and Laenor Velaryon’s beauty the long ride here. It ate away inside of you, the thought of being married to someone you did not love or could ever grow to love. It was your duty as a Highborn woman to marry well and produce heirs. You spent the entire journey trying to picture Jacaerys, your father had met him once briefly many years ago, but it had been confirmed by your handmaids that he had grown to be a very handsome young man, but you did not know if this was an attempt to quell your nerves.

Your first meeting with Jacaerys and his family couldn’t have gone better, Jacaerys was more handsome than the stories could do justice, Rhaenyra and Daemon seemed impressed with you and your families unwavering loyalty to her status. It was now less than one week before your wedding ceremony to Jacaerys. It was planned to be a celebration of a lifetime in order to show the strong bond between the two houses.

You reminisced on the first time you spoke to Jacaerys alone. Being you were not yet wed, your parents protested you both being alone unchaperoned. After a week of being around your presence but not being able to fully indulge into it, Jacaerys couldn’t bare it anymore. ‘This is wrong’ he thought to himself as he paced quietly back and forth down the corridor leading towards your room. The disappointment of his mother, Daemon, your parents flashed through his mind but were quickly replaced with thoughts of you. You had consumed his mind and body ever since he laid eyes on you. He could not wait to be with you in every sense of the word: bask in your presence, your warm smile, feel his hands around your waist on dragonback. The more he thought about you the more impatient he became, he knew what his wedding night would entail and wanted more than anything to have that day arrive more promptly. As much as he wanted you in that way, a sinking feeling would always creep into his heart. Jacaerys wanted to know you. You were one of the most beautiful beings he had ever seen, but he craved nothing more than a conversation with you. To know you. Without the pressure of family or handmaidens watching your each move, eyebrow raise, change in tone. The brief and staged conversations you had both had before now were a glimpse of something more. He was desperate to know the woman he was due to marry.

You sat on the neatly engraved chair pulled up to the table in your room. The castles handmaidens had promised to return later on in the evening as you requested some time alone. You sighed, eyeing the soft and delicate details of the room. You continued to scribble your letter back home to your younger siblings. They weren’t arriving until the wedding. As the silence engulfed you, you focused on the loudness of the silence. The occasional harsh wind whipping against the coastline and traveling up to your window, the soft tide strolling into the shore. Your eyes focussed on the fireplace that centred your room, the way the wood curled and burnt under the might of the flame, the sharp crackling with an occasional pop. You were marrying into a family of dragons, yet you felt you knew your betrothed as much as you did before you left home. A quiet set of footsteps broke you out of your fiery trance, you eyed the heavy wooden door and heard them pass. Relieved you turned back to your letter only to hear the same footsteps walking the opposite directions, and again, and again? It was late, and this was a quiet side of Dragonstone. People only came here if they wished too. Frustrated at your handmaidens’ swift return, you plopped your quill into the ink well and rose from your chair, making haste towards the door. “I apologise girls, I still require more time to-“ you swung open the door, already speaking in a tone with slight annoyance before coming face to face with your future husband. Your heart dropped to your stomach, Jacaerys was here, outside your chambers. You inhaled sharply “Your grace, I apologise. I thought you might’ve been the handmaidens. They are ever persistent, and I am not yet used to it.” You smiled with a small curtsey and drop of your head, trying to recover the situation. Jacaerys seemed to be a shocked as you were at the door opening, his mouth opened and closed with no words escaping his lips. “Was there something you need your grace? it’s getting awfully late.” You say almost a whisper, eyes laden with concern darting from his to down the hallway. He blinked away any surprise he had, looked towards his feet, before taking a step closer to you. Jacaerys was still feet away from you yet this was still the closest you both had yet been. His dark eyes locked into yours before he said “My lady, I do not wish to speak out of turn, but I feel it is within our best interests to know each other. I mean really know each other before we marry. You are to be my wife in less than a week yet there’s so much I wish to know.” His eyes gazed into yours, searching for an answer and longing for it to be yes. You could not help the large smile that spread across your face, this was everything you had hoped for. You glanced down each end of the hallway before stepping back into your chambers and holding the door open before gesturing him to come in with your hand. Jacaerys swallowed – he did not plan for the scenario in which you agreed. Your quietly shut the door behind you before walking over to the small, padded bench that sat under the window at the end of your room. Sitting down you patted the cushion next to you, “Please sit your grace, I would love to get to know you better.” He walked over and sat as far away from you on the bench as possible and sat stiff as if this were a stone monument. He turned to look at you, relaxing slightly when he met your eyes. “Jacaerys. We are to be married, just Jacaerys is fine.” He says as if revealing a heavy burden. “When we are alone that is.” He nods his head slightly, almost telling himself this, not just you. “Y/N, please call me Y/N.” You said with confidence. Jacaerys repeated your name back to you, finally feeling as if he’d met you. This was the girl who was to be his, his wife Y/N, not just Lady L/N.

Since the first night you had spoken alone, you both had the same routine. Jacaerys would wait until your parents retired to their chambers, and you would insist to the handmaidens that you did not require help getting ready for bed and would allow your hot bath to become tepid whilst you and Jacaerys spoke. Each night you both pushed the boundaries of what was acceptable, with the previous night beginning with the two of you sitting on your bed to talk and ending with a tight hug with Jacaerys’ large hand on the back of your head and one on the small of your back. Tonight, however, was different. After spending a particularly long day in a new and rather uncomfortable corset that you just could not unknot yourself, you allowed the handmaidens to undress you, but still protested as they attempted to brush your hair. You thanked them but ushered them out. You eyed the sunset. It was still a time before Jacaerys would be here. The smell of sweet florals danced around the room. You faced the steel tub, heat shimmered off the surface enticing you in. As much as you loved talking to Jacaerys, you did miss a hot bath in the cold nights here. You sighed and slipped out of your chemise, hanging it over the end frame of your bed. Rose petals swirled around your form as your slowly sunk into the tub, feeling the hot water glide over your body and settle around your neck, lapping into your hair at any movement. Eyes slipping closed you relaxed into the warm waters.

A small knock snapped you out of your light slumber, eyes shooting to the window, completely dark outside. Jacaerys was here and you were in no way ready to see him. “Uh who is it?” You stutter naïvely. A couple of seconds of silence go by as you clamber out of the tub and reach for the soft embroidered towel on the vanity next to you. “It’s me.” Jacaerys says, barely above a whisper. “Just one moment!” You say, panic evident in your voice. You quickly slip your chemise back on before turning to see yourself in the mirror. This was no way to present yourself to his grace, hair wet and almost dripping, skin damp, only in your nightwear being the most unforgiveable factor. You looked towards your dress of the day and curled your lip at the corset. Shaking your head you sheepishly walked over to the door and opened it to reveal yourself. Jacaerys smiled and took a step forward before stopping in the hall to take in your appearance. His jaw went slack at the sight of you, he had admired your beauty so far but seeing you so unready had made him feel a way he never had before. His eyes fixated on your unkept hair, the way little droplets beaded off the strands and rolled down your exposed neck and clavicle. He eyed your shape, appreciating the way the well-lit hallway exposed the shape of your breasts before stealing even more intense stares at your waist and down to your hips. What felt like a fleeting second for him must’ve in fact been longer as he felt your hand grab onto his and pull him into your chambers and out of his trance.

“Jacaerys!” you exclaimed, “someone could have so easily seen you standing there for so long!” you closed the door softly and turned to face him. Jacaerys eyes were wide as you looked into them. You felt a wave of nervousness wash over you, had you disgraced yourself? Were you both not as close as you’d hoped? Or even worse was he disappointed in seeing more of you? Your thoughts raced as you wrapped your arms across your front and smile fading at his lack of response. Jacaerys immediately seemed to get a hold of himself once he noticed your usual grin around him replaced with a slight frown and lowered eyebrows. He abruptly stepped towards you causing you to instinctively step back with you back hitting the door. “I apologise, I did not expect to see you after you were ready to sleep, I was taken aback.” He said softly, fiddling with the cuff of his jacket. “In a good way I mean of course, you were just already so beautiful as you are when I regularly see you. Seeing you in your most unaltered form reminded me that I must thank the Gods every night that you are to be mine.” His declaration sent a shiver down your spine and a heat grew in your stomach that only ever did with Jacaerys on your nights alone. He stepped even closer if that was possible and reached his hand up towards your face, a short breath hitched in your throat as his fingers graced your shoulder before retrieving a red petal that remained in your hair. You smiled and broke out a small giggle, “I might have closed my eyes for a moment or two in the bath, I still wanted to see you.” You confessed. He smiled before staring into your eyes as if they were the most intriguing thing he had ever come across. You never felt observed or stalked when he did this but seen and valued as much as any gem in the realm in that moment. “Shall we sit?” You say and gesture to the bed, being so close to someone you felt barred from touching was almost painful. Jacaerys cleared his throat before making his way over to the end of your bed, allowing you to sit at the top with the pillows behind you.

Conversation rolled forward but neither of you could deny the tension that had returned to the room. It was not a nervousness like the first night, but an undeniable hunger that panged within you both. As a story from your home concluded and left you both laughing, Jacaerys went quiet. “Can I try something, Y/N.” You wondered what he could be thinking and nodded before whispering a ‘yes’. He inhaled before leaning forward towards you, tentatively placed a hand on your cheek and leaned in towards your lips. Your eyes fluttered shut as you felt his soft lips touch yours but just as quickly as they touched, he pulled back slightly. Hungry for more you placed your hand at the nape of his neck and pulled him back for a longer kiss. Your lips moved together in sync, tentative but ridden with passion. As you melted into the kiss you slowly laid back onto the large pillows behind you. Jacaerys followed you down, never breaking the kiss, and moved one hand to your waist and the other to hold himself up beside your head on the pillow. The kiss grew hungrier and sloppier as you placed one hand upon his on your side and the other returned to the back of his head pulling him into you deeper. You let out a small gasp at the feeling of his body against yours and sighed as his hand slid up your side. You were completely engulfed in him; you didn’t realise how much you wanted his touch until you got it. He pulled away slightly from the kiss, taking a deep breath in to sigh. He rested his forehead against yours, lips brushing slightly against yours. “I cannot, I must stop. I cannot thieve your honour.” He said, more so trying to convince himself instead of you. You felt his weight shift and he placed a small kiss to your forehead before laying down beside you in a huff. Your insides burned for him, wanted him, no, needed him in a vicious way. You turned to face him, “Jacaerys,” you whined, “I will be fully yours in mere days, why can I not have you now too.” You say almost begging him. He swallowed before facing you. “I crave every inch of you, everything about you pulls me further into a place I won’t be able to climb out of. It isn’t right. Your virtue may be mine to take soon but for now it is yours to keep, we must save it for when we are married.” Your entire body ached in ways you didn’t know it could. You thought of protesting, but Jacaerys is his mother’s son. Once he has decided something it will be. You nodded, feeling your chest rise and fall more steadily. You stole one more kiss against his lips before laying as close to him as you could with a hand across his chest.

‘Five days’, you though. Five days would not be long in any other circumstance, but right now, waiting that long to be touched by Jacaerys felt like torture. As you realised the wetness that had grown between your thighs you had an idea. You turned your head up to look at Jacaerys, his eyes were screwed shut and his mind racing. “You wish to save my virtue, at the cost of leaving your future wife with certain frustrations.” You say with a sweet smile. His eyes open and he scans your face looking for any indication on where you are leading him. Jacaerys half nods his head, not sure on what the correct answer is. “There is a way, we can save my virtue, but still enjoy each other’s company, so to speak.” You say sitting up slightly so he can admire your full form. His face stays slightly confused, brows furrowed, eyes occasionally stealing a look at the thin fabric covering your breasts. Sensing his confusion you continue, “You know, when you’re alone, late at night in your own chambers, longing for someone to touch you.” His eyes widened at your explanation, and he placed a hand over yours that lay on his chest. “Well, it could be just like that between you and me right now, we get to appreciate each other but still protect my virtue.” You explain, looking up at him from beneath your eyelashes, internally begging he’d agree to at least this. The turmoil behind his eyes was evident. He was torn between what was supposed to be right and what felt right.

Instead of a verbal response he leaned up to kiss you once more, just as desperate as before. Feeling a sudden sense of urgency, he started undoing the buttons on his jacket without ever breaking the kiss before tossing it onto the floor. The thin white shirt covered his torso, and you trailed your hands down his chest towards the tie of his trousers before resting on top of his very apparent bulge. He swiftly grabbed your wrist and moved you hand away with a sharp inhale. Worried, you looked into his eyes before he stated, “I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if you touched me.” he looked defeated and utterly infatuated with you. You nodded, accepting his boundary before sitting back on your knees, he used his free hand to place on the inside of your knee and motioned to move your thighs apart. Just the sensation of his fingertips on your leg sent burning waves throughout your body. With his other hand holding your wrist he guided your hand between your thighs towards your pussy. You lightly rubbed from your clit to your slit opening and massaged your folds as you watched himself undo his trousers at a painfully slow pace before he pulled them down slightly revealing the cock you had blushed at imagining when alone. It slapped against his stomach, red with desire and leaking a few beads of precum. It was large in a satisfying way that made your pussy clench around nothing. You intently fought the urge to touch him. A soft moan fell from your lips as you began to touch yourself faster at the sight of Jacaerys taking his cock into his hand and slowly running his hand up and down the length. He seemed shocked by your moan, like he had never heard a noise so sweet before. A rather large moan escaped your lips before a flash of panic glazed over Jacaerys’ eyes. With his free hand he guided the back of your head towards his face and enveloped you into yet another desperate kiss, this more needy than the rest. Your lips moved quickly against each other as your fingers moved in short, tight circles across your clit causing a number of moans to stifle the kiss. You broke the kiss, needing to bite your lip, and rested your forehead against his. Jacaerys panted and moaned slightly with each stroke of his cock. His free fingers brushed against your cheek before curling into your hair. The feeling made your core tighten, a desperate ‘Jacaerys’ ridden moan fell from your mouth resulted in a harsh groan from the man beneath you.

��Let me see you,” He said gruffly, “I want to see you when you reach your peak.” Jacaerys was assertive in a voice that came from pure desperation. You nodded before sitting back on your knees and leaning further back so could appreciate all of you. Jacaerys sat up further in the bed leaning back into the cushions pumping his cock quicker at this new sight of you. He occasionally threw his head back in pleasure after taking in the sight of you. Your fingers switching from delving into your pussy and circling your clit, your mouth slightly agape and littering moans around the room, the way your chemise was almost see through letting him see the peaks of your breasts and hardened nipples poking the thin cotton. You were a sight he never wanted to forget. You, right here and now, completely coming undone before him is what he wanted to see every night. “I-I’m so close I cannot hold on anymore Jacaerys.” Your declaration was laden with moans and gasps, yet it affected Jacaerys all the same. “Finish for me, I need to see you, I- show me Y/N.” Jacaerys grunted through his words and that was the only encouragement you needed to allow yourself to topple over the edge. You worked your middle and third finger into your pussy, eyeing Jacaerys’ movement up and down his cock and matching the fast pace, picturing his cock filling you up. You looked up to Jacaerys’ eyes to see them already on your face, watching you. The eye contact was enough to feel the coil inside of you tighten with each thrust of your fingers before it snapped sending a shattering orgasm over your body. A flurry of moans left your lips along with repeating Jacaerys’ name like he might forget it. Jacaerys could not hold out any longer and moaned your name as he finished, white cum leaking from his big cock. A few final slow strokes left him sighing with satisfaction as his head dropped back into the pillows.

You lay on your back, completely spent feeling a wave of tiredness wash over you. The bed dipped beside you as Jacaerys joined you at the end of the bed, grabbing the towel you had hastily flung onto the footboard before. He gently patted the towel against your wet thighs and the wet patch that had formed underneath you before cleaning his stomach off and dropping the towel by the bath. He lay beside you and you rolled onto your side and let your back face him as he pulled you into his grasp. “I wish you could stay, Jacaerys. That was what I was desperate for, but falling asleep in your arms is what I need.” You sigh half solemn. He places long kisses on your back and nape, tickling you slightly. “Four days, then you will be my wife and I will never leave this bed ever again if you so command it.” He said jokingly, but you know you could get him to live in a bed with you if you asked sweetly. Every time your eyes shut, they closed for even longer and Jacaerys noticed. “Y/N,” he whispered. “I must return to my own room before morning.” You sat up slightly and yawned before nodding. Jacaerys collected his jacked off of the floor and walked round to your side of the bed and held out his hand. You took your hand in his and pulled yourself up off of the bed and let him lead you to the door. He opened it a crack and peaked out in both directions before opening the door fully and turning back to you. “I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.” He smiled playfully. You squeezed his hand and placed a small kiss on his lips. You wanted to savour Jacaerys before he was back to being 'your grace'. He tucked a rogue strand of hair behind your ear, “Beautiful.” He whispered, letting his thumb linger on your cheek. You blushed under his tenderness and affection. “Goodnight my Y/N.” he said returning his hands to his sides. “Goodnight Jacaerys.” You said smiling at him, your heart feeling full. You both stole final glances at each other before he rounded the corner into the rest of the castle. You shut the door and sighed, glancing over the strewn bed reminiscing on the events of the night. You blew out the candle on the table beside your bed and snuggled into the sheets. The pillows and blankets still lingered with the smell of Jacaerys. You couldn’t wait to be his wife.

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notjustjavierpena · 4 months ago

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Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia: Chapter I

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Here it is. I have been working hard on this chapter for you, plotting out the little details that will hopefully connect beautifully with the coming chapters. I hope you like my take on Marcus Acacius, and I hope you will be patient and follow along ❤️💖 I hope you enjoy the effort I’ve put into making this somewhat historically accurate!

Chapter Summary: In which you meet your future husband, get a warning from an old friend and explore pleasure on your own - all the while tension grows in Rome.

Pairing: General Marcus Acacius x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Chapter warnings: +18, arranged marriage, historical sexism, probably historical inaccuracies, large age gap, reference to marital SA but no actual SA, religion in the form of Roman Gods, talk about virginity, intense kissing, f!masturbation involving shame and guilt.

Word count: 7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57443332/chapters/146141770

Chapter I: In these tumultuous times

You step through the atrium with a pulse that might break your ribs, too nervous to enjoy the marvel of the glorious marble construction that envelops you in near gold-speckled white. Neither can you fascinate yourself in the grandeur of the peristyle garden that you eventually find yourself in, green and luscious with well-tended plants that have no other purpose other than being beautiful - much like you.

The afternoon sun will come soon, casting a shadow over the rose bushes and the fountains which slow trickles of water are supposed to bring you peace but somehow just makes you dread this meeting even more. Any girl back home would deem the location romantic from the blooming red flowers but you feel no affection for the man you are to greet in less than an hour. Even if your mother claims that you eventually will.

You thank the Gods that your mother isn’t here with you, knowing that you would have had to suffer through hearing her complain about Sol moving just a bit too far across the sky in his golden chariot to let your gown shine the way it is supposed to. She has already spent several hours doing your hair since dawn, decorating each strand with violets from the grass patch close to the river that runs through your village. Symbolizing modesty and faithfulness, she had said.

It’s not like you are here alone though. Instead of being here with your mother, you are here with your father; a senator who, despite his well-earned respect in the confusing web of Roman politics, still finds ways to satisfy his greed for more power. In this case, it is giving away his daughter to General Marcus Acacius.

“This is good for us,” your father had said during your silent crying as he talked about your new life with importance, “It will secure our family's position in these tumultuous times.”

Times are indeed tumultuous and they are changing right before your eyes in the form of angry shouts in the streets, rotting fruit and vegetables at the town square market, and fewer outings amongst commoners. Rome, once a beacon of hope and stability, now teeters on the edge of a type of chaos that not even the previous emperor Commodus could imagine putting his empire through. The co-emperors’ insanity, greed, and vanity drain the empire’s coffers as they engage in petty conflicts that lead to war left and right. As a result, the population is left impoverished, the youngest of men are dying in battle and the women cry for their families all the while the very top - your family included - luxuriates in growing wealth. Such is war, your father has stressed.

“General Acacius is a man of influence,” your father had continued, his voice laced with conviction that you did not understand, “His alliance will protect us from the whims of those who oppose the emperors and their righteous campaigns.”

General Acacius is a man of great renown, co-emperors Geta and Caracella’s right-hand man, and with a sea of stories about his admirable exploits on the battlefield. Your father has somehow made the political move of his life by settling this deal, promising the great warrior a wife of exceptional beauty who he can do with as he pleases. Women never have a say in these things, so you simply smiled during dinners where your future was discussed in the same manner as when a farmer plans the sale of one of his cattle, listing the animal’s qualities like he would say them later to the buyer.

Whenever he finally let you in on the conversation, he would give you a stern smile and emphasize the importance of this arrangement because of the honor and security it would bring to your family to have such a man as your ally. However, where your father wanted you to think about your future husband’s victories, all you do think about is the fact that your future husband is a man in his fifties and you have barely surpassed your twentieth Summer in the mortal realm.

When the minutes tick by with excruciating slowness, you find a bench made of stone in the shade. You dust off your dress, tuck it close to your thighs, and sit down to steady your nervous breathing. The sun has made you unsteady, having beaten down on you - contrary to your mother’s worries - despite it being the last burning rays of the afternoon. You blame it on your overactive mind, the racing thoughts having gone straight to your heart and made your blood flow hot through you.

You lay a hand against your forehead, fighting off a sob as the nerves finally get the better of you. There’s no way you can ever see your reflection in the cold river again, smell the hyacinths that brush your ankles as you walk through them, or hear the laughter of children in the building next door unless the giggles are those of your own little ones.

You have been groomed for this, trained by your eager mother to be the perfect wife to a man you have never met. Your mother’s meticulous preparation is meant to ensure that you make a flawless first impression and are a suitable wife, but right now it does little to calm you because you know that this arrangement’s ultimate goal is for you to bear children that will be even more powerful than you and the General’s respective families.

Barely an adult and never been kissed, forced to be intimate by the General’s command that will surely come. You know well enough that there’s more to it than that, Cassius, a boy from the market, once having revealed in great detail what goes on between a man and his wife or even just a man and a woman. The future wedding night feels like an impending disaster, embarrassing for you with the way your mother has also dragged you aside to tell you horror stories of men taking what they want from their wives with little regard for their pain.

You gasp as a twig snaps close by, pulling you out of your trance to assess the situation. In front of you, you see him. General Marcus Acacius is standing no less than ten feet from you, his armor, a white plate body adorned with the design of two golden griffins, gleaming in the sunlight. He stands tall and imposing, his presence radiating with authority but when you spot him, his eyes make him seem incapable of the horrors that people attribute to married men. His hair, streaked with gray, frames a face marked by the years and experiences of a seasoned soldier. His eyes, sharp and assessing, bore into you as he waits for you to move.

You stare up at him for a second only to be seized by panic as you remember the routine you had been forced to practice with your mother. Quickly, you rise from your seat, dust off your dress, and lower your gaze respectfully.

