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mysecretlittlelibrary · 6 months ago

Text

Maybe I Just Wanna Be Yours

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: oral (f receiving), handjob, sub Loki, edging & overstimulation, forced submission kinda, hair pulling, a lil choking, I hope that's everything lol

Genre: smut and I guess fluff

Summary: You make Loki realize something about himself that he was not expecting to learn.

***

You plop down on the couch with your bowl of chips, getting comfortable to watch TV.

"Are you out here by yourself?" Loki's voice surprises you. You hadn't heard him come down the hall.

"Yeah." You glance at him over your shoulder with a shrug.

"Why?" His eyes narrow.

"I'm watching TV. You are familiar with that particular activity aren't you?"

"Yes I am, but why out here alone?" Loki rolls his eyes before sticking his head into the fridge.

"I wanted to leave my room. You're welcome to join me." You shrug.

"Why would I do that?" He scoffs.

"Believe it or not, some people enjoy doing things with other people in different spaces, you awkward little hermit." You roll your eyes. You walk over to the kitchen for a drink, realizing you forgot one.

"I am not a hermit." Loki crosses his arms. You grab a soda and walk over to Loki, leaning in close enough that he leans back suspiciously.

"This is the first time you've been out your room in like a week." You tell him.

"That is not true!" He steps away from you indignantly.

"It is, and that's fine. If that's how you like to live, I'm not judging you for it. But for me anyway, a change of scenery is good for the mind." You shrug walking back over to the couch.

"That doesn't make an ounce of sense."

"To each their own." You hum.

"You are a strange woman."

"Because I'm watching TV?" You tilt your head curiously.

"You spend your time so differently from everyone else here." He says.

"Yeah believe it or not I am an individual."

"That's not what I meant."

"No?"

"I just meant that most of the tower is left unoccupied from day to day, except you, you seem to- be everywhere." He frowns.

"If you're content never leaving your room that's fine, like I said I prefer a change of scenery. Helps mark the passage of time when we're not off saving the world." You shrug.

"There is next to nothing worth doing on this miserable planet."

"You are ridiculously negative." You chuckle, pressing play on your movie of choice for tonight. Clearly, this conversation with Loki is over, you have no interest in going back and forth about his cynicism. You hear him take a sharp breath, if you had to guess it's like one of those breaths you take before speaking but he doesn't say anything and eventually you hear his shoes along the floor and you smirk as you check that he is indeed gone.

It's not necessarily that you enjoy getting under Loki's skin the way you so obviously do, but it is rather easy and no one else speaks to him, which is kind of sad. To be clear you don't pity him, in fact this back and forth he reluctantly engages in is you refusing to treat him any different than you would anyone else on the team. It just so happens that he's easy to rile up and you find it funny but really this is just you being inclusive.

"You know y/n I don't get how you do it." Tony drunkenly says. It's supposed to be game night but after an hour Tony's of course too drunk to play so now you're all just talking.

"How I do what, Stark?" You ask.

"Deal with reindeer games the way you do."

"Reindeer ga- do you mean Loki?" You blink at him. You're not even sure how the group ended up on the subject, he's not here. How long were you checked out of the conversation?

"Yes obviously." He scoffs.

"It would be obvious if you used his name. Why are we talking about him, anyway?"

"Tony decided the next topic of conversation would be the team and somehow we got to how Loki is pretty much a recluse." Natasha explains to you.

"Exceeeept he talks to you. How does that work?" Tony asks.

"I dunno man I just poke fun at him like I do the rest of you and wait til he gets red in the face." You shrug.

"You mess with him on purpose?" Thor frowns.

"No, no! Not- really? He just, okay I don't try to get under his skin exactly, it's just when he engages with me, it seems like he expects hostility. I just give him back what I get from him and I don't think he knows how to handle that. But he keeps talking to me so I guess something about it gets through to him."

"That's very weird." Tony says.

"You're really in no place to judge Tony, we all know your list of idiosyncrasies is practically never ending." You roll your eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Is idiosyncrasies too big a word for our resident mad scientist?" You ask.

"I know what the word idiotsinkities means." He scoffs.

"Right." You hum. The others burst into laughter at Tony's slurred attempt at defending himself. It seems to be enough to change the subject and the rest of the night proceeds without another weird interrogation- especially once Tony passes out.

You lean against the wall as you listen to this guy, Jack, talk. He's close enough for you to smell his cologne, mostly to be heard over the music and the crowd of partygoers. You laugh at some silly joke of his, because he's cute and you'll probably end up making out with him in a quiet corner of the tower later if he doesn't say something stupid before you make that decision. The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls your attention from your conversation. Loki is standing there with his arms crossed and faced squeezed.

"Oh? Look who's come out to play." You muse.

"Do you know this guy?" Jack frowns.

"Jack, this is Loki, he's on the team. Loki this is my new friend Jack. Don't be rude, say hello." You nod your head towards Jack. Loki narrows his eyes as if sizing Jack up.

"Hey man. Nice to meet you." Jack puts his hand out to Loki.

"I don't shake hands." Loki says.

"Right- did you need something? We were, kind of talking." Jack says.

"I don't care what you were doing." Loki rolls his eyes.

"Play nice Loki." You say, practically singing the warning.

"I'm not a dog." Loki glares at you.

"Well don't go around snarling like one." You snap.

"Is something- going on between you two?" Jack frowns.

"No." You say firmly.

"Alright well I'm going to get another drink, do you want anything?" He asks.

"Just you back here soon." You wink at him.

"I'll be as quick as I can." Jack kisses your cheek and walks off while Loki breathes incredibly noticeably agitated as he rolls his eyes ago.

"Alright Loki, what is your problem?" You scoff.

"He looks like a jungle cat."

"Really? I don't see jungle cat honestly, he kind of looks like a deer to me." You hum.

"Not in his appearance I mean the way he was closing in on you, like a lion waiting to attack a gazelle." He frowns.

"What? You don't think I can handle the big scary man Loki? Don't insult me, I've killed things that would eat him for an afternoon snack." You scoff.

"It's not that I think you can't handle him. Something about him was just- off. Didn't like his energy."

"Something was off? You didn't like his energy? Really that's what we're going with?" With a hand on his chest you press Loki against the wall.

"What else could I possibly be going with?" Loki tries to keep his voice steady, but with your hand now trailing down his abdomen you can feel muscles tensing under your touch.

"Truthfully I think somebody didn't quite enjoy seeing me pay so much attention to Jack. Don't worry Loki, he couldn't possibly replace you." You hum.

"Don't be ridiculous." He scoffs. You smirk as your hand dances lower and you watch him go stock still when your fingers trace along the waistband of his pants.

"You won't get anywhere by lying to me you know." You say. His mouth drops open slightly as you curl your fingers for your nails to gently caress his skin. "Do you want me to stop Loki?" You whisper in his ear teasingly. As if a bucket of ice water was dumped on him you watch Loki jump back out of your reach and clear his throat before walking off with a glare. You frown as you watch him go, perhaps you pushed too far this time. You think you need to apologize. You start to make your way through the crowd and somehow get caught by Jack.

"Hey, where are you off to?" He asks.

"Looking for you actually, I need a bathroom but I didn't want you to think I was leaving you hanging. If you go back to our little corner I will find you again shortly, alright?" You tap his chest and bat your eyelashes before spinning away from him to continue your task of tracking Loki down. You pop into the nearest empty room.

"Friday, where the hell did Loki go?" You ask her. The tower is huge and since you lost sight of him while talking to Jack it could take you forever to find him on your own.

"He's on the Balcony lounge at the end of the hall upstairs." Friday tells you.

"Thank you!" You tell her, heading for the stairs. Sure enough, there's Loki brooding on the balcony by himself. You slide open the door and Loki's head whips around. When his eyes settle on you, they narrow.

"I've had it with your games tonight." He says.

"No games. I actually wanted to apologize." You say.

"For what?" He regards you suspiciously.

"If I went too far just now. I'm never trying to make you uncomfortable with the teasing. If I crossed a line I want you to know I wasn't trying to and I respect your boundaries." You say gently.

"You think that made me uncomfortable?" He scoffs.

"Well you did quite literally run away."

"You do realize I'm a god, don't you?"

"So what?" You shrug.

"People worship me y/n."

"People worship me too Loki. Shall I start calling myself a goddess?" You cross your arms.

"Of course not." Loki looks at you incredulously.

"Well I'm just saying darling if you're quantifying your power here by being worshiped there are people who would tell you I am the path to heaven. Or, I suppose for you it would be Valhalla, right?" You tilt your head.

"That's rather presumptuous."

"Don't misunderstand here. I never asked them to deify me but who am I to deny those who believe I know the entrance heaven's gate?"

"And where is that?"

"Heaven's gate?" You chuckle, quirking an eyebrow up at him. "I don't think you can handle the answer to that question Loki, truthfully."

"You have no idea what I can handle." He frowns.

"I'm sure you're very capable honey but you've made it clear that you and I have... very different types." You say.

"What's that supposed to mean?" The frown deepens.

"Why did you run off? If you weren't uncomfortable, what made you run and hide?" You ask.

"How does this pertain to my question?" Loki shakes his head.

"My question is the answer to yours."

"I don't follow."

"Answer the question, and I'll offer an explanation." You say. Loki lets out a harsh breath through his nose.

"Your behavior, is disarming."

"And you don't like being disarmed?" You tilt your head.

"It's not something I'm used to."

"Right." You hum.

"So?"

"You said if I answered you'd explain the connection." Loki says.

"I like disarming people. It's something I do quite well, and often. You don't seem too fond of that. Which- obviously wouldn't work."

"It's something you do well with mortals. I'll remind you I'm a god."

"So you've said but I did it pretty well to you like five minutes ago." You shrug.

"You caught me off guard." He frowns.

"It's not like I couldn't do it again."

"That's a rather bold assumption. One that I'm inclined to disagree with." His brow furrows.

"That's cute." You chuckle.

"I'm not so easily frazzled as your pathetic midgardian males." Loki insists.

"What just happened does not support that claim, but your insistence is exactly what I'm talking about when I say you're not my type. Putting you in your place would be so much trouble." You shrug.

"Putting me in my place?! On the contrary darling I would have you begging me. You'd call me king."

"What do I care for a king when there people who call me their god?" You scoff tugging at Loki's shirt to bring his face closer to yours. "Do you get it yet Loki? You want control and I'm unwilling to give it. You think too small to ever command me."

"You don't know that." His eyes narrow.

"Your breathing stuttered when I grabbed your shirt. Plus there's not a creature in all the nine realms thinking big enough to command me darling. Don't worry it's not just you." You wink at him pulling back and turning away from him to leave.

"Your attitude is insufferable." Loki growls grabbing your wrist and pinning you against the building with a hand around your throat.

"Is it?" You smile trailing your fingers from his wrist up his arm. You watch his jaw tense as his eyes snap between your face and your hand a couple of times before his gaze settles on you. His grip on your neck tightens as your fingers reach his shoulder. There, you shoot your hand quickly into his hair, fisting a handful of it and yanking, hard. Loki's head snaps back and his knees almost buckle as a strangled moan escapes from him. Your other hand grabs his wrist attached to the hand on your neck, his grip has loosened to practically nothing from your sudden hair pull but this is about power and control and if he's determined to convince you he's got some here you're determined to ensure he knows that's not true. "Let go Loki." You say in that sultry commanding tone you usually reserve for submissives. Slowly, his fingers unfurl until they no longer hold you and you finally release his hair, only to knock his ankle in such a way that he drops to his knees. He snaps his head up towards you with a glare in his eyes but all you do is smirk at him. "Shame you're such a brat, you look so good on your knees for me." You hum tilting his chin slightly. You lean forward, close enough to feel his heavy breaths against your face. "Goodnight Loki." You whisper. You drag your finger from his chin up his cheek and then turn away, leaving him on his knees on the balcony with more questions than he can answer as you return to the party.

The loud knock on your bedroom door pulls your attention from the show you're watching. You almost don't want to get up but whoever is looking for you seems rather incesent so you roll out of bed and swing open the door to find Loki in the hall.

"Loki? What are you doing here?" You cross your arms and lean against your doorframe.

"I need to talk to you about something."

"Look whatever Tony said to upset you, you can always get him back by calling out that he's a spoiled brat with daddy issues and a lack of self control so embarrassingly pathetic it's a miracle Pepper wants to be within 10 feet of him let alone spend the rest of her life with him." You sigh.

"That was- scathing and rather immediate, do you just spend your free time thinking of nasty things to say?" Loki blinks at you.

"No but I do have an arsenal of harsh comments if ever I need to hurt someone's feelings." You shrug.

"I'll- keep that in mind but this isn't about Anthony Stark." He shakes his head.

"Well, what is it then?"

"Could I- do you mind if come in?" He asks. You poke your head into your room checking for anything you don't want him to see.

"Fine." You say after confirming your room is clean. You open the door fully and let him through the doorway. "What's this about Loki?"

"The party the other night. Do you, remember what we talked about?" Loki asks.

"Well yes but you'll need to be more specific on where this is going."

"I just, I've been thinking about it and I think you're wrong and I'd like to prove it to you."

"Oh this should be good. Wrong about what exactly? Because I think I made myself quite clear. You'll never get the control from me that you seem to think you want." You shrug.

"No that much is obvious. But you said I wasn't your type and I think that's- not true." Loki's brow furrows as he speaks.

"What a shocking turn of events." You hum.

"Do not mock me." He sighs.

"I'm not. You were so insistent you couldn't possibly fit the bill I'm surprised by the turn around."

"Believe me so am I but, I haven't been able to stop thinking about that night. Something about you forcing me to my knees I just- something happened."

"Something happened?" You quirk an eyebrow at him.

"You disarmed me again but- I liked it. I think. And I'd like to try and understand that."

"Say it Loki."

"You said your partners worship you, show me how to do the same." Loki says.

"And you're sure you want this? If you misbehave I can be very mean."

"I'm sure." He nods.

"Then we'll have to discuss some things first. I won't touch you until I've asked some questions." You shake your head.

"Ask me anything."

"How do you feel about restraints?"

"No handcuffs. Ropes are fine."

"How are you with pain?"

"I don't know my limits but I'm not- opposed." He says.

"I'm not going to paddle you or anything darling it's much too soon for any of that but we'll use a stoplight system anyway. I'll check in frequently but at any point you can say yellow if you realize you're reaching a limit or red if you need something to stop. You'll also need a safeword."

"I don't need a safewor-"

"I don't know your limits, you don't even know your limits. It's a nonnegotiable Loki, you need a safeword. Pick one." You say.

"If I must, I'll use another color. Gold."

"Gold?"

"It's easy to say, I wear it a lot, do you think it'll get confusing?"

"Nope. As long as it's something you can remember." You shrug.

"I can remember gold." He says.

"Then gold it is. And Loki?"

"Yes?"

"You must promise me you will use it if you need to." You say.

"I won't need to."

"Don't start with that nonsense." You roll your eyes. "I need to know you'll use it if it comes to that."

"Fine. If it comes to that, I'll use it." He nods.

"Good. Couple more components. Overstimulation and or edging. Where do you fall?"

"I think you underestimate my resilience." He frowns.

"These are things I ask all of my submissives Loki you are not exempt. Not everyone likes the same things. You're lucky I'm not making you fill out my entire questionaire right now. You'll have to do that later." You scoff.

"I have homework already?"

"If you want this to continue after today you will. For now, overstimulation and edging."

"That's fine with me."

"Toys?"

"Can we- hold off on those until we have a longer conversation about it?"

"Absolutely. How do you feel about names? Do you like being called mean things? Are there certain pet names you don't like?"

"When you say mean things-" Loki trails.

"Mean names like slut or whore, I might scold you for 'making a mess', or tease you for being responsive."

"If- you say something that strikes a nerve I'll say so. Otherwise proceed whatever way feels natural." He says.

"Do you have any questions?" You ask.

"No." He shakes his head.

"Well that's the end of the preliminaries."

"So we can start now?"

"You think you're ready?"

"Yes."

"Kneel."

Loki drops to his knees hesitently, looking at you with wide eyes.

"From here on you'll address me as mistress, is that understood?"

"Yes... mistress." Loki says. You can see the wheels turning in his head, trying to decide how he feels about it.

"I know I said this the other night but you really do look so perfect on your knees for me." You hum grabbing his chin. You wrap your fingers around his throat and bend over to kiss him. Loki reacts eagerly to your kiss, leaning up into you as much as you'll allow given your hand still holding his neck. When you pull away his mouth tries to follow yours but you hold him in place. Part of you just wants to look at Loki on his knees for a couple of hours, one day you'll tie him up real pretty and take pictures of him kneeling for you. "You want to learn how to worship me do you?"

"Please mistress." Loki breathes out. God that was hot. You're already thinking of ways to make him beg. You pull your shorts off and Loki's gaze falls to the apex of your thighs, still covered by your underwear, but his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

"Take my underwear off, with your teeth. Just your teeth." You tell him. Loki leans forward and latches onto a corner of your panties with his teeth. It takes him a moment to get the hang of it but you watch as Loki works them over your hips slowly. Once they're off, you thread your fingers through his hair, using the leverage to angle his gaze back up to yours. "Let's see if that silver tongue of yours is good for anything other than those silly retorts of yours hm?" You hum shoving Loki's face towards your pussy. He reacts quickly, tongue lapping at your center with fervor. You tug at his hair, arching towards his mouth, as he works you.

"That's it Loki, keep going." You moan. Loki looks up at you while he seemingly tries out a few patterns, trying to work out what you like best. You pull his hair when he does something you like, enjoying the way he groans when you do. "Wrap your lips around my clit and suck." You tell him. Loki is quick to follow your instructions and it doesn't take long for you to coat his mouth in evidence of your orgasm. You pull his head away from you, petting his head affectionately. "That was a good start. Up. Lay on the bed and take off your shirt." You instruct stepping back. Unsteadily, Loki stands up and walks over to your bed, stripping his shirt before he lays down. His body is stiff, probably since your instruction was vauge.

"Relax Loki. You look so- rigid." You chuckle sitting next to him on the bed. You allow yourself to simply admire his exposed chest, using your fingers to trace the plains and valleys of lean muscle that tense up at your touch. Eventually, you drag your hand down, dancing along the edge of his pants allowing the anticipation to build before you slip your hand beneath his jeans. Over his boxers, you stroke his dick, tracing veins and feeling it's size through his underwear.

"Uh... M-mistress?" He says breathily.

"What is it Loki?" You hum, with your free hand you work his jeans down his legs enough to see what you're doing to him. His grey boxers are already a bit darkened from pre-cum.

"If, if you keep doing that I'm- I'm afraid I'll make a mess of myself rather early." Loki frowns.

"So what?"

"W-well it's it's embarrassing mistress." He says, though little grunts interrupt his words.

"Embarrassing? So you don't want me to touch you?" You ask slowing your movements.

"N-no mistress that's not what, I do, want you to touch me. If that's what you want to do." He scrambles.

"See that's what I thought." You say speeding up again. Loki jerks against your hand low moans filling the room as you watch him react to your touch. You continue to stroke him over his boxers, watching the darkened spot of pre-cum grow ever so slightly bigger. You notice immediately when Loki's hands grip your sheets tightly. He must be getting close. It prompts you to increase your ministrations.

"M-mistress wa-wait stop I, I'm too close- I'll ruin my-" Loki doesn't finish his sentence. A shuddering moan accompanies the visual of his orgasm darkening most of the front of his boxers, wet streaks ruining much of the light grey fabric. There's something you quite enjoy about the sight even as Loki's cheeks tinge pink with shame. "I'm sorry." He mutters.

"Don't apologize. I wanted that to happen. As for the rest of your orgasms you'll have to earn them. You must ask for my permission to cum for the rest of the session. If you cum without my permission there will be consequences. Am I understood?" You grab his chin to make him look at you.

"Yes mistress." Loki says, eyes wide, searching your face, for what you're not sure.

"Good." You say pulling his dick out of his soiled boxers. You lick along the length once, reveling in the hiss Loki lets out no doubt from sensitivity. His previous orgasm makes for plenty of lubricant as you begin stroking him again, slowly. Loki's breaths come out in shudders and you lean over to place kisses and hickeys along his throat. Each bloom of red along his neck and chest pulls sweet moans from him until the sensitivity wears off. Soon, surprisingly soon, you see him grab the sheets again.

"Mistress I, I'm close-"

"So soon? Wow." You taunt.

"Can I cum mistress?"

"But before you didn't want to. Remember? You even asked me to stop." You slow down, almost stopping.

"No nonono that was- that was different I didn't mean it that way-" he seems to give up on his defense in favor of a groan at the sudden decrease in stimulation.

"Well, I was so kind in giving you the first one and you didn't even thank me. So you'll have to really convince me you want another." You shrug when his harsh breathing slows a bit you pick up the pace of your strokes again. When Loki grips the sheets you slow down again and when the tension dissipates you pick up. You do this three or four more times before Loki's moans start to transform in to pathetic sounding whines, his chest is red, his knuckles are white, and his dick is throbbing in your hand.

"Please- mistress." Loki pants.

"Please what baby boy?"

"I can't- I can't do it. I need to cum, I need to, please. Please mistress."