“General Acacius, forgive me,” you say without finding his gaze.

You hear your name on his lips, surprised to hear that his voice is firm yet not unkind. It’s hard to suppress the shiver that wants to run down your spine, a tingling sensation at the small of your back as he speaks because you know what he will be doing to your body soon, “I’m pleased to finally meet you.”

You nod, letting out the rehearsed lines expertly, “The honor is mine and mine alone, General.”

“Look at me, my child,” you hear him command softly, getting a glimpse of what led him to become the man of power and grace that he is today because you follow through without thinking. You only imagine what he must be able to accomplish when his voice is rough and demanding. However, his eyes are softer still, a striking contrast to his profession where he has to consider each of his steps with deliberate and measured precision.

Marcus steps closer. You automatically take a step back, afraid that he might try and touch you already against your will. Nobody would know if he ravished you right here. He presses his mouth together in a thin line but he still somehow doesn’t look angry, instead just looks like he is analyzing the situation that he is in.

“Your father thought it best that I introduced myself without him or the servants’ eyes watching. I was surprised at his immediate confidence in me to be alone with his youngest daughter,” he says while you hug yourself to soothe your aching chest, holding on tightly as you beg someone to help you escape. He examines you long enough for you to believe he won’t strike to take what he might want. You feel guilty for thinking that he might have, knowing that it’s not the actions of an honorable leader.

“You are much younger than I expected,” he admits after a moment, a hint of weariness in his tone.

A tear slides down your stinging cheeks but you quickly brush it away and regain your composure enough to not start sobbing. The embarrassment of your single teardrop is evident on your face as warmth creeps up through the intricate twists and bends of your bloodstream, a dull pounding sounding in your ears.

“And you are a great man,” you reply in the most steady voice you can muster, “I hope to be a worthy wife to you.”

Marcus smiles, a small but genuine expression while he ignores your obvious distress. After all, this is not a matter in which women have a say. He sounds ever so confident in you, encouraging even, in a way you guess is to soothe your impending tears, “You will do well, I am sure.”

When you do not respond, he tries again. You must look like a scared little girl, desperately in need of being approached like a frightened animal and your heartbeat certainly imitates the one of a rabbit.

“I see you wear flowers in your hair,” he notes, finding the least threatening subject to discuss.

“Yes?” You furrow your brow, arms already falling down your sides. You link your fingers together in front of you.

“I made sure to have the gardener do extra work on each of the flowers in case you were interested in flora and fauna,” he elaborates, “Does the garden please you, Carissima?”

Carissima. The Latin word for dearest. He seems to be trying it out, collecting information from how you react to it, and making a move based on it. Your brows knit even further together but you use the opportunity to seem less scared and more relaxed after hearing it.

“It’s very beautiful, General. I shall be very fond of it in the future,” you say genuinely because, despite your ignorance of its charm right now, a rational part of you knows that it is gorgeous and enchanting. You will come to love it wholeheartedly.

“The birds that land in the trees here sing you awake in the early hours of the day,” he continues and mirrors you by also softening a little, looking around with a surprising fondness toward the gentle coos of the doves sitting on the rooftops, “If you are very lucky, you might hear a nightingale amongst the doves’ coos.”

“Nightingales are common back home,” you tell him with longing in your heart, closing your eyes for the briefest second but being able to see your backyard so clearly in that fleeting moment. Marcus senses it, shifting a bit on the spot with a concerned expression so you force a smile to let him know there’s no reason to worry about getting a sorrowful wife. You will cry tonight but you will be ready when he needs you to.

“So you know their song well,” he answers thoughtfully, “Good. I’m glad. It will remind you of home in these new surroundings. Will you let me show you the rest of the garden? Perhaps we can get to know each other a little before the weekend’s ceremony.”

He holds out his arm for you and you hesitate for just a moment before taking it, swallowing thickly at the feeling of how strong he is. His muscles flex gently underneath his bare skin, nicely soft wrapped around the muscles of his bicep when you expect everything about him to be rough and worn out by years of service to the empire. His smell envelops you, near-dizzying to you because you’ve never been in such close proximity to a man before and you don’t think you can imagine being any closer than this even though you have to soon. To think that you were nervous about him stepping close just minutes ago and now he is touching you and it feels… fine, not scary at all.

As he walks beside you, you can see the lines on his forehead when he speaks in concentration. He still looks good for his age, you find yourself thinking, blessed by the deities Venus and Apollo for his well-aged beauty and the golden radiance of his skin that reminds you of the sun. You notice his nose now that you see his profile, it curving in the way of Jupiter’s and making you swallow thickly at the power his mere appearance gives him.

Some things speak to the young girl in you too; his beard has patches, one formed in a heart shape that you would tell the girls in your village back home about if you could. To this, they would giggle delightedly like they were still the age of getting tutored.

Then there are his brown eyes, deep as the darkest of amber you have collected on the shorelines in your youth. They shine with sincerity, more than once filling yours with their honey glow as you walk together. You begin to see beyond the fearsome reputation and the sternness that he first approached you with. He speaks of the flowers surrounding you with surprising tenderness, admitting to the jasmine being his favorite, and of how he had the garden designed to remind him of his childhood home in the countryside.

You think that your responses seem trivial compared to the anecdotes that he is able to share but he seems to enjoy hearing tales about your childhood home. He nods in understanding and adds the words of someone well-reflected even if he is known for brutality when at war. You let down your guard, “We must have more in common than I initially thought, Gene—“

“Marcus,” he corrects when you come to a stop, “You may call me Marcus when we are alone.”

“Marcus,” you repeat. You look down briefly as warmth settles in your cheeks, your heartbeat speeding up in your chest because you realize he has led you to a small, secluded area of the grand peristyle garden. The sun is lower now, casting a warm, golden hue over the marble fountain before you. It is small yet majestic in its simplicity, surrounded by vines of ivy and jasmine. It seems to be his favorite spot on all of his owned property.

“What are we doing here? Are we supposed to be this hidden from everyone else?” Your grip loosens on his arm.

“Never mind that, Carissima…”

There’s that name again.

“Look, I know this isn’t the Trevi Fountain of Rome but I thought we could wish for Fortuna to bring us good luck and happiness together,” he reaches for his belt where a pouch hangs in a string that pulls it closed. He digs his thumb and index finger into it and digs out a coin, its front decorated with an engraved picture of a peacock’s feather; a symbol of Juno, the Goddess of marriage and childbirth.

He holds the coin between his fingers, the sunlight catching its glimmering surface, and offers it to you with a gentle expression that’s not quite a smile in case it might scare you off. You take it, feeling the weight of the moment settle in your palm. This is your future husband and he is trying, doing everything in his power not to unsettle you but invite you to give yourself to him in the next coming days.

The coin is mostly cool against your skin but still holds the tiniest amount of warmth from Marcus’ fingers, its edges smooth and worn from years of handling.

“This is a tradition,” Marcus explains, his voice carrying reverence, “We make a wish and toss the coin into the fountain. It is said that Fortuna, the Goddess of luck, grants blessings to those who seek her favor.”

You nod. This moment feels intimate, a quiet ritual shared between the two of you amidst the grandeur of the garden yet still hidden away from everyone else. This is a ritual of lovers, of people whose fates are closely entwined. You look at Marcus, meeting his warm brown eyes, and find reassurance in his steady gaze and slow secure breaths. You find it shameful that you believed him to be violent with you, that he would do anything with anger because he is, you realize, the type of man who doesn’t have to take anything by force when it comes to women. In that moment, it makes total sense to follow his wishes, but even more, it makes sense to wed him and go to bed with him.

“What should I wish for?” You ask softly.

Marcus dares a smile, “Whatever your heart desires. A wish for happiness, perhaps. Or for our future together to be filled with understanding and respect. Perhaps, in our own way, companionship and love.”

Together, you approach the edge of the fountain and you lean over it to gaze at the many glinting coins on the bottom. A violet falls from your hair and lands on the surface of the water, floating effortlessly with such strong symbolism that your stomach does a flip.

Marcus steps closer behind you and you turn to face him, the rim of the marble fountain digging into the back of your thighs until you nearly fall backward in an embarrassingly young fashion. Marcus takes you by the wrist to steady you but the touch doesn’t last long since you’re supposed to throw the coin over your shoulder.

With a flick of your wrist, you send the coin into the water behind you. The only thing you feel is the coldness on your skin where Marcus’ fingers were a moment ago, the slight breeze cooling down his leftover body heat quickly.

The coin hits the water with a splash. You swallow your nervousness to say something for the first time that isn’t the answer to a question from him, “May Fortuna smile upon us.”

“May she indeed,” Marcus agrees, pleased. He motions to a bench close by, “Shall we sit for a moment? Your feet must be tired.”

You agree, and he helps you to sit. Your hands touching sends a spike of energy through you before you are disappointed by him taking a seat beside you but maintaining a respectful distance. He takes his sword out of its place in his belt and rests it against the bench, getting comfortable with you.

“Marcus,” you say his name before you even realize what you want to ask of him.

“Yes?” He waits patiently for you to continue, nodding his head in acknowledgment.

When your request comes to mind, you are struck by the fear of ridicule but you shove it down in favor of letting yourself have this.

“I know this is most unusual to ask of you, but would you give me a kiss?” The second you have said it, panic makes you babble in his presence, “I know my duties as a wife, my mother has told me plenty, but I cannot bear the idea of the first show of affection between us to be in our chambers and with… with more to come.”

If you are not to burst into tears at the festivities after your union or even worse, when he takes you to bed, you need to get this out of the way. You only hope to be successful in your attempt, knowing it is not customary to follow through on such an ask. It hangs in the air for a moment, the garden seeming to hold its breath along with you. It all comes down to your future husband’s view of modesty.

Marcus watches you carefully with an expression that is a mixture of surprise and contemplation. He looks like he might say no at first, afraid that someone from his staff might spot you and start a rumor that deems you unworthy of this arrangement. It might be the sincerity and vulnerability in your request that convinces him and lets him take the risk.

“Very well, I understand your concern,” he nods with determination.

He shifts closer on the stone bench, his movements slow as if trying to put you at ease, as if approaching a deer in the forest and not wanting it to run. You can feel the warmth of his body next to yours as your thighs nearly touch, the scent of his skin filling your senses. It is leather, sandalwood… and something that is his own distinctive smell. Your heart races, your skin prickles underneath your gown, and heat spreads across your thighs.

It feels like you only blink for a second but when you open your eyes again, Marcus is closer, his face inches from yours. You can feel his uneven breaths mix with yours,

“Are you ready?” He asks in a whisper, his breath warm against your face and his eyes roaming over your features in case you want to stop.

Your voice has died in your throat, so you simply nod your head. Marcus swallows thickly while you are lost in the fact that you can count his eyelashes right now. He leans in, his lips brushing against yours with care and apprehension that takes you by surprise. The kiss is soft and restrained as if he is giving you the chance to pull away if you want to.

But you don’t. Instead, you lean into the kiss when you’ve gotten used to the scratch of his beard, your hands resting lightly on his shoulders and moving inwards towards his neck, sliding under the collar of his cape. His lips are warm and you feel a shiver run down your spine at a sort of contact you have never felt before. You wonder what he thinks of you, if your passion even in your inexperience is worth his time to broaden your horizon… but any doubt vanishes as the kiss deepens slightly, Marcus’ hand coming up from where it rests on the stone to lay on the small of your back, pulling you closer.

A tiny noise leaves you and something stirs in the pit of your stomach. You can feel the strength in his arm as he has it wrapped around you but there is no force or demand in his touch. Instead, there is a sense of him handing control over to you.

An instinct tells you to get even closer, straddle him, do something, anything even if you are not sure what. One of your hands falls down to Marcus’ chest plate, his uneven breath evident in how it pushes against your palm like raging waves. Your hand travels further down until the tips of your fingers brush his belt.

It is only then that the General reacts, pulling back firmly but without hurting you. He creates some distance between you by pushing you gently away by the shoulders. The both of you are breathless. He shakes his head, “Carissima. That was not part of the deal.”

You are embarrassed by your actions, not sure if Cupid is playing tricks on you by blowing to the fires of forbidden desire that you were not even aware burned in your lower belly. Your body hums but you are mortified, “S-sorry, my legatus. I don’t know what came over me.”

You go back to general. It feels appropriate to use his proper title now. You have brought shame on yourself, might as well have let him take your maidenhead right here on the stone-cold bench and the worst part is that you are not sure if the fire in your loins would have fogged your brain enough to not stop him from doing it.

“Please, do not apologize,” he says to reassure, holding up a hand to stop you from protesting, “There is nothing wrong with what you feel. It is natural. But I want to honor my promise to your father, no matter the impulses that you give me. You are as beautiful as Venus herself. I shall enjoy our time together very much when it comes.”

“Thank you,” you say with a still trembling voice. The lump in your throat feels impossible to swallow.

“Now. Shall we continue our walk?” He suggests while getting up from his seat, his tone light as if to ease the tension. He offers you a gentle smile as he ties his sword to his belt again then reaches to take your hand.

You get up with a simple nod. He acts like nothing for the rest of the day.

—

You return home by carriage after dinner at Marcus’ estate. After a day with such complex emotions being explored, with how your new life seems less and less like a dream, and with how the sun hangs so low in the sky, you have already started to feel tiredness taking over your body.

You excuse yourself to your room not long after you return to the comfortable familiarity of your home, brattishly avoiding conversation with your mother about how everything went when she starts asking a million questions.

“I thought you might like to talk,” she says after you have gotten up from your seat in the living room, a few paces behind you as you make your way down the halls.

“Mother, I just want some rest,” you stress, bare feet patting across the floor. You hold your skirt up to walk faster, nearing your destination but not wanting to slam the door in her face, “I do not wish to talk about anything with anyone. Ask Father. I bet he’ll be eager.”

“Dearest,” she tries, “Don’t be cruel.”

“Please,” you beg as you turn around in the doorway, “It was fine. I’ll be fine, it’s just a huge transition from this life.”

“That’s why I wanted to—“

“No,” you say more firmly than intended but your overwhelmed state leaves you with little patience. You hope she understands, know that she might because her marriage to your father started the very same way, “I promise we can talk in the morning but I really need some time for myself right now.”

Your mother looks slightly hurt like she is watching her child slip through her fingers during her last night at home. You swallow thickly but hold your ground.

“Very well,” she says finally, eyes closing briefly to breathe through her nose. She forces a small smile and leans in to kiss your forehead, “Get some rest. We can talk tomorrow with this conversation forgotten.”

You offer the very same smile in return, then close the door behind you with a relieved sigh. You cross the room to the window, pushing open the shudders to overlook the buzzing garden.

Carefully, you start detangling the flowers from your hair and laying them on the window sill. A few of them are taken by the wind, some landing on the ground while others delicately fly through the air. You watch them until a gasp leaves you, two eyes belonging to a man staring at you from across the garden but you don’t feel frightened.

You sigh with annoyance as he steps out of the bushes and closer to the window, picking up one of the violets on his way, “You should not be here, Cassius.”

“I wanted to see you before tomorrow,” he admits with a little smile, boyish and inexperienced compared to the ones you have received from Marcus today. He places his hands on the window frame, about to crawl inside.

“Are you trying to get killed?” You whisper loudly and barricade the window, “You cannot be in here, don’t come in.”

“What if I never see you again?” Cassius huffs but doesn’t push it, “I just wanted to say congratulations on your union tomorrow.”

“We’ve known each other for years, Cass. Of course, I’ll see you again; you’re my oldest friend,” you say with exasperation but you know that it is naive of you to assume this is the way things work. Cassius grew up with a farmer for a father, living far away in the countryside where the houses are surrounded by fields of vegetables that they eat at the palace and a long way from the neighborhood that you have grown up in.

“Well, you can say it from outside my window,” you continue and tense up at a few footsteps outside your door. You hold your index finger in front of your lips, listening intently to see if they pass or stop in suspicion of who you are talking to.

A moment passes and the footsteps fade. You turn back to Cassius who now wears a troubled expression, eyebrows knitted together. You go a little softer, a little more quiet, “There’s more, isn’t there?”

Cassius hesitates just a second before speaking, “Your dear old dad has probably told you about this but things are changing around the outskirts of Rome. It’s growing more dangerous by the day to live out where I am. Geta and Caracalla’s combined ruling. They are not in their right mind and it is tearing the backbone of the empire apart. We’re angry and starving.”

You nod, narrowing your eyes at him. Your father has indeed talked about this during dinners in the past but always with no air of real concern and more with a scoff when mentioning the ungrateful people of Rome, their greed, their arrogance but mostly their lack of trust in their emperors who are right under the Gods.

“Why are you saying this?” You inquire impatiently.

“To ensure your safety in all of this when things break loose. You know how I feel about you,” Cassius looks down briefly. Yes, you know how he feels about you and while you have never reciprocated his love, you feel a tug in your heart about how he has waited for you for years with knowledge of how impossible your life together would be. A farm boy and the daughter of a senator? It is doomed from the very beginning.

“If things are as dangerous as you say then the General will be able to protect me, will he not?” You ask to push him away, make him let go of you.

“Marcus Acacius is a powerful man, but even he may not be able to navigate the storm that’s coming to the citadel,” Cassius places a hand on the window sill, the violets flying to all sides from the force. It’s his way of trying to get closer.

“And your solution is what? That I run away with you? Please,” you look down at his hand. This is not one of those moments where you realize your feelings after all this time, after years of childhood friendship, and run off together with the boy next door, so you let your hands fall down to your sides.

“Don’t marry him,” he suggests with pleading eyes, “I don’t want you with those people.”

You laugh in disbelief and turn your head away, “Cassius, by the Gods, you know that I have no say in that whatsoever. Besides, who says that I don’t want to be there with him?”

Cassius ignores the last part of your sentence bitterly, “Then just be careful, my friend. I know your father has power but I know he favors the emperors which will not benefit him in the coming future. Those caught in the middle often pay the highest price and you’ll soon be at the very top, exposed.”

You shake your head to brush him off but something is looming underneath Cassius’ words. They don’t sound as delusional as your father might think them and you poke fun to maybe earn a confession, “You sound like you’re going to storm the palace tomorrow.”

It is Cassius’ turn to laugh but the sound is hollow, “Tomorrow is your wedding day. I would never be so bold as to make you hate me. No, I have no plans to go so far.”

“What are you planning?” You narrow your eyes at him.

“Nothing right at this moment,” he replies quickly but unconvincingly. You can feel the tension in his voice and the strain on his jaw as he clenches it, “But I will do what I must if it comes to a point where I need to fight back.”

“You make it sound like I have the power to fix everything. I do not,” you say with frustration.

“Then at least change your heart,” he tries one last time, holding his hand out for you like he wants you to take it and crawl out the window, never to show your face here again.

You shake your head, “Cassius, you know our lives were never meant to intertwine like that. We come from different worlds.”

“But our hearts,” he whispers sorrowfully, “They’re from the same world. At least, mine has always belonged to you.”

“Cassius…”

“I understand,” he admits in defeat, “Marry him, have his children but stay out of the palace. I can’t stress that enough. Stay out of the palace.”

“You are speaking in tongues again, what does this mean? What do you know?” You stare at him.

Cassius steps back from the window, the distance between you growing both physically and emotionally. With a sad smile, he looks at you one last time. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Cassius,” you reply with furrowed brows.

With that, he turns back into the night, leaving you with a mind filled with questions. You watch as he disappears into the shadows of the garden.

You lean against the wall with a deep breath, heart heavy with uncertainty about who you thought you knew so well but you decide to ignore it completely to get some relief by rest. You will rather try to focus on the events of tomorrow as you start to undress down to your tunic, your thoughts swarming around Marcus instead of Cassius. The way that things are supposed to be.

Not long after, you lie down to sleep in your bedroom for the last time before moving into Marcus Acacius’ villa the next day. You should be feeling upset about leaving everything and everyone behind, nostalgic and melancholic even about Cassius, but all your mind does is replay the events that took place on the bench in the peristyle courtyard just half a day beforehand. It is so vivid that you cannot seem to rest, the images of Marcus’ beautiful, God-given eyes and mouth flashing on the inside of your eyelids whenever you try to fall asleep. The pictures are in such vibrant colors too, so intense that you resort to pressing the heels of your hands into your eyes. The colors smear and blur together until they look like painting instead but you have to stop due to the ache.

It doesn't matter anyway because it isn’t enough. Your vision isn’t the only one of your senses that he has taken as his own. The feel of his mouth lingers on yours, enough for you to let your fingertips trace over your bottom lip. It feels the same but then again, it doesn’t. Maybe he has left a mark on you that no one has dared to point out?

As well lingers a feeling of a spark that cannot be extinguished once it has been ignited. The sensation has you restless under the covers, the woven fabric scratching uncomfortably against your arms and legs until you have to throw them off.

It is a warm night tonight. The window shutters are still open to let in a night breeze that feels nice on your bare, burning, and untouched skin. You try to find sleep by listening to the usual chirping sound of the crickets but it is of no comfort this time. Marcus is still right there with you, his strong hand on your back and his eyes flickering down to your lips. In your head, he wants you and he lifts up your tunic to touch you where your pulse throbs and— By Jupiter, you need to calm yourself.

You open your eyes to stare up at the ceiling. Everyone has gone to bed, your parents, despite your protests, having come in and kissed you on the forehead while expressing how proud you have made them feel. Yet in the familiar surroundings of your childhood bedroom, everything feels foreign now that you’ve stepped into new territory of desire, unlocking something that separates you from what belongs to the mind of someone’s child. You don’t belong anymore in this room with walls that contain all of your childhood memories. You are grown now.

You should feel sorrow about this, about never coming back here but instead, your body buzzes like a hive of bees, tiny shivers of lust provided by Cupid flowing through you as teasingly as the softest butterfly wings flapping around inside you. It’s a forbidden feeling that stirs guilt in you but also a strange anticipation that has your hand slipping down your belly. Has your skin always been this soft?

You wonder if Marcus feels the same turmoil inside of himself, if he is lying awake just as you are right now and replaying the way your fingertips danced around his waistband but never got any further. The thought makes your hand slide down between your legs, reaching up under the hem of your tunic until your fingers slide over the wet skin there. You breathe deeply in through your nose.

You have done this a few times before but you’ve always gotten to a point where you have to stop yourself, afraid of what might happen when you feel yourself start to reach some sort of pinnacle that you are at a loss for words to describe. It’s natural, you remember Marcus saying about your body’s response. But doing it alone? Isn’t what you are feeling as you touch yourself reserved for your future husband? What would he say if he saw you explore yourself like this? Would he be disappointed in you? Or does he do it himself? Naked in his bed with his thigh muscles flexing as he feels what you are feeling right now? No, don’t think about him like that.

Your thighs fall out to the sides on their own accord. You find the spot that makes you gasp softly, the night way too quiet for you to be making such a noise when others are sleeping soundly. You tip your head back to open your throat, hoping it will make you quieter as you play with the sensation between your legs. Are the Gods watching you? Are they the only ones who can understand the complexities of your mortal longings? Can they tell you what will happen on the other side of this tightening in your gut?

Your breath quickens, shallow puffs of air coming out as you near the pinnacle quicker than ever. A noise close to the sound of a hurt animal escapes your lips and your fingers start to move in earnest, quickly back and forth over the little nub that you think is far too small to have such an effect on the rest of your body. How are you so soon covered in a sheen of sweat? How is your soul already teetering on ripping from your body, a mere vessel?

“Ah,” you moan a little louder, catching it in your throat by biting down on your lip. You feel the pleasurable buildup gradually increase in intensity and suddenly you’ve rolled around onto your front to grind your pelvis up and down on your fist.

Marcus. Marcusmarcusmarcusmar—

No. Clarity comes to you right before you lose it, fear too as it feels like your spirit might leave your body completely. You force yourself to stop your hips’ rapid movements against your hand, surprised at how quickly the sensation of something so unfathomable can ebb away from your grasp. It leaves both a physical and emotional ache. You pant against the bed, nearly creating a damp spot where your mouth rests against the linen.

You roll onto your back once more, wiping your slick fingertips on the sheets before pulling your tunic back into place around your thighs. You suddenly start to freeze, the air from outside your window starting to cool down the sweat on your skin.

It takes a few minutes for your heart rate to drop again. Tomorrow, you will marry Marcus Acacius and a new chapter will begin - a chapter where the tingling ache between your legs will belong to him - but for now, you let the fatigue of managing to hold off lull you to sleep.

You pull the covers up to your chin, feeling smaller like this but it doesn’t comfort you like it did when you were a mere child. You cannot stop the tears that spring to your eyes, starting as a tightening in your chest, a thick swallowing, only to come out in quiet sobs.

You feel the drops slide down your face, running freely down to the sides of your cheekbones and over your ears. Your hair dampens slightly, your nose grows stuffy and sensitive but despite all the telltale signs of your distress, there’s mainly relief as you let go to cry harder about your new life.

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

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bruisedboys · 10 months ago

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bc you asked for finnick thoughts: finnick x anxious!reader?

finnick odair x gn!reader

You wake with a pit in your chest. It’s wide open and jarring. A chasm of sorts right where your heart should be. It’s not an unfamiliar feeling, but that doesn’t make it any less awful.

You roll onto your side. Finnick’s still asleep. Actually, it looks as though he’s already been for his morning swim and back again, the pillow damp around his splash of golden curls. There’s sand on his bare back and a new shell on your bedside table. You must’ve slept in.

You watch him breathe for a few long moments, the expanse of his toned back rising and falling steadily. It helps, if only for a little while.

You get up, limbs heavier than lead, and take a long, hot shower. You shouldn’t have it this burning hot, and Finnick would have a fit if he knew, but it helps with the aching. By the time you get out Finnick’s up and out of bed. You pull on mismatched clothes and then venture into the kitchen to find him at the stove.

He smiles, bruising. “Hey, good morning, honey.”

He looks lovely like this, the sun streaming through the little window above the sink and kissing his tanned skin. You try to smile at him.

“Hey. What are you making?”

Finnick shrugs, “Just eggs. Did you want some toast, too?”

You don’t feel hungry at all. Actually, you feel a little nauseous. But maybe if you eat it will fill the chasm in your chest. “Yeah, okay.”

You sit at the kitchen table while Finnick finishes off your breakfast. You feel tired, like you haven’t slept, even though you’ve overslept. Your head swims with an ocean of thoughts that stream by so fast you can’t distinguish one from the other. Your chest stops feeling heavy and instead starts to ache like a bruise, so much that you start rubbing at it with the heel of your hand, a poor attempt to ease the discomfort that you desperately wish would go away.

You don’t realise you’re doing it until Finnick’s standing over you, setting a plate of food in front of you and taking your wrist in deft, gentle fingers.

“Hey.” His voice is soft and steady. He waits until you look up at him, your chin tilted upwards to accomodate for his height. He’s frowning as he takes your face in his free hand, fingers slipping underneath your jaw. “Not feeling good, hm?”

He works his fingers behind your ear carefully. His hands are warm. His rough fingers feel nice over your racing pulse.

“I feel weird,” you admit, disjointed and shaky, like you might cry. Or pass out. You’re not sure which.

Finnick hums. There’s an understanding in his pretty eyes that you feel slightly undeserving of. “Hey, that’s okay. C’mere, sweetheart.”

He wraps you in a solid hug, his arms heavy as they loop around your shoulders. One big hand squeezes at the nape of your neck, so firm it almost aches, but warm and loving enough that it melts away some of the invisible tension you’ve been holding since you woke up.

“Sorry,” you say into his shirt. He smells really good. Soft cotton and laundry soap, and under that, the ocean, crisp and salty.

Finnick sweeps his other hand up the expanse of your back and presses his mouth to the top of your head.

“Don’t, angel,” He murmurs into your hair. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

The chasm closes a little at the very edges. You cling to him tighter, fingers screwing into his shirt as you press the side of your face to his chest. He always runs warm but he feels warmer than ever now, a sort of buzzing, brewing heat. The warmth starts to seep from his chest to yours, and you welcome the feeling.

“Is there anything I can do?” Finnick asks over your head. One of his hands has drifted to your hair, gentle as he strokes the back of your head.

You loop your arms around his middle. “This is good,” you say quietly.

Finnick rubs your back with a diligent hand until you’re feeling better.

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mya-valentine · 1 month ago

Text

Headcanon: Katsuki Bakugou with a Chill, Nonchalant S/O

Katsuki Bakugou initially found his chill, nonchalant S/O completely infuriating. Their laid-back attitude was a stark contrast to his intensity, and it drove him crazy how they didn’t seem fazed by anything, even when he was going off about something. They’d just stare at him with a calm expression, making his temper flare even more.

Over time, though, Katsuki started to appreciate their calming presence. His S/O’s ability to stay cool under pressure helped ground him, especially during stressful situations. When he was feeling overwhelmed or irritated, they’d simply give him a pat on the shoulder or tell him to “chill out,” and somehow, it actually worked.

Katsuki secretly loves that his S/O doesn’t get caught up in drama or unnecessary fights. They have this quiet confidence that doesn’t need to prove anything, which makes him respect them even more. While he’s all about proving his strength, they have nothing to prove, and that balance brings peace into his life.

Their nonchalant attitude doesn’t mean they’re lazy, though—his S/O just goes about things in their own way, at their own pace. Katsuki finds it both frustrating and oddly impressive when they finish tasks with minimal effort, while he’s out there grinding. He’ll scoff, but deep down, he admires their efficiency.

Katsuki’s S/O has a knack for diffusing his temper. Whenever he starts to get worked up over something small, they’ll give him a raised eyebrow and calmly say something like, “Is it really worth getting that mad over?” Surprisingly, it makes him pause and reevaluate the situation.

Bakugou likes how they never try to control him or tell him what to do. His S/O just lets him be himself, while offering subtle nudges when necessary. They’re a calming force in his life, giving him space when he needs it, and silently supporting him when he’s under pressure.

He often finds himself seeking out their presence when he’s had a rough day, even if he won’t admit it. Just sitting in the same room with them, listening to them casually chat or do their own thing, helps him unwind in a way nothing else can.

Katsuki’s S/O doesn’t react to his outbursts the way others do, which makes him less likely to explode around them. They’ll just wait for him to finish his rant, then casually respond with something like, “You done?” or “Feel better now?” He finds it oddly comforting that they’re unshaken by his emotions.

In public, their contrasting personalities surprise people—his fiery, aggressive nature paired with their laid-back demeanor is unexpected, but it works. Katsuki might seem like the dominant one, but it’s his S/O’s quiet, unbothered strength that often leads to them getting their way.

Despite his pride, Katsuki feels a sense of relief knowing that his S/O can handle anything without panicking or losing their cool. Whether it’s a difficult mission or a personal issue, their nonchalant attitude helps him stay focused, and he trusts them to have his back without question.

When they’re alone, his S/O has a subtle way of getting him to relax. They might not say much, but their quiet presence is enough to ease his tension, whether it’s by lounging together in comfortable silence or them casually telling him, “You don’t always have to be on edge, you know.”

Masterlist

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou #bnha bakugou #bakugo #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki #mha bakugou #bnha bakugo x reader #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader

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kiss-me-cill-me · 11 months ago

Note

hello! 🤍 i love your writing, you’re very talented <3 if you are up to the idea, i’d like to request a professor!jonathan crane x student!reader fic 🫶🏻 maybe fluff that leads to smut? thank u ily

Hello, anon! You're my very first request ever; this is so exciting! First of all, thank you for being so nice ❤️ And second, I will certainly give it my best shot! I will say that I struggle to write a fluffy Crane, so this might not be exactly what you pictured but I did try to make him a little less... diabolical than I usually would haha. But either way, I hope you enjoy!

Stimulus Response Theory

Pairing: Professor!Jonathan Crane x Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: Your professor's lesson on classical conditioning leaves you feeling flustered and frustrated, and Crane knows there's only one way to relieve the tension.

Warnings: Smut, slight exhibitionism, power play dynamics, teasing, tickling, manipulation, semi-public sex, established student/teacher relationship

***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***

“Stimulus. Response. Theory.”

Dr. Crane’s words echoed through the lecture hall, and dozens of students bent to scribble in their notebooks or tap at their keyboards. You, on the other hand, sat in a chair at the front of the room, harsh light blaring into your eyes from the projector as you faced the rows of crowded seats. Crane stood beside you, and brandished something from his breast pocket.

“A very basic concept,” your professor continued. “Wherein there is a stimulus-”

He held up his hand, and you took note of the fluffy, red feather that was firmly pinched between his fingers.

“That, when presented to the subject-”

Crane brought his hand and the feather close to your face, tickling you just at the tip of your nose. You jumped and pulled away, letting out a small, strangled noise. Dr. Crane smiled, but made sure his expression was neutral before turning back to the rest of the class.

“Results in a response,” Crane finished.

He stepped behind you, and you felt your stomach drop, just a fraction of an inch. Not being able to see him made you nervous, but in a pleasant way that had you crossing your legs more than anything else. You shifted a little in the hard plastic seat.

“Stimulus response can explain many basic behaviors,” Crane lectured. “But it is also the basis for what Ivan Pavlov termed ‘classical conditioning’ - through which, a subject can be trained to elicit a response that is normally associated with one stimulus, in response to a second, unrelated trigger.”

A few of the students in the front rows nodded their heads. Everyone had heard of Pavlov, of course; he and his dogs were covered in every Intro to Psych class at every college everywhere. Gotham University was no different, and so most people in Dr. Crane’s class were familiar with the concept. Still, it never hurt to go over the fundamentals before diving into the deeper lesson. At least, that was the excuse Crane had used when he called you up to the front of the room, asking you to help demonstrate something to the class.

Crane stepped back into your field of view, and you looked obediently up at him. Just the sight of him was enough to make your heart pump a little bit faster. Unbeknownst to the rest of the students in the lecture, you had been sleeping with your professor since almost the beginning of the semester. Things had started out innocently enough; you had visited his office hours a few times, asking for help with a lesson at first. Then, quickly, you fell into the habit of stopping by even if you didn’t have a question. And finally, of course, you’d ended up with your lips pressed desperately against his and your shirt thrown carelessly into the corner of the room. Things had only continued from there.

“Classical conditioning is most effective when the response being elicited is one of natural reflex,” Crane explained to the class. “For Pavlov, this was dogs salivating at the sight and smell of their food. For our subject here-” he motioned to you, “brushing this feather against her skin causes her to reflexively flinch.”

He demonstrated again by trailing the red feather along your wrist, which did indeed cause you to jerk back your arm. A few snickers leaked out of the faceless crowd of students.

“Now, when the naturally evocative stimulus is repeatedly paired with a second stimulus, such as the sound of a bell, Pavlov discovered that the response could be ‘transferred’ to that secondary stimulus. So that, eventually, the sound of the bell alone will elicit the same response - even in the absence of the original stimulus. For example…”

Crane tapped the small metal desk bell sitting on the table beside you. The bell rang, and Crane swiftly raked the feather over your arm, making you jump again.

“Now we’ve paired our two stimuli, and as we continue to solidify the link between them in the mind of the subject-”

He rang the bell and tickled you again, this time brushing the feather over your bare leg. You deeply regretted wearing cut-offs. The touch of the feather made you flinch, but, at the same time, you also started to feel a sharp jolt coursing through your core.

“Eventually, the sound of the bell alone will make her react.”

Crane continued lecturing, telling the class about Pavlov’s dogs and other famous examples of conditioning. At somewhat random intervals, he would stop whatever he was doing to ring the bell and brush the feather over various parts of your body. It seemed like he drifted over every inch of your exposed skin; anywhere he could reach. When he dragged it across your jaw, you nearly had to bite your tongue to stop from letting out a gasp. You were starting to enjoy this a bit too much, and realized to your shock that you were getting wet. You shifted in your seat again, hoping that no one else noticed what was happening to you.

“Using these concepts,” Crane said. “Virtually any stimulus can be paired with any other to create a learned response.”

The little bell rang again, and your whole body tensed, jerking in anticipation of the feather even as arousal pooled between your legs. Your face turned hot as the class laughed. Crane hadn’t even touched you.

“As you can see, if the initial relationship between stimulus and reaction is ingrained deeply enough, it doesn’t take very long at all to transfer to the second stimulus.” Crane smiled.

He was looking down at you, his expression mild. The red feather was tucked away, safely, in his pocket.

“Thank you,” Dr. Crane said, nodding. “You can go back to your seat.”

You got up, feeling a bit shaky on your legs, and made your way back to your desk in the front row. Almost as soon as you’d taken your seat, Crane rang the bell again, making you flinch even though you were now halfway across the room. Even worse, you felt yourself clench desperately at the sound. A few snickers came from the students around you, who sat close enough to see you jump. You watched as Crane’s eyes flicked briefly to your knees, which you were pressing together in a feeble attempt to try and control your reaction. He quickly composed himself, straightening up a little as he changed slides on the projector.

“Now,” he said, returning to his usual place behind the podium that stood next to the table. “Let’s talk about John Watson and his contributions to the theory.”

You tried to focus on taking notes, but couldn’t help the way your eyes drifted again and again to the silver bell, still perched just on the edge of Crane’s reach.

After class, as the other students went about packing up and heading to their next lecture, you shoved your books in your bag and hurried to catch Dr. Crane before he left the room.

“Professor?” you said, timidly. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Crane glanced briefly at his watch, then looked up at you with a smile. He stood just in front of the table, the torturous silver bell to his left.

“Of course,” he answered. “What’s on your mind?”

You hesitated, waiting for the last few people in the room to hurry on their way. There was a lump in your throat, and you swallowed against it, trying to press it down. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous. Crane had seen you in much more intimate positions than this. But, something about him taunting you in front of a lecture hall full of other people had you feeling bothered, and in more ways than one. He had probably meant it to be harmless. Of course he liked you; it only made sense for him to pick you as his “volunteer” for a simple demonstration like this. He couldn’t have known the effect it would have on you, surely.

“I… um,” you tried to start.

The two of you were alone now, and you should have been able to spit it out. Still, for some reason your tongue was like dry cotton in your mouth. Your eyes drifted again to the bell, sitting within arm’s reach.

“I’m sorry, but… could you not ask me to volunteer for any more… things like that?” you muttered.

Crane seemed to consider your body language. He noticed the way you refused to look him in the eye, instead focusing on the shiny desk bell. You wrung your hands together, and shifted your weight from hip to hip.

“Is something the matter?” Dr. Crane asked.

“It’s just… it makes me a little uncomfortable,” you explained.

Crane stood close beside you, and reached out to touch the side of your wrist. His fingers were gentle; feather-light. But that only served to make things worse, and you felt yourself start to come dangerously close to unraveling again. If Crane noticed the way you subtly clenched your legs together, he didn’t say anything about it.

“I’m sorry,” he told you instead. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s okay!” you blurted out. Suddenly, you were worried you had offended him. “It’s my fault, really. I just…”

His fingers took hold of your wrist a bit more tightly, and he brought your hand up to circle his waist. You leaned into the hug, feeling at once both secure and yet unrestrained with desire as his arms wrapped around your shoulders. You caught a whiff of his cologne, slightly spicy with a hint of smoke. The smell only pulled you that much deeper into your internal battle.

“Just what?” Crane prompted.

“I just… don’t want to get turned on like that in class,” you whispered, embarrassment flooding your cheeks. “It’s bad enough having to listen to you; trying to pay attention when all I can think about is-”

Crane hooked a finger under your chin, pulling back from the hug a bit to make you look up at him. There was a sheen in his eyes that made you nervous, but also caused the heat in your stomach to grow.

“Turned on?” Crane echoed. “Why would you be turned on by what I did?”

The smile at the corners of his mouth told you that Crane knew the answer to his own question. Maybe he wasn’t as innocent in this as you had wanted to think.

“I think it’s just, um… you touching me like that…”

“Oh. Like this?”

Crane pulled the devious red feather back out of his breast pocket. Holding it up to the column of your neck, he dragged it slowly down toward your collarbone.

“Ah!” This time, you couldn’t stifle your gasp. Even though the lecture hall was empty, you still felt a rush of shame and embarrassment. You and Crane had had sex a few times in his office, but always with the door safely locked. Here, everything felt too public. Too exposed. Crane let the feather fall, red plume drifting to the floor.

“Professor…”

“Hm. I wonder…” Crane mused.

He reached behind himself to press down on the little bell, still sitting innocently on his desk. At the sound of the ring, you faltered and sank a little closer to him. The mumbled cry that fell from your lips was very unconvincingly muffled.

“Mm.” Crane smiled down at you. “You know, that’s the problem with classical conditioning. It’s just so hard to control all the variables. Sometimes the response is transferred to a secondary stimulus that was never intended, like the sight of the lab assistant who brings the dog’s food instead of the sound of the bell. And sometimes…” He rang the bell again, and you clenched, walls fluttering pathetically around nothing.

“Additional implicit reactions are accidentally transferred,” he finished.

You were feeling dizzy. Barely paying any attention to Crane’s impromptu lesson, all you could focus on was the buzzing heat between your legs.

“I’m sorry, darling,” Crane smirked. He brought his face close to yours, nose trailing over the curve of your jaw as he whispered to you. “I didn’t know a little teasing would turn you into such a mess.”

His voice was sweet, even as his words dug into you. He kissed along your jaw, and you felt yourself slump against him. Crane supported your weight effortlessly, shifting his body to lean back against the table so that he could feel you press into him fully. You let out a whimper as he kissed you again, this time pressing his lips to the very corner of your mouth.

“Poor thing,” Crane mused. “Here - let me help you.”

His hands moved down to the backs of your thighs, and before you could say a word he had spun you around and lifted you up on top of the desk. He kissed you, fully on the lips this time, and started to trail his soft fingers up and down your legs. His faint touch against your bare skin was driving you crazy. Usually, he was much more direct - taking what he wanted and not wasting time on too much foreplay. This was different, and all of it was making your head spin. When one of his hands reached the hem at the leg of your shorts, you took in a sharp breath of air.

“W-what are you-?”

“What do you think I'm doing?” he teased. “You said you were turned on, darling. I'm just taking care of that little problem for you.”

His fingers pushed under the hem of your shorts, resting on the top of your thigh. The tight fabric forced him to press into your flesh; pads of his fingers making you squirm under the more intense pressure. You hummed, clenching the edge of the desk.

“Look at you - falling apart when I've barely even touched you,” rasped Crane. “At least, not anywhere that usually makes you this desperate.”

His other hand snaked up to roam under your shirt, drifting over the side of your waist. Your breath hitched.

“I do seem to remember you liked it one time when I touched you here,” he laughed, dark voice sinking into your skin.

His mouth was at your neck, and the hum of his words felt like butterflies. Your whole body shivered, and Crane pressed a burning kiss to your collarbone.

“Mmm, I know you asked me not to volunteer you for any more demonstrations,” Crane said. “But I think if doing it makes you this needy, I might not be able to resist.”

He kissed your neck again, this time biting down softly. You let out a moan as you felt his teeth press into your skin.

“Besides, you wouldn't say no to your professor, right? If he asked you to do something?”

“O-of course not,” you replied. Dr. Crane liked when you were obedient.

“Good. Then I need you to do something for me right now.”

Crane pulled back to look into your eyes. His soft smile made your heart flip in your chest. His lips were red from kissing you, and as he opened them to speak, his deep voice sounded like honey.

“Take off your shorts, and bend over.”

The lump that had been in your throat earlier sank down into your stomach, and then even lower. Crane was still looking back at you, teasing eyes clear and bright behind his glasses.

“I don't know…” you hesitated. “Here?”

Crane reached over to tap the little silver bell, and the ring sent a pulse straight into your core. It was humiliating how fast he had wrapped you around his finger, without even trying to.

“Don't worry; it'll wear off eventually,” Crane said. “Probably. Permanent conditioning takes much more reinforcement. But for now…”

He rang the bell again, and you jumped. The ache was becoming unbearable, and you knew you couldn't hold out for much longer.

“For now, I'm going to have some fun,” Crane taunted. “Now take off your shorts, darling.”

This time, you hurried to do as he said. You shuffled out of the denim shorts, standing up to let them fall to the floor. As he had ordered earlier, you turned away from him, and bent over the table.

Crane's hands drifted over your hips, coming down to grab at your panties.

“I'm sorry; I should have been more clear.”

Suddenly, he yanked them down, quickly exposing you to the chill of the air.

“I wanted these off, too,” he clarified.

Naked from the waist down, you had a brief moment to consider the situation you now found yourself in. You were facing away from the door, fully on display for him and anyone else who might happen to walk into the classroom. Your professor didn't seem to be too bothered by the idea, as his hand grabbed your ass and pushed your legs open just a bit wider, getting a better view. But then again, maybe he wasn't thinking too clearly right now either. He pushed up your shirt, bunching the fabric so that your back was exposed. You considered asking him to stop so that you could move things to his office, where at least you could lock the door for a little privacy. But any objections you had were forgotten at the rough sound of Crane’s pants zipper.

You felt him press up against your entrance, gently parting your folds as he dragged the head of his hard cock up and down.

“You really are turned on,” Crane marveled. “And all over a little feather…”

As he spoke, you felt the soft plumes of the feather moving gently over your spine. You tensed again. Crane must have picked it back up when your back was turned, and now he was teasing you, slowly, swirling the feather over the swell of your ass.

“S-stop!” you begged, jerking away from the sensation.

“Do you really want me to?” Crane whispered. “Or are you just embarrassed at how wet I'm making you?”

He lazily trailed the feather over your leg, teasing you with the very tip of the soft red bristles. His cock was still on the verge of penetrating you, and you felt him twitch as your body reacted, bucking against the touch of the feather.

“N-no,” you stammered. “Don't stop.”