"You need to?"

"Please! Please mistress. Please let me cum. Oh god I need you to. Please." Loki's begging is boarderline hysteric, he's trembling and half of his words come out as moans.

"I do love to hear you beg."

"Please!" He whines out.

"Oo that was a good one. Very well, go ahead and let go for me sweetheart." You say sweetly, stroking faster to help him along. A few pumps later and he's spilling onto himself and your hand with a cry that makes your walls clench around nothing. You continue stroking him through it and even after he's coming down. You wonder if you can't pull one more from him. Loki jolts against your touch, scrambling as if to escape it but unable to go anywhere really.

"G-g-gold! Gold. I can't. Please." Loki pants out.

"Hands up." You say as you do exactly that. "Sorry Lo I- guess I got carried away. I'll get a towel for you." You get off the bed and grab a towel, wetting one side to clean him off and using the other to dry him after. You hand him an extra blanket after. "Give yourself some time to recoup okay?"

"You're cruel."

"I wasn't trying to be. You just- fell into your role so well. I told you I'm not easy. But I'll remember you're still new to this and be sure to treat you gently in the future. Mr. you underestimate my resillience."

"I can handle it."

"With time I'm sure. No rush now." You shrug.

"Wait- don't go anywhere please." Loki grabs your wrist.

"You need water honey."

"Later." Loki tugs hard enough to pull you into the bed next to him. You sigh and wrap your arms around him, playing with his hair gently. Loki will make for one interesting submissive if he decides this is something he wants long term. You'll have your work cut out for you, but maybe he's better suited for this than you think. Only time will tell I suppose.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #loki #loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki smut #loki laufeyson

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milkteabinniechan · 5 months ago

Text

*⁠♡Happy Father's Day - Chan

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY membership // m.list

pairing: single dad! Chan x afab reader

warnings: fingering, lots of mouth sounds, angst (if you squint your eyes)

I’ll tell him about you.

Your friend had an adorable three year old. A loud, sticky, energetic three year old. But adorable nonetheless. You had a pretty regular babysitting gig going. A few people around your neighborhood had talked and heard about your services and now you were basically a seasoned vet when it came to entertaining toddlers.

But your friend was a full time stay-at-home mom now and could watch her own adorable, sticky three year old. And now you needed another spot to fill those last bit of monthly bills. So she said there was a new dad at the preschool that seemed like he was struggling. “Struggling”, she said in air quotes. You agreed and asked her to give this new dad your information. Even though you mostly worked with the mothers, money was money.

A few days passed and eventually your phone rang, an unknown number flashing on the screen.

“Hello?”

“Uh, yeah. Hi. This is Chan. The.. uh.. Dad from Sunnyvale Preschool? I was told you could help me out with babysitting?”

He sounded nervous, or maybe he was just a shy person. Maybe he hated talking on the phone. But did his voice sound sexy? There was a deep, velvety smoothness to the way he spoke. Even between the stutters and pauses. You lingered for a moment, lost in the thought of that voice of his.

“Are you still there?” His voice pierced through your eardrum.

“Shit. Sorry, yeah. I’m here. And yes, I am available. Do you have time this week to set up a meet and greet?” your voice quickly went into customer service mode, knowing exactly what to say, memorizing the script you had made for yourself months ago.

THe two of you agreed on a time and day and said your goodbyes. You took a deep breath and tried to forget the way the sound of his voice made you feel. And you prayed all night that he didn’t look as good as he sounded.

Soon, you found yourself at the front door of Chan’s house. An expansive four bedroom home with one of those driveways that was nearly at a ninety degree angle. The door itself was large with two thin lines of stained glass running vertically down the front. A wooden WELCOME sign layed lazily against the door. A novelty sign you could buy as a last minute purchase at a hardware store. The front door clicked open and Chan stood in the doorway, child on his hip.

“Come on in,” He said warmly, arm gesturing for you to walk inside, “Did you find the place okay?”

Inside was a long staircase leading up to the bedrooms, a chandelier hanging from the top floor and swinging down gracefully into the foyer where the three of you stood. Past the stairs was a long hallway that led to the living room and an open floor plan kitchen. Windows surrounded the rooms in a sunlit blanket that made the whole house seem as if it was holding its arms out to you, embracing you.

The three of you sat down on the sectional couch in the living room. You sat on one end, while Chan and the small child sat together on the other corner. Chan introduced the small girl as Lilly. She clung to Chan tightly, her small, chubby finger gripping onto his shirt as if it were a lifeline. You smiled at Lilly and introduced yourself to her. You held eye contact with only her and asked her about some of her favorite things. You had learned over the years that children appreciated when you spoke to them like you understood them. Like everything they said was important, because to you it was. Lilly lit up and talked excitedly about some of her favorite books, jumping at the opportunity to show you. She ran to her room and hastily returned with a few small books. One was about animals, another was about a tractor that made a new friend. You exclaimed in amazement at Lilly’s amazing books. She was smart and she was quiet, but you could tell she was very well loved.

Chan watched the two of you talk about books and the different noises that animals make. It had been a long time since he had seen Lilly open up to someone so quickly. It made his heart feel full to burst, seeing the way you interacted with his daughter.

“You’re hired.” Chan said as you started to walk out of the door. His sudden decision startled you, usually it took most parents to call a few days after the meet and greet. You smiled warmly at Chan, giving him a firm handshake. The two of you quickly made a schedule of the days you would be working and before you knew it, you were in the routine with him.

Months went by with the three of you falling into this routine. You knew exactly when Chan would get home, you knew the foods that Lilly liked to eat, with her tastes changing by the week. You knew when to have dinner on the table and when to have Lilly in bed. And there was comfort there. A comfort in Chan coming home, in making a meal for him. You loved Lilly, and you couldn’t ignore this role that you were easing into.

“Happy Father’s Day!”

Chan walked in the door to find you greeting him with balloons and a cake on the dining room table. Lilly ran to Chan and squeezed his leg. You stood by the balloons and cake, waiting for his reaction. But for a moment he just stood there. Then, he picked Lilly up, propping her on his hip and walked towards you, embracing you with his free arm. He pulled you in close and whispered a soft thank you against your neck. As he pulled back from the hug, the two of you lingered there for a moment, caught heavily in the tension building thick between you. Later that evening, you walked back downstairs from putting Lilly to bed. You entered the kitchen to see Chan cleaning off the rest of the plates and silverware, blue frosting speckled on forks and spoons alike.

“I hope the cake wasn’t too much,” You spoke softly, moving towards Chan at the sink, “It was Lilly’s idea, she really wanted a cake.”

Chan chuckled softly at the thought of his daughter begging for a cake, with only blue frosting, blue being her current favorite color.

“It was perfect,” Chan stopped washing dishes and turned towards you, “you’re perfect.” Chan slowly moved his hands from the warm sink water, to your waiting waist. His fingers crept along your stomach and landed flush along your back, pulling you close to his body. You gasped at the sudden movement, but your body reacted reflexively to his touch. He took you by the hips and propped you up on the kitchen counter. He moved in towards your legs, spreading them open, making room for him. He gripped your thigh with his large hand and pulled it up and around his waist. Your eyes burned bright at his brazen actions as you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, pulling him into a deep, possessive kiss. Chan forcefully glides his tongue into your mouth, letting it graze across your teeth. You let out a soft gasp as you feel his tongue slide inside, sending a shiver up your spine. You open your mouth wider for him, letting your tongues tangle together in a slow, sensual dance. You press against Chan, craving more of his touch, desperate for it.

He lets his hand fall lazily down your chest, then your stomach. He easily unclasps the button of your pants and lets his hand slip inside. The rush of warmth from his hand causes your head to fall back, your back arching at his every movement. A low growl escapes from inside Chan’s chest seeing how responsive you are to his touch. He lets his teeth graze lightly along the skin of your neck while his fingers trace hypnotic circles around the entrance of your cunt. He can feel how wet you already are for him and it causes something feral to happen in his brain. He buries his fingers deeper inside you, the sudden impact and pressure causing you to squirm and squeal pathetically in his strong arms.

A small, faint cry comes from the top of the stairs and suddenly the two of you snap back into parent mode. The sound of Lilly’s tiny voice pushing all other thoughts and feelings aside. The two of you run upstairs to find Lilly in her bed, crying from a nightmare.

Chan melts instantly at the sight of his daughter safely lying in her bed, instantly thinking the worst may have happened. He sits on the bed with her and holds her close. He consoles her and reminds her that dreams cannot hurt her, he reassures her that he is here to protect her. That he will always be here for her. But as he speaks, he looks at you too. He looks at you as if he wanted you to hear what he was saying as well, like he was speaking to you and Lilly. That you were both important to him. As if he wanted to protect you too. And love you too. You gave Chan a small nod, so he knew you understood. You loved him too. And you would protect both of them with your whole heart.

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pietropatrol · 5 months ago

Text

The Love You Want (Part 2/2)

Read Part 1

Pietro Maximoff was a great teammate and a great "friends with benefits." That was, until you fell for him but he started to push you away. Now he was just a teammate with benefits. A charity gala put on by Tony causes tension between you and the speedster. Why is he so upset anyway?

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warnings: sexual content, pining idiots, language, angst, past trauma, jealousy

Words: 3,359

The prestigious doctors Tony had wanted you to schmooze were an easy conversation for two reasons.

One being you were a medical professional yourself. You were just a nurse practitioner in terms of your degree, but they were curious about how you used it in the field as an Avenger. Two, you were a walking medical miracle.

The serum had made you not only able to let your body heal itself, but heal others. Though the latter was to a certain extent and you had learned that the hard way.

The rule now was to stabilize with your powers if necessary, then treat medically until out of combat. Your powers could be depleted if you used them extensively on others, to the point your body is unable to heal yourself.

Bucky slid up to your side with another drink after a few minutes. He inclined his head to you and you nodded in return.

You would be okay… eventually. Would your heartache last for a few months? Yes. Pietro had been a fixation in your life for the last 2 years. You had never even entertained the thought of trying to be with someone else, officially or casually.

Why would you? You trusted no one outside of your team. At the rate it took to trust someone, it would be a decade before you’d be able to even try. You’d probably have to up your therapy sessions now too.

When the band started up after their break, Bucky excused the pair of you and pulled you over to the dance floor.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

You shrugged, trying to ignore the sting returning to your eyes. “I basically told him I loved him, and then I broke it off.”

“Did he say anything?”

“No, he didn’t seem to know what to say.” Your voice was tight. “And when he did, I kept spewing my feelings at him. Like if I didn’t get it all out it was going to eat me alive.”

“And how do you feel now?” Bucky glanced over your shoulder, face neutral at whoever he made eye contact with.

“Is it pathetic of me to feel empty? How could I become so dependent on him? After everything that’s happened to me?”

Bucky’s gaze softened on you. “Y/N, you’re not pathetic. You love Pietro, and he isn’t your ex. It’s okay that you are attached to him.”

You hummed in response, not knowing what else to say.

“I am going to give you my observation, okay? Pietro loves you too.”

You started to disagree.

Bucky shook his head. “He has been stalking you since the moment you came back out here. His eyes have not left you. I’ve been watching him circle this atrium, ignore his date, and try to approach you multiple times.”

“I told you, he’s possessive.”

“Why would he be if he didn’t love you? Sure, some other men out there may be possessive without love, but I’ve seen how protective he is of you too. On missions, he’s not ever far from you. And, I bet if I start putting the moves on you again he’s going to stop being a scared-cat and finally come over here.”

“I’m just that good in bed is all, he doesn’t want to lose that,” you joked, though the words sounded hollow to your ears.

Bucky rolled his eyes and pulled you in closer as he dipped his heads towards you.

You didn’t even have time to pull your head back as you were swept into the arms of Pietro and on the other side of the dance floor.

Bucky gave you a look that was clearly an ‘I told you so’ and went back to the bar.

“I don’t share, Y/N. I’ve told you this,” Pietro growled and it made your knees weak. Why was him being a possessive asshole hot to you?

“And I thought I told you it was best for us to end whatever this is?” You gave him a pointed look.

“So you jump right on the next available teammate?”

“Sure, that’s what that was,” you spat. “Bucky is my new fuck buddy.”

Pietro paused from leading you around the dance floor and narrowed his eyes in on you, searching for something.

You stuck your chin out at him and didn’t speak a word. He could be the one to determine if that was true or not. If that was what he thought of you, so be it.

“I’m selfish,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve been selfish with you and I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Saying for everything would be an easy out, but you deserve more than that.” His hand delicately curled into your waist. Your instincts screamed to move closer to him, to create more contact.

“You can start with bringing my own personal nemesis to this event, and starving me beforehand. I can’t scarf down the hors d’oeuvres without worrying I am going to end up on the ‘don’t’ section of their ‘Do’s and Don’ts’ column,” you replied, throwing a glare at Sierra who was already glaring at you.

“You may end up in that section anyway for stealing her date.” He grinned teasingly down at you and your heart raced. It felt friendly in a way it hadn’t been for a long time.

“Her date actually stole me from mine, why do they always blame women for men’s actions?” You scowled.

“Are you really here with Barnes officially?”

“I would ask you the same thing about Lineheart, but I saw you physically recoil from her.” You rose your eyebrows at him.

He had the decency to appear a little bit guilty. “I’m sorry for bringing her to get a rise out of you. I now realize what a bad idea that was.”

“Wow, an apology and confession.”

“Are you really here with Barnes?” Pietro insisted on knowing.

“Well considering you made it so I would not remember this event was coming up—”

“I’m only half-sorry for that. The second half that is, when I didn’t remind you. The initial distraction I am quite proud of.” He cocked his head at you, watching the heat spread up your neck and cheeks.

You shook your head to clear your thoughts. “No, I’m not here with Bucky. He found me while I was avoiding you and offered to help make you jealous.”

The flash of relief was apparent in Pietro’s eyes. “Because it looked very convincing.”

“Well, that is part of our jobs some days. Acting convincing. You and I have done it many times before.”

The pair of you had done a few undercover missions that required you to be a couple. It was usually the most fun you had doing a job.

“Yeah, but I like to think it’s because we have something real going on too.” Pietro’s thumb started stroking your side, making it difficult to not melt into him.

“I’m sure it helped for you, as apparently you are terrible at acting. But it was all a show to make you jealous. Which is immature, I know. But fight fire with fire. It got the point across didn’t it?”

“Were you jealous?” Pietro asked, spinning you around again.

“Truthfully, no.” You frowned and he frowned back at you. “I was more hurt than anything, and then I knew you were trying to make me jealous so I was pissed off.”

“I’m an idiot.”

“Why would you even want me to be jealous, Pietro? It’s not like I’ve been the one pushing you away,” you said sharply.

Pietro sighed and pulled you off the dance floor. “Can we go talk somewhere more quiet? I’ve fucked up this all up, and I don’t want to cross our wires wrong anymore.”

“Yeah, I know a place.”

****

“How did you know about this?” Pietro glanced around the rooftop garden, empty and off limits for this event.

“I attended a S.H.I.E.L.D. event here a lifetime ago.” You took a swig from the bottle of champagne you stole from the kitchen on the way.

Last time you had been up here, your parents and ex were in attendance and everything was seemingly perfect. Your ex was still a secret hydra agent the whole time after all.

“I hope it was a happy time.”

“If I forget all that happened after, sure,” you said with a small laugh and handed the bottle to Pietro, who graciously accepted. “Not that I would want too, completely,” you added quietly.

“Y/N,” he started, turning to face you. You still looked out over the city, unsure and scared of what was going to be said. “I wish I could take back this last year.”

You sucked in a sharp breath as an ache started to spread across through your chest.

“After I am almost died for the second time in my life, I got scared for many reasons. And I didn’t handle it well. Do you know why I got hurt?”

You shook your head, not trusting your voice at that moment.

“I hesitated between you and Wanda. It took me a day or two to figure that out. I was going for Wanda but then I saw a gun on you and I changed course.”

“I would have been fine,” you assured him. “I was fine.”

“Which scared me even more. I know you will be fine 99% of the time. But in that moment all I could think about was protecting you. That what if that time it was the 1% of the time you wouldn’t be fine?”

“Unlikely, but I get that.” You turned to him and met his intense gaze. “There is a 75% chance you’ll be fine, but that 25% feels so much bigger.”

Pietro nodded and continued, “In that moment, you became more of a priority than Wanda, and that scared me. It still scares me. She has been my priority since we were children, but you overroad that. It felt like I betrayed her.”

“Is that why she’s been mad at me since then?” You frowned. It had been hard to lose the close relationship with Wanda while Pietro was also pushing you away.

“No. She’s mad at your for not breaking it off with me after I started pushing you away. She thinks you deserved better.”

“The both of you are terrible at communication,” you mused, and turned back to look over the city.

“Which brings me to also why I’ve been ass.” Pietro took a deep breath.

“An astronomical ass,” you agreed.

“Astronomical, yes. What scares me the most is loving you and losing you.” Your gaze snapped back to him, dumbfounded. “I thought that if I just pushed you away enough, I would never have to risk feeling that. I tried to quit you cold turkey, but I’m selfish and can’t go a week without your touch. I’m so selfish that I don’t want—”

“Wait—”

“To see you with any other man. I don’t want another man to even—”

“Pietro, wait—”

“touch or flirt with you. But I realize now, I was going to lose you even more if I pushed you away. I love you and I hurt you, and I’m so—”

You covered his mouth with your hand, stunning him into silence. “You love me?”

His quirked an eyebrow at you and pulled your hand away from his mouth. “Yes, I love you. What little I had of you was the only thing keeping me sane. But it was also driving me insane. It was torture to leave you abruptly every time when all I wanted to do was burrow further into you and never leave.”

A shudder ran up your spine and Pietro smirked. You were simultaneously relieved, joyful, and annoyed at the same time at that look.

“You’re a fucking idiot, you know that?” You smacked his shoulder. “When has pretending not to love someone ever worked? We’ve watched movies together where the hero hurts the love interest to protect them, and it doesn’t work.”

“Well, those love interests weren’t also superheroes,” Pietro defended himself.

“Do superheroes not also have feelings?”

Pietro rolled his eyes. “Like you said, I’m an idiot.”

“A fucking idiot,” you corrected.

“You make me one, honestly,” he chuckled and reached out to caress your cheek. “But it was more than a selfish decision too. Just so you know.” His thumbs brushed your cheek bones, leaving trails of tingling skin. “I got hurt and then you got hurt trying to help me. I thought pulling away would stop whatever we had going on and you would be safe if you were less inclined to save my ass.”

“It was my decision to make!” you said, letting your annoyance penetrate every syllable.

“Yes, but we didn’t know at the time that your powers can be drained. You may have been less likely to jump straight into a line of fire if I got hurt again.”

“You’ve watched too many hero movies now that I think about it. So much so that you think like the hero. Doubting how stubborn the love interest is.” You narrowed your eyes at his amused expression. “Not realizing that as strongly as the hero feels for the love interest, the love interest feels just as much. That she would crawl through broken glass to save the hero.”

“And I ask that you promise me not to, dragoste.” His hand slide onto the back of your neck and he pulled you flush to him. His heat welcome in the cool summer air. “It hurts me more to see you hurt because of me.”

“Well, you’re going to have to learn to live without that promise.” You brushed your lips against his. “Would you make the same promise to me?”

A rumble of disagreement vibrated in his chest and he held you tighter. “I can’t make that promise.”

“Well, it appears we are at an impasse.”

“Can we just agree not to get hurt as much as possible?” Pietro nuzzled into your neck, his hands skating down your spine.

“I think I can try,” you snorted, tilting your head back to give him full access to you neck.

“If you let me, I will love you with my whole being. I’ve been biting—” he nipped as the crook of your neck and you yelped. “—at the bit to do so for so long.”

“I think the phrase is ‘champing at the bit’,” you breathlessly teased. “But I think I can be inclined to let you love me. Would you mind showing me?”

Pietro pulled away momentarily, resulting in an annoyed grunt from you.

“Were you going to let Barnes kiss you?” His eyes were dark and molten on yours.

“If I said yes, you would get even more possessive and it’s kind of hot. But no, I was going to pull away when you intervened to keep me to yourself. Because I love you, Pietro.”

“I can’t believe he was going to kiss you.” Pietro came back to your neck and his hands fiddled with the silk of your dress just above your ass. “And while you are painfully beautiful in your dress, I would much rather see you out of it.”

****

Y/N Y/L/N CAUSING RIFT IN AVENGERS

Tensions were high at last night’s Stark Industries gala. Y/N Y/L/N, a.k.a. Vitality, was seen to be getting extremely cozy with not only Bucky Barnes, a.k.a. Winter Soldier, but also Pietro Maximoff, a.k.a. Quicksilver. Our source says Y/L/N was all over Barnes at the beginning of the night until Maximoff almost came to blows with his teammate over her. How many more teammates has Y/L/N—

Your phone was ripped from your hands and tossed onto the nightstand. You looked up to see Pietro, only wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and holding the morning’s provisions he had just gone in search of.

“Do not read that garbage,” he chided, “She’s going to be up your ass for a bit but she’ll get bored.”

“She is not going to let this go anytime soon, Piet. You poked the proverbial bear by basically ghosting her. And she saw us leave together!”