“That's what I thought,” Crane smirked.

He started pressing into you, and the feeling was exactly what you needed. All of his teasing had driven you almost to the edge, and as soon as he was inside of you, you felt yourself inching dangerously closer.

“I should tease you like this more often.” Crane was pulling out of you again, only to slam his hips back into you, making your whole body bounce on the table. “If I'd known I could make you this wet, and this desperate, I would have moved the conditioning lesson up a few weeks.”

He laughed, and you felt yourself melting around him. The drag of his cock was so good as he pulled out, and the snap of his hips made you see stars as he pushed in. When Crane brought the puff of the feather up to trail over the back of your arm, you clenched violently, and he moaned.

The sound seemed to echo in the huge, empty room. Crane stayed still for a moment, buried so deep inside of you that it hurt. Then, he started moving again, this time at a faster pace.

“S-slow down,” you begged.

“Why? So you can beg me to stop teasing you again?” Crane taunted. “You can't have it both ways, sweetheart - try to make up your mind.”

You couldn't, of course. With the way he was pounding into you, the only available space in your brain was completely devoted to him - his perfect, veiny cock, and how it was stretching you out, mercilessly. Your hands scrambled for purchase on the desk, clawing at the smooth faux-wood finish.

“Ah!”

You yelped as Crane rang the bell again, not taking even a small break from thrusting, and for what must have been the dozenth time, you clenched around him.

Between the bell and the feather, your head was spinning. Dimly, you felt certain that Crane had abandoned all actual application of Stimulus Response Theory long ago. He was recklessly using whatever tools there were at his disposal; working you up and making sure that all the wires in your brain were thoroughly and completely crossed. You didn't care though. Whatever made you fall apart for him was fine with you.

“M’so close,” you slurred, fingers curling into the desk.

Crane brought the feather down to the curve of your waist, tracing over the spot that drove you crazy. Just like he had recalled earlier, it made you go nearly feral with lust. That was all you needed to tip over the edge that had been taunting you for so long. As you fluttered all around him, Crane followed right after you.

“Oh my god!” you cried, not caring anymore that you were still in the classroom.

Crane's shallow moans and grunts behind you were enough to make you squeeze him again, milking his cock as it emptied into you.

“Oh my god,” you repeated, a little quieter now as the reality of what you had just done sank in.

“I’ll say. That was… intense,” Crane laughed.

He pulled out of you, and you felt his seed drip down the inside of your thigh. You saw him scrambling for something to help you clean up with as you turned around, still needing to lean against the table for support.

“Here.”

He offered you a clump of napkins, scavenged from somewhere deep inside the speaker’s podium. You stuffed them quickly between your legs, trying to wipe up the sticky trails of cum that had already started to snake down. After you'd cleaned up a bit, Dr. Crane leaned forward to kiss you.

His lips still had a hint of the hunger that had passed between you. The feel of them pressed against yours, faint trace of saliva reminding you of the barely-faded passion, made you woozy all over again. He had to hold you to stop you from sinking down onto the table.

“I'd say that was rather stimulating, wouldn't you?” Crane joked.

You felt your face heat up, and he brought his thumb softly to trail across the edge of your jaw. Inside, you could still feel the proof of his lust leaking slowly out of you, and the tickling sensation made you flinch.

“I think… I liked that a little too much,” you admitted.

Your professor smiled down at you, taking in your shy face before bringing his lips close to yours for another, sinful kiss. You felt him smile against you as he whispered.

“I think you did, too.”

Deviously, Crane reached behind you to ring the little silver bell.

This fic now has a Part 2 HERE!

#jonathan crane x reader #jonathan crane smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #jonathan crane #LemmyFics

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 5 months ago

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Hello, I'm not sure if you've explained it or not but going in the depths of Malleus and Leona's character relationship? Like explaining their interactions and how they actually think of one another

Many fan works tend to depict Leona and Malleus as extremely antagonistic toward one another. However, the truth is that their relationship is more like a one sided dislike or annoyance (on Leona’s part). It’s not uncommon for them to bicker or have some tension in their conversations even when they have the same goal in mind such as protecting a harp (Beans Day) or wooing a ghost (although Malleus is not participating for the latter, Leona still insists the ghost would prefer him to Malleus to get that dig in). They’re definitely still on bad terms), but Malleus is generally pretty neutral with Leona unless he is provoked.

Leona’s beef with Malleus is story relevant and makes itself known in book 2. He appears to primarily dislike Malleus because it is thanks to his sheer power that Diasomnia crushes Savanaclaw every inter-dorm tournament, essentially dashing Savanaclaw students’ hopes of being scouted and going pro. Buuut it seems like from the way Leona speaks about his rival, he has long since held these feelings and they aren’t linked to a single inciting incident.

Part of why Leona dislikes Malleus in general seems to be Malleus’s attitude. Leona describes his fellow prince as “pretentious”, “high and mighty”, and acting in ways that show disrespect to him (like in Malleus’s Dorm Uniform vignettes, when he casted a spell meant for objects on Leona). He may also take issue with Malleus’s “incomprehensible fae humor”, which Leona references both during Halloween and in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes. Additionally, Leona outright states that he hates people who refuse to listen (Silver) and just march to the beat of their own drum (Rook), which are traits you can argue also fits Malleus (since Malleus didn’t really listen to the upset dorm leaders in his Dorm Uniform vignettes). Leona appears to prefer dealing with Malleus to Silver though, as he says that Malleus’s ears aren’t just “for show”. Interestingly, Leona might dislike Malleus less than Rook; Leona is wary of so much as wishing Rook a happy birthday and refuses to dine next to Rook… yet Leona does sit next to Malleus at the end of Terror is Trending.

Leona is one of the few students who isn’t afraid of Malleus and has the gall to openly insult him (or is rude) on more than one occasion. He doesn’t really show any remorse or intent to apologize. In fact, Leona understands very well what bothers Malleus and often acts on those points of weakness to goad him, whereas it is very rare for Malleus to start the fights. For example, Leona tells Malleus in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes, “You thinkin’ you’re gonna get it next time? Well, sorry to break it to you, but no one’s ever gonna invite you,” and, “You’re never gonna have a chance to wear those robes, so put’em away for good already.” This, of course, angers Malleus and leads into the two insulting one another’s physical features and exchanging threats (removing horns, declawing, calling each other animals or implying a lack of humanity, etc.). They similarly insult one another in Terror is Trending (again, Leona instigates: “Hmph, look at Mr. High-Horse over here. Were you flattered to be asked [to have your picture taken]?”) and again in Fairy Gala (Leona again: “Ever consider gettin’ off your tail and cleanin’ up your fellow fae’s mess?”). I’m sure there are tons of other instances you could come up with; these are just the immediate ones that come to my mind. Leona is also resentful about the idea of ever asking for Malleus’s help. He’d rather ask anyone else, even Malleus’s second in command, than ask the guy himself. Funnily enough, Lilia and Silver see these heated conversations as proof of Malleus and Leona’s friendship. I feel like this could also, in part, feed into Leona’s dislike of Malleus, as people having the wrong idea about your relationship can be irritating.

Now, Malleus does appear to care about maintaining amicable relations with representatives of other countries. Often it is he who instructs Sebek to apologize to Leona for being rude—two major instances of this occur in Malleus’s Ceremonial Robes vignettes and during Vargas Camp. He even personally (and happily) welcomes Leona to Diasomnia in his Ceremonial Robes vignettes, viewing Leona as no different than any other guest.

This goes into the realm of speculation (so please bear with me!!) but it could be said that Malleus has a very… unique view of friendship? So Lilia and Silver may not be too far off when they say that Leona and Malleus are chums in their own weird way. In Glorious Masquerade, Rollo poses a real threat to Malleus and to his people—yet when Malleus experiences genuine fear for the first time, he seems more excited at the novel feeling rather than cower as a result of it. Following the climax, Malleus still presents the song he had prepared as a gift of good will for NBC. He also proceeds to play with Rollo’s guilt to get him to agree to sharing a dance. And THEN Malleus says he looks forward to being invited again????? These are all quite friendly gestures for someone who put you and all your people in danger, my guy… �� So perhaps Malleus just gas a very different way of approaching friendships? Hard to say, but that’s some food for thought!

Leona and Malleus have had moments of amicability, so it’s totally possible for them to get along. This happens primarily in Leona’s Union Jacket vignettes; in them, Malleus gifts the birthday boy an antique book in an ancient language (Leona’s best subject). The two then talk about enjoying the freedom of walking around town without an attendant or some servants trailing after them. Being of a similar social status, they are able to understand one another to some extent.

This is going into another point of speculation, but I wonder if Leona and Malleus recognize their similarities beyond this interview. I certainly have; they’re both arrogant princes that deeply desire what the other prince has, and I feel that their animosity, in part, comes from this realization (whether conscious or unconscious). I certainly get the sense that some of Leona’s hatred of Malleus comes from seeing his own desires manifested in him—of being that coveted prince praised for his power, his people lavishing him with affirmations, a crown… All the things Leona doesn’t have.

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hyperfixationgoddess · 2 years ago

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Inspired by the fanfiction link above; kind of an aftermath scenario. I love the idea of Wayne being extra protective of Steve after Steve saved Eddie's life, and getting even more protective of him after he and Eddie start dating. What can I say, I'm a Wayne Munson simp. Also, while I might not have a lot of respect for him anymore, see if you can find the John Mulaney quote I slipped in here! @artiststarme I hope you like it!

Finally Protected

Wayne Munson was a lot of things. A salty grump, a loner, an uncle, a father.

But most of all, he was loyal.

Once someone earned his loyalty, it lasted for life. He would stick with them through thick and thin, and defend them against anyone. And against all odds, Steve Harrington had earned his loyalty.

Anyone with eyes could see that Steve was head over heels in love with Wayne's boy. Which was why he could not comprehend why it was Steve who was on the receiving end of all these goddamn shovel talks.

Found family, my ass, he thought to himself. Even that Buckley girl had given Steve a talk. Were they all stupid? They'd known Steve, really known him, for much longer than Wayne or Eddie had. How could they still think that Steve would hurt anyone, much less Eddie?

The worst thing about it was, Wayne knew that Steve would forgive them. It didn't matter how many times the Party hurt him, Steve would just shrug it off, like his feelings didn't matter. And considering Steve had already earned the loyalty of the Munsons, Wayne had a problem with that.

A big problem.

The day after Eddie apologized and the two boys made up, Wayne dropped by to talk to Steve. Even as he settled on the couch in the living room, he could see the tension in Steve's shoulders.

"You can relax, kiddo," he said. "I'm not mad at ya. Not here to give you another goddamn shovel talk, either."

Steve's eyebrows rose. "Really?"

Wayne nodded. "Eddie's an adult now, and he knows how to take care of himself. No, I'm here to talk about the rest of the Party."

Steve looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Wayne sighed. "Boy, you need to set some boundaries with these people."

"Boundaries?"

"Steve, I know this ain't the first time these folks have hurt you. Lord knows Eddie has gone on many rants about how the kids keep calling you an idiot, or how the Wheeler girl cheated on you after 'she ripped your heart out of your chest and stomped on it.' Eddie's words, by the way."

Steve looked uncomfortable, now. "Well, the kids are just messing around. And I shouldn't have tried to hold on to Nancy the way I did."

"The kids are old enough now to learn how to mess around without being disrespectful. And Nancy should have been honest with you instead of leading you on," Wayne countered.

Steve still looked apprehensive. Wayne sighed (again-he'd been doing that a lot lately).

"Look, Steve, I'm not saying you have to cut them out of your life. I know that'd be devastating for ya. But just letting them hurt you, and not saying a word about it... You deserve better than that."

Steve's eyes misted over. "No, I don't," he choked out. When Wayne opened his mouth to protest, the kid shook his head rapidly. "You don't understand, Mr. Munson, I was a really bad person in high school. The things I said about people... I'd tear them down without a second thought. I-"

Sensing that Steve was about to go on a self deprecating tangent, Wayne cut him off.

"Did you know that Eddie used to rant about you?"

This seemed to startle the kid. "Um... What?"

Wayne chuckled. "Yeah, I won't go into details, but he was very vocal about how much you bugged him... But then, out of nowhere, in 1984, he stopped. I asked him why, because I was curious. Do you know what he said?"

Steve gulped. "What?"

"He said, and I quote, 'he hasn't actually been an asshole in a while, and now that everyone else is trying to kick him down, I don't want to contribute to that.' You made a change, Steve. Not many people are willing to do that. Hell, most ain't even willing to believe that there's something wrong with em. But you were. I'll keep telling you, as many times as I have to for it to sink in. You don't deserve to be hurt."

The tears Steve had been holding back this whole time finally seemed to overwhelm him. Wayne scooched over to him and wrapped him in a hug.

"You've had to be strong for so long, kid. Let me look after you, yeah? Lord knows you deserve protection just as much as Eddie does."

Steve didn't answer, but he nodded. That was enough for now.

--0--

Wayne had been pacing around Steve's living room for about ten minutes when he finally heard the doorbell ring. It would appear that this group traveled as a pack, because every single member of the party was there.

That is, every member but two.

"Mr. Munson?" Dustin asked confusedly. "What's going on? Where's Steve?"

Wayne grunted. "All of ya just come in. I'll explain once you get settled. And I'm sayin this now, I expect you all to listen."

When everyone was sitting around the living room, Hopper was the first to speak up. "So Wayne, what's going on? Where's the kid?"

Wayne scowled. "If you mean Steve, he's at my trailer with Eddie. If that were big enough, we'd be there instead, but there's too many of you, and I need you all to hear this."

The Buckley girl looked extremely confused. "Why would you want us here if Steve isn't?"

Wayne took a deep breath in an attempt to control his anger. "Because it would seem to me that you lot forget just how much that boy does for all of you."

Joyce furrowed her brow. "Um... What?"

"You folks got a lot of nerve, acting like Steve is the one who's gonna hurt Eddie. He ain't a ticking time bomb, and you gotta stop treating him like it. After everything he's done for you lot, it astounds me how you can still treat him like crap. Found family, my ass."

Nancy Wheeler opened her mouth with an angry expression, but Wayne cut her off. "Don't go acting so high and mighty, Wheeler. Did you even realize that Steve still flinches when anyone uses the word bullshit? You tore his heart out of his chest and stomped on it, and then slept with another guy before you even broke up with Steve properly."

That seemed to shut her up. Good.

"And as for you kids, how many times has Steve taken a beating for you? The only ones that I've seen being respectful to him are Will and El. The rest of you... You've all been the victims of bullies, according to Steve. So explain to me, how in the hell can you justify the way you all treat him on a daily basis? Insulting his intelligence, bossing him around, disregarding the work he's done to change, all of that has to stop."

The kids tried to protest, but Wayne was on a roll. He rounded on Joyce, Hopper, and Robin. "Hopper, Joyce, Eddie is my kid. He ain't your responsibility. You had no right to give Steve that goddamn shovel talk as if he were still the guy he was in high school. And you, Miss Buckley? You call yourself Steve's best friend. You might wanna try acting like it.

"Now, I know that Steve sees you all as family. That's the only reason I ain't told him to cut you folks out of his life. But Steve has got no standard for how he should be treated as a human being. Whether you lot realize it or not, you've all taken advantage of that. He thinks that he deserves it, but I've seen the effort he makes every day to be better than he was. Most won't even accept that they need to be better, and it would seem that you folks are a part of that majority. I know that he deserves better, and I ain't even known him a whole year. That says something about you, don't it?

"Now, you are going to give Steve as much space as he needs. You won't ask him to babysit, you won't ask him to chauffeur you around, you won't ask him for money. You'll take some time to think about how you've treated him. And when you feel you're ready to apologize-not because of guilt or obligation, but because you mean it-you tell me. I'll let Steve know. But only when Steve is ready to see you all again, and not a second more, will I let you talk to him."

Wayne shared a vicious smile with El and Will, and then looked at the rest of them with a raised eyebrow.

"Now get the hell out of my future son-in-law's house."

Fin

#stranger things #steve harrington #wayne munson appreciation post #wayne munson #bamf wayne munson #steddie #bi steve harrington #i fucking love wayne #he protects steve because i say so #this took so long to write #but it was worth it

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wynndigogh · 2 months ago

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When you ask AI about the guys' festishes:

Sure! Let’s take another approach by delving deeper into how each Turtle’s personality could influence their specific romantic preferences or fetishes, keeping it character-driven and respectful.

Leonardo:

Personality: Leonardo is the disciplined, serious leader, often putting duty before his personal desires. He’s very much about control, responsibility, and being grounded.

Romantic Preferences/Fetishes: Leo might have a preference for control and structure in a relationship. He may be attracted to dynamics where he can maintain a sense of order and responsibility. He might also enjoy the concept of protection, taking on a guardian role, which could extend into romantic preferences where he feels responsible for his partner’s well-being.

Potential Fetish: A likely fetish for Leonardo could involve elements of authority or discipline, such as uniforms or a protective dynamic in which he takes charge, reflecting his natural leadership tendencies.

Michelangelo:

Personality: The most carefree and fun-loving of the group, Michelangelo is all about enjoyment, humor, and relaxation. He’s less concerned with responsibility and more focused on living in the moment.

Romantic Preferences/Fetishes: Mikey would likely be into playfulness and experimentation, always eager to have fun in a relationship. He’d enjoy partners who are adventurous, spontaneous, and willing to try new things. His interests would lean toward the lighthearted and sensual, where both he and his partner can feel free and unpressured.

Potential Fetish: Michelangelo might be into role-playing or costumes, reflecting his love for creativity, comic books, and fantasy. He could also have a strong interest in the playful, tactile aspects of intimacy, enjoying physical connection in a way that feels fun rather than overly serious.

Donatello:

Personality: The intellectual and inventor of the group, Donnie values intelligence and curiosity. He’s a deep thinker, often lost in his tech projects, and tends to be more introverted and shy about his feelings.

Romantic Preferences/Fetishes: Donatello would probably be attracted to someone who can engage his mind, stimulating him intellectually. He’d likely appreciate partners who are curious, logical, and willing to explore new ideas with him, particularly in the realm of science and technology.

Potential Fetish: Donnie might have a fascination with technology-based intimacy or even a curiosity toward things like virtual reality or cyber-themed aesthetics. His attraction to intelligence might lead him toward cerebral forms of connection, such as finding excitement in the mind-body connection or partners who challenge his intellect.

Raphael:

Personality: Raphael is intense, passionate, and emotionally complex. He hides a vulnerable side behind a tough exterior and struggles with expressing his feelings, often turning to physicality or anger instead.

Romantic Preferences/Fetishes: Raph would likely be drawn to power dynamics in relationships, where there is an element of tension or challenge. He may be attracted to partners who can stand up to him or push back when necessary, enjoying the emotional and physical interplay between strength and vulnerability.

Potential Fetish: Raphael could lean toward dominance and submission dynamics, where the power struggle is part of the excitement. He might find thrill in the intensity of both control and being challenged, reflecting his internal conflict and desire for emotional release. Raph could also be drawn to partners who enjoy physicality, whether through intense intimacy or shared combat training.

Summary of Fetishes:

Leo: Likely into authority, uniforms, and possibly a protective dominance dynamic.

Mikey: Enjoys playful role-playing, costumes, and tactile, fun-loving connections.

Donnie: Could have a tech-related fetish, perhaps involving virtual elements or an intellectual connection.

Raph: Might gravitate toward power dynamics, with a focus on intensity, challenge, and dominance.

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lunarlianna · 1 year ago

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Medusa Asteroid ( 149)

The Medusa myth is a compelling tale encompassing themes of power, fear and transformation. Medusa, born from the sea gods Phorcys and Ceto, was the only mortal among the Gorgon sisters. Originally, Medusa was a stunning maiden who captured the attention of Poseidon, leading to a grievous violation within the sacred confines of Athena's temple. In order to protect her, Athena transformed Medusa's hair into a mass of serpents, bestowing upon her a petrifying gaze. Medusa's astrological connection with the asteroid 149 suggests her influence recurs periodically, like seasons, lasting about 3.2 years. This implies cyclic challenges and growth tied to her themes.

Her family lineage underscores sibling rivalry and a sense of being different. After her transformation, Medusa retreats from the world, which can reflect where we tend to hide. Confronting these hidden truths requires courage and wisdom. Medusa's connection to Athena links her to Jupiterian qualities, offering insights when considering her placement with Jupiter in your chart. Some individuals with a strong Medusa presence may struggle with self-perception, seeing themselves as a metaphorical monster in the mirror. Others may possess an intimidating gaze that isolates them. Medusa's myth explores profound psychological and ethical themes, emphasizing self-awareness, ethical choices, and facing consequences. In astrology, Medusa indicates a swift and forceful defense mechanism to protect oneself, potentially causing tension, wounds, and unjust criticism in specific life areas, ultimately prompting personal growth.

Medusa in the 1st house: can give you a magnetic and intense presence that sometimes triggers negative reactions from strangers. Your hair and eyes, tends to draw attention, potentially making you a target for bullies or disrespectful comments in childhood. You may tend to stay hidden and to hide your body but you always end up being villainized. However, your transformative journey involves transcending these adversities. You rise above others' insecurities and boldly embrace your individuality. Empowering yourself by disregarding hurtful comments, you nurture self-appreciation and self-confidence despite societal pressures to conform.

Medusa in the 2nd house: can make you appear very self-assured and confident but you might find it difficult to see your own self-worth. Your voice may be quite attractive, and you might excel in business or singing. Financial success and possessions could come easily, but you may also face envy for your wealth. You may tend to hide the possession that you have and the inheritance that you received, especially from your husband. However, you can transform from this by maintaining your dignity, adapting to change, and valuing inner beauty over material possessions. Your makeup style may accentuate your allure, but be cautious of attracting unwanted attention in relationships.

Medusa in the 3rd house: may lead to tension with siblings and peers. In early years you may be quite shy and scared to express your opinion. In the neighborhood or with your siblings, things that go wrong might end up being attributed to you. Your social interactions may lead you to encounter individuals who are less than truthful, which can be frustrating. In some cases, people might misunderstand your intentions, labeling you as two-faced or even anti-social, especially if you're more introverted. However, your transformation comes by becoming more confident and setting boundaries, expressing your opinions assertively, and speaking up courageously when needed. Your ability to address uncomfortable truths may inspire others to do the same.

Medusa in the 4th house: can trigger negative reactions from family members. You might inherit certain challenging behaviors from an older relative and sense negative energy at home, possibly due to constant parental arguments. The them around you home can be quite unconventional, have an edgy look with marine and blue vibes to it. Your strong self-awareness and purposefulness can make it difficult for others to deceive or influence you. You've learned to establish your inner sanctuary, and you're protective of your emotions, possibly due to early criticism from a family member. This can lead to a desire for control and a slow transition when getting out of your comfort zone around others.

Medusa in the 5th house: with this placement people may envy or have hidden agendas, especially when you express your full self. You may tend to hide your art work and your creative endeavors, especially when younger. A lack of desire for children may bring you rumors, criticize and scandals. You're often villainized for outgrowing relationships and embracing change. There's a remarkable ability to protect your passions with unwavering determination, refusing to succumb to societal pressures or stifling expectations. In your life, you may attract partners with abusive tendencies and face misunderstandings due to your sincere kindness.

Medusa in the 6th house: people may envy your disciplined approach to daily life and work. In early years you might have encountered challenges with schoolmates and later, colleagues at work, a consistent inclination toward people-pleasing is noticeable. You've transformed from a people-pleaser to someone who values personal freedom and control. You're protective of your routines and may confront those who disrupt them, also you may like to adopt unusual pets and are very protective over them. You maintain a keen sense of discernment, especially regarding manipulative individuals, particularly men.

Medusa in the 7th house: your relationships may have faced challenges, and you could have experienced envy from others. People might see you as the peacemaker, but when you rebel, you face criticism. Controlling dynamics may have been part of your past relationships, and you may have experienced manipulation or guilt-tripping. People may envy your romantic connections, and sabotage could taint your relationships. You're villainized for not conforming to a one-dimensional image, for having your own vulnerabilities and complexities. To transform, reevaluate your role in relationships, recognize that you're not solely a caretaker, and insist on mutual partnership and empathy from others.

Medusa in the 8th house: with this placement, you may encounter challenges in your intimate life due to being oversexualized. Loved ones might underestimate your pain, assuming you're always strong. Expressing yourself is often met with dismissal or minimization of your trauma. Your interactions can be intense and alluring, sometimes leading to obsessions, especially in intimate relationships. You tend to attract controlling individuals and even stalkers, people that usually want to know all your secrets. Some may envy your constant transformation, which can lead to competition or backbiting. Transformation comes for owning your sexuality and being in control of your finances. Remember, your personal growth is something to be proud of, despite others' negativity.

Medusa in the 9th house: your profound wisdom and exceptional intelligence often set you apart. While your deep knowledge and unique beliefs may not always find immediate acceptance, they are a testament to your unwavering commitment to your values. You naturally challenge cultural and religious norms; your spiritual journey is highly transformative and you usually hide your spiritual beliefs. It's important to recognize that your wisdom and spiritual insights have the potential to inspire and enlighten others, even when they struggle to fully comprehend your perspective.

Medusa in the 10th house: can create a unique journey in your work environment, where you might unknowingly trigger feelings of jealousy and face unkind energies from others. Your public image tends to be captivating, but this can occasionally result in clashes with government or legal matters. Challenges in your career and with authority figures are not uncommon with this placement, as there may have been expectations from your father for you to follow in his footsteps. As you age, you're likely to discover a growing sense of personal power and influence. It's important to recognize that these experiences have shaped you, and they offer opportunities for personal growth and transformation.

Medusa in the 11th house: you might keep your dreams and ambitions hidden because of the jealousy and envy you witnessed from your friends during your early years. Your upbringing might have exposed you to less-than-ideal community conditions, which may have led to toxic friendships and betrayals from people you considered friends. However, you do have genuine friends who share interests in astrology, spirituality, or religion with you, and these connections are meaningful. People might judge you or be envious, but this likely stems from their own insecurities. You're resilient and have the potential to make a positive impact on your community and the world in your own unique way.

Medusa in the 12th house: you might have experienced a pattern of encountering hidden adversaries in your life, which could be tied to karmic elements. This placement could also suggest a tendency to turn to intoxicants, like alcohol, which might symbolize a form of personal poison. Many with this placement may feel a strong bond with water elements, often expressing it through tattoos or jewelry featuring water symbols, seashells, or even snakes. Vivid snake dreams can serve as cautionary messages, urging vigilance against hidden adversaries. Your spiritual pursuits might be perceived as disruptive to community and family norms, causing some to view you as a threat due to your ability to see through deception when others can't. Balancing vulnerability, self-protection, skepticism, and warmth highlights the need for compassion when confronting hidden traumas and fears in this placement.

#astro observations #astro community #astro placements #astrology #all signs #astro notes #for you #asteroid #astrologer #zodiac placements #medusa #gorgon #mythology #myth

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itwasntimethatdidit40 · 19 days ago

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Poison and Wine.

Pairing/Au: Javier Peña x f!reader

Words count: 1387

Rating: +18, NSFW

Warnings/Tags: pov second person, angst, smut, reader is described having breast and vagina, no other description of her is given (pic does not represent reader's appearance in any way, it is only aesthetic), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v (please use protections irl), sad thoughts, yearning, unspoken love.

A/N: Another fic I wrote a year ago, revised a year later. English is not my first language and I have no beta. I hope there are no mistakes but if there are, please excuse me. Writing Javier is not easy for me, I don't know why, but I tried.

It's inspired by the song Poison & Wine by The Civil Wars. I recommend listening to it for maximum effect. Hope you enjoy, thanks for your time!

You are in a small room. The moonlight comes in through the window, spreading across the floor in silvery streaks, leaving the rest of the room in semi-darkness. There is a bed in the center of the room, two nightstands on either side, a wooden chair in the corner with clothes haphazardly draped over it. Old curtains frame the sides of the window. The bed is covered with a red bedspread and cheap white sheets. The entire room smells of sex, cigarettes, and cheap deodorant.

On the wall opposite the bed is a small door that leads to a small, rather squalid bathroom. There is a man on the bed. He is lying on his back, his head resting on the pillow. He has short, thick, wavy raven hair, some tufts falling onto his high forehead. His eyes are closed, a strong, harmonious nose that blends perfectly with the rest of his face, shaved cheeks, pronounced cheekbones, full lips. The lower lip is slightly thicker than the upper one, covered by a pair of short, black, well-groomed moustaches, they’re parted, set in a sort of pout.

Neck relaxed, shoulders broad, arms stretched out at his sides, softly resting, hands open on the sheets. Regular breaths rise and fall on his chest, adorned with two small dark pink nipples, deliciously divided by the line of his sternum. His torso is almost completely hairless, except for a thin strip of hair that disappears into his black boxers. One of his legs is wrapped in the covers while the other is spread and the foot almost off the edge of the bed.

Your back rests on the pillow, which you have placed against the wooden headboard of the bed.

You've been watching him sleep for a while, he seems less worried in his sleep, less agitated by the urgency of not wasting time, of achieving the results he has set himself. There is always a tension in him, a restlessness that vibrates in his body. He is incredibly beautiful, you will never get used to how perfectly designed he is to make you lose your mind.

You are just a diversion, someone who calls to clear his mind, to chase away the horror he has to face every day. He never talks about his job but you are perfectly aware of what happens out there, you have seen it with your own eyes for as long as you can remember, you have lived here your whole life. The drugs, the corruption, the murders, the attacks, the bombs, have always been the backdrop to your life.

Most cops are corrupt, violent, double-crossing, you're used to not trusting them. There are few people who really try to do something good, like him. He was immediately kind and discreet, even if a certain cold detachment always remains.

You know he would never take advantage of you in a mean way. But you also know how he always sneaks out the door before dawn, making no promises, barely saying goodbye. You never know when he will call you again.

He takes what he needs and you are so eager to give it to him and he disappears like a ghost. Present in the moment, fleeting the next.

You know he asks you to meet him at these out-of-the-way motels because he’s afraid someone might follow you. You know it’s a way of protecting you as well as himself. But you can’t help but feel like you’re something small in his life, something not worth bringing into the light of day.

And you know you're already in awe, eager to have him, to taste him and feel his skin and his scent.

He smells like leather, cigarettes and tequila, with a fresh underlay of soap and men’s cologne.

You’re naked next to him, a heat still radiates from your lower abdomen and rises in your stomach.

You lie down on the bed, sighing, accompanying the pillow with your hands to slide it under your head.

Eyes on the ceiling, you’re trying to channel your emotions, without letting them crawl out of you.

You can make do with this. You can wait for him to wake up and you can tolerate him quickly picking up his clothes and leaving after a quick kiss on the lips. What he gave you before can be enough.

His hands running down your body.

Hands that can heal and can burn.

His lips in the crook of your neck, nibbling at the soft skin under your ear.

He pushed you, caging you between his body and the door, kissing you without saying a word. Flesh and teeth colliding.

He raised your arms above your head and his mouth trailed down your neck and chest, his mustache scratching you a little, his breath brushing your skin.

His impatient touch undressed you, his feverish fingers running down your tummy, lingering for a moment on the hem of your panties and then making room for them to look for your clit, drawing circles, making you vibrate.

He made you lie down on the bed, then took off his clothes and threw them on the chair.

He threw himself on you urgently, kissing your soft naked skin beneath him. He moved down between your legs to take care of your privates. His tongue was relentless, hungry, insistent as two fingers continued to rub your clit and his other hand was open on your hip. Your fingers were buried in his hair, your moans filling the silence along with his grunts of approval as he felt you tremble and melt for him.

His lips moved up to you, determined not to leave aside even an inch of your skin. You felt him everywhere on your body and you didn't care about anything else. He pulled you against him, wrapped one big, strong arm around your waist. Your breasts pressed against his chest, his cock poking at your entrance, stretching you an inch at the time, sinking into your warm, soaked cunt.

He moved slowly at first to let you get used to it, then harder, deeper. You felt his mouth widen into a smile on your skin as you repeated his name like a prayer.

Javier.

He held you tight to feel as much of you as he could, hammering your softest spot over and over again. He whispered in your ear, his voice deep, raspy, bouncing in your chest, in your brain, driving you crazy.

His jaw went slack, his eyes darker and full of lust as he came inside you, making you feel like you were one, painting your walls with his cum.

He didn't stop until he felt your pussy twitch and tighten around his cock, your head thrown back, your eyes closed, your mouth agape.

No one has ever made you feel this way, insatiable, overwhelmed by the need to have him more and more.

You are lost.

Empty.

You can't admit it.

You can't face it.

There is nothing you would like more than to feel important to him, someone who gives him peace of mind, someone who can always be by his side.

You know it will never happen but you can't stop wishing it would.

He wakes up. You look away, so as not to let him know that you were doing nothing but looking at him, in the vain hope of at least satiating your gaze, without success.

Javier.

He turns to you, strokes your arm and then sits on the bed, stretching.

He lights a cigarette, completely unaware of the battle raging inside you. He seems calm, relaxed, takes a drag and tosses the ash into the ashtray on the nightstand.

You want to shake him by the shoulders, tell him how hard it is every time you see him go, how painful it is. You want to ask him if he knows how he makes you feel. You do nothing, you just sit there, wrapped in the blankets, inhaling the sweet smell of his sweaty skin.

You smile weakly at him as he gets up, puts out his cigarette, gets dressed, gives you a quick kiss, and walks out the door.

Without saying anything, without promising anything, as usual.

I don’t love you, but I always will.

#javier peña x ofc #javier peña smut #javier peña x reader #pedro pascal #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña #narcos fic #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters fanfiction

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ruwriteshours · 1 year ago

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CHASING PAVEMENTS (PART II) 𓇼 (P.JS)

PAIRING ⇨ park jisung x fem! reader

GENRE ⇨ continuation of chasing pavements, angst, smut, brother's best friend trope, fwb/secret relationship, fluff

WARNING ⇨ !!sexual content!! (minors dni) jisung is an asshole, reader is frustatingly naive, not much honestly

SUMMARY ⇨ In which jisung's derived thoughts leads him to an unlikely arrangement with chenle's sister, where he fucks up (quite literally) when he realises how deep in the feels he has for the girl he is suppose to show disinterest to, in honour of 'BRO CODE'.

TAGLIST ⇨ @heyitsconysstuff @toroufriteh @chaerfull @fly-inghighx @tangerinehyuck @taexoxosgf @kazscara @seonghwa9ie @bleuczennie @bekah931215 @bl--ankhaeji @mad2lyn @fakeuwus @sinsgaybutthatsokay @crzns <3

AUTHOR'S NOTE: this definitely took longer than i expected bcos i didn't plan for the plot to go this way honestly so i hope you guys like it!

IS IT POSSIBLE TO MEND A BROKEN HEART?

The answer to that is uncertain. To let go of someone you once cherished was something you thought you could never do. Were you being dramatic?

Absolutely.

But that doesn't make it any less hurtful. You weren't really doing well ever since the incident at the party. Left in tears of anger as you come to the realisation of being used. You hated being treated like an idiot.

Why on earth would Jisung waltzed in and declare his feelings for you when he has done nothing to prove it?

Chaeryeong and Yunjin were furious when presented with this information. A string of curses escaped their lips as the both of them console you in their dorm, you were a mess when you realised how much you still had feelings for the idiotic boy.

He's no good for you.

Is what you keep telling yourself whenever a notification would appear on your screen with his name on it.

It was a bad idea from the start to get too attached to him. An idiot you were to let your mind play out a fantasy with your lovesick crush, thinking you could get a happy ending out of it. As much as you wanted to forget him, it was difficult when he was a part of your life for so long, practically your childhood. Plus, it was hard to avoid him when he is the closest friend to Chenle, having that connection that would still make him try his advances on you.

In fact, he would still attempt to be near you in any way he could, despite the previous event. Texting you everyday, begging for forgiveness, approaching you in class with a snack in hand to give, being the one to wave to you whenever you walked passed each other, all of which you were dismissal to. Everyone was definitely shocked with the sudden change of scenery, having had used to you being the one chasing after him.

THURSDAY.

Chenle has definitely seen the awkward tension between the both of you, especially when one particular day he called you to ask to pick up something for him and you would come into their dorm later that day. He saw how Jisung would be the first to open the door in such a hurry. Chenle didn't think much of it but he was fairly suspicious at the fact that Jisung was the one doing the longing stares as you ignored his presence, being the one to initaite a conversation, but was cut short when you gave him sharp responses.

However your brother didn't have a mind of Einstein, oblivious as ever as he shrugged it off, thinking that Jisung was trying to be nice even though he has never tried to interact with you before.

Much things could not be said to his roommate, Haechan, who has predicted this might happen, knowing well enough how clueless the younger is at dealing with his feelings. Offering a friendly word of advice to his friend.

"You should really give her time."

But that was not what Jisung did, he was stubborn as ever. He wanted you to understand how much he regretted his actions. He didn't care how long it will take for him to gain your trust, his heart was set in making you forgive him.

Even if it meant that he was ruining his pride, it was long gone when he realised that he would be losing you in the process. He didn't know what he had until it was gone. Those times where you would constantly be by his side, ready to annoy him made him yearned for the moment to come again. He couldn't return your feelings because he was scared of what his best friend might think, but he couldn't care less about those stuff anymore. Hurting you was his last option.

Yet that was what he did.

He hurt you. Deeply.

Now he has to face the consequences and make up for it, no matter how long it will take him to get there.

"Can you please move?"

Your voice had a hint of annoyance, teeth gritting as Jisung stood in front of your locker for what it seems to be like the 10th time.

The male stubbornly moved to the side but still kept a close contact with you, much to your dismay.

"So, are you free today?" He jumped when you slammed the locker door shut, a sarcastic smile played on your lips.

"No." You held your books tightly, preparing to walk away.

However, he was close to your pace, trailing beside you. "Well, how about tomorrow? I heard that there's this really good pla—"

"Not interested."

You cut him off harshly.

"Why not?"

He defiantly asked.

You stopped in your tracks, ready to give an earful at his audacity. But before you could open your mouth, Seungmin came in and wrapped an arm around you. You sigh in relief, thankful that someone is here to save you.

"Hey! You ready?" Seungmin smiled, his eyes glanced towards Jisung, whose jaw was clenched in anger.

"Of course, let's go!" You walked away, ignoring the calls of Jisung.

"Thanks for saving me." You sighed once Jisung was out of sight. The male chuckled, "Wow, he seems really desperate this time."

"Unfortunately, Chenle was accusing me of 'brainwashing' him." You said, using air-quotes. "I don't know how long I can take this."

"Maybe you should talk it out again." Seungmin suggested.

"Nope, definitely not." You disagreed, Seungmin laughing at how quick your response was.

Ever since the party, you got closer to Seungmin. You had realised how much the both of you had in common and you found yourself talking to him. Even after your 'talk' with Jisung that day, Seungmin offered you company as the both of you walked back to your dorm. Overtime, you got comfortable with him, much to Jisung's dismay as he watched how Seungmin would cling onto your side now. Despite filling in on your personal history with your brother's best friend, Seungmin never tried to make a move on you, knowing that the last thing you want is a relationship. Like a kind-hearted person he is, he offered a shoulder to cry on and a ear to listen to.

"I'm so tired. Finals are killing me." You groaned, craning your neck from the soreness.

You had finally finished the project that was assigned three hours ago, being a fairly good student, it was a habit that you developed in order to ensure you didn't have a heavy workload. However, the more that your finals were nearing, the more your lecturers have been giving assignments continuously that is was racking your brain. Seungmin gave you company while you worked in the library, your head buried in the books. Unfortunately, your friends had their own hectic schedule due to their different module so they weren't able to come.

"I heard a cafe that just opened up a few days ago." Seungmin offered. "Wanna go with me?"

You smiled at his suggestion before closing your book, part of you desperately wanting a break as you began packing your bag, Seungmin following suit.

The way to the cafe was a brief walk, and thankfully you had enough strength to drag your limp body towards the destination. As the both made your way towards the cafe, you couldn't help but feel a sudden presence behind you. Turning around, you only saw two hooded figure behind, one of them turning their head behind dramatically. You shrugged it off, thinking it was just nothing as you made your way inside, the bell jingled as you opened the tinted glass door.

"You're crazy." You heard an awfully familiar voice behind you, carefully you began to tune in while Seungmin went ahead with your orders. Luckily, the queue being short as not a lot of people have heard of this place before.

"Just shut up!" Jisung harshly whispered, slapping his friend's shoulder.

"When I said I would help, this is not the kind of help I meant." Jisung rolled his eyes at the older.

"Like maybe at this point you need some professional help. Have you considered therapy?" Haechan suggested, which only made the younger glare at the insufferable boy.

"I'm just saying, you seem like you're the obsessed one now." He pointed out.

"I'm not obsessed." Jisung said, rather too quickly, causing the older to raise his brows questioningly. "I'm just making sure that he doesn't do anything to hurt her. I'm only looking out for her." He justified, observing Seungmin, who was talking to the cashier upfront.

"Hm, sounds like the call is coming from inside the house." Haechan snickered at his own joke, causing the younger to hit him at the back of the older's head.

Haechan whining at the impact.

Jisung huffed, watching as Seungmin returned back to his seat, with both cups of coffee in his hand. Jisung's hand clenched in anger, to the point he felt his blood lost circulation from the amount of pressure he applied. Maybe that's why he couldn't think straight, he thought bitterly as he saw the way you smiled around the boy, a deep feeling of jealousy bubbling through his skin.

He didn't like it one bit.

"Dude, can we just go. I'm kinda getting tired of playing stalker." Haechan called out, his voice hint with urgency.

Jisung ignored Haechan's whining as his eyes were boring at the back of your head, his hood covering his features as he began examining your face, the way you wore light makuep today, your rosy cheeks stood out as your bright smile shined through the room. How could he have been so blind?

Eventally, his staring got too intense that even after you were done with your drink, you stood up and began walking towards his direction.

Shit!

He began ducking himself away as Haechan panicked beside him, opting to hide his face under the table, hitting his head in the process as his let out a soft 'ow'.

"Is there a reason you're stalking me now?" Your voice called out, annoyance laced in your tone as you crossed your arms, waiting for a response.

"I don't know what you're talking about, miss." Jisung pretended to deepen his voice, cupping his mouth.

"Maybe you mistook us for someone." Haechan added, a little too high pitched for his own voice.

You scoffed, "Lee and Park. I know it's you guys, you guys suck at keeping a low profile, I've seen you guys behind us for the past 15 minutes."

"Well damn, didn't know we're on a last name basis." Haechan dropped his act, lifting off his hoodie as he slumped against his chair, "I didn't do anything wrong!" He huffed childishly.

"So hello to you too Zhong and Seungmin." He waved sarcastically, earning a chuckle from the brown-haired boy, who waved back at him enthusiastically— finding humour in the situation.

"I'm sorry, Haechan." You rolled your eyes playfully. "But please tell your friend that he needs to respect some space when clearly the person he's stalking is no longer interested in his games." You said, every word dripping with venom as you acted like Jisung was not there.

"That's funny." Haechan chuckled, "That's what I told him too, but you know stubborn as alw— oof!" Haechan was cut off when he was elbowed harshly by the younger, embarassment flodding through his face as he was caught red-handed.

Before the situation could play out any further, the bell jingled outside and in came in Chenle, alongside with Mark and NingNing.

"Oh, dude. I may or may not have invited them here." Haechan announced awkwardly as the trio made their way towards their table.

"And you're only telling me this now?" Jisung asked incredulously, covering his face in embarassment as he could hear footsteps approaching.

"Hi, Jisung." NingNing voice spoke softly as she took a sit next to him.

"Hi." He replied back, monotonously.

"Ugh, what are you doing here?" Chenle asked in disgust, eyeing you up and down. You scowled, "Suprise big bro, we're at a public place and it's possible to see the same people when it's near college campus!" You made a jazzled hands, exaggerating your words.

"I wouldn't be shocked if you didn't know, considering you don't have a lot of friends."

"Says the girl whose only hanging out with one person." Chenle fired back before adverting his gaze onto Seungmin, "No offense."

"None taken." Seungmin waved off.

"We're leaving now, so don't worry." You grabbed Seungmin's hands as you made your way to the exit.

"Well, good riddance for us!" Was the last thing you heard before the door closed.

Jisung sighed in disappointment when you left, his heart clenched from the way you held the other's hand. A part of him felt selfish for thinking he could get another chance with you, especially when he was the one to mess everything up. Throughout the whole gathering, he couldn't bring himself to talk, too deep in thoughts that he didn't take notice on the way NingNing's face dropped when she realises that he wasn't paying attention to her. Chenle, who was observing the whole thing, kicked Jisung from under the table, which made him perked up at the sudden intrusion. He could only utter apologies as NingNing shook her head, waving it off as she put on a fake smile, knowing deep down that his interest in no where near her.

FRIDAY.

For the sake of your overbearing parents, you and Chenle were forced to leave campus early and travel back to your hometown to meet with your grandmother's. Since it was around the weekends, your parents didn't want to take the risk of getting held back by traffic, so they took the liberty of booking the flight for the both of you in advance and you would have no choice but to accept.

This was a common theme for your parents to do, to plan something without announcing until the very last minute. Though, you couldn't blame them, considering that it was difficult for you and Chenle to make time and visit whenever there was a family event and since it was your grandmother's birthday, you would feel guilty to miss that out. A part of you hoping for this unplanned vacation to take your mind off of finals, and more importantly Jisung.

Packing your stuff as you gave your roommate a hug, you decided to meet up with your friends at their dorm so that you could bid your goodbyes, dramatically letting out a sigh before helping you carry your suitcase in the car.