“Everyone saw us leave together, because I wanted them to,” Pietro admitted and slid the plate over to you. It was an assortment of fruits and a couple of bagels.

“Well you succeeded. I will avoid the internet for the foreseeable future. Your fangirls are going to have a field day with me,” you sighed and stifled a yawn.

Pietro’s eyes tracked your movements and trailed to your bare backside. “I could get used to this.”

“Used to what?” you played dumb, wanting to hear the answer.

“You naked in our bed every morning.”

You paused from grabbing a strawberry. “Our bed?”

“You’re moving into my room,” he stated, sliding up over your back and ghosting his lips over your shoulder before he bit down at the base of your neck.

You did you best not to gurgle in response. That spot always sent every nerve into a frenzy.

“I will not spend another night or morning away from you, if I can help it,” he murmured and gripped your hip bones in his warm, skillful hands.

“Your moving this fast, huh Maximoff?” you tried to keep a level tone, but your voice still came out breathy as he pinned you further to mattress under his weight.

“This,” he emphasized by pressing himself into your backside, letting you feel just what he meant, “has been going on for two years, dragoste. So not fast at all. Besides, some things don’t need to be fast. I can be quite good at taking things slow, as you know.”

His teeth nibbled at you again. “I know all to well, you are torturously slow sometimes,” you panted.

“You love the result though, no?” His lips began to trail down your back.

You bit back a moan as he hiked your hips up, ass in the air. His fingers dancing dangerously over you clit. You tried to push again him, but he quickly held you in place.

“So eager, dragoste? It’s only been an hour.”

You growled in frustration. “Wipe that smirk off your face, Pietro.”

“You can’t even see my face,” he argued.

“Oh, eat me.”

“Gladly,” he grinned, “after you answer my question.”

“Of course,” you whined, aching from the teasing.

“Good girl.”

His mouth was on you before you could even moan from being called a good girl.

****

“Alright, who won?” Tony looked around to the team that had made it to the kitchen that morning.

“Won what?” Nat asked.

“The bet.”

“What bet?”

“For how long it would take Pietro and Y/N to acknowledge their feelings and go public. I had 1 year since we placed the bet, we’re at 10 months since the bet.” Tony looked to Wanda, Steve, and Bruce.

“You guys knew?” Nat gaped at them.

“You didn’t?” Steve was shocked. “Nat, even I could see it.”

“No, Steve knows only because he was unfortunate to walk in on them in the sparing room onetime. They did not notice,” Tony rolled eyes.

“And you Bruce?” Nat asked, she couldn’t believe she’d not seen it.

“I was unfortunate to walk in on them in the med bay once after a missions, they did not notice.” Bruce grimaced. “I just needed a bandaid.”

“All I needed to see was their constant fuck me eyes to know. It sometimes can come off as playful or antagonistic looks, but they may be one and the same for them.” Tony shrugged.

“Well, I lost. I thought it would only take a month for them to work their shit out,” Wanda groaned.

“I had six months, so that puts me four months off,” Steve sighed.

“I had three months, I had more faith in them than I should have,” Bruce conceded.

“Well that makes me the winner. They are both stubborn idiots. What’s our next wager? When to expect a mini-avenger now that they are bound to be stupid-in-love idiots?” Tony teased.

“Not funny, Stark,” Nat grunted.

***

REQUESTED TAGS: @fxllen0stxrs, @littlemarvelstan8, fandomenbylover

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leviismybby · 1 year ago

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If only I knew

Levi Ackerman x fem!reader, angsty angst, slight fluff but not too much

With the titans being gone and the world healing, people move on Levi Ackerman is no exception, he sits outside on the balcony, his eyes looking at people who pass down below. Every single one of them has their own story, their own struggles and challenges. He wondered sometimes what the story was of that old baker down the street that sells those sweet pastries he brings to the kids he is helping sometimes or that woman who always went on evening walks. He sees families, couples, mothers with their children, all of them with a different life than his own.

Levi wasn't going to complain, this was the peace he fought for, he wishes sometimes that the people he cared about were still here but he learned to accept his freedom and stop feeling guilty about it, this is what they would want for him. As he looks at a young couple pass by, his thoughts wander back to you. How were you? Have you been doing good? Have you moved on from him? He thinks about you way too much and wonders if you think about him too. What if it was different? What if you were here with him? Enjoying the morning air just like he is....

He shakes his head and takes the now cooled-down cup of tea on the table next to him, he catches himself doing what he told himself not to do, going through all of those what-ifs that do nothing but put him in a spiral of thought. It's a habit he is working on getting rid of, there is nothing he has if he keeps living in the past. Levi has no regrets, that what he tells himself but, you were his regret, he regretted not going back to you and if he could go back in time for only one minute, he would go back to you.

His memories of you are still crystal clear, he hasn't forgotten what you looked like, how could he? You were his first and only love.

The underground wasn't a pleasant place to live, Levi scoffs as he cleans the floor, he tries to be quiet not to wake you up as you're still sleeping. His eyes look at the clock from time to time, he wonders if Furlan and Isabele have managed to get themselves a decent breakfast, he left them a note where hid some of the food supplies. He spent the night at your place, recently finding it a guilty pleasure of his. Does he feel bad for lying to his friends about where he is? Yes, he does. Does he feel like it's a need to keep you safe? Yes, he does. Both of them know about you and that you're Levi's girlfriend but Levi likes to keep your relationship a secret as much as he can.

As he continues to clean the floor, he eventually hears footsteps coming his way and looks up to see you leaning against the doorframe watching him clean. Your place wasn't big, you had two rooms, one was used as your bedroom and the other as your kitchen. "Well good morning, handsome." You smile as you speak and Levi rolls his eyes as he stands up. "Didn't I tell you to stop with the nicknames?" The smile doesn't leave your face, you can't help but tease him, it's your favorite thing to do. "No, you're handsome."

He approaches you and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. "Since you're already trying to suck up from the early fucking morning. Have about you make the bed while I make breakfast?" You groan. "Fine, we did leave it a mess." Levi can't help but let the side of his lip quirked up slightly, you two were rather intense any time you made love, he enjoyed it thoroughly. "Of course we did, you're a wild one in the sheets."

That morning when you two were eating breakfast, he noticed a discomfort on your face. "Name, what's the matter?" You rub your neck, feeling nausea again, the fourth morning in a row. "I am...fine just.." You stop for a second taking a deep breath. "I feel like I have to throw up." Quickly you stand up from the table and bend over the skin to throw up, Levi follows swiftly behind you, holding your hair and rubbing your back gently. After you're done, he reaches for the napkin and wipes your mouth before cleaning the sink as you sit down. "It's most likely a flu, Furlan had it last week." Levi says as he kneels before you and puts his hand over your lap. "Rest, I'll take care of everything."

Levi's memory trip is interrupted by his doorbell ringing, he stands up and takes his cane and makes his way to the door, cursing his leg. Opening the door, his eyes go slightly wide as he sees Jean and Connie, now both even more mature than the last time he saw them. They were in their early twenties now, both mature men, well as mature as Jean and Connie can get anyway. "You two...this is a surprise." Levi says and steps aside to let them in, usually when any of them visit they sent a letter prior so something must've happened for them to come all the way here.

"How's your leg, ca- Levi?" Jean almost face palms at Connie's slip-up, he didn't blame him however, it was a force of habit and long years of Levi being the Survey Corps captain. "It has its days. I don't need the shitty wheelchair today, at least not yet." He says as he leads them into the living room to sit down, they sit down on the sofa opposite Levi who sits down on a chair. "Do you two want something to drink?" Levi asks despite the fact that he can see that the two were in a hurry to tell him something. "No thank you. We won't be long." Jean says and takes his hat off. "We uh, the reason for our visit is tho." He pulls out a photo from his coat pocket and puts it on the table in front of Levi.

Levi arches an eyebrow for a second before taking a look at the photograph. There's silence for a few moments, this time it's Connie that speaks again. "We got it from Historia, she got the file for the newest recruits who just signed up for the military and when she came across the photo, she immediately called us." Of course, the new rule on Paradis is that you have to be 16 years of age to sign up to train for the military, Historia can't do much about the tight grip that the new regiment has on people but she made sure that kids no longer have to train at early age.

Silence falls over the room again as Levi observed the person in the photo. “This boy…..he looks familiar…” Levi takes a look at the photo better, thousands of questions going on through his mind. Jean and Connie look at each other, not knowing how to approach the situation, Jean clears his throat before speaking. “That's why we brought you that picture, we thought you might be able to tell us who it is.”

Levi keeps looking at the photograph. “And how old is he? Do you know?” He looks up, his face showing curiosity. “He is 16.” Connie’s words seem to leave Levi thinking even more. 16 years old…he saw you last 16 years ago. “16….” Levi sighs and looks at the photo again, his eyes pay close attention to the boy’s hair, jaw and eyes. His eyes darted over the mirror in the hallway then back at the image in his hand.

Dammit name. Levi says in his head, this boy had his features, his gray eyes, his sharp jaw, the dark hair, those nose all of it, his. He looks at Jean and Connie who are both waiting for an explanation, an explanation that Levi does not have, he does not doubt that this is his kid but he cannot tell them something he didn't even know about. Now he starts to feel stupid, no wonder you were having all of those sick mornings and suddenly started to crave food that you usually had a dislike for, you were pregnant, pregnant with his baby. Another money creeps into his mind...

"Be careful." You say as you watch Levi put the gear on. "Why are these people after you anyway?" He doesn't answer you as he focuses on strapping his gear on the right. "I don't know. All I know is that I have to go above ground to kill that blondie." Blondie? He must be referring to that tall blonde guy, the one you saw last week wearing a dark green cloak with wings of freedom on it. "I am doing this for us. If I get my hands on those papers we can finally go live above ground." He approaches you and wraps his hands around your waist, his eyes locked with yours. "I'll be back." Levi says, taking your face in his hands when he notices your eyes get watery. "When?" Your voice is shaky. "I'll be back." He repeats his words before kissing you passionately.

"We just, never saw you with anyone that way so it was a surprise to see the photo." Jean's voice interrupts Levi's train of thought, he sighs putting the photo on the desk. "There was someone before I joined the Survey Corps....Name." The way your name rolled off his lips after so many years makes it almost painful for Levi, as much as it's hard for him to speak, he continues. "She was someone I met when I was young in the underground, we were together for a long time before I went above ground with Erwin and Miche."

Connie knows that he should let Levi speak but his curiosity gets the best of him. "What happened? Did you not go back for her?" That question hurts Levi, not because he didn't try to go back to you but because he did and when he went back, you weren't there. "I did, so many times. I let myself be stopped by the suffering of my comrades too many times but I did. About two years after writing letters to her and her never responding, I went back and she...was gone. Her stuff was still there, most of it scarred across the floor like someone had broken in. I went back above ground and accepted two options, one that she was either dead, killed by the criminals in the underground or that she parished into the dirty streets and died of illness.....she was feeling ill before I left and of course, it never clicked in my mind that she was pregnant with my child."

Jean and Connie listen as Levi talks, even they can feel the dread and longing from his voice. "So I left it. Buried it deep in me with only memories of her to hold. But this.." He takes a photo of his son in his hand again, he closes his eyes for a moment trying not to let his emotions get the better of him. "Changes everything. Do you know more about him? His name?" They shake their heads, maybe Historia did tell them a name but they were too in shock from seeing the photo to react. "I think Queen Historia would be welcome to speak with you over the telephone, the problem is it's hard to reach her."

"No." Levi says. "I will speak to her personally, I need to know more." It was a sentence Levi didn't think he would ever say, going back to a place that considers him a traitor. His son may be one of those people for all he knows, he did grow up on Paradis but he has faith in you, that you told him about his father. He would understand if you didn't too, you had every right to after how he left. "Are you sure that's smart? People on Paradis are rather hostile with former members of the survey corps." They were telling Levi what he already knew, he reads the newspapers and listens to the radio, he knows better than anyone the injustice the new regiment does to him and his fallen friends and comrades however, it's his son, his flesh and blood. As much he wishes that he was strong enough to let it go, he can't, even if you remarried, even if you forgot him, he had to see you again, to meet his he didn't know even existed until about thirty minutes ago.

"I know and it probably isn't smart. That won't stop me, now that I know about him...I can't let it go."

---------------------------------------------------

Levi can't move, it's like he is stuck in one place. He holds onto his cane as he watches from afar, his breath hitches in his throat. His son is just a few steps away but it's like something is holding Levi back as just stands there, looking at him. Regret starts to creep in again, he was 16, and Levi has missed so much of his life, he missed his first steps, his first words, his first day of school. Leo, that was his name, Armin told him when he came to Paradis.

It has changed a lot, there are a lot of familiar places but yet they seem so foreign, he can see his comrades in every corner, hear their laughter. He can see himself in Leo as he trains, very clearly skilled and fast. Levi wanted nothing more than to talk to him, what would he say if he does? He was 41 years old now, will his son hear him out? Does he ever know about him?

There's a loud whistle suggesting that the training is over, Levi's eyes follow Leo as he walks over to the bench and drinks some water. It's like looking in a mirror a few years back, they looked so much alike, it wouldn't take anyone who knew Levi personally to figure out who Leo was. Levi looks away for a moment thinking to himself. If he goes over there and talks to him, he will figure out everything. What happened to you, he would hear his son talk, get to know him if he lets him to.

Instead, Levi turns around, he gulps, trying to surpass the tears in his eyes. Or maybe it's better that his son doesn't get to know him, that you don't see him again. Maybe Levi isn't as strong as he thought he was, he looks back and sees that Leo is talking to his peers, clearly enjoying the company of his friends. That makes Levi smile slightly, he seems like a good guy, he didn't expect otherwise, you raised him. Levi was about to call out but then he sees someone approach Leo again, this time he knows who it is, it was you.

Levi's eyes go wide and he moves a little closer, not enough for you two to see him but enough for him to hear your conversation. "Hey ma." Leo smiles at you as you sit next to him. "Here you go, now remember to return the basket after you're done." Levi watches as Leo takes a look at the basket, his hands going through it. "Ma, I told you not to bake. I can't have too much sweets in my diet." Despite his words, he takes a bite out of a cookie, Levi knows himself how good of a cook you are, he can almost taste the flavor in his mouth.

You were stunning, you matured and Levi couldn't find you more beautiful. He is happy for you, happy that his son has so much respect and love for you. Leo finishes the cookie and then takes the basket from you, his mouth full of food. "Leo, slow down." You scold, putting your hands on your hips. "Sorry ma, missed your cooking." There's something that you feel on your back, like someone is looking at you from afar and what's worse is that it feels like deja vu, like you have felt that type of stare before.

You turn around and Levi is quick to hide behind a wall, he sees that you keep looking for a couple of minutes. "Ma? Is everything okay?" Leo asks his mother, trying to see what she is looking at. "Yes, it's all fine...I just felt someone looking at me is all." You turn back to face your son and Levi finally sums up the courage, he comes around the corner slightly and starts walking towards you until....

"So ma, how is dad doing?" That stops Levi in his tracks, dad? But he...he was- "He is doing good and remember that next time he will be the one visiting so try to act more.... Like a soldier." Leo rolls his eyes at that. "Like hell I will, I am the most skilled one here, it's not like I can't act human just because I have duties to attend." Levi hears the words, unlike him, Leo is putting the people dear to him over duty. You laugh a little and then pinch Leo on the cheek. "Alright now, don't be rude to dad he cares for you."

It was like a dagger to Levi, you did move on, and you did forget him. He turns around not wanting to listen to that conversation anymore, it was killing him inside. His son...doesn't even know about him. If only he knew, if he visited you earlier all those years ago. If only he stayed...while you would've been in the underground, you would've been together and he would have a son that knew him.

-------------------------------------------------- Taglist: @youre-ackermine @the-milk-anon @humanitys-strongest-bamf @romantichomicide95 @mrsackermannx @sixpennydame @svftackerman @hhighkey @cometlevi @notgoodforlife @levisbrat25 @randomlevithoughts @ackermendick @saenora @loveackermannn @levismylover @laurenzitaa @missyasma @sad-darksoul @thebobaprincess @la-undercover-latina @levilxvr @bpdtistic

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puddingyun · 10 months ago

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tone . ݁₊ ⊹ k.hj

hongjoong x reader

18+ mdni

: 985 words, smut, auralism/voice kink, fingering, some dirty talk :

day 5 of fff24 (catching up since i got sick (╥ᆺ╥；)) ♡

"I'm sorry I'm so late, baby."

Hongjoong's voice pulled you out of the light sleep you'd fallen into. A smile played on your lips as you felt your boyfriend crawl into bed behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close.

"I got so caught up I didn't realise what time it was," he whispered. He didn't sound sleepy at all, even though when you opened your eyes to squint at your phone the screen displayed a staggering 3:00 AM. You hummed softly as one of Hongjoong's hands slid up your pyjama top to rest against your stomach. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"It's okay. Your feet are cold," you mumbled, which made Hongjoong giggle behind you. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and tangled his feet even more with yours, pulling you both flush together. "Keep talking, Joongie."

"Okay," Hongjoong murmured, his fingers moving back and forth against your skin. "I missed you all day. Missed hearing you talk, and your footsteps around the apartment. I kept wondering what you were up to. What did you get up to, hon?"

Your mind was so fuzzy from listening to Hongjoong talk that you almost forgot to reply.

"Uhm," you stalled, pressing your thighs together as you tried to remember what you did while Hongjoong was out. "I finished some work in the morning after you left and in the afternoon I watched a movie... Some supernatural thing, like a rip-off of The Ring."

"Just a typical day, huh?" Hongjoong hummed, stretching his fingers out to let his pinky rest beneath the waistband of your panties. When you mumbled out a soft 'uh-huh', Hongjoong exhaled quietly, amused by your sleepy voice. You felt butterflies fill your stomach at the sound of it. "Mine was the same, just finishing things up and brainstorming new- hey, baby, why're you squirming so much?"

"Nothing," you huffed softly, though you could feel your cheeks heating up when he called you out. Hongjoong grunted, a small sound that told you he didn't really believe your reply, and then sighed so that his breath fanned out over the back of your neck. "Just finish telling me about your day?"

"Okay, well... I've been picking up the guitar more often. Maybe tomorrow I'll show you the songs I've learned," he rambled on, not pausing to mention the way you were almost constantly shifting your thighs, seeking friction to accompany the warmth growing between your legs at the sound of Hongjoong's voice. "...I was going to get an energy drink but one of the staff members kept going on about how they aren't good for you so I ended up getting a coffee instead. But then later on I saw Wooyoungie with one and nobody was telling him to be careful so I don't know what that was about."

You made a non-committal sound in response, trying to pretend like you were listening when in reality Hongjoong's words were all getting muddled in your head, blurred around the edges and scratching an itch you hadn't noticed was there.

"Baby?" Hongjoong's voice called softly.

"Hm?" you replied, pouting at his voice coming to a stop even if it was just to call you a petname.

"Are you getting off on this?" he asked, and this time you could hear a smirk in his voice. You stuttered, trying to come up with a believable answer, but Hongjoong cut you off with a giggle. "It's okay. You're cute. Want me to finish telling you about my day?"

You paused, weighing up your embarrassment against your desire to deal with the sudden wave of arousal so you could get back to sleep. Eventually, the latter won out, and you relaxed in Hongjoong's hold again.

"Yes please," you murmured, feeling like you were asking for a bedtime story. Hongjoong's lips pressed against your shoulder in a feverish kiss before he resumed his earlier ramblings.

This time, as he spoke, his hand slowly moved beneath your panties. When his fingers came into contact with the wetness on your lips his breath hitched momentarily, then his fingers began rubbing circles against your clit with just enough pressure to make your breathing uneven.

"And then we had a meeting to try on some new stage outfits, they got us fitted and everything... The colours seemed sorta off to me but they said that under the stage lights and all of that it'd look fine," he mumbled, his voice slowly becoming rougher around the edges as your arousal became more evident. Your shaky breaths turned into hushed moans, skin tingling everywhere that Hongjoong touched and the pool of arousal in your stomach getting dangerously close to spilling over.

You felt two of his fingers press into you, and as he bent them inside of you his palm rubbed against your clit, making you groan into your pillow. A soft nip to your shoulder made you gasp, Hongjoong's teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark.

"You're so fucking cute. I come home and don't even say anything dirty to you and here you are, making a mess on my fingers," he mumbled against your skin, his fingers picking up their pace. "All I have to do is talk to you about my day and you're rubbing your thighs together trying to get off. You're so fucking precious."

The way the curse word rolled off of his tongue was enough to push you over the edge, clenching around his fingers as you came hard. Behind you Hongjoong trailed a line of kisses along your skin, lips curved into a smile the whole time.

Once your breathing had slowed back down Hongjoong gave your waist a tight squeeze.

"Let me get you some water baby," he whispered, kissing your temple as he got up. "Then I'll let you get back to sleep."

#pirateeznet #joongfryefff24 #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader

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edenesth · 4 months ago

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TWTHH Spinoff: Try Again [2]

Pairing: assistant!Jongho x new maid!reader

AU: historical au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 7.6k

Summary: Among the many staff members at General Park's estate, Jongho stood out for his dedication, leaving no room for personal indulgence. Convinced that love and marriage would detract from his commitment to serving the general, he had resigned himself to a life of solitude. But his conviction was challenged with the arrival of an annoyingly perfect Miss Kwon, a new maid whose kindness and efficiency began to make him rethink his life choices.