"Is Chenle coming with you?" Yunjin asked, checking the rear-view mirror.

"No, his friends are sending him off." You shook your head, "I'll just meet him there straight away."

Chenle had initially invited you to go with him but knowing that his friends were there, spefically the boy that you wanted to avoid at all cost, it was safe to say that you had declined his offer, opting for the company of your friends instead.

Though, your brother didn't prod further, he was confused as to why you wouldn't want to, considering that if any other circumstances that his friends (Jisung) were to be there, you would be up in your feet to join in uninvited. So the fact that you would say no to his invitation, which he rarely would do as you would constantly be up in his best friend's business and take his attention away, makes this all more confusing to the male. Especially so, since he could see the disappointed look on Jisung's face when he announced that you were heading off with your own friends.

What had happened between the two of you?

"I'm so glad you kids could make it!" Your grandmother's warmth engulfed you in a hug, pulling along your brother.

"We're glad we could make it too."

"You can settle in while I prepare dinner for us, as a family." Your grandmother shed a tear.

"Mom, you promised not to cry." Your mother said, shaking her head.

"I know, I know but give me a break. It's been awhile since I get to see my grandchildren." She scolded, giving both you and Chenle a peck on the cheeks.

"Both of you have grown up so well!"

After the long flight, there's nothing more for you to want than to lie down on your bed, giving a warmful greeting to your grandmother, you made your way towards the bedroom that your grandmother had kindly prepared for the both of you.

"It's still the same as before we left." You commented, taking a glance around the room.

"Yeah, no shit." Chenle scoffed, "I'm suprised she still kept my toys." He picked his collection of car toys and began admiring it.

"That's 'cause you would bitch if anyone comes near it." You retorted.

"I do not!"

"You so do." You said back. "Remember that time when Jisun—"

You cut yourself off, having had your words spill out before your brain could even fully comprehend what you were saying. Shit! Even when he's not here, you caught yourself thinking about him. Fuck me!

"That time when he?" Chenle drawled, wanting you to finish but seeing the way your face dropped, he couldn't help but question something that has been itching his mind. "You're being awfully distant with Jisung."

You frozed, luckily your brother didn't notice as he continued. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you're not some crazed idiot around him anymore." He chuckled, "But he's talked about you often."

You perked up, your facial expression seemed to have been to obvious as Chenle spoke up again. "Yeah, I was shocked too. I don't know what happened between you two but, uh, I hope you guys sort that out." He laid down on the bed with a loud yawn.

"What did he say about me?" You blurted out before you could stop yourself. Chenle could only offer a shrug, "He always asked if you're with this Seungmin guy or when you would come to our dorm. I don't know but it's nothing to crazy 'cause I know how you like to overanalyse stuff." He said lightheartedly.

But boy, was he right.

Because what were you even suppose to do with the new-found information. It should've been obvious that Jisung would try make amends. You assumed that it was mostly out of guilt, but you hadn't expected him to risk blowing his cover by asking about you from Chenle, considering he was very determined to keep this little ordeal a secret.

One thing for sure is that you were very confused.

Jisung was confusing you.

Before you could say anything else, your grandmother's voice called you out, annoucing that dinner was ready.

"Finally! I'm starving."

You hadn't expect dinner with your family to be as awkward as it is, but you couldn't but feel that way when your parents are very prying about your love lives. It's not like you could tell them that you used to have a sexual relationship with your brother's best friend without his knowledge and stupidly ended up breaking your heart so you're currently in the process of healing. There's just no way!

So yet there you are, sitting quietly as you let your parents ramble on about your current status.

"What about Seungmin?" Chenle spoke up, his smug smile evident as he saw the way your eyes widened.

"Shut up, idiot!" You hit your brother's shoulder in irritation, "It's not like that!"

"Hey! No fighting in the table." Your mother scolded, and after a brief pause she continued, "So, when do we get to meet this boy?"

"Um, never! He's not my boyfriend." You denied, shaking your head.

Chenle scoffed, "Oh, please. As if you guys don't hang around in campus everyday."

"I swear—"

"So, I'm guessing your crush on Jisung is finally over." This time, your father concluded, a smile on his lips as he enjoyed watching your panicked state.

"Oh, right. That sweet boy." Your mother said, "You guys would look so cute together!"

Chenle faked gagged. "Don't make me throw up, mom!"

"No way! I'm not into Jisung anymore." You scowled, hand slapping against the wooden table. "And neither am I in a relationship. Can we please target Chenle now."

Chuckles filled in the room as your face was red, as if you were suffering from a frostbite.

"Speaking of Jisung, he might stop by here tomorrow." Chenle announced, which earned an excited gasp from your mother.

You dropped your fork, food caught in your throat from shock as you cough relentlessly. Gasping for air as you patted your chest.

"What do you mean 'stop by', like he's gonna book a flight to come here?" You were baffled with this discovery, taking a huge gulp of water that your mother handed out to you.

"Uh, yeah." Chenle deadpanned, "His parents are out doing business in Shanghai so he decided to join us. I hope that's okay with you guys."

"Oh, isn't that wonderful?" Your grandmother agreed, "We have more company to celebrate my birthday."

"But—"

"I haven't seen Jisung in awhile, I can't wait for him to come!"

Just fucking great!

SATURDAY.

You felt like you were going crazy.

It has been approximately 3 hours since Jisung had arrived here, along with Chenle, who had picked him up from the airport. You thought you would be mature enough to face him but aside from your cold greetings, Jisung never seemed to be as talkative to you as he was before and for some unknown reason, you were frustated with that because now, it feels like you were back to square one. It makes it seem as if you were the one waiting for him to notice you. You hated this constant back and forth. A part of secretly thinking that this was Jisung's plan all along, to string you along and make you think he was interested when you ended things but in reality, it was all for shits and giggles in the end. That sudden thought made your heart churned.

Because how could Jisung just sit there and laugh, acting as if he has the right to? You were boiling from anger, hating the fact that he was there, sitting on the couch, playing video games with your brother as if it's some normal occurence. It's not like he cared enough about your grandmother's birthday, hell! He had only seen her a few times when he was younger so why the hell would he come here and spend his weekends with your family when he could just stay back home with his friends, having parties and drinking away? It's not like he couldn't see Chenle afterwards anyways. It was frustating to see him at every corner you turned to.

What was he really doing here?

You watched in exasperation as Jisung's eyes were focused on the screen in front of him. You hate him. You hate how he had the audacity to come here. You hate the fact that he didn't care how much he hurted you. And most importantly, you hated that even after what he did, just him sitting there could make your heart flutter every single time since you were kids.

You really hate him.

But of course, that didn't stop you from hanging out with them. To be fair, your mother was practically forcing you to go out with your brother, saying that you could 'use some fresh air' and that it could be 'the perfect opportunity to help Jisung find gifts for your grandmother', considering he came in empty-handed and felt guilty if he had nothing to give.

So here you are, walking at the back as you tuned out the conversation the both of them were having. Hand in pocket as you kicked rocks that you saw on the pavement, boredom consuming you. It seemed as if Jisung could sense your aura because he turned around mid-convo, a soft smile displayed on his face as he watched your actions. Chenle noticed and began calling out to you, which made you jump from how loud his voice was.

Walking towards an antique shop (that your mother had suggested since your grandma's always into vintage findings), Jisung held the door out for you and you thanked him softly, wanting to appear civil. Inside, you could already see that Chenle was talking to the shop owner, you didn't bother listening and just assumed that he was looking for something specific that Jisung could give.

Walking away as you began to look through the shop, vintage items displayed on the shelves as you try to avoid the other male, pretending as if you looked preoccupied.

"Ah, I see. I think we have that in here, follow me." The shop owner responded as she motioned Chenle to follow her.

"You can go look around." Chenle looked at Jisung, "Find something that you think she'd might like."

"Sure thing."

And that was when Jisung began walking towards your direction, face full of determination. Your back was facing him, which gave him the opportunity to sneak behind you without you running away.

"Hey." You jumped, your hand gripping onto a small vase that you were admiring.

"Can you not." You groaned.

"Liste—"

"No." You interrupted firmly. "Can you please get away from me?"

You moved a couple steps away when he snatched the item you were holding, hand up in the air as he uses his height, putting you at a disadvantage.

"Hey! What the hell?"

"Just listen to me. For once." He begged, the sudden frustation in his eyes evident.

"You don't get to feel angry right now." You fumed, "I made it clear at the party that I want nothing to do with you."

"I know—"

"Then why are you still trying!" You whisper-yelled, not wanting to cause a commotion that it already has. "Why are you— mmph!"

For the first time, that anticipating moment that you have been dreaming of felt like you weren't in reality. No amount of warnings could've prepared you for what was about to come.

He smashed his lips against yours.

It was as if time slowed down. As clichè as it was, you couldn't help but feel the utter shock. A fluttering feeling at the pit of your stomach, the lust clouding your vision as you take in the sudden action, eyes widening as Jisung's grip began making its way towards your neck, stabilising your movements. You should've pushed him away, yell at him, scream at him and maybe throw a punch at his handsome face but your stupid heart reacted faster than any logical scenario that should've happened.

You kissed him back.

With the same amount of desperation and passion that he put into that kiss. You felt like you were losing your mind from the way that you could feel his lips moving softly against yours, teeth nibbling at your bottom lip that you couldn't help but open, his tongue softly massaged the wet muscle of yours and you couldn't help but feel like you were in cloud nine. He was being very slow with his movements, as if not wanting to scare you away. Your hand held onto his neck as you deepened the kiss, desperately wanting to feel more.

What. The. Fuck!

Your mind was screaming, cursing at you for your stupidity but your heart simply shut down, wanting to savour the moment as much as you could.

Just then, before it could progress any further, Jisung had stupidly let go of the vase that he was holding, completely forgetting that he had it. The sound of the vase smashing made both of you reeled back into reality as Jisung jumped from the sudden commotion. But it was the least of your worries as you began to feel a slight sting on your ankle.

A bad day to wear a short pants.

"Ow!" You yelped, looking down at your legs to see a line of gushing blood, the shattered glass was pouring around the both of you.

"Oh shit, are you okay!?" Jisung asked frantically, hand holding your legs as he inspected the wound.

"What's happening there?" Chenle called out, walking towards the scene.

Looking down at the wound on your legs, he could see it was becoming worse, seeing the way you were holding onto Jisung's shoulder for support.

"Shit!" He cursed. "I think she got cut by the glass!"

"Is everything okay here?" The shop owner exclaimed.

"No, ma'am. My sister accidentally dropped the vase." Chenle explained, which caused the lady sighed in annoyance, "That was one of the most expensive item here!"

"I'm sorry," You uttered profusely, "I'll pa—"

"I'll pay for it!" Jisung interfered, "It was my fault anyways."

"Dude, are you sure?"

"Yeah, it's fine." He turned back, facing the lady. "So, where can I pay?"

And that's when the three of you ended up going to the nearest convenience store to treat your wound. After a few arguements here and there, you had resorted into refusing to return back home, not wanting to hear an earful from your nagging mother.

"Let's go to the convenience store, we're quite far from grandma's house anyways." Your brother pointed out.

"It hurts," You limped, face scrunching into pain.

"I'll carry you." Jisung offered.

"What?" Both you and Chenle said in astonishment.

"It's not a big deal," The taller male shrugged off, hands inside his pocket as he looked around, "The walk isn't that far."

"It's fine—"

"I insist." He said firmly.

"Well, I'm telling you that it's not necessary." You said pointedly.

"I beg to differ."

"I can do it!"

"No, you can't."

"Yes—"

"Oh, just let him carry you already." Chenle butted in, "At this rate, your wound would already be healed from you guys bantering."

"We were not bantering." Jisung retorted.

"Whatever." Chenle waved off, walking off first.

You felt nervous all of the sudden. Sure, the both of you have done way more sexual stuff than this and it shouldn't bother you in any way.

But it is.

Because it's different when your feelings are on the line. That kiss was something you've never felt before. You were beginning to feel that your emotions were going haywire. You thought you had it under control but it was obvious that Jisung still had you wrapped around his fingers.

You didn't know whether you hated it or not.

Lifting yourself off the ground, your legs securely wrapped on his waist as his hand gently held you up, his fingers brushing against your inner thighs and you were using every once of self-control to not squirm around his touch.

The walk was suprisingly peaceful, well, as peaceful as it can be because even though you were under Jisung's arms, you tend to forget the watchful eyes of your brother, scrutinising every single movement from the both of you. You could tell he was beginning to suspect something and that made you worry a little for Jisung but you remained calm, not wanting to make the situation more awkward that it already has. Even when Chenle had offered to be the one to patch you up, Jisung refused and did it instead, practically shoving the other to get to you.

Applying the ointment on your leg, you hissed at the pain and Jisung paused his action, concern in his eyes as he kept checking up on you. Chenle could only watch the interaction in silence, confused with the sudden closeness the both of you had.

"We should get grandma a cake on the way." He interrupted the moment, seeing the way the both of you snapped back out of trance.

The whole celebration afterwards went well and it seemed as if Chenle had forgotten the whole event afterwards, considering he never questioned you about what happened, which you were thankful for. After the birthday, you would've have suspect that things would go back to normal, though, you underestimate how much the world seemed to hate you...

"Jisung, you can sleep at the room instead." Your mother said.

"Uh, and where am I suppose to sleep?" You interjected, knowing damn well you would rather die than to sleep (not sexually) with your brother and his best friend.

"Oh, don't be silly." Your mother laughed, "We have plenty of cushions in the couch."

"Are you seriously gonna make me sleep here." You asked incredulously.

"On second thought." Chenle interrupted, "I think we both can sleep here and she can have the room all to herself."

"But—"

"I agree too, Mrs Zhong. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the hospitality but I don't mind sleeping outside."

You sighed in relief.

"Well, make yourself as comfortable as you can." Your mother turned away to face both you and Chenle, "Please be at your best behaviour, this has been the most happiest I've seen your grandma's been so please don't ruin it for her and unfortunately, I won't be able to get a good cell service at the hotel so please be careful and don't get into trouble while your father and I are away."

"Got it, mom." The both of you mumbled in unison at your mother's rambling.

And for the first few hours you were left alone in the room while you could hear the sounds of the roaring laughter from Chenle. The noise had quiten down for what felt like hours and you could've assumed that the both of them went to sleep after that, drifting yourself to sleep as well when you hear a sudden knock on the door.

"Come in."

Jisung's head peeked in, "Hi."

"Let's talk." You could tell that he had been waiting for Chenle to be sound asleep before making his way here, considering that he was very fidgety than normal.

"It's not like I have much of a choice." You sighed, knowing that deep down, you were already mentally prepared for the conversation.

He ignored your snarky comment, "I kissed you."

"Well, that's one way to start." You chuckled, "But go on."

"Look, I know you hate my guts right now and I should've left you alone when you told me to." He let out a shaky breath, "But I couldn't, when you started hanging out with that guy, I started to realise how much I like you. I know I'm selfish but I didn't know what to do when I realised it, I thought if I acted more possessive it would've made my feelings clear but instead I pushed you away."

You listened intensely, fingers gripping the sheet as you chewed your bottom lip. A million thoughts ran through your mind.

"It's a shitty excuse, I'll admit but I just want you to know that I regret treating you like you don't matter because you do, very much." He finished off, watching the way you were silent throughout. "I understand if you don't want me around so I'll stop trying." He retreated back.

Okay, this is it. You wanted to this all along, right?

Why do you feel the sudden urge to stop him... fuck it!

"Aren't you going to listen what I have to say?"

He paused, hand lingering on the door knob as he turned around, watching as you slowly remove yourself from bed. You were currently wearing a loose shirt and a low pants. Jisung gulped nervously as you began to get closer to him.

"Do you really mean that?" You asked, voice cracking slightly.

Jisung's brows rose as he let out a soft scoff, "Every word."

"And you're not doing this because you feel bad." You tilted your head in suspicion, eyes squinting as you try to detect a lie. "Well, that's part of it."

"But it's mostly because I don't want to lose you. I really care about you."

That seemed to be the answer that you were looking for because after those words left his lips, you reached up on your tippy toes and smashed your lips against his. His eyes widened slightly and for a moment, his lips didn't seem to react and he stood still in shock. You were beginning to regret doing that as he was being unresponsive, wanting nothing more than to cower away in embarassment but just as you pulled away from him slightly, he began to chase after you. His hands had gotten hold at the back of your neck, pulling you into a deep kiss as his other one made its way to your waist.

This time, he nibbled your bottom lip and didn't hesitate to shove his tongue deep into your mouth. You moaned at the contact as you gripped onto his shirt, your legs were struggling to meet the ground due to his height. Fortunately, he took noticed and tapped on your thighs, signalling you to jump and you did. Wrapping your legs tightly around his waist as his hands securely groped your ass to maintain the balance, he began walking towards the bed all while giving kisses from your chin down to your neck, licking and sucking it.

Laying you down under the soft duvet covers, he began trailing down his kisses to your collarbone. Just as he was about to remove your article of clothing, he looked up to meet your eyes, silently asking you if you were okay with continuing.

"Yes." You breathed out, whimpering when he roamed his hands around your breast, his warms fingers rubbed against your hardened nipples which cause you to moan loudly.

You covered your mouth almost immediately. Jisung took your hands away and replaced with his mouth instead, swallowing your noises as his hands played with your breast.

"You gotta be quiet, princess." He whispered, his lips hovered against yours, you were lying if you said that nickname didn't make you feel something inside, "Or else you're gonna wake someone up. Wouldn't want that happening would you?"

You shook your head, your hand holding onto his shirt as you begged him, "Please, I'll be quiet. Just do something."

He laughed at your neediness and began removing your shorts, along with your panties. What he saw didn't disappoint him as he could see your glistening cunt out in the open, his mouth watering to get a savouring taste. Without warning, he gave kitty licks at your pussy, and you shuddered under his touch, legs wrapped around his face, almost suffocating him. But the male above you didn't seem to mind as he only pushed his face further into you, his long slender finger pried open your hole to shove his tongue deeper.

"A-Ah, Jisung." You quietly moaned, "I'm gonna cum."

That seemed to encourage the male to go faster, lifting your hips up as he began eating you out like a starved man.

Feeling the familiar orgasm, you shut your eyes as you covered your mouth, preventing the erotic sounds from escaping. You felt a sudden fuzziness over the immense feeling that you didn't notice that Jisung had taken off his clothes as well.

"You did so well, princess." He praised, hand gently caressing your fuck-out face. "Think you can handle more?"

You nodded eagerly, whining when he pulled away slightly.

"I need words, baby." He said, "Tell me you want this."

"Please, Jisung. I want this." You whined, "I want you."

He pressed his lips against you once more, your hand immediately went to wrap around his neck to pull him closer. Getting indulged in the messy kiss, you were yelped in shock when he began to rub his cock onto yours.

Jisung stopped when he noticed your state, but you only whined further, your hips bucking against his boner, begging him to fill you up, which only made the male continue his previous actions.

"Wait, Jisung." You said, which cause him to look up at you. "Can you please hold my hand?"

His heart softened at your request. Despite the abnormal amount of sex the both of you had, this was one that was undeniably the most intimate that the both of you went. You were always used to rough and angry sex with Jisung but this time, it was full of love and passion. It felt like the both of you were pouring your heart out into this. And for that, you were nervous because you were now able to express yourself in a way that you've always wanted to with Jisung.

And for the first time, he reciprocated those feelings.

So as he held tightly onto your small hands, interlocking them. He began to pick up his pace, thrusting more faster each second as he stared lovingly into your eyes. Feeling a sudden wave of insecurity wash through you by the intense gaze, you looked away in embarassment. But that only seemed to disappoint the male as he let go one of his hold on your hand and gently tilted your face to meet his. Offering a warm smile, he kissed you once more, washing away all your worries as the both of you engage in the sloppy kisses. His tongue coaxed against yours as his thrust began to pick up its pace, bringing the both of you to your orgasms.

Letting out muffled moans, the both of felt the feeling of euphoria when you came undone. Your lips lazily moved against his and he pulled away. You whined at the sudden contact and Jisung couldn't help but laugh at your cuteness.

Walking away towards the bathroom that was thankfully connected to the bedroom as he announced that he needed to clean you up.

You laid back down comfortably, you felt like your heart was bursting as you let the scene repeat itself on your mind, giddiness consumed you as you covered yourself under the blanket.

Soon, Jisung came in with a cloth in hand. Gently, the male urged you to open your legs as he began cleaning you up. The cold breeze of the cloth made you shiver. Once he was done, he helped you with your clothes, slowly positioning you so that you would be able to wear your clothes.

With that, he made his way to his clothes that he threw across the room and began putting them on before making his way towards the bed, cuddling by your side as the both of you faced each other. His face buried at the crook of your neck.

"We need to keep this a secret." He pulled away slightly, after a moment of comfortable silence.

"What? Why?" You felt your heart breaking, feeling the moment being completely ruined.

He sighed, "He still thinks I'm having a fling with NingNing."

"Well, are you?"

"Of course not!" He asked incredulously, "How could you think that?"

"Well, what's the problem then?" You couldn't help but get annoyed at where the topic was heading.

"Chenle will kill me." There it was.

"Chenle doesn't control what we do." You said disappointedly. "Are you embarassed of me?"

"No! No, of course not." Jisung caressed your face, making you face him. The look he had in his eyes made you soften your gaze, the anger you felt slowly dissipitating when you heard the sincerity in his words. "Look, I'll deal with this as soon as I can, just in the meantime, can we pretend as if we're not together."

You looked away, but he kept his grip on your chin, forcing to face him as he pleaded. "Please, I swear I'll try to work this out."

"Okay." You sighed, and that was when he leaned down to give you a passionate kiss.

"Thank you."

"But how do you know he won't like it though?" You pulled away.

"So, I'm guessing whatever rift you have with my sister is over?" Chenle spoke up, his gaze focused on the screen as he continued to play the game.

"What?"

"You heard me," Chenle laughed, "Whatever you guys have must be pretty intense but I guess I'm glad you made up."

(More like make out.)

"Just a question, do you like her?" Chenle asked, his tone suddenly turning serious.

This was it. This will be the moment he gets to tell him the whole truth. He was about to answer when Chenle spoke up again.

"Because if you, I'll literally beat your fucking ass." Chenle laughed, smacking Jisung at the back of the head.

Or not.

Jisung let out a nervous chuckle, "Of course not, idiot."

"Good. Good." Chenle hummed, "So, maybe you should set boundaries with her, wouldn't want to give her the wrong idea."

"I just know." Jisung said firmly.

SUNDAY.

The morning light shine through the curtains, awakening you as you toss to your side, stretching your arms. You can't help but feel a twinge of disappointment when you couldn't feel anything beside you, realising that Jisung was not by your side and that he had left. You let his words replay at the back of your mind.

We need to keep this a secret.