Part 1 | Main Story | Spinoff Masterlist

"Ugh, he's such an idiot," Seonghwa mumbled, rubbing a frustrated hand against his temple as he entered the House of Lotus that night. His wife smirked from her position on the bed. "Yeah, reminds me of you. Men become utter fools when they develop feelings for someone."

He pouted, shedding the outer layer of his hanbok before carefully joining her on the bed, mindful of her round belly. "Am not," he argued, but she raised a challenging brow. "Are too." He huffed but pulled her close regardless. "Am not."

She glared up at him. "Are too, General Park. You're being one right now." He couldn't resist the grin creeping onto his face at how adorable she was, despite being about to become a mother. "Yes, my love. You're always right. I'm just messing with you, you know that." She stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "That's more like it," she said, melting into her husband's warm embrace.

"Let him be, Hwa. I know you're frustrated, but he's at a stage where nothing you say will get through. He'll learn on his own eventually." He nodded in defeat, sighing when she pressed her lips against his jaw.

"Now, let us sleep."

"Yes, ma'am."

On the other side of the estate, you lay awake in bed, the events of the afternoon replaying in your mind like a broken record. You tried to reevaluate your priorities here, but one memory stood out starkly.

"Don't think, Miss Kwon. Just do your job and leave me alone. And it's Assistant Choi to you."

Those words pierced your heart more deeply than he would ever know. After all those moments and progress, were you a fool to believe you were finally on good terms? Was it naive to assume you were now… friends? A small, hopeful part of you even dared to wish for something more.

But now, you understand.

You had grown up a people pleaser all your life. And if leaving Jongho alone was what he truly wanted, you would grant him your absence. The last thing you ever wanted was to be a bother or annoyance to anyone. You had tried your best, but even a saint has their limits, and you had reached yours.

Feeling a profound sense of betrayal, you replayed his harsh words over and over in your mind. Each repetition cut deeper, shattering the fragile hope you had nurtured. You had seen glimpses of a softer side in the assistant, moments where his stern exterior seemed to crack. Those moments had given you hope—hope that there was more to your relationship than a mere formality. But now, it was clear that those glimpses were just that—brief and fleeting.

You had spent your life striving to make others happy, always going the extra mile to please those around you, to earn their approval and affection. It was in your nature to help, to support, to be there for others. But now, faced with his cold rejection, you were once again reminded that sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it will never be enough. The weight of his words pressed down on you, and the sting of rejection was almost unbearable.

It was just like with my parents…

Determined to respect his wishes, you resolved to distance yourself from him. It wasn't easy. Every interaction, every shared moment, had left an indelible mark on your heart. But you had to protect yourself, to preserve whatever dignity you had left. You would focus on your duties, keeping your head down and your heart guarded.

As you moved through your days, you couldn't help but feel a profound sadness. You missed the camaraderie you thought you had built, the unspoken connection you felt. Yet, you reminded yourself that you deserved to be around people who appreciated you and valued your presence. If Jongho wanted distance, you would give it to him, even if it broke your heart in the process.

The assistant had initially been grateful that you had listened and left him alone. He remembered tensing up the first time he saw you after he had told you off so rudely the other day. He breathed a sigh of relief when you only nodded politely in acknowledgement before walking the other way. But as days passed, it became hard not to notice how you were beginning to avoid him like he had first done to you. Whenever he tried to speak to you regarding work, you would dismiss him and redirect him to someone else.

Today was another one of those days.

He straightened up, noticing you heading his way. He cleared his throat, trying to act as nonchalant as possible as he stepped in front of you, intentionally blocking your path.

"Miss Kwon, I'd hate to trouble you, but I'm going to need you to—"

You sighed, bowing. "Apologies, Assistant Choi, but I have more than enough on my plate as it is. If this does not concern maternity or relate to the mistress in any way, please seek assistance from someone else." Without waiting for his response, you walked away.

He blinked in surprise as he watched you go. The indifference in your voice and the quick dismissal stung more than he cared to admit. It was a stark contrast to the warmth and eagerness you had once shown him. His initial relief turned into an uncomfortable realisation that your absence, your avoidance, was affecting him more than he had anticipated.

Whatever, it's better this way.

Jongho tried to convince himself, but it was no use. This treatment affected him more than he liked to admit, yet his stubbornness prevented him from addressing it. Out of spite, he became even meaner to you, thinking that maintaining a cold front would help him regain control.

One day, as he passed by the House of Lotus, he saw you tidying up Lady Park's pavilion, now cluttered with various items. When you felt his gaze, you turned and found him staring. Flustered, he huffed and crossed his arms over his chest. "I'd be careful not to break anything if I were you. Every single item here is worth more than you ever will be." He cursed himself internally after uttering those words, wondering why he had to be so cruel. His fists clenched in regret when you let out a shaky breath and nodded obediently.

"I am aware, Assistant Choi. Please do not worry; I will treat them with the utmost care."

Why didn't you fight back? he wondered. The way you did when he had questioned you and your skills before? He hated that you were giving him minimal reactions, as if speaking to him would kill you. The realisation hit him hard—he was the hypocrite, condemning your distance when he had been the one to push you away.

Jongho's frustration mounted as he realised that your avoidance was cutting deeper than he had anticipated. Despite his best efforts to distance himself from you, each time you turned away, it stirred a pang of regret within him. At the thought, he found himself arranging the books in the general's study with more force than usual.

"Woah, any harder and you'll have to replace them all with new ones. I'm not sure your salary can cover that expense, Jongho. What's gotten your panties in a knot?" Seonghwa's sudden appearance beside him startled the assistant into a cough and a bow.

In truth, the younger man struggled to pinpoint the source of his frustration—whether it was directed at himself, you, or both. He knew he had no right to be angry with you; after all, you had only done exactly what he asked. It was a constant war between his mind and heart, and he was sick of it.

"Nothing, sir. Just a bit... overwhelmed with work," he lied, avoiding the general's knowing gaze.

Seonghwa sighed, crossing his arms. "You know, you're a terrible liar. This wouldn't have anything to do with Miss Kwon, would it?"

Jongho's silence spoke volumes. He continued to arrange the books, each movement more agitated than the last. "It's just... she's avoiding me," he finally admitted, his voice laced with frustration.

"Isn't that what you wanted?" Seonghwa asked, raising an eyebrow.

The younger man clenched his fists, his knuckles white. "I thought it was. But now... I don't know."

"Maybe you should figure out what you really want before you destroy everything around you," General Park advised, his tone gentle but firm. "Including your own peace of mind."

He nodded slowly, the weight of his employer's words sinking in. He realised he needed to stop this war within himself. The constant push and pull were tearing him apart, and he couldn't bear it any longer.

That night, the general returned to his wife's side with a triumphant grin. "Things between those two will be fine now. Just you wait, my love." Lady Park shook her head. "Are you sure? I wouldn't be so optimistic if I were you."

And once again, her intuition proved correct.

Despite Jongho's desire to mend the rift between you, his pride and reluctance eventually held him back. Much to Seonghwa's disappointment, nothing changed. The silent war between Assistant Choi and the new maid persisted, casting a palpable tension over the household, noticed by nearly everyone.

Eunsook sighed heavily as she noticed the usually alert assistant zoning out for what felt like the thousandth time during their weekly inventory check. "What's bothering you, Jongho-yah? You know you can talk to me, right?" the elderly woman asked gently.

The general's aide finally snapped out of his trance, his eyes drifting away from the window where you had been standing moments ago, discussing herbs for the mistress' tonic with another maid.

"I…" He hesitated, tempted to confide in her. Eunsook had been like a mother to him throughout his employment here. But he shook his head, recognising how unprofessional discussing personal matters during work hours would be. More importantly, his pride stood in the way. Admitting his feelings would make them real and expose his vulnerability. He was Choi Jongho, after all. The last thing he needed was to be seen as a lovesick fool.

With a firm shake of his head, he forced a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Eunsook. Maybe just a bit tired, nothing a good night's sleep can't fix. I'll rest earlier tonight, don't worry."

She shook her head in disbelief as she watched the stubborn young man return to work, his usual mask of nonchalance firmly back in place. She could see the turmoil beneath his facade, but he was determined to keep it hidden, even from himself.

These kids are hopeless, I swear...

"Good job, everyone. Go and get some rest for the night." The assistant nodded approvingly at the completed tasks for the day and dismissed the group of estate staff assigned under him.

He watched as the servants dispersed, heading towards their respective quarters. Giving the tidy inventory one last look, he dusted off his hands in satisfaction and began walking towards his own room, ready to retire for the night. All he could think about was the comfort of his mattress. He couldn’t wait to lie down and forget about everything, especially you. Thoughts of you had been making him restless, and he truly loathed it. He chastised himself for being caught by Eunsook earlier. This was bad, and he couldn't keep letting you affect him this way.

As if the world were adamant about ruining his plans, your familiar petite frame appeared in his vision. You were hunched over a basin, scrubbing one of the mistress' hanboks clean. What in the world were you doing out here in the cold of the night? Everyone else was either heading to bed or already asleep. And here you were, performing a chore that could very well make you sick in this weather.

He took a hesitant step towards you, wanting to lecture you, but then stepped back, remembering how awkward things were between you now. Yet, he didn't have the heart to walk away. With a huff, he pushed himself to approach you.

"Miss Kwon, shouldn't this be a task done during the day? Just because you're out here late doesn't mean you're hardworking. If anything, it shows you can't finish your tasks on time during work hours." He mentally cursed himself for always letting such harsh words slip, as if showing that he cared was such a horrendous thing.

You halted your actions momentarily at the sound of his voice before continuing. "Good evening, Assistant Choi," you said, turning slightly to eye him from the corner of your eye, not granting him the pleasure of your full attention. "I understand what you mean, but I hope you also understand that a heavily pregnant woman like the mistress might not always have full control of her bladder like the rest of us and that unplanned mishaps can happen. Do you suppose I should leave the lady in her wet garments? Is it wrong that I am getting things done on my own time? Please do not let me stop you from getting your rest. I am fully capable of managing my own time. Thank you very much. Now, if you'll excuse me," you answered firmly, not paying him any more mind.

Jongho stood there, feeling a mix of frustration and regret. He hated the way he spoke to you, but he couldn't seem to help it. Watching you continue your task, he realised that your dedication and resilience only made him admire you more, even if he was too stubborn to admit it. "Fine."

If he thought that would be the last time he found you out late, he was sorely mistaken. Over the next few days, he noticed a troubling pattern: you were working harder than ever, often staying up late to complete various chores long after the mistress had gone to bed. As if that wasn't concerning enough, you were already up and working by the time he started his day, which was unusually early. He began to wonder if you were getting any rest at all.

Despite his stubbornness, the assistant couldn't help but worry about your well-being. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the way you sometimes swayed on your feet from exhaustion and the quiet determination in your every movement. It bothered him more than he would like to admit, but he refused to acknowledge that he cared. The thought of you overworking yourself began to weigh heavily on his mind.

One evening, he stood by the window of the general's study, watching as you meticulously swept the courtyard. The sun had long set, and the estate was bathed in the soft glow of lanterns. He clenched his fists, fighting the urge to go out there and tell you to stop. But his pride kept him rooted in place.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Why does she have to be so damn stubborn?" he muttered to himself.

Just then, the head maid entered the room with a tray of tea. She set it down on the desk and looked at him with a knowing expression. "Still worrying about her?"

Jongho stiffened, then tried to play it off with a nonchalant shrug. "I'm not worrying, Eunsook. It's just… She's working too hard. It's not good for her."

The elderly woman raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying his act. "You know, Jongho-yah, it's okay to care about someone. Even if it's hard to admit."

He scoffed, turning away from the window. "I'm not admitting anything. She's just… being reckless."

Eunsook shook her head with a soft chuckle. "You can keep telling yourself that, but everyone can see it. Just don't wait too long to do something about it."

As she left the room, Jongho's gaze drifted back to you. He knew she was right, but his pride and fear of vulnerability kept him silent. Yet, with each passing day, the thought of you overworking yourself increasingly bothered him, threatening to break through the walls he had built around his heart.

About to retire for the night, the assistant once again spotted you still busy at work. Tonight, you were by the furnace outside the House of Lotus, burning coals in an attempt to keep the mistress warm during the relentless cold weather. What an idiot, he thought to himself as he carefully approached you, not wanting to alert you to his presence. Here you were, busy keeping the lady warm while putting yourself in the cold. You were going to fall sick at this rate. He was amazed that you weren't already ill with the constant work and little rest you'd been getting lately.

He let out a small sigh of relief when he was close enough to see your head propped up on your fist, your elbow resting on your knee, your eyes closed. "You stubborn girl," he whispered to himself, feeling his heart ache as he observed the callouses on your free hand and the bags under your eyes. Your lips were dry and chapped, nearly turning blue from sitting out in the cold for god knows how long. He had to fight the urge to pull you close and carry you back to your quarters.

Instead, he sighed and crouched down beside you, lifting a hesitant hand to your face and gently moving a stray strand of hair. Noticing the slight shiver that ran through you, he quickly pulled off the outer layer of his hanbok and draped it around your shaking form. He froze when you seemed to wake up from the sudden warmth enveloping you.

"Hm— what? J-Jongho?" you muttered groggily before realising who was in front of you. Clearing your throat, you shot up from your seat and bowed. "Assistant Choi, wh-what were you…" you trailed off, noticing his outer layer on your shoulders.

Ignoring his disappointment when you corrected yourself and addressed him by his title instead of his name, he avoided your gaze, standing up as well. "Don't overthink it. I may be strict, but I'm not heartless. After all, who would care for the mistress if you fell sick? If you were responsible, you'd take good care of yourself too." He spoke in his usual icy tone, the mask of nonchalance returning as he turned to leave.

"Wait, your—" you started, looking down at the piece of clothing around your frame, but he cut you off.

"Keep it," he said firmly.

As he walked back to his room, he whispered to the wind, hoping it would somehow reach you, "You need it more than I do."

You stared after his retreating figure in confusion. He was so infuriating. If he wanted to be mean, why couldn't he be mean until the end? Why was he always making things more complicated than they should be? He constantly said one thing and did another. Why was he playing with your feelings like this?

You had been trying so hard to push all thoughts of him out of your mind, focusing on nothing but work, keeping yourself busy, and putting him at a distance just as he had wanted. You wanted to show him that you could be just as good at your job as he was—just as hardworking, dedicated, and capable—to prove him wrong about whatever prejudices he might have against you.

And just when you thought you could finally learn to hate him, he would go and do things like this, undoing all your efforts. You sighed, clutching the fabric around you, pulling it close as tears of frustration welled in your eyes. His scent was somehow… comforting.

"Stop doing this to me, Choi Jongho," you whispered to the night, feeling your resolve crumble once again.

The next day, the assistant resumed his work as usual, though his heart raced at the thought of running into you. Would you still be wearing the piece of clothing he had given you? Or had you already cleaned it and left it on his doorstep? The latter seemed more likely. He couldn't understand his internal dilemma: on the one hand, it felt oddly satisfying to imagine you walking around with his robe draped over you, as if you were his. On the other hand, he wanted to smack himself sober for having these mind-boggling thoughts. He was stuck between wanting to see you in it and knowing the impropriety of it all.

In his constant efforts to both avoid and keep an eye out for you, half the day had gone by, and he began to realise that you had been nowhere in sight the entire time. He told himself not to overthink it, but his mind raced with possibilities of where you could be, trying to regulate the escalating unease he felt.

While he could have simply asked around, he refused to inquire about your whereabouts, prioritising his pride over his concern. Yet, secretly, he was going insane with worry.

As he moved through his tasks, his frustration grew. Every room he entered, every corridor he walked down, he found himself hoping to catch a glimpse of you. The absence of your presence gnawed at him more than he cared to admit.

By the time the sun began to set, his anxiety had reached its peak. The thought of something happening to you while he stubbornly refused to show concern made him feel a pang of guilt. He clenched his fists, battling the urge to ask someone where you were.

Instead of carrying out his tasks, Jongho ended up spending nearly the entire day searching the estate for you. Every corner, every room, every possible hiding place—he checked them all, growing more distressed with each passing moment.

Where could she have possibly gone?

After what felt like an eternity, he finally found you alone in the Cold Palace. Your figure was hunched, and his heart clenched when he realised you were crying on one of the steps leading up to the vacant chambers. His heart picked up its speed again when he spotted his robe neatly folded beside you. So, you kept it. It was apparent you had come here for privacy, given that this place had been as good as abandoned ever since the mistress moved out.

A part of him told himself he was intruding on a personal moment and that he should leave you be now that he knew you were safe. But the bigger part of him couldn't take it anymore. He wanted— no, needed to know you were okay.

Annoyed yet concerned, Jongho moved to sit down beside you, his presence startling you slightly. "What's making you cry?" he asked, his tone a mix of irritation and genuine concern.

"Assistant Choi?" Blinking rapidly, you shook your head. "I-I'm fine..."

His stern gaze silenced you. "Just be honest with me… please."

You wiped your tears, taking a deep breath before responding. "Fine, if you insist. I'm just… I'm tired of constantly feeling as though I will never be enough for anyone and everyone. You think you're the only one who fought hard to get where you are?" you began, your voice trembling with emotion. "I've struggled, too. I've given everything to prove myself, to show that I'm just as capable, just as dedicated. You have no right to judge me or mistreat me."

The assistant's heart sank with each word. He had hoped, in some twisted way, that your tears were because of him, a testament to his impact on your life. But hearing your frustration, your own story of perseverance, shattered that notion.

When you finished, you stood up, ready to leave. But against his better judgement, he gently pulled you back, his mind racing for the right words. All his usual defences, his pride and stubbornness, seemed meaningless at this moment.

"I... I'm sorry," he muttered softly, his voice barely audible.

You looked at him, surprised by his uncharacteristic vulnerability. For a moment, the air between you was heavy with unspoken emotions. Jongho, struggling to find more words, simply held your gaze, hoping his apology was enough to convey his regret.

At those unexpected words, your tears flowed again as you allowed him to gently guide you back into the seat beside him. The chill of the air was gradually replaced by warmth as he once again draped his robe over your shoulders. He didn't say another word, but his actions spoke volumes, conveying his sincerity. This unexpected kindness only made you cry harder.

He moved closer until your shoulders touched, his presence a silent reassurance that you weren't alone. The two of you spent the rest of the evening sitting next to each other in silence. Though he could have left after offering his apology, he realised he didn't want to. There was an unspoken bond forming between you, a quiet understanding that both of you needed.

As the stars began to dot the sky, the silence between you became more comfortable, almost intimate. He felt a sense of peace he hadn't felt in a long time. He glanced at you, noticing the way your breathing had evened out, your tears finally subsiding.

"I'm sorry," he repeated softly, feeling the need to say it again.

You nodded, leaning slightly into his warmth, feeling a strange sense of relief. "Thank you," you whispered, grateful for his sincerity.

The two of you remained there, side by side, the Cold Palace no longer feeling so cold with the shared warmth of understanding and newfound camaraderie. The quiet intimacy of the moment made your hearts flutter, the connection between you deepening with each passing second.

The next day, Jongho eagerly looked forward to seeing you again. However, as he made his rounds, his anticipation turned to confusion and panic when he couldn't find you anywhere again, not even the Cold Palace. None of the servants had any answers for him, claiming not to know where you had gone.

Desperate for answers, he sought out the general, the head maid, and the mistress. Each of them gave him the same response: "She left, Jongho. She's gone home."

She... left? But why?

Panic gripped him. Hadn't everything been resolved after the previous night? He couldn't understand what was happening. He clearly recalled escorting you back to your quarters after a pleasant stop by the kitchen, where you treated yourselves to some leftover dishes from dinner. There had been laughter, shared stories, and a genuine connection. You had shyly handed his robe back to him at the end of the night, but he had insisted you keep it. Things were going well, weren't they? So, what went wrong?

His mind raced with questions. For once, he wasn't worried about the consequences Seonghwa mentioned he would face if you quit. All he could think about was why you had left and where you had gone. Was last night a goodbye? Why exactly were you crying? There had to be more to it, right?

He needed answers.

Holy crap, he needed you.

As he stood in the empty courtyard, grappling with his mounting frustration and confusion, the general approached, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Jongho...? You okay, buddy?"

The question snapped the assistant from his spiralling thoughts. He turned to face his employer, his face a mask of desperation and determination. The weight of the revelation that you had left, combined with the realisation of how deeply he had come to care for you, pushed him to the brink.

With a sudden surge of emotion, Jongho blurted out, "I need to know where she lives. I need her address—now!"

General Park's eyes widened in surprise. The head maid and the mistress exchanged concerned glances, their expressions reflecting the unexpected turn of events. His outburst revealed a side of him they had rarely seen—a side filled with raw vulnerability and an intensity that spoke of deep feelings.

"You... you were right, I can't be without her," he continued, his voice trembling with a mix of frustration and resolve. "I didn't realise how much she meant to me until she was gone. I thought I could handle it, but I can't. I need to bring her back."