You just hoped that it wouldn't backfire on you as you let out a loud sigh, walking towards the bathroom to freshen up.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you were already greeted by breakfast that your grandmother had cooked, Chenle and Jisung were already feasting as if it was their last meal.

"You guys couldn't even wait for me." You grumbled, taking a seat across Jisung.

You smiled softly at the boy, a blush appearing on your cheek as you tried to remain calm.

"It's not our fault you slept like a pig."

Chenle rolled his eyes.

"At least I don't eat like one."

He only stuck his tongue out in mockery, which you returned back with the same gesture, causing the male beside him to chuckle at your childish bickering.

Your grandmother, took a seat beside you as she gave both of you a light scolding about behaving.

Minutes passed with light chattering across the dining and while in admist of eating, a devious plan came to your mind. Slowly lifting your feet, you let it wander around Jisung's legs, rubbing it up and down while you ate your meal, acting as if you weren't doing anything. Jisung tensed at the action, stopping his words as he let out a huge gulp, discreetly glancing at you. You, however, didn't pay no mind to the male as you continued munching on your food innocently.

It went on for a few minutes before you decided to test the waters some more, opting to trail your feet nearer to his crotch, which made him choke on his food.

"Yo, Ji. You, okay there?" Your brother called out, patting the other's back.

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine."

"Is the food not to your liking?" Your grandmother asked, concern laced in her voice.

"No!" He interjected, "No, of course not! I love your cooking." He let out a nervous chuckle before turning to face you, glaring into your eyes as if he was warning you. Deciding to push his buttons, you pressed your feet against his crotch and began rubbing it in a circular motion, which causes the male to let out a quiet groan. Hand to his head as his forehead started to sweat. This only encourages you to apply more pressure, feeling his clothed area, which has now hardened.

"Dude, are you seriously okay?" Chenle asked, to which the male have no choice but to lie to save himself, "Yeah, I think I'm having a bit of a headache actually." He groaned, lifting his hips up to meet your feet, pretending as if he was readjusting his position.

"Do you need some medicine?" Your grandmother stood up, "I have some in the cabinet."

You watched as Jisung nodded, his body hunched over as if he was trying to control himself. His orgasm nearing as he felt like he eas losing his sanity. You smirked before deciding that he has had enough, drawing back your feet.

Jisung was glad that it took everything for him to not make a noise at the lost of contact, practically leaving him with blue balls all while trying to cover up the fact that his best friend's sister had just rubbed him off under the dining table.

He watched in anger as you excused yourself from the table, walking towards the kitchen as you briefly announced that you were going to head to the bathroom, he saw the way your eyes twinge with mischief, a smug smile placed on your lips as you walked past him. He was forced to stay behind longer to avoid suspicion, downing the pill that your grandma had so graciously handed as he pretended that he was getting better.

Score!

A minute or so in the bathroom, you heard a knock outside, you smile in victory as you knew who it was going to be. Just as you creaked open the door, it was pushed harshly as Jisung shoved his way inside, locking it on the way in. Not giving you the time to react as he smashed his lips against yours hungrily.

"You think that way funny, huh?" He huffed, pulling away from the kiss. "Do you know how much I could get in trouble?"

You shrugged innocently.

"Why don't you punish me then?"

"Just you wait." He said, trailing his kisses down your collarbone, teeth grazing your flesh as you hummed in satistaction.

Just as you were about to rip off his shirt, he grabbed your hands as he turned you around. Your back against his chest as your front was pressed up against the door. His hands coming up to hold your throat, forcing you to face him.

"Jisung, please hurr— ah!" You moaned when the male began spanking your backside, his hand groped against it harshly.

"You're in no position to demand." He sneered, moving his hands to the front of your shorts as he pulled them down hastily, making a move to roll up your shirt.

"No bra?" He tsked, which caused you to whimper when he began pinching your nipples. "That's good, makes it easier instead of ripping them off."

Without warning, he began shoving his two long index fingers down your wet cunt, you squirmed under his touch but his other hand went to hold your mouth, blocking the noises from escaping. He lowered his face to your breast, swirling his tongue around your nipples as he looked up to see your fucked-out face, observing the drool that dripped down your chin, that was also making his fingers wet. He loved seeing you get ruined so he quickened the pace, fastening his fingers as his mouth works wonders on your tits.

"I'm gonna come!" You whimpered, "Please, let me cum!"

Thankfully, your pleads were enough for him as he let you finish out your orgasm, watching the way your body spasmed under his touch.

Without giving you a chance to breathe, he turned you back around and held your shoulders, pulling you down to your knees. Understanding his signals, you began unzipping his pants and pulling out his hardened cock. He grabbed a fistful of your hair and forced you into his cock, watching the way your mouth sucks in his length with such ease. He groaned, which made you bobbed your head faster, tongue swirling around his dick.

"Y-Yeah! Just like that." He threw his head back, hand controlling your movements, "Don't stop! Ah!"

Unfortunately, odds were not in Jisung's favour today because just as he was about to release, he heard knocking on the other side of the door. Panic sets in as he wanted to pull you away, but you had stubbornly wrapped your hands around his hips, your mouth taking his whole.

"Y-Yes?"

"Yo, dude!" Chenle called out, "Are you in there? 'Cause you need to hurry up and pack your stuff. Our flight is in the next 2 hours!"

"Ah! Gotcha—oh!" He groaned.

"Are you taking a shit in there?" Chenle asked incredulously.

"Y-eah," Jisung didn't miss a beat. "My stomach's sensitive today— fuck!" That seemed to be enough of an answer because your brother didn't pry further, instead saying, "Alright. If you see my sister anywhere, relay that message I said earlier. I can't find her in the room."

"Mhm, w-will do!" He heard footsteps walking away, which nade him lean his head back against the wooden door.

And that is when he felt himself release his load in your mouth, you swallowing his cum with lust in your eyes. Lifting you up, the both of you shared one last kiss before rushing to clean off, hoping that Chenle wouldn't notice anything.

MONDAY.

"I told Hyunjin to stop bringing girl to the dorm because he always gets too loud in bed." Seungmin complained, "It's so awkward the next morning too!"

"Uhuh."

He eyed you, watching as you were distracted with something on your mind, "And then, the girl ask for a threesome so I did it with both of them, outside the balcony." He lied, watching as you didn't perk up at his bizzare story.

"Cool." You said off-handedly.

"So, I'm assuming that it went not so well." Seungmin observed, watching as you zooned out on him, which causes the male to snap his hands in front of you.

"What?"

"Nevermind." He scoffed playfully, "Seems like you have a lot on your plate.

"You have no idea." You laughed nervously. "I'm sorry."

"It's alright." He laughed, "I don't blame you. We're barely given any breaks, it's driving me crazy too." You nodded, humming to his words as the both of you walked around campus.

"If you want, we can hang out by th—"

Before the male could finish his sentence, he was cut off by another person making their way towards the both of you. Jisung's arms wrapped around you tightly as he basically pulled you away from the other.

"Hi." Jisung greeted the both of you, though he was only keeping his gaze on you and completely ignoring the other.

"Hey."

After the trip, you had become well-aware of Jisung's hatred towards Seungmin, which was purely out of jealousy. So it came to no suprise that the said boy would suddenly appear between the two of you in the middle of the hallway, squeezing his way to maintain the space and slightly shoving the brown-haired boy. Despite his rudeness, Seungmin was never one to retaliate or confront the other as he was mainly looking at your reaction, to see if you were okay with what's happening and upon seeing your lack of discomfort, Seungmin could only assume that you were back together with Jisung and as much as he tried to remain optimistic for you, he lacked trust for the taller male.

So as he watched Jisung dragged you away while you uttered your goodbye to him, he can't help but dislike the fact that you were willing to go back to Jisung, considering all the things he had done. He didn't want to verbalise his concern as he knew it would upset you so he sighed in defeat, walking towards his lecture.

On the other hand, a string of complaints escaped from your mouth as Jisung's hand were tightly held onto your wrist, dragging you towards a random supply closet. However, your words were cut short when he smashed his lips onto yours, silencing you all while letting his wandering hands trail down below your private area, his lips moving along your jawline. You smiled, secretly liking his jealously.

"Might want to make it quick." You mumbled against his lips, "Or else Chenle might look for you." Your eyes landed on his ringing phone, his best friend calling him in the middle of his situation. The male didn't hesitate to press the decline button before tossing it to the other side of the room, mumbling, "Let's not worry about that."

And that was a week spent fooling around. You would have assumed that you kept it on a low profile but you were proven dead wrong when you were caught smiling to yourself on your phone while your friends shared knowing glances among themselves.

"You seem so giddy recently." Chaeryeong pointed out. "Are you seeing someone?"

Sitting there, you were stunned with the question, snapping out of trance as you cleared your throat, shifting in your seat awkwardly.

"No."

"Oh, she totally is!" Yunjin teased, "Who's the lucky guy?" You denied further, "No one." Which only causes the both of them to only pry oncr more, whining exaggeratedly to get the answer out of you. "Please, we really want to know!"

You laughed at their childish nature and for a moment, there was a brief hesitation as you contemplated whether you should air out your situation to them about Jisung. You knew the both of them disliked the male for what he did, but maybe after a logical explanation, they might undertand.

So that is what you did, you began to explain in details of what went down during the trip to your grandma's house and you watched as their smiles contorted into frowns, you ignored it thinking that the both of them were just being attentive as you continued on with your story.

"What?" Both of them said in unison, incredulously.

"It's serious, this time." You repeated.

"Yeah, we heard that the first time." Chaeryeong scoffed, "But this is Jisung we're talking about."

You sighed, knowing that the two of them still hated his guts no matter what and were now reprimanding you for your actions, you slumped against the seat, the mood of the atmosphere completely being lifted down.

"Are we talking about the same person here?"

"Look, it looks messy but I promise he's changed." You justified, once again.

"So, you guys are in a public relationship." Chaeryeong rebutted.

"Well, not exact—"

"I knew it!" Yunjin lifted up her hands in irritation. "Girl, he's just using you again and you fell for it!"

"That's not true!"

"How blind could you be?" Chaeryeong scolded.

You scoffed.

"Okay, you guys can stop attacking for me now. I really don't need it."

"Right, 'cause it seems like you need to be fucked over by someone multiple times for you to get it." Chaeryeong retaliated.

"Chae—" Yunjin intervened but was shut down by you, "No, let her finish. I want to hear what she has to say next."

"You let Jisung fuck you over because you have no self-respect for yourself!"

Silence filled the table for a moment as none of them were making an attempt to say anything else.

"You know what? Fuck you guys!" You stormed off, grabbing your belongings as you leave the place in anger.

To be concerned is one thing, but to go out of their way to imply that you were easy is a little harsh. Though, you could tell that it was in the heat of the moment considering that Chaeryeong's eyes widened for a second, completely baffled with what she had just said too. She knew she went too far but she couldn't bring herself to apologise, not when you were out here making stupid decisions and being reckless with your behaviour. She hoped that she hadn't pushed you away with her words.

But it seems like it has.

Because pushing the weeks in, you had not said a single thing to any of them, completely ignoring them as you opted to hang out with Seungmin and his friends instead. To say that Yunjin and Chaeryeong were upset was an understatement, the both of them were hurt that you would dropped them for a boy who had caused you emotional damage. Though, Yunjin understood your side and had asked Chaeryeong to apologise and make amends. But the other refused as she was being hard-headed.

The friendship between the three of you started to crack and as much as it pained you, you couldn't possibly bring yourself to face them as you were left upset with their harsh words. To be fair, Yunjin didn't contribute much, but you were still upset at both iof them nonetheless. Even Jisung had started to notice your sour demeanour, from the way you would seem down and distracted while he tried his best to lift up your mood, making sweet gestures and playing the role of a caring boyfriend. Of course, in secrecy when no one is around.

As much as you appreciated it, you can't help but get annoyed when he would blow you off for his friends, or rather, your brother. It seems as though he hasn't made an attempt to tell Chenle about your relationship despite being constantly reminded to, you would have to convince him that Chenle would be okay with it, but the male only shook his head and tells you that he would try to deal with it as soon as he can, in his own way. That had been the usual pattern and you were getting kinda worried that your friends might've been right all along. Though, you had to give him the benefit of the doubt, considering that he had told one of his friends about you, which was Haechan, who honestly didn't look too suprise with the news but ultimately helped the younger keep your relationship a secret.

"Ugh, dude seriously?" Haechan groaned, having had just opened the door, witnessing you straddling Jisung while the both of you make out. "We seat on that couch!"

He watched in amusement as the both of you broke away quickly. You were topless, panickingly trying to find your clothes while Jisung's face was smudged with lipstick, fixing his zipper in a hurry. "Can't you knock!" Jisung looked annoyed.

The older scoffed, leaning against the door frame, "As a matter of fact, I can't. You're lucky I was the one walking in on you guys."

"Still!" You retaliated, fixing yourself up.

"Whatever," He rolled his eyes, "Mark and Chenle are on their way here, I had to sprint to get here first so you better thank my ass that I did!"

True to his words because not even a second later, your brother and his other roommate emerged inside the dorm, shocked displayed on their faces when they have discovered you were inside as well.

"Sis? What are you doing here?" Chenle asked incredulously.

"I need to take notes from Jisung." You made up an excuse, getting ready to pack your stuff. "Don't you have your other friends for that?" Your brother rebutted.

"Chill, dude." Haechan patted the younger's back. "If I hadn't known better, you seem like you got a crush on Jisung." He joked, which causes Chenle to hit the older by the shoulder, smacking him relentlessly while his roommates laughed.

"Alright, that's enough." Mark jokingly intervened, "We have to set up this place as soon as we can."

That seemed to caught your attention.

"Why? What are you guys doing?"

"None of your business, nosy." Chenle retorted.

"We're having a party." Mark answered instead, "The boys made a draw and it's our turn to host the party."

"Oh." You looked towards Jisung, confused as to why he didn't tell you. "Yeah, so if you don't mind, can you leave and come back again once we're done." Chenle said, making his way to his room, Mark and Haechan following behind.

"Why didn't you tell me?" You asked, now that it was just you two. He shrugged, "It's not a big deal. It's just some stupid party."

"Okay then." You said monotonously, walking away.

But Jisung seemed to pick up on your mood, following you close behind.

"No, wait, baby." He grabbed your wrist, turning you around, "Why are you upset?"

"I'm upset because you always keep secrets from me and we were supposed to hang out tonight. Were you just gonna bail me last minute?" You asked in annoyance but the male shook his head, "No, of course not. I wasn't even planning to stay. I'm just helping them set up."

You laughed, "As if Chenle would let you bail."

"I'll try to sneak out."

You hesitated.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Of course."

You should've known not to be easily led on, especially when Jisung hadn't picked up his calls despite it being hours ago. You shrugged it off, thinking he was still busy but you soon came to find Haechan's instagram story, a picture where all of them were partying in their dorm, including Jisung.

You were boiling from anger, "Seungmin, can you do me a favour?"

Thankfully, the drive wasn't far, and Seungmin had been kind enough to give you a ride as you made your way to the party. For some reason, a part of you had a feeling this wouldn't end well but you decided to push it aside as you walked towards the front door. You were immediately greeted by a stench of alcohol, drunk people swaying around as you hear cheering from a distance. Walking towards the noise in search for your boyfriend as Seungmin trailed behind you, gulping nervously at your hot-headed demeanour.

There stood, Jisung, a hand holding a ping pong ball while he stuck his tongue out in concentration, eyes squinting to get a good aim for the red solo cup. For a moment, it seemed harmless and you would've felt a bit embarassed for overreacting but when the cheering became louder as Jisung scored a point, you couldn't help but stay rooted on your spot, eyes focused on Jisung as his friends cheered him on with a pat to his back.

Just then, NingNing came into view and pulled the male by the neck to plant a kiss to his lips, wolf whistles followed after and you could've swore that you heard your heart shattered in the process. You watched as tears rolled down your eyes, betrayal in the pit of your stomach as Jisung looked stunned, not making an attempt to pull away.

Conveniently, right as he did, his eyes landed onto yours and you saw how his eyes widened in shock, mouth hung open as if he was trying to come up with an excuse.

You scoffed and began walking away, ignoring the calls of your name as Jisung squeezed his way between the crowds of drunkard people.

"Wait!" Jisung grabbed your arm, stopping you just as had gotten outside. "I can explain—"

You ripped his hand away in disgust, "No need. You made things perfectly clear back there."

He called your name again in desperation.

"Please, just hear me out."

"No!" You shouted, "I'm sick of being treated like an idiot."

"I'll admit, you fooled me once. It was on you." You laughed bitterly, "But you did it again and again, so now, I can't even blame you. Because I am such a fucking idiot to believe you would have changed."

"I have!"

"No, you haven't!" You retorted, "You don't care about me because all you ever do is come to me whenever you need to fill out your desires, you are fucking selfish!"

"Please." He whispered, urgency laced in his tone.

"I should've never trusted you and I'm dead serious when I say I want you to leave me the fuck alone now."

He took a step forward, hand holding your wrist desperately, "No, I can fix—"

"I don't want anything to do with you, Jisung!" You pulled away.

"Please. Please, I'm really sorry!" He grabbed you again, pleads and begs as strings of apologies escaped his mouth.

"I don't care!"

"It was a mistake. I have no feel—"

"She told you to back off!" Ultimately, it was Seungmin who had cutted him off, shoving the other to the ground.

Jisung stood up in anger, red in the face. "Why don't you mind your goddamn business!"

"She made it pretty clear she wants nothing to do with you, man! Respect that!" He spits, which only frustates Jisung, scoffing lightly as he provoked, "You know she doesn't fucking like you, right? You've been stuck in the friendzone for like what? 3 months? Wished it was you who gets to fuck her instead, huh?"

"Guys, let's not—" You intervened, but it was too late because Seungmin threw the first punch. Blood dripping on Jisung's nose as you gasped in horror, the male didn't seem too affected with the attack as he tackled Seungmin to the ground, beating him up relentlessly. You stood in shock as you begged them to stop, tears streaming down your cheeks as Seungmin began kicking Jisung's ribs. The whole scene became a mess.

Eventually, the commotion caught the attention of the other people from the party because soon, Chenle and Haechan began pulling both men away from each other, struggling to hold then down.

"Hey! What the fuck is happening?" Chenle looked at you, "What did you do?"

"You should probably ask your friend." Seungmin answered. "He was the one who fucked over your sister!"

Multiple gasps were heard, others watching as the scene unfolds.

Chenle face contorted to confusion as he turned to face the taller male, "What is he talking about Ji?" But the male didn't respond, his head hung low in shame as Seungmin chuckled humourlessly, "Your friend has been fucking your sister behind your back for months, using her and all that shit but I'm sure Ji over there will explain it to you better."

"Is it true?" Chenle asked in anger, taking a step towards Jisung, which causes Haechan to stop him, "Let's not start anything more, alright?"

"Why?" Chenle prodded, "Do you know about it?" This causes the older to become silent, only confirming what was his answer.

Thankfully, Mark came in and kicked everyone out, making them disperse away from the scene and soon, all of the three boys were left in their messy dorm, having had Seungmin dragged your sobbing mess away, making Jisung the one to explain what he had done.

"This is fucked." Chenle laughed in astonishment. "I mean, not only did you went behind my back but you hurt my sister in the process of doing so."

Jisung could only hung his head in shame.

"I didn't mean to." He meekly uttered.

"But you did!" Chenle yelled, "I've always wondered why she was so obsessed with you but the whole time you were fucking with her mind and making her think she had a chance with you!"

"I didn't fuck with her mind, I love her, okay?" Jisung blurted. "I thought I would do the right thing if— if I just, i don't know! I knew you wouldn't approve of us anyways!"

"Don't fucking twist this shit on me!" Chenle snarled, "Even if you knew I wouldn't approve, why the fuck did you still do it? What was the thought process there? How fucking stupid are you to think you would get away with all this!"

"Dude, let's all calm down, alright." Mark decided to step in, which only causes the younger to get upset.

"No! Don't tell me to calm down." He yelled, causing Mark to take a step back. "He used two people for his own selfishness! Including my sister."

"Don't even get me started on NingNing, you know, the girl you told us you were in love with." He pushed on.

"I wasn't fucking in love with her!" Jisung retaliated, "I only said that so you could get off my fucking back about hooking up with other girls!"

A shocked gasp was heard, just then NingNing made her presence known as a tear drop began to fall down her cheeks, cupping her mouth as she ran away out of their dorm.

"NingNing!"

"Look what you did!" Chenle scolded, running after the poor girl.

But Jisung couldn't say anything, his mouth went dry and his heart went numb. Too many emotions running through his head, it started to hurt. Mark and Haechan took noticed of the younger's condition and decided that he needed some time to think for himself and soon the both of them left the dorm, leaving Jisung all alone.

In all the times he had fucked up, this was really the one he had fucked up the most.

Walking around campus, it was the first time Jisung had gotten stares from people. The huge bruise on his face didn't help the fact that most of the people on campus already knew what went down. At this point, he couldn't bring himself to care as he continued to let his head down while walking through the crowd.

However, just as he past by the entrace, he was greeted by certain girl. His heart dropped in anxiousness as he gulped upon seeing the girl he was scared to face, cowardly as he was, he knew that he should own up to his mistakes and take accountablity.

It's now or never.

"Hi." He said, clearing his throat. "I'm sor—"

"Save it." The girl replied sharply.

Jisung couldn't bring himself to look into her eyes, shame and guilt filling him up as he lowered his head. "Let's talk." NingNing checked her wristwatch, "We still have time to spare before our lecture starts."

"O-Of course, if it's what you like." The girl scoffed at his timidness, "Oh please, this is painful for me as much as it is for you but I think I deserve some explanation, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Great, I know a private place to talk because the campus seems so nosy than ever." She joked ligheartedly, eyes darting around the hall. Truth be told because when Jisung turned his head, he saw other students quickly glancing away as he did so, ‟Follow me.”

It has been days and you were still bombarded with texts and calls, all coming from the same person. The same person that you couldn't bring yourself to remove from. It was frustating how pathetic you would be for a boy. A boy that fooled you twice. At this rate, you were only asking for more heartbreak as your only solution is to ignore those calls and messages instead of blocking it completely. Your heart wouldn‛t be able to handle such an emotional turmoil.

You hadn't been able to attend your lectures, skipping them in order to avoid Jisung. You could hear your roommate telling him to go away whenever he would knock on the door, begging to see you. Overtime, Yunjin and Chaeryeong took empathy at your state and offered you solace as the both of them apologised for their harsh words previously. With their help, you were able to slowly get back to your feet and continue to move forward. Though, it was slightly challenging whenever the male would still attempt to talk to you through texts and calls, all of which you ignored.

But maybe that was what you needed. You thought.

As your hand lingers around the ‘block’ button, you began to feel the slight hesitation. Though, a part of you was aching for it, practically begging you to end the trainwreck once and for all.

And this time, you weren‛t going to look back.

FOUR YEARS LATER.