Took you long enough, you prideful idiot.

Seonghwa's hand remained on his shoulder, a silent gesture of support. The assistant's declaration of his feelings, so raw and exposed, left him feeling both embarrassed and liberated. He knew now that his emotions were undeniable, and he was willing to face whatever consequences lay ahead to be with you again.

Eunsook stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. "Jongho, are you sure about this? It's a long journey, and things might not be as simple as you think. Miss Kwon, she was uh... she seemed very troubled."

Jongho nodded, his eyes determined. "Then that's all the more reason for me to be there for her. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I can't let her think that I don't care. I need to see her, to explain… to fix whatever I messed up."

The lady, witnessing his resolve, stepped in with a sympathetic smile. "Very well. We'll get you the address. But remember, you must be honest with her. Be clear about your feelings. No more saying things you don't mean."

He nodded firmly and took a deep breath, the weight of his decision settling in. He felt a rush of relief and fear, knowing that he was about to embark on a journey to find you and make things right. He had come to understand that his feelings for you were more than just fleeting emotions—they were real, and they mattered deeply.

As the information was given to him, the assistant clutched the piece of paper tightly, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and anxiety. He turned to Seonghwa, Eunsook, and the mistress, offering them a sincere thank you.

"I'll make sure she knows how much she means to me," Jongho said with resolve. "Thank you for your understanding."

With that, he set off, ready to face the world and do whatever it took to bring you back. The journey ahead was uncertain, but one thing was clear: he was no longer just an assistant doing his job—he was a man determined to fight for the love he had finally come to recognise.

Your heart felt heavy as you stepped out of the carriage, staring up at the estate you once called home, though it had never truly felt like one. No matter how many people filled its halls, it always remained a cold place, devoid of the warmth you craved. And yet, here you were again, returning after years away. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before entering the Kwon household for the first time in forever.

As you walked through the entrance, the servants bowed in recognition of your presence. "Welcome back, young miss," they murmured. You nodded emotionlessly, your eyes fixed on the altar straight ahead, which held the painting of a person whose affection you had fought hard to earn but never received.

Your brothers turned as your presence was announced. The second eldest furrowed his brows, a sneer forming on his lips. "Well, well, look who finally decides to show up? And here I was thinking Miss Ungrateful would never step foot in this house again. I'm afraid it's a little late to return, little sister. Mother's already dea—"

The eldest grabbed his arm, stopping him from finishing the sentence. "That's enough. Don't start anything. Show some respect. Mother would not want this."

You stood there, feeling a mix of sorrow and resentment. The coldness of the house and the harshness of your brother's words only served to remind you of why you had left in the first place. Yet, as you looked at the painting of the late Lady Kwon, you couldn't help but feel a pang of grief. Despite everything, a part of you had always hoped for reconciliation, for a family that would accept and love you.

Swallowing your emotions, you stepped forward, trying to find your voice. "I came to pay my respects," you said softly, your tone measured and controlled. "Whatever differences we had, she was still my mother."

The second eldest scoffed but remained silent, his gaze shifting away from you. You took another step closer to the altar, feeling the weight of the past and the unresolved emotions pressing down on you. It was difficult to be here, but you knew you had to face it, if not for your own sake, then for the memory of the woman whose portrait now watched over you.

As you stood there, the silence was heavy, filled with unspoken words and buried feelings. Your heart ached, but you remained resolute, determined to find closure in this place that had once been so unforgiving.

You settled on your knees before the altar, the flickering candlelight casting gentle shadows across your face. After lighting your own incense stick, you carefully placed it in the holder before your mother's resting place. Lowering your head, you clasped your hands together, the scent of the burning incense mingling with the bittersweet memories that flooded your mind.

The past few days had been a tumultuous sea of emotions. Upon receiving word of your mother's passing, you had been overwhelmed, retreating to the solitude of the Cold Palace to grapple with your feelings. The cold and empty chambers mirrored your own inner turmoil as you wrestled with the decision of whether or not to return to the place that had caused you so much pain.

As you knelt there, the weight of the moment pressing down on you, thoughts of a certain general's assistant suddenly entered your mind. The memory of his comforting presence the night before, his robe draped around your shoulders, and the sincerity in his voice as he apologised, filled your heart with a warmth that contrasted sharply with the coldness of your surroundings.

I wish you were here, Choi Jongho...

His steady presence, his silent strength—it would have been a balm to your aching soul. You longed for his reassuring touch, his quiet support. The thought of him brought a small measure of comfort amidst the sorrow.

Blinking back tears, you whispered a silent prayer, seeking peace and closure. You hoped that, somehow, your mother could hear you and understand the complex emotions you harboured. Despite the years of distance and the unresolved pain, you wished for forgiveness and reconciliation, even if it was now too late.

You took a deep breath, lifting your head to gaze at the portrait before you. "Mother," you whispered, your voice trembling, "I hope you find peace. I hope you know that despite everything, I loved you. And I hope… I hope you can forgive me."

The room was silent, the air thick with the scent of incense and the weight of unspoken words. You remained kneeling, feeling the presence of your elder brothers behind you, the tension still palpable. But in that moment, you felt a small sense of release, as if a part of the burden you had carried for so long had been lifted.

As you rose to your feet and turned, your breath hitched at the sight of your father standing there, your younger brothers by his side. His presence was imposing, yet there was something different in his eyes—a softness you hadn't seen before.

"You're really here… I didn't believe them when they told me you came," he said, his voice surprisingly gentle.

You gulped and bowed deeply. "Yes, I've come, Father."

To your surprise, he broke into a smile, a genuine expression of warmth that took you aback. "Come, my dear, let us have some tea and catch up."

Your heart warmed at the semblance of pleasure on his face. Was he glad you returned? Could he have… regretted not treating you better after you left? The questions swirled in your mind, but the hint of hope blossomed in your chest.

The eldest gave you an encouraging nod. You took a deep breath and followed your father to the living hall, your footsteps echoing softly in the spacious corridors of the house where you spent your childhood.

The living hall was just as you remembered—lavishly decorated yet exuding a cold elegance. But today, the atmosphere felt different, almost welcoming. The elderly man gestured for you to sit, and soon a servant brought in a tray with a steaming teapot and delicate porcelain cups.

As the tea was poured, your father looked at you with a mixture of pride and regret. "I've been thinking, and I believe it's time for you to move back home," he said, his voice steady but with an undertone that made your blood run cold. "You don't have to work so hard anymore. I heard you're out there working as some servant to General Park. You're a lady from House Kwon; you can do so much better. I have a list of marriage candidates that could guarantee you a lavish life, my daughter."

In that moment, the warmth you had felt earlier was sucked out of your being. You should have known better than to believe he genuinely wanted you back for the sake of family. You saw through his motives right away. He only saw a use for you now—to marry and establish another powerful connection for his family. That was all you were ever good for in his eyes.

Your heart sank, and the chill of disappointment wrapped around you. "I see," you said, your voice barely above a whisper. The tea, which moments ago had brought comfort, now tasted like ash in your mouth. "So that's why you want me back."

He frowned, clearly not expecting your reaction. "You misunderstand, my daughter. I only want what's best for you."

You stood, feeling a surge of defiance. "No, you want what's best for you and this house. But I am not a tool for your ambitions."

"That's right because she is so much more than that." You gasped, whipping around to find Jongho standing there, a confident grin on his face. "And Lord Kwon, this young lady is far more than just a mere servant for General Park. In case your informant wasn't thorough enough, she is a renowned obstetrician recommended by noblewomen all around Joseon. She is now a valued and cherished member of the Park household. So, it would be great if you could show her the respect she deserves."

Your father narrowed his eyes at the uninvited guest, standing up. "And who the hell are you? Her little secret admirer?"

Before you could turn to defend the assistant, Jongho stepped forward, his voice steady and unyielding. "If you must know, I'm Choi Jongho, General Park's most trusted aide and only assistant. And yes, I am also Miss Kwon's secret admirer, but I don't need your permission to court her. I've come to ask for hers, not yours."

Your jaw dropped as you stared at him with wide eyes, your heart pounding in your chest. Was this a confession?

With a final, stern glare, he took a step forward, placing his arm protectively around you, just as he had when you went to the market. "Now, if we're done here, Lord Kwon, I will be escorting the lady back to where she truly belongs, far away from here."

You let him lead you away, the shock slowly giving way to a warm, comforting certainty. For the first time in a long while, you felt valued, seen, and cared for. As you walked away from the place that never truly felt like home, you glanced up at Jongho, grateful for his unexpected presence and the boldness of his words.

"So, you're my secret admirer, huh?" you teased, biting your lip as you watched the assistant's face flush with a deep, embarrassed red. He blinked rapidly, trying to regain his composure, and straightened in his seat across from you in the carriage.

"Yes, well… I suppose I am," the usually composed assistant stammered, his hands fidgeting nervously. "And I need to apologise for all the times I was mean to you."

You tilted your head, intrigued. "Oh? And why were you so mean to me, Assistant Choi?"

Jongho sighed deeply, his gaze falling to his lap. "I didn't mean any of it. I was bitter because I thought it was unfair that you seemed to have it easy while I had to work so hard. But now… now I see how hard you work and how much you deserve every bit of recognition you get. And your family, if you can even call them that— I... I was wrong about everything, and I'm truly sorry."

His eyes met yours, brimming with genuine regret and admiration. "Most importantly, I've come to realise how much I admire you and how much I enjoy being around you. It's been hard, and I have no one to blame but myself for pretending I didn't want to hold you close, feeling foolish for pushing you away when all I wanted was to be by your side."

You felt a warmth spread through you at his heartfelt words. "And that was why, when I found out you were gone, I had to get you back. I can't lose you without having you know how I feel. I promise that this time, you'll never have another reason to return to the Kwon estate. You'll always have a home here with us… with me."

You blinked, slightly confused. "As sweet as that is… you do know I was planning to return to the general's estate the next day, right?"

He went speechless, his eyes widening in surprise. "Y-you were…?"

You nodded. "Yeah, I was just going to attend the funeral. Besides, who would care for the mistress if I was gone? I promised I'd help her through it, and I intend to. Didn't Eunsook or the general tell you that?"

Jongho shook his head, a mix of relief and frustration washing over him. He silently cursed Seonghwa, his wife, and Eunsook for making him look like a fool.

You sighed, a light laugh escaping your lips. "And here I was, worried that the lady's water might have broken because of how suddenly you appeared to take me back."

He softened, a sheepish grin slowly replacing his earlier tension. "Well, I guess that makes me look a bit like an idiot. But I'm glad I could finally be honest with you and with myself. I promise I'll be good to you and make up for all my past mistakes… if you'll let me."

You reached out hesitantly for his hand, then nervously retreated, feeling unsure. But he was quick to hold onto your hand firmly, cradling it against his chest, letting you feel his heart racing for you. Heart fluttering in your chest, you smiled warmly. "Jongho, I never wanted anything more than for you to be honest with me. I forgive you. Let's... let us try again."

His eyes lit up with relief and joy, his grip on your hand tightening with earnestness. "Thank you," he whispered, leaning in slightly. "I won't let you down."

As the carriage continued its journey, the two of you settled into a comfortable silence, a new bond beginning to weave itself between you. For the first time, you felt a deep sense of peace, knowing that the future held promise and that you had someone who truly cared by your side.

Arriving back at the general's estate, Seonghwa greeted you both with a teasing smile and a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. "Ah, Miss Kwon, you're back a day early!"

Jongho shot the older man a flat, unamused look but couldn't hide the blush and adoration in his eyes as he watched you. You suppressed a laugh, noting the general's knowing grin.

"Yes, sir," you replied with a grateful smile at Jongho. "Assistant Choi was kind enough to bring me back early. Now I should probably get to work—I'm sure the mistress could use my assistance."

Giving his hand a quick, reassuring squeeze, you turned to head towards the House of Lotus. The assistant stood there, rooted to the spot, his gaze following you with a lovesick grin, already missing you.

I can't believe she's really mine...

Observing the scene with amusement, Seonghwa clapped him on the shoulder. "I told you I'd help you find a wife. Perfect, isn't she? Just wait until I tell Miss Kwon all about your speech on how you'd be a terrible husband."

The younger man cleared his throat, irritation on his face. "Sir, need I remind you that you were once just as hopeless as I am?"

Seonghwa fell silent, his smile fading as he remembered his own awkward past.

"Look at you now, all grown up," the general teased. "Now get back to work if you're so free to stand around. It's not a honeymoon until you ask for her hand in marriage, and I expect that to happen soon!"

Jongho's face turned a deep shade of red. He stammered, "Y-yes, sir. I need to, um… get something done."

In a flurry of flustered haste, he dashed off, muttering about urgent tasks. Seonghwa chuckled, watching his dedicated assistant with a sense of satisfaction. It was heartening to see that even the stubborn Jongho had finally found love. General Park couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment, knowing that all his friends had found their own happiness. His thoughts then drifted to a certain fourth prince, wondering how he was faring these days.

Aaand we're finally done with baby bear's love story! Hope it was decent! Are y'all ready for Prince Yeo's spinoff? One last story to go before wrapping up this universe! I am, of course, open to doing more TWTHH bonus content but we'll see hehe~

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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@green-agent @stayinhellevator @vampzity @tinyteezer @evidive |

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@vic0921 @marievllr-abg @sunnyhokyu @seungmin-in-thebuilding @heyitsmetonid |

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@chickenscoups

#edenesth #the way to this heart #try again #twthh spinoff #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #choi jongho #ateez jongho #historical au #joseon era #jongho x reader #jongho x you #ateez fic

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fullfriendnerdclutch · 9 months ago

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Richard actually preferred to spent his Spring Break lounging around his quaint and peaceful university town. But, since his Uncle drove all the way down to pick him up unannounced, simply because Richard is in the same state now, not like he could just shush that man away so he lazily packed his bag and hit the road with the 43 years old hulk of a DILF

They didn't talk much throughout the long trip into the farmland as Richard pretended to fall asleep before eventually really falling asleep on the way there. But he's dead wrong to assume that his Uncle is unaware of his avoidance. In fact, that very attitude is the sole reason why his Uncle came all the way down to pick him up. It's time to mold Richard into the perfect Dawson boys, and Spring Break provides the best timeline in order for Richard to hit his final alteration right during summer

When the pair arrived at the sprawling farm, Richard realized how stinking rich his family must be with all these acres of land under their possession. It's been more than a decade since he last visited the family farm, but clearly this visit will leave him with the memory about the family farm much more clearly. His uncle let him rest for the remainder of the day, he even fell asleep right after his quick dinner and cleaning himself. But Richard didn't expect that he needs to do some hard labour the following morning!

"Your cousin Adam is spending some time with his sickly wife while Steve took off for the entirety of this Spring Break to spend time with his kids. So I need your help, boy,"

"Wait, Adam is married?"

"Yes, a year ago, don't you remem--- oh yeah, you were on your gap year trip,"

The tone his uncle used irked Richard a bit, gap year trip, but he let it go. His mind is focused on the fact that Adam is the same age as him, and he's married? At 20? 19 if he considered the fact it happened a year ago.....what a totally different life the two of them have. His uncle snapped Richard's out of his mind as he told the pale, gangly-looking Richard to put on the boots before helping him around the farm and the ranch. Richard at first doubted that he could fit into the boots, but somehow it fits him just right. So, off he goes with his uncle

Day after day, the routine remained the same. He will wake up at around 5 or 6 AM, have his loaded breakfast and head out with his uncle. He surprisingly found himself enjoying the routine, he even started to address his Uncle with "Sir" and cooked the breakfast for the two. He simply didn't notice the change in his reflection on how his skin tanned on its own, how his form straightened rather than hunched per usual, how all his clothings somehow altered to solely consist of black t-shirt, jeans and some plaid shirt and he just didn't bother to ask his uncle for the whereabouts of his other clothing. He also failed to notice how his uncle has been subliminally planting in his subconsciousness that he enjoyed working in the farm, that he preferred to be called Dick since Richard sounded too posh for him, that Dick has always been interested with farming and the idea to continue the family's business, that Dick wanted to recruit some good trusted friends of his to join the family's business and how he needs to pivot to study about agriculture or farming in uni.....well, scratch that, he will probably drop out later in the summer and learn better about farming or agriculture by working with his Uncle.

Imagine the surprise his roommates got when Richard went back from his Spring Break 30 lbs heavier and looking like a Southern farm stud with his outfit and the way he got this drawl out of nowhere. And he apparently have a souvenir too for them

"Got these from my Uncle, now, try to put these babies on and tell me how it feels,"

---

Fast forward to summer, not only Dick really followed through with his drop out plan, he brings along his now much-more fitting roommate to join him in the farm

Hey there, a bit rushed with this execution but hope it's still an enjoyable read

#personality change #male muscle growth #male transformation

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aeralux · 4 months ago

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"Hard To Resist" - Cregan Stark

Summary: Betrothed to the one and only Cregan Stark. Your first meeting with him luckily goes better than expected.

Content warning: smut, oral (f! receiving)

-- aera xx

As a proper Lady of the North, your fate had long been determined before you learned to walk. Your father and brothers had found the perfect match for you, another northerner. “A proper man,” as they described him. Big, burly, and rough. Those were the only descriptive words you knew of him, not nearly enough to draw a picture of your betrothed.

Alas, the day to meet your future Lord husband has arrived. You were doing everything in your power to calm your nerves. Like playing with your wolves, Wane and Cusp, even resorting to having a strong drink. Nothing seemed to work. For a moment, you were contemplating escape and riding off into the distance with your wolves.

Your daydream was interrupted by your eldest brother knocking on your door. The loud sound startled you.

“Yes?" You asked, fearing that your soon-to-be husband had arrived. “Open up, dearest,” your brother answered with his usual affectionate nickname for you. Being almost 20 years your elder, he had become a second father figure to you than a brother.

"Come in, Arthur,” you answered, sadness evident in your voice. "My dearest sister, this should be a joyful day. Not a sad one," he tried cheering you up but to no avail.

How was one supposed to be happy when being married off to a stranger? "Easy for you to say. You got to choose who you married. And you knew your wife beforehand," you complained to your brother, getting pissed off. "I refuse to be treated as a broodmare and be sent off to some hairy northerner," already on the verge of tears, fuming. "My dear sister, it is your responsibility to strengthen the bond between our families, and you are fully aware of this."

You scowl, looking down at your feet. "I am well aware of my responsibilities and duties. It seems like that is all I was born for. To marry some Lord that I have never met, all for the greater good." Your tantrum was cut off by the sound of marching hooves.

The Starks have arrived. You looked at your brother with big eyes, feeling vulnerable and scared. "It will be alright, sister. You are beautiful, bright and cunning. He will take good care of you," he caressed your arms, trying to soothe your nerves. "Now let us go. Father and Albert are probably outside already, greeting our guests. And your soon-to-be husband," Arthur smirked at you, but his words only made you feel more uneasy.

You began walking downstairs, Arthur protectively placing a hand around your shoulders. As you reached the front door, you took a deep breath. "I'm ready," you said as you looked at your older brother. "Excellent!" he said before the guards pushed the massive entrance doors to reveal your eventual Lord husband.

Your breath caught in your throat upon seeing him. He was indeed big, burly, and rough but also wildly handsome. Cregan Stark looked every part of the "King of the North" title. Tall, muscular, and rugged. A true warrior. He studied you as he took in his first sight of you. Cregan had a stern look on his face, and as you met his grey eyes, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You walked over to him and curtsied. "Hello, Lord Stark. I am Lady (y/n). My family and I welcome you to our lands."

Cregan nodded his head respectfully. “Thank you, my lady.” He then stepped forward and took your hand in a firm, but not uncomfortably tight, grip. He raised your knuckles to his lips and planted a light kiss on them. “You look lovely,” he said before looking up to meet your gaze. You couldn’t help but blush, hearing soft words from such a brute man. Cregan smirked faintly, as he observed your cheeks tint with a light shade of pink. He found it amusing, how he could make you blush with a simple statement like that.

Cregan greeted your parents and brothers, giving each a strong handshake. “Arthur good to see you again,” Lord Stark said to your brother, giving him a tight smile that your brother returned.

“If the Lords find it fit, I would like to speak to my Lady in private,” boomed Cregan’s deep voice, gesturing to your father and two older brothers. Your father and brothers looked at each other before nodding in agreement. You didn’t say anything in return and led him to your castle's library. The library was modest, with big windows yet little light due to your House being far up in the North. At least you would feel at home in Winterfell, you thought.

“Here,” you walked into the library, waiting for him to follow suit. Cregan followed you as you walked to the library. He couldn't deny that his eyes were glued to your backside as you walked ahead, his gaze slowly running over the curves of your hips. Once you reached the library, you gestured for him to step inside, and he closed the doors behind him. You were alone now. Just the two of you, in the quiet, empty, library. Cregan glanced around the large room for a moment, before his grey eyes settled on you once again. He then smirked faintly and leaned back against one of the bookshelves, crossing his arms over his muscular chest as he regarded you. “Now I believe we should get to know one another, don’t you think?” He said, his voice coming out in a low tone.

“Oh? Yes, yes, of course,” you were a bit surprised by his boldness, but it made you smile nonetheless. Cregan chuckled, finding your slight smile rather adorable. He pushed away from the bookshelf and began to slowly close the distance between the two of you.

“Now, I want you to be entirely truthful with me, my lady.” He said as he stopped just in front of you. He was much taller, towering over you. “Tell me, what do you think of me, at this very moment?” Cregan’s gaze wandered over your face, studying every feature. The way your hair fell, the contour of your nose, the shape of your lips, the length of your eyelashes. He couldn’t help but think you looked absolutely beautiful. The boldness of his question took you back. “Well… seeing as I do not know much about your personality. At this very moment, I would say that you are handsome. My brother was right when he said that you are the very picture of a Northern man. And I must say that I am rather pleased with whom my brother decided to betroth me to,” you look down blushing, not wanting to see his reaction to the last part.

A smirk tugged on the corners of Cregan’s lips as your cheeks flushed pink once again, and you kept looking down. He found it amusing how he was able to make you blush so easily, and he took a step even closer, barely leaving any space between the two of you.

“Quite pleased, you say?” He repeated, his voice coming out in a low, teasing tone. “Now tell me, do you say that simply to flatter me, or are you being entirely truthful, my lady?”

“I do not care for lying my Lord, I will always speak the truth,” you smiled at him, finally daring to look him in the eyes.

Cregan chuckled lowly, enjoying the sound of your voice saying the words “my Lord”. “I like that about you. I can’t stand liars.”

He then raised a hand and gently lifted your chin with his index finger, forcing you to look up and meet his eyes once more. His thumb gently stroked over your lower lip. “And you certainly wouldn’t lie about thinking that I’m handsome, now would you?”

Your breath got caught in your throat when he gently touched your lip. Goosebumps rise on your skin. “No, of course not,” you muttered quietly. Cregan chuckled. “I know you wouldn’t, my lady.” He leaned in slightly, the distance between the two of you even smaller now. His face was only mere inches from yours now. He kept your chin raised with his thumb, slowly running the digit over the smooth skin. “You’re honest. I like that.” Another low chuckle came from him, as he slowly leaned even closer, his breath now warm and hot against your skin.

You tried to keep your composure but having him so close was making you slowly lose your self-control. “Arthur didn’t mention anything about me?” You asked upon hearing his words. Didn’t your brother mention what kind of a woman you were?

Cregan shook his head. “He didn’t.” He ran his fingers through strands of your hair before continuing. “He simply told me you were a good fit for a Lord. That you would be a proper Lady of Winterfell. That you could hold your own in the North... and make a good mother one day.”

A smirk tugged on his lips once again as he continued to twist your hair around his fingers. “What he failed to mention, however, is how gorgeous you truly are.”

I chuckled. “Well, I guess it would be unforeseen of my brother to call his own younger sister gorgeous.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Cregan laughed faintly, enjoying the sound of your laugh.

He stepped even closer, and gently pushed you backwards to press you up against one of the bookshelves. He gently ran his hands down the sides of your arms, running his calloused fingertips over your smooth skin. “He also neglected to mention how I would have to keep you away from all other men in the North…”

“You think I can’t hold my own?” You asked in a teasing tone, tilting your head.

Cregan chuckled, the low sound making your stomach flip. He found your attitude entertaining, the little smirk on your lips, the way you tilted your head. He took a moment to study your face with his gaze; the long, delicate eyelashes that framed your eyes, the way your lips curved into that little smirk. “Oh, I’m sure you can.” He said, his smirk widening. “But I don’t want other men to even think about how utterly ravishing you are.”

“I don’t see how that would matter, as you would be the only one doing the ravishing, no?” You smirked, joking ofcourse. But Cregan didn’t seem to take it as lightly.

His smirk grew wider at your reply. He liked this slightly bratty, sassy side of yours. It was a nice change, as most women he interacted with tended to swoon in his presence. He took another step forward, completely closing the space between the two of you and trapping you between his body and the bookshelf. He leaned in, his face barely a centimeter away from yours as he whispered in a low, silky tone. “Careful with those words, my lady. They might tempt me to do more.”

“And as much as I would love nothing more. That will be saved for later.” You said in a sultry tone, control slipping from your grasp. Resting a hand softly on his strong and sturdy chest.

Cregan’s smirk turned into a small, amused smile at your reply. He knew you were right; it would hardly be proper to do anything too inappropriate in this library. He then looked down at your hand, resting on his chest as you spoke. He gently picked it up and interlaced it with his, bringing it up to his mouth to plant a light kiss on your knuckles. “I suppose you’re right…” he said, his lips gently brushing over your skin, “As much as I would very much love to.”

You blushed and yet again looked down. His words make your stomach flip, pleasure shooting right to your core.

“Although I did have a question for you, my Lord. Will my two wolves be able to make permanent residence in your castle? I have grown far too attached.”

A small, amused smile tugged on Cregan’s lips at your question. He was a tad surprised that you’d even ask him that; he’d assumed you would’ve brought them with you anyway.

“Of course, you can bring them. I expected you would bring them along. After all, how is Lady of Winterfell supposed to get along without her dire-wolves?” He said with a slight chuckle.

All you could do in response was smile shyly. His demeanor so different when with you.

Cregan smirked faintly, finding your shy smile endearing. He also found it a bit peculiar, that a northern woman would be shy. In his experience, northern girls usually were quite forward, even brash, whereas it seemed he was making you nervous. He kept his hand firmly grasping yours, gently squeezing it as he spoke, his eyes locking with yours. “I have a question for you, too, my lady.” He took a step forward, closing the already small space between the two of you even further. He now had you completely pressed up against the bookshelf as he spoke in a low, deep tone. “You said you were ‘quite pleased’ with me, after taking me in… but I want to know. Are you truly content, with the idea of marrying me?”

You found his question odd, considering men usually didn’t care much for a woman’s opinion on the betrothal. But you answered nonetheless.

“Yes. I am. Why would I not? I trust who my brother and father picked for me.”

Cregan smirked faintly as you answered, his lips still over your knuckles. He liked the way your soft skin felt underneath them, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss more of you.

He looked back up at your face, and gently brought his free hand up to your chin, lifting it slightly so you were looking directly into his eyes.

“Just ‘yes’? No other answer?” He teased with a slight smile, his thumb gently caressing your jawline.

His touch sent shivers down your spine, cursing yourself for feeling so weak from a man’s simple touch.

“What would you like me to say then?” You asked breathlessly, mind starting to go blank.

Cregan chuckled lowly as he gently tugged you even closer. You were now pressed against him, his broad, muscular chest completely enclosing you. “Perhaps I’d like you to give me a different response. Maybe tell me…”

He began to slowly and carefully lower his lips to your jawline, planting gentle kisses along it before moving to your ear and whispering.

“How much you want me…”

Hearing his provocative words, you threw all caution out the window. “What if I just… showed you,” you replied as you gently placed your hand from his chest onto his cheek, pulling him closer. Planting a soft kiss on his lips.

Cregan’s eyes darkened as you planted a delicate kiss on his lips. He couldn’t help the feeling of desire that began to ignite within him. He was taken by surprise at your bold move. He would have assumed you were shy, but here you were, taking the initiative. Cregan quickly got over the momentary shock and decided to match your boldness. He deepened the kiss, tilting his head to the side to get a better angle. He then wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you flush against his large form, completely pressing you against the bookshelf.

You let out a quiet mewl, feeling his strong hands around you. His rough touches turning you on. He chuckled at the sound of your mewl and quickly decided he wanted to hear more of them. His hands slowly traveled down over your hips and to your thighs, which he grabbed a hold of firmly and lifted you, easily manhandling you to pin you against the bookshelf. He kept his body pressed flush against yours and continued to hungrily kiss you, his hands still holding your thighs.

You let out a breathy gasp, your hands immediately going to rest on his shoulders as he lifted you.

Cregan smirked faintly at the sound of your gasp, the sound making his lust for you grow, he let his hands slowly slide up your thighs to your ass, grabbing a firm hold of it.

You continued to make quiet sounds of pleasure, the desire to have him only growing in you.

Cregan found himself growing more and more addicted to the small noises you continued to make. He found them adorable, and it only encouraged him to kiss you even more passionately. He pushed his body even closer to yours, as close as he possibly could, and began to kiss down your neck and collarbone.

Your mouth fell open as he did that and you couldn’t help but moan his name.

“Cregan,” you whimpered.

Hearing you moan his name for the first time almost made him grow feral. He loved the way it sounded, the way it rolled off your tongue. He continued to slowly drag his lips down your neck, nibbling on the sensitive skin.

“Again.” He breathed out against your skin, his grip on your thighs and ass tightening. “Say my name again.”

You started to feel dizzy the way he was sucking purple marks onto your neck. Letting out a gasp.

“Cregan…please” You whined and begged him, not even knowing for what. Your mind was already foggy with arousal.

Cregan smirked faintly at the way you moaned his name, the way you begged him. He knew exactly what you were craving, even if you did not, and placed another kiss on your neck, letting his tongue slowly drag against your skin before pulling back slightly to look into your eyes.

"Please, what, my Lady?" He asked in a low, teasing tone, his hands digging into your flesh.

Your breath stuttered as you felt him drag his tongue across your neck, hips involuntarily bucking against his.

Cregan let out a low growl as he felt your hips buck against him. He was barely able to remain in control of himself, resisting the urge to completely rip your clothes off and take you right there in the library.

He placed a final kiss on your neck before speaking, his words coming out in a low, rumbling growl. “You are going to be the death of me, aren’t you, little wolf?”

You whined pathetically, hoping that no one could hear the inappropriate scene that was going on.

He took ahold of your hips and started moving them against his. You pulled him into a rough and passionate kiss, giving his hair an experimental tug. To your surprise, Cregan seemed to enjoy it, letting out a low growl.

He quickly moved you to a nearby sofa, laying you down. He was almost desperate in his moves, needing to take you as soon as possible.

He opened his eyes again, looking down at you with darkened eyes. He was no longer trying to hold back, no longer trying to rein in his desire for you. He needed you, and he was going to have you, right there in the library if that’s what it took.

“I need you, little wolf.”

"Is it that hard to resist me?" You giggled. Your teasing only egging him on.

Cregan huffed at your words, his eyes narrowing slightly. He could tell you were enjoying taunting him. He could see the smirk on your face.

“It’s very difficult.” He admitted, his tone was low and strained as if it was taking all his willpower not to just fuck you until you could no longer walk.

“I don’t like to be patient.” He added with a slight growl, his hands moving up your dress skirts, bunching them around your waist before sitting down on his knees in front of you. Letting his hands caress your now exposed thighs.

You covered your mouth to stop the whines from spilling out your lips. His light touches kept traveling upwards, getting closer and closer to your cunt. You couldn't help but shiver in arousal and anticipation, needing his mouth on your heat already.

Cregan started placing light kisses near your chemise, looking up at you for permission. When you nodded your head, Cregan pulled them down forcefully.

"Soaked already, my Lady?" He questioned and smirked, cockiness in his voice.

You didn't even get a chance to respond before you felt his mouth on folds. Licking at your wetness like a man starved. All he got in response from you were loud whines. He began to suck on your clit, doing everything in his power to draw more moans from you. Pressing kisses on your slit and opening, flicking his tongue over your pussy over and over again, swirling his tongue over your sensitive bud, your thighs began shaking.

"Ohh, Gods, Cregan!" You moaned like a whore, his tongue bringing you closer to your release.

At that, Cregan began to move his tongue quicker, adding two fingers into your pussy, working you open.

"Ahh!" You couldn't help but moan loudly at that, his big fingers stretching you open deliciously. You began to move your hips against his fingers and face, trying to get your dripping cunt even closer to him.

"Mm, just like that, ride my fingers," Cregan mumbled against your cunt, the vibrations almost sending you over the edge.

He curled his fingers expertly against your soft spot, starting to go faster.

All he wanted right now was your sweet release to coat his lips. After all, there is no nectar sweeter than your wife's cunt. At least that's what Cregan thought.

When you arched your back and let out a loud moan, he knew he hit the right spot.

"Faster! Please let me cum!"

Cregan was surprised by your bold words but couldn't deny that they turned him on even more. Knowing that you were desperate for him.

Cregan began pumping his fingers into you even faster, his erection already painfully pressing into his breeches. He will deal will that later, right now he was focusing on getting his Lady to come all over his face.

With a pointed tongue, he began to quickly flick your clit. Your legs trembling around his face, he couldn't help but smirk. It felt like he was splitting you open with his fingers, the pain of the stretch only adding to your pleasure, whines, and moans spilling from your mouth.

"Ohh, I'm... I'm so close, make me cum, please" You begged your soon-to-be husband, clamping your thighs around him.

He hummed against your cunt, and his movements became sloppy, his own arousal making him feel dizzy.

As he felt your cunt begin to pulse around his fingers, he knew you were close. Cregan gave a final few sucks to your pearl, and that is what threw you off the edge.

You came with a loud moan, your legs shaking and hips bucking against his face.

Cregan kept thrusting his fingers in you, working you through your release. When he pulled away from your cunt you saw how his face glistened with your juices and his spit. The sight so erotic and lewd.

You still felt the aftershocks of your orgasm, your body shivering.

"Your cunt tastes divine, my Lady. I can't wait to enjoy this every single night." Cregan said with a smirk, placing wet kisses on your thigh to calm you down.

You gave him a lazy smile and leaned down to kiss him, tasting your release on his tongue.

"Hey! You might want to save some for the wedding night!" Came your brother's voice from the other side of the door.

Author's note: This was quite literally my first smut so if it feels rushed, weird etc., it is probably because of that. Although I did enjoy writing it. Any feedback would be appreciated. THANK YOUU MWAHH!!!

#house of the dragon #house targaryen #house stark #cregan stark smut #cregan stark #hotd imagine #cregan x you #cregan fanfiction #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon smut #hotd smut #house of the dragon x you #hotd x reader #cregan smut #cregan x y/n #cregan x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd cregan

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miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 11 months ago

Text

the cool mom's countdown

pairing: pre-re2!leon s kennedy/milf!reader

content: age gap, older woman/younger man, edging, sub!leon, excessive use of the word 'ma'am' (by leon)

word count: 2.6k

summary: your son's friend, leon, comes over for nye and you play a 'game' (edging) during the countdown to midnight

a/n: should've posted this on new years, but i didn't really intend on posting it at all

You’re the neighborhood ‘cool mom’ - moms hate you, their daughters envy you, dads try not to stare for too long, and their sons, they love you. Your son’s friends have been flirting with you since they were middle schoolers, and their actions only intensified once they learned the word ‘milf’. They'd probably watched every video on pornhub with the word in the title based on the way they stared at you. Almost creaming their jeans, drooling like babies, it was pitiful.

You became an empty nester young, young enough that you still had the body of a Victoria's Secret model. When your son came home after his first semester of college for winter break, his high school buddies came around almost daily. You were the cool mom, so you let them drink and smoke a little bit, you’d rather have it under your roof where you could control it.

Your favorite young man came over on New Year’s Eve for a little get together your son planned. You tried to stay out of the boys’ way for the majority of the night, only coming down from your room to offer snacks and drinks. Later in the night, your son asked if they could go out for a bit – another kid from school was having a party. You said, yes, of course, and off they went. You assumed you were alone, so naturally, you walked downstairs in your nightgown, not expecting to see a handsome young man in your living room.

“Leon?” you said.

“Sorry, ma’am, I-I wasn’t sure if I should leave or not, and I can just - I’ll get going now,” he said.

“You’re welcome to stay, honey, you know that.” You flashed him a smile.

“I don’t want to- to keep you up.”

“It’s only 10:30, Leon. How old do you think I am?” you said, playing coy.

He blushed, “I-I didn’t mean that I think you’re old, um, you’re not, or - or you’re very pretty, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Honey, I was just playing with you. No need to get nervous around me.” You placed your hand on his shoulder, and surprise washed over his face, but his muscles relaxed.

“Why didn’t you want to go with the other boys?”

“They, uh, well I was worried that they might be drinking alcohol or smoking,” he said, reluctant to meet your eyes.

“I forgot - you’re in the police academy now, huh?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“All grown up now, but you’re still a good boy.”

His ears flushed pink and he began to fidget in his seat, hearing the words good boy.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“How ‘bout I turn on the New Year’s broadcast?”

“That sounds good.”

You sat down beside Leon, grabbing a blanket from the other side of the couch to cover yourself a bit, not wanting to show too much skin yet, especially when he looked so nervous already.

“Do you want anything to drink or eat, hun?”

“No thank you, ma’am.”

You watched out of the corner of your eye as Leon tried to be subtle when he snuck glances at you. You noted them, but decided not to comment, knowing he’d die from embarrassment if he knew you’d caught him.

Eventually, you decided to strike up a conversation, getting tired of watching TV.

“So, how are things going with you?” you asked.

“Pretty good. The academy is good. I like it.”

“That’s nice. Got any friends there? A girlfriend?” You made sure he heard the last question.

“I’ve made a few friends, but I’m still working on fitting in with the guys… and no girlfriend.”

“No one’s snatched you up yet? Such a handsome young man.”

“Th-thank you, ma’am.”

“Always my pleasure, Leon.”

You pretended not to notice the way Leon shifted in his seat. You’d always paid attention to the way his jeans fit - tight enough to show off his pert ass, but still loose enough that there wasn’t an ever-present bulge on display. The fact that you could see a tent in his pants forming meant he was unmistakably aroused. Poor baby, you thought, too much friction to get it to go down, but not enough to get off.

“Have you ever had a New Year’s kiss?” Leon asked all of a sudden.

“Yes, I have. Why do you ask?” You tried to downplay your interest.

“They were just talking about something related to kissing at midnight… I’ve already forgotten what exactly it was…” He gestured to the C-list celebrities on TV who were droning on and on about the ball that was about to drop in Times Square.

“Sorry, I wasn’t paying much attention. Got lost in my thoughts back there,” you said.

“S’okay. It wasn’t that interesting.”

“It’s the same old thing every year, isn’t it? Well, I guess when I was your age it was more fun. Going to parties and such, you know how it is. You are more well-behaved than I was at your age. Unfortunately, it means that you’ve ended up at a boring old lady’s house on New Years.”

You laughed off the last part, but you were only half-joking. You did feel like a boring old lady sometimes.

“You’re not boring,” he said, vehement in his assertion, “or old.”

So as not to allow yourself to get flustered, you changed the subject, “I didn’t get a chance to ask you, have you ever had a New Year’s kiss?”

You assumed his answer would be 'yes'.

“No,” he started, thinking hard about the question, “well, maybe when I was a lot younger, but I don’t think it counts when you’re both in elementary school. I’d like to think that someday it’ll happen again.”

You turned to him, eyes alight with mischief. Of course this was morally dubious, but it wasn’t illegal. You could surely be doing worse, right? At least you were keeping him from drugs and alcohol.

When you looked into Leon’s eyes, they were glossy, drunk on lust.

“Do you want-” you began, but were cut off by Leon’s lips against yours.

He was quick, but not forceful. His lips were pillowy soft, so easy to mold yours to them.

“Sorry,” he pulled back, “I got carried away.”

He looked away, rubbing the back of his neck with his hand.

“It’s okay,” you said, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder, coaxing his gaze back towards yours.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, it was sweet.”

“Does that mean you want to do it again?”

The hope in his eyes was so pure, it made you want to melt.

“If that’s what you’d like, then, yes.”

His bashfulness made you giddy, too.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You cupped his chin and brought him closer, so that his mouth could meet yours again. Your tongue met his, tentatively gliding over the tip of it, and he reciprocated the gesture. The kiss gained fervor as he became eager for more. You scooted closer to him until your knees were touching.

“It’s not even midnight yet,” you joked, breathing the words into his mouth.

“It is somewhere in the world,” he said, with an adorable grin that had you smiling like a little girl.

You intended to reach for his thigh, but landed a bit further up. Feeling his hard-on, you pulled your hand back, slowly, so as not to embarrass him.

“Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to. It does that on its own.”

You laughed. “It’s okay. I know how those things work.”

“Oh o-of course, you do. I forgot…”

“Forgot what? That I have a kid? Which means I’ve done much more than kissing.”

“Yeah. You probably have a lot more experience than me.”

“Maybe, but I’m older than you, so that’s natural.”

“Well, most guys my age have had… you know, sex, before, and, uh, I haven’t really done that much, yet.”

“It’s not a big deal to be a virgin. I think it was probably not my wisest decision to have sex in high school and get pregnant. Of course, I love my son, though.”

Your son was the one to thank for Leon ending up in your living room, so really, you couldn’t be mad that he’d cockblocked you more times than you could count, just by virtue of his existence. Turns out, most men your age who don’t already have kids, don’t want ‘em. Guess robbing the cradle really is your only choice.

“Yeah, yeah, definitely don’t want to get pregnant - not that I would get pregnant, but I don’t want to get anyone else pregnant, I mean.”

You laughed lightly. “I’m glad you know how it works, at least.”

“Sort of, yeah, the general stuff. We learned it all in health class, so…”

“Have you ever done anything? Besides sex, I mean. You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, of course.”

“Just kissing.”

“Please tell me I wasn’t your first kiss.”

“No, no.” This time he was the one laughing. “I’ve made out with girls before.”