Heels clicking against the marble floor, you were in frantic as you rushed around the wedding halls to make your way to back of the room. Droplets of sweat on your forehead as you sighed in relief, thankful to have arrived early to help the bride.

‟Well, guess who showed up on time.” The bride teased.

Looking at the bride, her hair was beautifully done up into an elegant low bun as her dress was beautifully tailored, shining her features with the expensive jewellery displayed. The bridesmaids gushed upon her ethereal appearance and you gave yourself a pat on the back for helping out with the choices.

‟I‛m really sorry, NingNing.” You rambled, rushing to her side. "Traffic was crazy today but I bought you a donut because I know you didn't eat anything this morning."

‟Thank you.” She smiled.

‟Are you ready?”

‟Of course I am.” She looked at you worriedly, ‟You‛re really okay with all of this?”

‟Are you crazy?" You deadpanned, "Why wouldn‛t I be?”

‟Maybe because she expected you to freak out.” Yunjin chimed in, ‟I mean, I‛m even suprise you‛re okay with it.”

‟It‛s all in the past, anyways.” You waved off, ‟Plus, we‛re going to be sister-in-laws!”

Three years ago, Chenle and NingNing had began hitting it off. After the night that NingNing heart went broken by his best friend, Chenle consoled her and offered her comfort. It wasn't as sudden as it seems because the both of them didn't gain feeling until a year later, having had been friends first and eventually grew closer. This news hadn't shocked his whole friend group though since their not-so-subtle flirting was as obvious as broad daylight.

Eventually, you had began seeing NingNing often in family gatherings when Chenle were to invite her into one. If you were being honest, through the initial start, it was awkward and tense between the two of you but eventually, you managed to put that aside and NingNing had became one of your close friends. You would occasionally steal her away from Chenle and make her hang out with your friends instead.

Which was why, when Chenle and NingNing had announced their engagement, NingNing had given you the title of 'maid-of-honour' when it was around the time the both of them have planned for their wedding. You were up and arms, in tears of happiness for the couple.

You couldn't have been more content for them.

Though, that meant that you would have to see an expected guest, in which Cenle had informed you beforehand and made sure you were okay with it.

To be completely honest, after blocking his number, you hadn't heard much of him. After graduation, you saw him approaching you but you ultimately shut him down, ignoring his presence and you hadn't seen him since. According to Chenle, he chose to travel abroad for his job in Osaka and although you were shattered with the news, you knew it was for the better as it would be easier for you to move on.

And that was the last time you saw him.

Fast forward as you let out a nervous breath, having had those years being away to finally being able to see him. You didn't know whether you should be excited or nervous.

You watched as NingNing walked across the aisle, holding onto her father as she suppressed her tears of happiness. You looked over towards your brother, watching as he too, held back his tears. Usually, you would've teased him for being emotional but you couldn't help but feel the warmth in your heart as the both of them have finally found love in each other.

As you scanned the wedding halls, your eyes landed onto a familiar pair of eyes. Your heart stopped for a moment as your breath hitched, watching as Jisung stared back at you. A look that you couldn't quite put a finger on.

"It's all good now, Jisung." NingNing assured, "I just thought you liked me from the way Chenle seemed to hype you up."

"Yeah, I'm sorry for leading you on." He apologised, following NingNing as the both of them walked through the empty hallways.

"Jisung, can you do me a favour?" She spoke up, "Stop apologising." She joked.

"Yeah, man." Chenle suddenly appeared, "It's getting annoying."

"Chen—"

"See you later, NingNing." He waved off.

NingNing only winked back as she made her way inside her lecture.

A moment of silence passed by, and Jisung swore he felt more nervous than ever, coming up ways to figure out what he was going to say.

"If you want to say something." Chenle interrupted, "Just say it, the silence is killing me."

"I'm sorry, Chenle." The male uttered, for a moment Chenle looked over in pity at Jisung, watching how distraught he looked. "You know, I was ready to beat you up next." He started, "But if you were really honest from the start, I would've understood you better."

"I'm just upset that you didn't trust me enough to tell me."

"I'm sorry— ow! Fuck!" Jisung shouted as the other smacked his face harshly, "What was that for?"

"Stop apologising, it's annoying."

"I— dude, I wasn't even going to say it!" He rubbed his other cheek that Chenle had slapped, glaring as Chenle offered him a smug smile. "I know."

He rolled his eyes.

"But in all seriousness." Jisung spoke up, "I really fucked up so is there any way I can make this up?"

Chenle seemed to think about it for a moment, rubbing his chin, "Well, there is one."

"If you like my sister, just go for it. You have my approval this time."

As you watched the both of them exchange their wedding vows, cheers emitted the wedding halls as the newly-wed couple shared a loving kiss. Your eyes scanned back to the crowd.

"Just go." Chaeryeong ushered, "We'll cover you up."

You smiled, thanking her before you quickly rushed off, politely pushing out relatives as you tried to find the black-haired boy.

Just then, you bumped into a certain someone. Looking up, you were suddenly greeted with Seungmin. His warm smile reached his lips as he greeted you.

"Seungmin. You came." You said in shocked.

"Yeah, couldn't miss this out."

Truth be told, Seungmin had confessed his feelings for you a few years ago, to which you had rejected him politely. You would've assumed that would caused some damages to your friendship but he was respectful with your decisions and still remained friends, keeping in touch even after graduation.

"Babe?" A voice suddenly called out, Seungmin turned around, "Hey, this is the maid-of-honour, I was talking about." He turned towards you, uttering your name as he introduced you to his girlfriend.

"It's nice to meet you but I have to go." You said as friendly as you could, not wanting to appear rude.

Seungmin gave you a knowing look.

"Jisung's right by the bar."

You thanked him as you squeezed your way, trying your best to not seemed to eager to see him. As you approached his figure, his back was turned towards you and you hesitated to call out to him.

Hesitantly, you tapped on his back and you watched as he turned around slowly. It seemed as if time had slowed down, as clichè as it sounds, because when you stared longingly into those eyes, it brings back fond memories and deep down, you knew that your feelings for him would never fade, no matter how hard you try to deny it. You wished that the moment would last for eternity. You were relieved when you could see the way he looked back at you lovingly, saying a million thoughts behind those eyes, the thought of which that he had still held those feeling for you just as dearly.

"Hi." You said breathlessly, still in trance.

"Hi." He chuckled, "It's been awhile, do you want to catch up?"

Were you willing to take that chance again?

©ruwriteshours

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bosbas · 1 year ago

Text

Chapter 5: I don't want you like a best friend

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: benedict bridgerton x best friend!fem!reader WC: 3.8k words

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love being idiots in love, angst, sexual tension, miscommunication (ish), benedict bridgerton being an idiot, anthony being a slayer in response

Summary: You and Benedict have been best friends since childhood, but things change dramatically once you come out in society. You’re struggling to find someone you’re as compatible with and who knows you as well as Benedict, all while trying to quell your ever-growing feelings for him. Shenanigans ensue.

May 26, 1814 - Word has it that Benedict Bridgerton has returned from his mysterious disappearance to the countryside and was seen at White's with the Beaumont twins last night.

But more interestingly, the second Bridgerton brother was spotted with a certain Miss Y/N Beaumont about the town getting flavored ice in the growing summer heat, with Miss Beaumont appearing notably more joyous with him than during her interactions with other gentlemen she met at the Cowper Ball. While not privy to the intricacies of this friendship, this author does wonder whether Mr Bridgerton's newfound reappearance in the ton will affect Miss Beaumont's standing in the social season. Will suitors be too intimidated to pursue her? Though this matter might prove irrelevant, as Mr Bridgerton might decide to pursue Miss Beaumont himself...

Once again, you found yourself amidst the flurry of commotion that marked the afternoon before a ball. Only this time, you felt considerably less nervous knowing you had Benedict's company to look forward to. This would be your first time seeing him at a ball, dancing together outside the confines of either of your homes. You were quite accustomed to dancing with him. Both sets of your parents had been eager to teach their children the art of dancing, resulting in frequent informal post-dinner dancing lessons where you, more often than not, were paired off with Benedict. And you weren't complaining. He was a magnificent dancer, and you found you could just let go and allow him to take the lead while the two of you waltzed. Instead, you could focus on the feel of his steady hands on your waist, the handsome smile he cast down at you, or the shivers that ran up your spine when he would lean down to whisper something in your ear. Perhaps you were used to dancing with him, but that did not make it any less enjoyable.

Which is why you found yourself unable to keep still, excitedly humming and squirming around in the carriage bound for the Featherington residence. It was like your debut all over again, you thought, but with Ben being the only person who would be seeing you come out for the first time.

"Y/N, that's quite enough!" exclaimed Theo, clearly fed up with your antsy behavior. "Whatever is the matter? We are almost there; are you truly incapable of sitting still for a few more minutes?"

You glared at your older brother, choosing to ignore his comment but stilling your movements nonetheless. You were more than aware that Theo and Bastian were all but dragged to tonight's event by your mother, the pair being less than enthusiastic about attending a ball the very day they returned from their hunting trip, but you were not bothered one bit. If you had to go out and look for a husband ball after ball, they should, at the very least, be forced to be there as well. You envied their position in society, under no pressure to marry so soon and with complete freedom to do whatever they wanted, really. Your own literary pursuits were under somewhat of a time constraint unless you managed to find a suitable husband who would allow you the freedom to continue them, which was becoming increasingly unlikely as the season continued. Despite your mother's comforting words, assuring you that you did not have to marry this season, you honestly wondered how helpful another season would be if it was as fruitless as this one. You reasoned that you might just have to settle for someone you weren't particularly taken with, which was a dreadful thought, but at the very least, you were hoping to find someone who wasn't terribly dull.

After half an hour at the Featherington ball, you feared that "not terribly dull" might have been too high of an expectation to have for potential suitors. You were in the middle of a dance with some titled gentleman, his name you were not entirely sure of, who had been stunned into silence after you made a quip about a book you knew he should have read, as it was included in the Oxford curriculum you had been privy to courtesy of Benedict. Now, the two of you were dancing in complete silence, your eyes scanning the ballroom for any sign of your best friend. Just as you felt your foot being stepped on by your mute dance partner, you turned to see that Ben had entered the ballroom. The sharp pain in your foot was forgotten, and you relaxed, knowing you had an actually good dance to look forward to now.

Benedict eagerly entered the ballroom alongside his mother and older brother, immediately searching the crowd of people for you. Although he would never admit it, he was, for the first time in his life, properly excited for a ball. He knew he would be able to dance with you, granting a socially appropriate opportunity for him to hold on to your waist for a few minutes and feel the curve of your hips, occasionally getting close enough so he could smell your sweet perfume and whisper a silly comment in your ear. A comment that would no doubt make you laugh or at least giggle softly in a way that always seemed to elicit a warm feeling from his chest.

Unable to find you in the crowd, Benedict turned to Violet, who surely would know where you were by now, with a questioning look. She softened her features and gestured toward the dance floor, where Benedict could see you dancing with another man.

He barely heard his mother say over the roar in his ears, "She's out this year darling, with barely a spare moment away from a suitor or another," too focused on the man's hands on yours as he spun you around. Tearing his eyes away from the scene, he looked at Violet, who was already looking at him with a hint of concern. He swallowed thickly and put on a broad smile, not wanting to outwardly show what he was feeling.

"I suppose I'll be competing for her affections tonight, then. Hopefully she has space on her dance card," Benedict uttered, internally cringing.

Turning to Ben, Anthony leaned over and clapped him on the shoulder. "I don't think that'll be too much of a problem, brother. If you'd read Whistledown in your time away, you'd know your dear best friend has scarcely been giving any gentlemen the time of day. At the Cowper ball, Colin and I were practically the only ones she danced with," he said with a meaningful look.

Ben looked puzzled, not entirely trusting his brother's account of your season so far. He probed further, "A couple of men asked the twins about her at White's last night, so I just assumed she was having a lot of success." At the mention of the gentleman's club, Violet excused herself and went to go chat with some other mamas milling about the ballroom.

"She is having a lot of success, to be sure. Lots of gentlemen callers and the like. I just don't believe she actually likes anyone just yet," Anthony explained, seeing Benedict's shoulders relax just a fraction.

Trying to appear nonchalant, Ben responded, "Oh. That's a shame then that she hasn't found anyone she connects with."

"Are you sure you think it's a shame?" came Anthony's teasing reply, earning him a small shove from Benedict.

Just before Anthony could return the shove, you came up to the Bridgertons, walking as fast as was appropriate at an event like this. "Oh, thank heavens!" you exclaimed. "I thought the dance would never end. What good is an Oxford degree if you haven't even read The Odyssey?"

Anthony couldn't help but laugh at your exasperated demeanor, making a dig at your previous dance partner. But Ben was too eager to get you to himself. He softly grasped your wrist and took hold of your dance card, wordlessly asking for your permission. You raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him.

"I can't say yes if you don't ask, Ben," came your response. Yes, he was your best friend, but he needed to show some decorum. Besides, you really wanted to hear the words coming out of his mouth, needing the sweet sound engrained in your mind so you could revisit the scene later when you were in bed playing over the best parts of the night.

Stifling a smile and giving you a slight bow, Benedict looked deep into your eyes and flashed you the most charming, rakish grin he could muster. "Miss Y/N Beaumont, would you do me the honor of giving me this dance?" he spoke lowly, sending you a cheeky wink.

A simple "yes" from you would have sufficed, but you were finding it difficult to form any words at all. Your throat had gone dry, and you were astounded by the intense effect his words had on you. Having such a close relationship, the two of you were as informal as could be. But here, in this ballroom, barely even touching you, Ben had managed to leave you feeling warm and out of breath with a more formal tone than you had ever heard him speak to you. You maintained eye contact with him, licking your lips in a failed attempt to get something out to indicate that, yes, you desperately wanted to dance with him. You settled for a quick nod, pushing your dance card-clad wrist further in his direction.

He clasped your hand in both of his, reaching his fingers to touch your own. A teasing smile pulled at his lips. "I can't take you to the dance floor if you don't say anything, Y/N," he retorted, throwing back your earlier words. You finally broke eye contact, shaking your head and looking down, laughing at yourself.

"Yes, Mr Bridgerton. I would be delighted," came your airy response. Your breath hitched in your throat as he interlocked his fingers with yours and put a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the crowd during the short walk back to the dance floor.

"Very well, Miss Beaumont. But I insist you must call me Benedict," he said from behind you, lips dangerously close to your ear. You waited until you reached the dance floor, fighting goosebumps, and spun around to face him.

"Am I not allowed to call you Ben anymore, then?" you teased.

Ben could only smile down at you, a twinkle in his eye, "You can call me anything you like, darling."

Before you had time to process his words, which had undoubtedly left you breathless, the music started, and the two of you began dancing. It was a wonderfully familiar feeling, and you were gliding through the ballroom with ease, working perfectly in sync during every step, turn, and twirl. You were delighted. After far too long dancing with uninteresting or uncoordinated suitors, you could finally relax and just enjoy the dance, as well as the feeling of Ben's hand touching yours.

"So how is it, really? Looking for a husband?" Benedict asked after you had found a good rhythm.

Immediately, the topic clouded your features. You were unable to meet his gaze for fear of tears springing in your eyes. You bit your lip and composed yourself, blinking away any tears that had formed. With Ben, you could just be yourself; there was no need to pretend to want something you most certainly did not.

"Ummm... it's proven to be a challenge," you started, sniffling slightly. "Rather, I knew it would be challenging, but I didn't know how impossible it would feel. Every man wants a perfect, mindless housewife, and I fear I will be unable to fulfill that role. I want something different, Ben," you said, finally looking into his eyes. You were met with his sympathetic gaze, searching your face to take in all of your minuscule expressions. His hand softly squeezed your waist as you continued, "And I don't know if I will ever find someone who will allow me to do that. I can tell because barely anyone shows interest after they truly start to get to know me and can't keep up with the conversation," you added with a small laugh.

After twirling you around, he spoke, "I know, I can't say I envy your position. Truthfully, I would rather do anything other than get married at the moment, so I cannot imagine how you're feeling."

His words were thrown out almost casually, but you felt a stabbing pain in your gut as he said them. You already knew he didn't want to marry you. It would never work. He was your best friend. But it still hurt to hear him say it out loud. You were saved from having to respond by being twirled around again, so you simply nodded at him to continue, not trusting yourself to speak.

He sensed a change in your demeanor and thought that perhaps the prospect of marriage so soon was still a sensitive topic, so he tried to offer words of comfort. "At least you don't seem to have a lot of serious suitors right now. That way, you have time before you actually have to settle down."

But as soon as his words left his mouth and your face fell, he knew they were the wrong ones. You were staring off into the distance, refusing to make eye contact with him. The dance was almost over, and the pair of you were nearing Anthony once again, so Benedict knew he had to fix this in the next few moments while the two of you still had any semblance of privacy. Scrambling, he desperately searched for the correct words to say, blurting out the first thing he thought of to make you feel better.

"No, I didn't mean it like that, Y/N. I promise. You are so beautiful, and smart, and funny, and caring, and kind, and any man would be crazy to not want to marry you. With time, I am certain you will find a suitor who feels this way," came his rushed response.

Stunned into silence, seconds away from breaking down into sobs, you cut the dance short, disentangled your hands from Benedict's, and rushed to the ballroom exit, hoping not to cause a scene. The stabbing pain in your stomach was migrating to your chest. You were struggling to breathe and had tears blurring your vision, but luckily, you saw your mother near the exit and grabbed her hand, pulling her with you. She threw a startled apology over her shoulder at whoever she had been talking to and stopped you once you had left the ballroom.

Turning you around and firmly putting your hands on your shoulders, she scolded, "Whatever is the matter, Y/N? Why on earth would you–"

Stopped short by the sight of tears streaming down your cheeks, she softened and opted instead to hold you tightly to her, shushing you and stroking your hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked carefully.

You let out a choked sob, shaking your head. Primrose kissed the top of your head, not letting you go.

"That's alright, sweeting; we'll just leave the ball early then. Would you like that?"

You could only nod, holding onto her as she led you outside to the carriage. Desperate to go home and emotionally exhausted, you let yourself be directed into your seat and all but collapsed on top of your mother as soon as she was inside as well.

Back in the ballroom, Benedict stood frozen, looking in the direction you had run off in. Despite his utter confusion at your quick change in mood, he felt a crushing weight in his chest at being the cause of your distress. He thought things had been going quite well, actually. He had no idea why he had not been able to soothe you, usually an expert at reading your emotions, and had instead worsened the situation considerably. Wide-eyed, he turned to look at Anthony, who stood a few feet away. Ben was still stunned but shrugged at his brother, muttering, "Women" as an explanation for your sudden distress.

Benedict certainly had not been expecting Anthony to coddle him, but he could not help but be shocked when his brother's face transformed into a furious scowl, fists forming at his sides. He had barely reached his brother's side when Benedict felt Anthony's finger poking his chest aggressively.

"You are a complete and utter buffoon," whispered Anthony harshly, hoping to avoid a scene despite his overflowing anger. Benedict only sputtered in confusion, unsure of what to say.

"Oh, don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. I heard the last bit of your conversation, and obviously, this is a sensitive topic for Y/N. A large part of the reason no man has bothered to keep pursuing her is that they know the two of you have an incredibly strong 'friendship,'" continued Anthony in the same tone of voice, emphasizing the word 'friendship.' "You would know this if you bothered to talk to anyone at White's last night or kept up with your supposed best friend at all. But you were off in the countryside doing god knows what for whatever reason, and she had to face this alone."

Ire bubbled up in Benedict, feeling that his brother's response was uncalled for. "I cannot possibly have elicited this level of aggression from you. What the hell does Y/N's search for a husband have to do with me? Who she marries is entirely her choice," shot back Ben in the same angry whisper Anthony had been speaking in.

Anthony stepped back, looking at Benedict with disbelief. "You are either completely blind or the biggest fool I have ever had the displeasure of knowing."

With that, he turned on his heel, leaving Benedict reeling, still stunned, not to mention confused. He was replaying every interaction he had with you tonight, trying to find what he said or did that might have set you off, and, hopefully, trying to find a way to fix this.

---

Cass sat perched on your bed, where you lay in your night robe with a puffy face from the extensive crying you had done the previous night. Your mother had been discreet upon returning to your home, but your younger sister had inevitably heard you both come in and went to greet you in hopes of knowing what transpired at the Featherington Ball. Not wanting to explain your heartbreak to either of them in the moment, you had gone straight to your room and locked the door, not even allowing your lady's maid to help you out of your gown. But you knew you could not avoid your sister forever. So when morning came, Cass had slipped in before the rest of the Beaumonts rose. She found you already awake, staring out the window.

"Cass, I fear I have gotten myself into a most precarious situation," you started. She said nothing, opting instead to pat your leg in support. Her eyes grew wide as you briefly recounted your dance with Ben the previous night. You were near tears again, the pain of rejection still fresh.

"Well, I think Benedict Brigerton is an idiot. And a massive one, at that," your sister huffed out once you were finished speaking.

You let out a wet laugh in surprise, chastising her, "Cassandra! You must not use such foul language!"

"It's rather warranted in this situation, actually," responded Cass. Ever the fiery personality, you appreciated her fierce protectiveness in this moment.

"Honestly, I've gone over our conversation about a million times since it happened, and I don't think he actually said anything wrong. He doesn't want to marry. I don't have to worry about getting married right at this very moment, and I will eventually find someone who wants to marry me. Someone who is not him," you said carefully.

Tears welled up in your eyes again, but you pushed through, needing to say this out loud. "All of this is true. If Colin or Anthony or anyone else had said this, I would be inclined to agree with them. I think-" you paused, composing yourself.

"I think I have genuine feelings for him, which I had not entirely realized were there, or at least I had not categorized them as... whatever they actually are," you finished, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face now. Cass reached over to hug you and moved to sit next to you on top of your covers.

You were still sniffling when she spoke up, "I was wondering how long it would take you to realize." Seeing your dirty look, she let out a laugh, "Sorry! I'm sorry! It was just quite obvious to me. Or to anyone with eyes, probably."

You put your head against the headboard behind you, closing your eyes in frustration and responding, "It's just very inconvenient that I feel this way. Obviously, he does not feel the same, which is obviously alright," you shot Cass a pointed look, warning her not to interject. "So, I believe that to actually find a husband, I must change my friendship with Benedict. Slightly."

"How do you mean?" asked Cass.

Rubbing your temples, you answered her, "Perhaps, seeing him less. So I'm not distracted. And so I stop comparing every suitor to him. And maybe not dancing at balls anymore. To have more time to dance with actual potential husbands. And because I do believe I will fall in love with him if we keep dancing like we did last night, which would not be helpful in the least." You had stopped crying now, your plan of action filling you with resolve.

"Are you implying that you aren't already in love with him? Because we both know that's not tr-" Cass attempted to say, before getting hit by one of your pillows square in the face. But this time, you were laughing with her. It was all going to be alright. You would find someone, and your feelings for Ben would soon become a thing of the past.

—

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