“Just making out, though?”

“Yeah. Well, one girl let me see her boobs… and touch them.”

“What is that considered these days? Second base?”

“Not sure.”

“Have you ever wanted to do more?”

“Yeah, oh yeah, definitely, but I always get nervous.”

“You shouldn’t be nervous, but you should wait until you’re ready.”

“I’m definitely ready.” he said, looking down towards his obvious erection.

“Yeah,” you held back a laugh, “I noticed.”

“It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“It shouldn’t be. I’m flattered, really. I’m not as young and pretty as I used to be.”

“You’re really pretty. Really, really beautiful. And I think everyone thinks that.”

“You’re very cute. I’m sure not everyone thinks that, but thank you.”

You noticed he was fidgeting, debating probably.

“I should probably go,” he said.

“Have somewhere else to be?” you asked.

“No, well, I just, I mean, I have something to take care of," he stumbled over his words as he put his hands in his pockets, pretending as if you hadn't already acknowledged the obvious.

“Leon, are we talking about what I think we’re talking about?” You asked with an eyebrow raised. The signature, knowing look that all mothers have.

“It’s possible," he shrugged, trying to play it cool, though his breath was quickening.

“Do you want some help taking care of that?”

“Really?” his head perked up, surprised, delighted.

“Yes, really.”

“Oh, thank you, ma’am. That would be- I’d really like that.”

He was so precious you could cry.

“Sit back for me, then,” you whispered.

He relaxed into the couch as best he could, but it was obvious that he was tense. You couldn’t blame him. All you could do was help him.

“Is this okay?” you asked, when your hands reached his zipper.

He nodded repeatedly, gulping back excitement.

You made quick work of his jeans and his boxers with his eager assistance. Taking in the view, you thought, pretty cock for a pretty boy. It made sense, really. You almost pitied all the girls his age who’d missed out on the chance to see it before you got your hands on him. When you spit directly onto his dick - for lubrication, not degradation (you’d never do that to a poor virgin like Leon) - he gazed at you, slack-jawed and hands twitching, unsure of where to place them. It only took a few pumps of your hand down his length to make him whimper.

You stopped - much to his dismay - and looked at the clock. It was getting pretty close to midnight. The two of you had already shared your New Year’s kiss - the novelty had already been savored, so you needed something else, a new game to play.

“Leon?” you asked.

“Yes, ma’am?”

“Do you want to play a little game with me?”

“Sure. What kind of game?”

“How about this,” you started, running your hands up his thighs, beginning your teasing routine, “I start touching you again, and then when you think you’re really close to cumming, you tell me and I’ll stop… and then start again.”

It sounded as torturous for him as it would be, but you flashed him a sweet smile, one that promised you’d take good care of him.

“You mean like edging?”

Well, when you put it like that, yeah, Leon. He must not be as innocent as you'd assumed.

“Yes.”

“But do I get to cum at all, like ever?”

He was already giving you a pouty face, fearing the worst.

“Yes, at midnight.”

Leon looked at the clock, preparing himself for the amount of teasing he’d have to endure.

“All right,” he agreed to your proposal.

“Good boy,” you said, not intending much by it, but it was well-received by Leon - the sharp intake of breath was so distinct.

Your hand made its way back to his dick, beginning with languid strokes. He was quick to stop you after what felt like only a few seconds. It could've been a minute, maybe, but no one was counting yet.

“‘M getting close,” he mumbled, grabbing your wrist.

“Really close?” you asked, not wanting to stop pre-emptively.

“Yeah,” he said, looking away in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, but you could see the redness rising to his ears.

“Are you always this sensitive?” you asked, a little bit self-indulgent, but genuine, still. Not too teasing.

“No,” he said quietly.

“Is it me?”

“I think so.”

You considered kissing him to keep him entertained, but you’d forgotten what it was like to be with such a young man. All the men in their 40s needed help keeping their dicks hard, you couldn’t play like this or they’d go soft.

You gave him a minute to relax before you went back to touching him. The cycle continued until the countdown. You watched the TV flash the numbers counting down the final minute. 60, 59, 58…

“Think you can make it?” you asked, your faith in him was quickly waning as he was clearly on edge.

49, 48, 47…

“I hope so,” he said through shaky breaths.

39, 38, 37…

“Do I have to stop?” you took your hand away briefly.

“N-no, no, no.” His tone wasn’t terribly reassuring, voice cracking when he spoke.

29, 28, 27…

You slowed down but didn’t stop fully. He looked like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t get it out.

19, 18, 17…

Labored breaths turned into moans, so focused on not cumming early that he couldn’t find the space in his thoughts to hold any shame.

“You’re doing so well, honey,” you cooed.

9, 8, 7…

“Thank you,” he said - or at least, tried to, though his lower lip trembled, making it difficult.

You looked up into his teary eyes.

6, 5, 4…

He leaned his head back, like his muscles were giving out, all the blood having rushed between his legs. His eyes were closed, but his lips were parted to let out a stream of ‘ah’s’ and ‘oh’s’.

3, 2, 1…

With a strangled sob, thick ropes of white ran down your hand. You leaned in to kiss him just like all the people in Times Square. You felt the pulsing sensation continue, almost more intense when your lips met his. His lips were pliant, as was his whole body after the release of tension.

“Happy New Year,” you said as you pulled back.

For a moment, all you received in response was his heavy breathing - if it weren’t for that, with the way he was splayed out before you, his body completely limp, you’d think he was dead.

“I’m not sure whether to say ‘thank you’ or ‘I’m sorry for making a mess,” Leon said finally, still looking blissed-out.

You laughed. “Neither. The correct response is ‘Happy New Year’.”

“Oh,” he said, as if he’d lost all sense of time and space, “Happy New Year”.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader #sub leon kennedy #not beta read #fics #miss oranje fics

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gladiatorcunt · 2 months ago

Text

- EASTER EGG BASKET | VII.

together, intertwined, mouths bruised with love and souls bitten

cw: kinktober prompt (spit roasting), fem reader, age gap (reader in their 20s & cherik in their 40s), set during first class but they’re older and the school’s already established more, unprotected sex, teacher’s pet!reader, eventual teacher-student relationship, background established cherik and a mention of alex x hank, power imbalance, dubcon, lowkey coercion, “slut” used one time by you @ you, southern!reader, controlling older men :3

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

“And what do we have here?”

You stop your mindless floating in the pool, freezing at the sound of a deep male voice. You knew exactly who it was from the very first disappointed breath.

“Mr. Lehnsherr, um, fancy seeing you here.” You bite your lip, awkwardly kicking your legs back and forth since your mutant ability unfortunately isn’t catapulting your body out of water.

“Yes, in the manor’s off limits after hours pool, how funny.” Erik says flatly, unamused. “Lights out was five minutes ago, my dear, care to tell me why exactly you aren’t in bed?”

You sheepishly scratch the back of your neck, “I just wanted to come cool off, I was going right back to bed da- sir, I swear.”

Great. Now your cheeks are hot at your near slip up, something that your teacher seems to catch. His lips quirk up on a barely there smile, and you suddenly wished you had the strong will to drown yourself right here right now.

“Oh, I wish I could believe you.” He tuts, not as willing to let you get away with shit like Charles, but Erik has his own soft spot for you. “And what are you wearing? Because I know that isn’t one of the school’s swimsuits.”

The piece in question being a skimpy pink two piece, the bikini top covers only the upper half of your breasts and ends just under your nipples. The bottoms of your tits hang out through a cut out and the straps of the bottom rest high on your hips. The strings are held together by a little studded heart.

“It’s something from home, southern summers are hot, sir.” You don’t hide yourself away in newfound shame despite that being what you’re feeling.

You cross your arms under your boobs, pushing the ample mounds up and squishing them together. Erik’s cold eyes follow the movement and he swallows, but the same unimpressed look is still plastered all over his face. You want to pout and stomp your foot, but you’re lucky he hasn’t turned your ass in to Charles yet, maybe there’s a way for you to get out of this without a punishment of any kind.

“Yes, well.” His voice is gruff as he clears his throat, “Charles sent me to find you. He gets worried when you’re not where he expects you to be, where we both expect you to be, am I clear?”

Your guilt isn’t as believable when your ass cheeks are out for one of the teachers you’re insane over to leer at, but you do drown in it. You’re miles away from any family, and when your ultra religious southern family found out about you being a mutant, they called you a demon and promptly kicked you out. You’re lucky that Charles found you when he did, and the things he and later Erik learned that you had been through made them feel quite protective of you.

You know perfectly well that it feels good to be a teacher's pet at the top of the class who never does anything wrong in their eyes. To get male validation just for breathing in their general direction, especially when there are so many students here with similar if not worse sob stories. For you at least, it was love at first sight.

You just really needed this one little instance of rebellion, to do laps back and forth in the perfectly cool blue water until the thoughts of being stuck between teachers who are twice your age were washed away. And that was after you had played with your clit only to scream into your pillow because you couldn’t get over that peak.

“I know, I'm sorry it was just this one time. I’ll use the pool when it’s open during the day next time, I promise.” You nod, willing to just take the loss and say whatever Erik wants to hear so you go back to your dorm without this ever getting back to Charles’s ears.

With Erik, disappointing him is kind of sexy because he scowls and his biceps bulge when he crosses his arms before he scolds you. He has rough hands that you can so easily imagine smacking the shit out of you, and you don’t just imagine him hitting your ass either.

Plus, his comfort hit so much deeper when he would cup your face and stroke a thumb over your hair, letting you the softness seep into his gaze when you promise to be good.

With Charles, disappointing him is still sexy, but you feel awful much quicker. He’s a real “I’m not mad, just disappointed.” kind of man, and seeing the way his mouth twists and he refuses to even look you in the eye has you shrinking like a violet. It takes a lot more begging to get his attention and even more sincere promises to do better to get him to smile again, chuckling and fondly exasperated as he instructs you to run along.

Erik is still in the bulging biceps phase, glaring down at you at the edge of the pool until something unreadable flashes across his vision. “You know what? You’re right, you are sorry, why don’t I keep you company in the pool if you’re so stressed? Since you can’t be trusted to not wander off on your own right now.”

Your eyes widen to the size of marbles as you watch your teacher strip off his hoodie and shorts, down to only his bare body, and jump in the pool beside you. You sputter and hurriedly wipe away the water that splashes your face. Erik chuckles and swims to brush up against your front, immediately grabbing your waist and digging his fingers into your flesh.

His hands drift up to run along the sides of your breasts, groping you through the wet fabric. You trace his stubble and whimper into his mouth when he bites your lower lip. Your breath hitches, helplessly staring into his eyes, not fighting or pushing him away. He gets the answer that he wants to the question in his eyes and sweeps you into a kiss, the swolshing of the water moving around you is the only thing you can hear other than your thundering heartbeat.

The rest, as they say, is history. Because you’re making out with Erik in no time flat and humping his bare cock the best you can in the water when a familiar throat clearing sound goes off like a gun above you. The heavy clack of his oxfords pounding the wet tile surrounding the pool, the fancy french cologne that you’ve imagined stealing and spraying on your pillow.

There he is, you had to know in the back of your mind that once Erik had gotten there, it was only a matter of time before Charles followed. You lick away the string of spit connecting you and Erik and smile your most charming smile, still humping him even as Charles frowns.

“S-sir, we were just- I’m gonna go back to bed soon, honest.” It’s flimsy and a god awful apology but you’re too horny to care. You can make it up to him after somebody screws your brains out, not a second before.

And Charles knows already, you can feel him in your mind and while you’re definitely self conscious about what he sees, you can’t help but sigh in relief when he starts unbuckling his belt after rifling around in there for a minute. His blue eyes seem more vivid to you now, watered with color in the face of your wildly inappropriate feelings.

“Do not think I'm not still upset with you, young lady, we have curfews for a reason and if you can’t follow them, you’ll be confined to going to your classes and going straight to your dorm.” His melodic voice warns you, but you can only beam and nod so he sighs, resolving to tell you again when you don’t have a singular thought bubble with a picture of their cocks in your brain.

“Yes yes yes, I promise this won’t happen again, just please, sir.” You’re not above begging already, part of being a teacher’s pet means doing what you have to do to keep yourself on the pedestal they put you on.

Erik’s hands flex on your waist, “Now now, don’t be so eager, pet. Wouldn’t want you to get too cock hungry now would we?”

He says it like they obviously would but Charles shoots him a look and Erik laughs, going back to groping your tits through your bikini top. Charles soon slips into the water on your other side, and soon enough you’re sandwiched in between the both of them. Charles runs his hands down your back and settles them on your ass, sharply smacking the globes before telling Erik to sit on the edge of the pool.

“You’re going to give me more gray hairs than I already have, you know that?” Charles sighs, “It’s only fitting I take some of that stress out on this gorgeous body, hm, darling?”

“Uh huh, I’m so so sorry, sir.” You babble, pitching yourself forward to mouth at Erik’s bare length as Charles slides his hands around your hips and grinds against your ass.

Erik spreads his legs, “Greedy girl, come get it then.”

You suckle at the thick tip, flicking your tongue out to catch the drops of pre that leak out and take him down your throat as Charles pulls the strings of your bikini bottom loose. You squeal in pleasant surprise when he parts your ass cheeks to get a good look of your pussy underwater, running his thumbs over your folds and teasingly dipping into your hole.

You whine around Erik’s cock, already to the hilt, his balls resting on your chin. He chuckles and pats your cheek, goading Charles into giving the poor thing what she wants already, you might die of need on them.

“We’ve fantasized about this while we fucked on our own time, Charles, there’s no use in pretending any longer.”

You eagerly hum on Erik’s length, bobbing your head up and down, only faltering at the hint of Charles’s cockhead against your entrance. He teasingly swipes it through, slipping a few of his fingers in to stretch you enough while causing you too much pain. You have to face some kind of punishment after all, he and Erik will kiss it better later.

“Now, pet, keep your mouth where it is and relax your legs, let me in.” Charles pants, slowly sinking into your tight warmth as you suck Erik off.

Once you’ve adjusted enough, despite still reeling from the stretch and burn, his slow but deep thrusts push your head further into Erik’s lap. You look up at the latter with teary eyes, he laughs and brushes them away from your lower lash line, guiding you to bob your head more.

Charles hisses, fingernails scratching at your love handles as he picks up the pace. He loves the way you gag on Erik when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the way you can’t run away from either them or what they do to you or what you do to them. He knows that this moment was inevitable, always in motion and in the making since the day you met. You project your dirty little fantasies so loudly, Charles would have to lock the door to his classroom after every period so he could get himself off.

You gurgle around Erik, your nose buried in his trimmed pubes and inhaling his musk as you deepthroat him. Charles tightens his grip, moving to grope and play your ass from behind, his thrusts speed up even faster. Eventually the water is rippling around the three of you, the manor’s pool making mini waves as Charles’s girthier cock splits your pussy open.

You feel so full, your mind is so painted white that you can’t think about anything else but the long dick filling your mouth and the thick dick buried in your velvet grip.

“So good for us, if you were feeling restless you could’ve just sneaked into either one of our rooms. We wouldn’t have minded.” Someone says, maybe Charles, even though he would be the one who would protest too much before giving up the charade.

You give up on actively sucking Erik off and just let the force of Charles’s thrusts shoot you up and down to take his length into your mouth over and over and over. Blinking up at them in a daze as if you have no other thoughts in your puppy brain, just a bimbo slut for them to share and use between them. You drift in that sub space for ages, letting them direct your movements on their cocks like the most loved and well kept doll in the world.

“Fuck, darling!” Charles grunts, pounding your gummy walls and focusing on your choked up whines and moans.

Erik groans, his large hips jutting pistoning his aching dick into you, caught up in the embrace of your tongue and throat. The sight of your lips stretched obscenely wide around his meat. He wishes he took the time to slap his shaft against your face, demeaning you with the tip on the center of your lolled out tongue.

“Hottest little mouth I’ve ever fucked, be proud of that, dear.” Erik grits out, wrestling his pleasure from the depths of your gaping jaw.

Charles reverently kneads the fat of your globes and Erik lovingly caresses the apple shaped swell of your cheeks with his rough fingertips. Both of the cocks in you twitch as they spill inside, and your eyes flutter shut. You’re too busy drinking every drop of Erik’s salty seed to react to Charles finessing your clit until you're dirtying the pool water with your own orgasm. Your fluids float off to mix with the bits of Charles that leak out of you, and you’re almost genuinely sad at the thought.

They intertwine their fingers when they push in a cold metal buttplug back in Charles' room, which you come to find out is one they share. That sentiment is true about the room as well.

You and Alex avoid looking each other in the eye when he catches you coming out of their room on the way to class, and you see Hank passed out on the bed behind his opened door.

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sonotpattismith · 2 months ago

Text

My Lost, Fearless Leader. (yuta okkotsu x reader)

As the men masqueraded, I hoped you’d return with your feet on the ground, tell me all that you’d learned, because love’s never lost once perspective is earned.

word count: 9k warnings: angst, me never making it easy for poor Yuta a/n: inspired by Peter by Taylor Swift. Lowkey a self-insert as I too am a therapist, tee hee. I hope y’all enjoy it, I absolutely love writing for Yuta even though I make him suffer every time 🥹🫶🏻

masterlist.

Dear Okkotsu,

I know you only landed last week, but you left me with so many questions when you said goodbye. At the risk of sounding too forward, I thought for a moment that you would kiss me before you left. You had a look in your eye, one I’d never seen before, and I even thought I saw you square your shoulders like you were about to charge into battle.

Inumaki offered to give me your number when I asked about you, but I feared too quick of a response if I were to text you. After all, I love to torture myself. Somehow a letter felt safer, more disconnected. Still, I hope you have the time to write back to me while you’re out there growing as you so desperately wanted to.

You still have me in your corner here in Tokyo.

With kind regards,

L/N.

Dear L/N,

I hope this letter gets to you soon, though I know it has some way to go— I don’t want to leave you waiting again. I wondered if I should just text you, but you’re right, maybe this is best for wimps like me who were too scared to kiss the girl they like before traveling oceans away. There’s more courage in me hiding behind a pen than I ever had standing in front of you.

No matter how badly I wanted to show you how I felt, I didn’t feel worthy enough when I looked at that scar on your face— one I should have been able to prevent. There’s so much for me to learn about this world, and Gojo-Sensei says Kenya is where I need to be. I trust him implicitly, and I only hope here I’ll be able to grow into someone worthy of coming back to all of you at Jujutsu High. Maybe I’m getting ahead of myself, but I hope to become someone worthy enough to indulge myself in you as well.

I hope you can find it in you to wait for me all the way in your corner of Tokyo.

Respectfully,

Okkotsu.

Dear Okkotsu,

You were right, your letter did travel far, and after two weeks, I feared I may not ever hear back from you.

What happened with Geto Suguru wasn’t your fault, and, if I remember correctly, you were the one that saved all of us that night. It breaks my heart that you feel you don’t have a place here with us. I never thought you needed to prove yourself, and if that’s the only reason you went thousands of miles away— then you should board the next flight back over.

If I had known it was the scar on my face that stopped you, I would have covered it just for you. No one else around here is willing to take the blame for me when I break one of Maki’s spears— that alone should earn you a spot right beside me over here. Speaking of, I hope the bump on your forehead has gone down.

Luckily for the both of us, patience is my best virtue, but I do hope you don’t make me wait terribly long. You don’t have to be the strongest.

Holding my breath,

Y/N.

Dear L/N,

Maybe eventually I’ll work up the courage to call you, but our weeks of waiting in between will just have to do for now.

I think you’re beautiful— regardless of your scar, and I hope I didn’t send the wrong message when I said it’s what stopped me. I only meant that it reminded me of the kind of guy that deserves your attention, one that has brought about more good than he has bad in his life.

I’ve hurt so many people, and it wouldn’t be right of me not to try to make up for the wrongs I’ve caused. It’s only been a month, but Miguel has taught me so much, and I’ve seen so many wonderful things. I’m not sure if you’re interested, but I’m sending you some pictures of all my favorite parts.

I hope Maki has been merciful to you, and, yes, my bump is gone. Still, the little scar there reminds me of you each time I see it. So, I suppose I should thank her.

We’ve been talking so much about me, but I want to hear how you’re doing back in your corner of the world. How have your classes been going? I almost miss hearing everyone arguing with Gojo-Sensei every morning.

I don’t want to be the strongest, but I want to be strong enough to be worthy of you. The last thing I want is to keep you waiting too long, but however long it takes for me to be able to make a mark on those who have shown such faith in me.

Thinking of you,

Okkotsu.

Dear Yuta,

Surely that’s not you in that picture beside the giraffe? It’s only been two months— what are they feeding you over there? I had to do a triple take. You look well, Okkotsu.

I’m starting to wonder if it’s really you behind that ink. You were never so bold when you were here. Do you have a ghostwriter? I have my doubts, but I still hope all those thoughtful words really are coming from you.

I can see how hard you’ve been working, and I hope you’re beginning to find in yourself the pride I and all us here at home have always had in you. I don’t think anyone blames you for the unfairness that’s clung to you thus far, and no one expects you to make up for any of it— at least I know I don’t. If you really insist on doing so though, maybe you can start by giving me a call every once and a while? I’m sure you're busy, but I’d love to hear your voice again.

Classes have been going well. We’re almost going into our second year now, and everyone still talks so fondly of you. We wish you were here to start the year with us. I certainly miss having someone who was equally as clueless when it came to this world— it felt like you were the last shred of normalcy I was hanging onto. It’s okay though, I suppose I have some growing to do too.

Also, you don’t need to be so formal with me, I think you’ve earned the first name basis. Unless of course, you need to build up the courage for that, too.

I only felt it was fair to send some pictures of all of us here as well— though they’re nowhere near as badass as your safari photos. Please keep sending them— I’ll cherish the ones I have here for now though.

Still waiting for you,

Y/N.

Three months following Yuta’s departure from Tokyo, you first received an actual call from him. You had just turned in for the night, muscles aching from the mission you and Maki had just returned from only an hour or two prior. Truthfully, you were having a difficult time with the added responsibility that was accompanying your new year at Jujutsu High.

Last year, at the very least, you had Yuta there who seemed on a fairly level playing field with you. Still, he held more of a determination to move forward in his life as a sorcerer than you did. After your encounter with Geto Suguru that had left you partially blinded in your right eye, it was difficult for you to find that gusto you had when you first arrived.

The deep lulls of slumber had just begun to penetrate your exhausted mind, and you could swear a more pleasant dream was just beyond your reach. When your phone began vibrating underneath your still cool pillow, your brows furrowed at the intrusion. The sound caused an electric-like jolt in your body that had you shooting up as if someone had just pulled the fire alarm. Calming your racing heart, you reached down to snatch the device up. Your eyes squinted to adjust to the blue light emitting from the screen, and you saw a number you didn’t recognize. Under the caller location though, it indicated that it was coming from Kenya.

Sitting up with a gasp, you gaped down at the device, uncertain excitement bubbling in your stomach and up your chest. Without a second thought, you swiped to answer the call. Amidst your anticipation of who you thought might be on the other line, you forgot to greet the caller.

“Um… uh- hello?”

A smile spread across your cheeks at the sound of his timid voice.

“A call from Kenya,” You began teasingly, your voice still hoarse from sleep. “I wonder who it could be.”

There was an abrupt shuffling on the other line, and you could already picture him pacing around whatever space he was currently occupying.

“You got me!” Yuta quipped nervously, quickly checking the time on his phone upon hearing the sleepy tone that laced your voice. It wasn’t too late over in Tokyo, and he figured if he didn’t call you now while he still had the nerve to do it, he never would. Okkotsu had determined during his time in Kenya that his confidence somehow peaked right after a successful mission. Naturally, this was when he calculated it would be the best time to call you with the lowest possibility of making a stuttering fool of himself. “Di-Did I wake you? I can call back another-”

“After you took three months to gather all that courage up?” You joked with a fond smile, reaching down to toy with the corner of your pillow. Despite the fact that he couldn’t see you, you shook your head. “I think I can stay up for a few minutes.”

He was grateful, so eternally grateful that you couldn’t see the way the blood rushed up his neck and into his face. Pressing a cool hand against his cheek as if it would make the heat die down, he forced himself to sit on the edge of his bed, bottom lip caught between his teeth. It had been too long already since he last spoke, and the silence on the call was becoming overbearing as he thought of anything to say.

“You there, Yuta?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’m, uh-- still here.” The boy chuckled pathetically, pounding his balled up fist against his thigh, willing himself to quit being such a loser. Shooting up to begin his short trek around his room once again, he took a deep breath. “I-I wanted to thank you. You know, for writing to me the past few months. I think they’ve been kind of motivating me, actually.”

“Yeah?” You smiled, lying back down on your pillow to stare stupidly up at the ceiling of your dorm. In hearing that shy voice that you had been missing for so long, you had forgotten about the aching, abused muscles that had been assaulting you just minutes prior. In its place was the rushing endorphins of your child-like crush on the boy on the other line. “So, when you come back strong enough to beat Sensei’s ass, I can take partial credit, right?”

His soft laugh filled your once silent room, inciting the overwhelming butterflies in your stomach to erupt in a fluttering haze.

“It’ll all be you.” Yuta joked halfheartedly, rubbing the back of his neck in relief that he’d gotten past the awkward silence unscathed. He flopped back down onto his bed and looked out the window at the slowly setting sun. “Uh… speaking of Sensei, how is everything over there? The exchange event is coming up soon, right?”

This made your smile slowly wane.

“Yeah, it’s next month. There was some drama with the first years, but everyone else seems to be pretty excited.”

“Everyone else? It sounds like you’re not including yourself in there.”

You sighed gently. Yuta was always so determined about growing as a sorcerer, so these types of events were always right up his alley. Not to mention the manner in which he absolutely wiped out the sister school at last year’s event. It actually caused a bit of second-hand embarrassment to watch the whole ordeal play out— no matter how quickly it concluded. After the atrocities of the past few months though, you couldn’t find it within yourself to be excited for the goodwill event.

It wasn’t that long ago that you watched all your friends meet near death at the hands of Suguru Geto, and you weren’t too far behind. They had all seemingly moved on from it all so fast— all of them except for Yuta Okkotsu. It seemed that all it had done was given him more ammunition to spark his journey of self discovery. You wished it had had the same effect on you. In truth though, all it sparked was a fear that your life, along with your friends, was constantly at the mercy of a crueler fate than most your age would be subjected to.

It felt wrong. Yuta shouldn’t have felt the need to bear the weight of you and your friends’ injuries all on his own. He shouldn’t have needed to go off to search for some unknown answer to all the insecurities his grueling life had thrust upon him. Still, it was so important to him. You could see the way it gave him purpose, a will to keep going despite all that he’d been through. It wasn’t his fault, but you always wished you could have found that same purpose within slaying curses and putting your life on the line.

A soft call of your name on the other line pulled you from your self-depricating thoughts. Shaking your head, you attempted to lighten the mood.

“Last name again? So formal. I thought we were past that, Okkotsu.”

“Oh-- right, sorry.” He stammered out before trying your first name out on his lips. It was delicate in the way it rolled off his tongue, sending warmth straight through your chest. Recalling your sudden silence once his nerves subsided, his lips pulled pensively into a thin line. “Um, have you been doing okay? You know, since…”

Brows rising just a hair, you were shocked at how easily he read through your sudden change in tone. Your lip quivered into a slight frown. A deep breath was suddenly pushing down that biting urge you had to tear up.

“Yeah, I’ve been okay. Just… wish you were still here is all.” You confessed into the dark, lonely dorm room. “I think you were the only one who understood how overwhelming this all was.”

Yuta felt his chest constrict at your earnest confession. Part of him felt guilty for not being there, but he knew deep down that he was doing the right thing by building himself up before he allowed himself to come back— especially to you. Still, the boy knew where you were coming from. It wasn’t easy being the newcomer in a world where your peers had a fifteen year head start on.

The two of you understood each other—empathized with one another. You both strived to make sure the other was doing okay; whether that be sneaking out late at night to practice with one another in hopes you both wouldn’t make fools of yourselves in training the next day, or just being someone that the other could glance knowingly at when one of your classmates mentioned something it seemed that everyone else was privy to, except you two.

“I’m getting stronger everyday.” Yuta offered earnestly, a soft, empathetic smile playing on his lips— the kind you could just hear through his gentle tone. “And I know you are too. We’re gonna kick some major butt one day, y’know?”

The boy was relieved when your glittering laugh filled his speakers, and he found himself laughing along with you. A comfortable silence blanketed over you two, and for a moment it felt as though you were laying right beside him, your gentle breaths lighting a fire within his soul. The courage that he thought he had lost upon hearing your voice for the first time in months was slowly flooding back to him, and he began pensively rolling his bottom lip between his fingers.

“Hey,” Okkotsu called out feebly, resting his hand down on his chest and feeling his heart pounding against his fingers. Reaching down to your discarded letter beside him, he picked up the picture you’d sent along with it. It was of all the second years, and he wondered with a smile if you had Gojo-Sensei take it for you all, and, if so, how much he complained about not being included.

You stood in the middle of Inumaki and Maki, Panda standing proudly and towering behind you. His thumb reached out to graze softly over your face. In the photo, one of your hands was teasingly covering your right eye, and he blushed as he remembered your earlier conversation about that scar. You hummed in acknowledgment on the other line. “Did you mean it? You know… when you said you’d wait for me?”

“Did you mean it when you said you were gonna come back for me?” You countered quickly.

Yuta exhaled nervously, the churning in his chest making him feel as though he might pass out. Staring back at your smiling face in the photo, he nodded breathlessly.

“Of course, I meant it. I meant every word.”

“Then so did I.”

Yuta Okkotsu’s reassuring promise helped ground you in your studies of jujutsu for a while longer, but you could still feel the aching insistence in the back of your mind that told you this wasn’t where you were meant to be. Your friendship with the sorcerer continued to grow even over the thousands of miles that separated you.

He’d call you whenever he had the chance to, and you’d text him about updates on what all his friends had been up to without him. Although both Inumaki and Maki kept up with him regularly, he allowed you to retell stories he’d more often than not already heard from them.

He could tell that you were struggling to find and hold your place as a sorcerer. You always listened enthusiastically when he’d tell you about the new techniques he was learning or the missions he’d been sent on, nodding along on the other line and hanging onto every word he said. Still, when he’d await to hear the progress of your training or how your latest mission had gone, you didn’t have the same enthusiasm in your tone.

It had been almost a year since he’d been gone. The two of you had never implicitly discussed the nature of your relationship, but your lingering promise to each other seemed to be enough to keep your hearts locked safely away for the other’s return. As the months dragged on though, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth staying in the world of jujutsu that seemed to so expertly traumatize you and your peers.

You insisted on video calling him for once, eager to once again put a face to the voice that had been filling your every night for the past few months. Maybe, you thought to yourself, if you saw those warm, inviting eyes again paired with that timid smile, you’d find it in you to hold out just a bit longer.

“Ca-Can you see me?” Yuta’s ever anxious voice filled your quiet room once again. The palm of his hand briefly covered the camera before it was moved away, and it appeared as though he had propped you up on a dresser of some sort. He stepped back, hunching over so his face was still in the frame, staring hesitantly into the screen.

A brief exhale of disbelief left you at the sight of him. He had changed so much over the past year; from the inches he’d sprouted up, to the new broadness of his lean shoulders, right down to his more maturely parted hair as it swayed in his face.

His features appeared sharper than when you’d last seen him, a testament to how much he’d grown physically as well as mentally. The dark circles you remember being everpresent under his long, midnight-blue eyes seemed even more pronounced now, and you wondered just how hard this Miguel character had been working him. Despite his apparent lack of sleep though, he grinned cheerfully upon seeing your face.

Forgoing your previous concern, an ecstatic smile of your own lit up your face as you took him in. You had always thought he had a sort of innocent, gentle cuteness to him, but time and knowledge seemed to have morphed those characteristics into the sharp, hauntingly striking ghost of the boy you once knew presented before you. For the first time since knowing him, you thought you felt more nervous than he did at the moment.

“Wow! You look--” He paused, a slight flush filling his face, and suddenly he was that timid boy again, staring down at you with the false promise of a kiss. Your heart melted at the sight. Yuta was still looking nervously back at you, mouth hanging open as if his mind was running faster than his tongue could process. You raised your brows expectantly at him, hiding your amused smile. “Uh—pretty! You— you look really pretty.”

A soft blush fell across your cheeks.

“Thanks, Yuta.” You laughed softly, eyes fluttering across his face admiringly. “You look like you’ve… grown.”

“Oh, me?” He laughed skittishly, hand coming up to rustle through his jet black locks. His brows were furrowed slightly as he looked down at his own appearance as if he was only just now noticing the growth spurt he’d had in the past year. “Yeah! I guess—”

“Is that blood on your shirt?” You suddenly noticed, leaning forward so your squinting eyes could get a better look at the dark matter that clung to his white top. His eyes shot up to meet yours, and in an instant, his fumbling hands were working to unbutton his uniform shirt. It was no use though, the white t-shirt underneath was also stained through.

“Sorry, I just got back from a mission.” He admitted dejectedly, grabbing the phone and sitting on the floor, resting his back against the bed behind him. “I would’ve showered, but I didn’t want to keep you up too late.”

You sat back against your headboard tentatively. It was incredible to you how he was never phased by the violence and bloodshed that shrouded this lifestyle. There were so many nights that you lay awake, eyes unblinking as you tried to forget the horrors you’d witnessed just long enough to get some sleep.

“How do you do it, Yu?” You asked timidly.

Yuta took in the way your wide eyes glimmered with the threat of unspilled tears. There it was again— that underlying fear in your tone and demeanor that told him that something wasn’t quite right, and it hadn’t been right since you came so close to death.

“What do you mean, love?” He wasn’t sure where that term of endearment came from, maybe from the concern that had been pooling in him for months and had now suddenly burst upon seeing that broken look in your eyes. Either way, it was too late to take it back now.

“Act like everything’s normal when you come home covered in blood and guts and watch people die— watch your friends—”

“I’m doing this for my friends.” His response had a defensive edge to it, but his wide eyes were gentle, taking in your vulnerable state carefully. “And for the people I’ve had to watch die. Bad things will happen whether I’m a part of them or not. How can I sit back and do nothing when that’s all I’ve done my entire life?”

You suddenly felt small in your corner of the world. He was selfless, fearless, purposeful in his mission as a sorcerer, and you couldn’t fault him for it. Moreso, you faulted yourself for lacking that same drive.

“I just– sometimes I feel like this isn’t for me. I’m not like you, Yuta. I don’t think I’m strong enough for this. I’m not strong enough for this.”

Yuta continued to insist upon believing in your growth, just as you had believed in his. His persistence in your strength of character only served to break your heart more. You knew the deeper his faith in you ran, the more crushing his disappointment would be when you inevitably let him down.

In the weeks following your dismayed conversation with him, you weren’t answering his calls as often, afraid he would be on the other line hoping to hear of your growth and the things you’d overcome— but you had none to show for. You usually texted him with false excuses that you were on a mission, or that you were simply too tired to talk that night. No matter how hard you tried to pride yourself in your little victories, your faith in your abilities as a sorcerer was waning quickly before your eyes.

He had always said that he was the one undeserving of his place in this world— of his place beside you. The stronger he grew though, the more you only noticed the opposite.

It was a month after your phone call that you received a small package from Kenya, recognizing the stamp immediately as one of the various animal themed ones Yuta seemed to keep stockpiled just for you. Chewing at your bottom lip, a sense of guilt washed over you, knowing you hadn’t been keeping up with him as much as you once did. Despite this, he continued to try, desperate to get through to you somehow before you slipped from between his fingers all together.

Ripping open the orange, padded envelope, you overturned the contents onto your bed. The wooden beads of a bracelet clacked softly against one another as they fell upon the comforter, a letter landing gently atop it. You ran your fingers along the thin bracelet, thinking maybe if you concentrated long enough, you’d be able to feel the warmth of his fingers lingering from when he’d carefully placed it into the envelope for you. You picked up the accompanying letter.

Dear Y/N,

It seems like they’ve been keeping you really busy over there in your corner of the world! I had so much I wanted to tell you, but I thought maybe it’d be best to put it all into a letter so you could read it at a time that’s best for you.

Gojo-Sensei says that I’ll probably be coming back soon, maybe in the next couple of months even. If all goes well, I hope to be joining everyone for our final year. It’d be nice to all be together again. It’d be nice to actually see you again.

You don’t have to tell me everything, but I know you’ve been going through a hard time recently, and I’m sorry I’m not there to help you. You were wrong the other night on the phone— you are stronger than you think. This life isn’t easy, and I don’t want you to feel like you’re not fit for it just because it hurts you right now.

When I felt I had no strength left in me to keep going, it was you who lent me some of yours until I could stand again. I’m sending it back to you now, so please use it to keep moving forward until I can lend you some of mine. Please, keep waiting for me.

The beads on the bracelet I sent you represent all the things I wish for you. The red represent bravery and strength, the kind I know you have in you still. Until you find them though, let these be a reminder. The yellow are for growth, and until you can see it coming your way, let these motivate you.

I got one just like it for myself, so I can be reminded everyday of the things I love about you. I’ll keep it on me always, and I hope as you’re waiting that you’ll do the same.

Still yours,

Yuta.

Tears were streaming freely down your cheeks and staining the precious letter before you. With wobbling lips, you bit back a quiet sob as you carefully slipped the thin bracelet onto your wrist. Strength. Bravery. Growth. They were all pillars that seemed so far away from you, but Yuta was convinced you held them just within your grasp. If anything, the beads would serve as a reminder that someone important was counting on you, and you’d rather suffer the uphill battle than disappoint him.

The next morning, you woke early to speak with Gojo. He was lounging lazily in his large, plush chair, laptop sat carelessly on his lap when you came in. As if expecting you all along, he looked up from his bored typing to offer a sly smile— the type that told you he was always steps ahead of you.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Gojo greeted, closing his laptop and setting it haphazardly on his desk. Leaning back, he laced his fingers casually in his lap, jutting his chin toward the seat in front of him.

Hesitantly, you sat down. Your posture was rigid as you stared back at his half-covered face. Although your sensei had never given you a reason to fear him, you couldn’t help but feel anxious at the thought of how he might react to your request.

“I… I don’t know how to say this.”

He stayed silent, allowing you to collect your thoughts. The small smile tugging at his lips said he already knew what was plaguing your mind. Fiddling with the bracelet on your wrist, you were reminded of the importance that you stand your ground here.

“I’m not sure I’m cut out for being a sorcerer.” It was out there, and it hung heavily in the air around you. Looking down at your twiddling fingers, you felt that familiar lump building in your throat. Your sensei was silent before you. Glancing up at him through tear soaked eyes, you shrugged your shoulders in defeat. “I’m not like the others. I can’t bounce back like they do. It scares me; the death, the fighting, the loss— it terrifies me, Gojo. I can’t do it anymore. I-I just—”

“You’ve been struggling for a while now, haven’t you?” It was more of a statement than a question— an observation he’d been holding onto for some time. The older man wasn’t oblivious, he could see when his students were beginning to slip away; physically and mentally.

“How did you know?” You briefly wondered if Yuta had mentioned something to him during their regular check in calls, but you doubted it.

Standing abruptly from his chair, he strolled leisurely around the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets.

“You remind me of someone, is all.” Gojo’s cryptic message left more questions than answers. Though you had grown used to his dodgy answers and coded messages, now was really not the time. Before you could express your annoyance, he continued. “You’re not stuck, you know.”

Your mouth hung open as you stared at him in disbelief. Standing up to face him as he stared out the window, your mind was racing at the possibilities.

“You mean— I could leave? Just like that?”

“Just like that. I’d talk to the higher ups today for you if that’s really what you want.” Still, the edge in his tone indicated that he wasn’t about to let you off that easily. As if sensing your apprehension, he tilted his head playfully toward you, a fond smile on his face. “I’ve seen what this gig can do to people. I don’t need to see you fall victim to it too.”

“I mean— I…” You were stumbling over your words. For the past few years, you were sure that your future was set for you— one you were apprehensive about living, but one that was secure nonetheless. Where would you go from here?

Gojo hummed pensively— invitingly. God, how you wished he would just spit out what he clearly wanted so desperately to say. Of course, he always wanted his students to come to their own conclusions, set their own fates.

“The Night Parade of a Hundred Demons.” The sensei announced dramatically, taking another lap around the room. You shivered at the mention of that night. He leaned toward you with a raised brow. “That’s when this all started, am I right? You almost died, if I remember correctly.”

“I would have if it hadn’t been for—”

“Yuta Okkotsu.” He cut you off, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips, and for a moment you thought you saw his head tilt down as if to look at the bracelet you were currently rolling between your fingers. Nodding softly, he continued. “Still, you cut it pretty close. Must have been traumatizing. Partially lost your sight, almost lost your friends, your life.”

You nodded silently, unsure of where he was going with this long winded rant. Of course, him giving you a simple out was just too easy for Gojo-Sensei’s ‘everything is a life lesson’ style of teaching.

“Tell you what, why don’t I set up a meeting for you to meet with a counselor? Someone who specializes in all our creepy-crawly problems?”

“Like… like therapy?” You questioned with furrowed brows. A therapist for sorcerers? You didn’t even know such a thing existed. Still, the prospect sparked a certain hope in your chest, one that the six eyes saw instantly. He didn’t bother to conceal his victorious smile.

“Yup. Nice, comfy couch and everything.” He advertised as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. His long fingers began typing purposefully against the screen before he looked up at you again. “Of course, she’s kind of running a one-man show, so her schedule is pretty tight. I can pull a few strings for you though.” His words rang in your mind with a faint echo. That suggestive, underlying tone in his voice, it was beginning to seep through, and your gut was telling you his suggestion was a lot more calculated than you would ever give him credit for. “That kind of work is in high demand, you know— what with all the new curses popping up since Itadori came along.”

Gojo was continuing to drop hints, but you had already heard him loud and clear. This was something he thought you could do— somewhere he knew you would fit within this hectic world. As a teacher, it was his job to train the up and coming sorcerers for the perils that lay ahead of them. In the same prospect though, he had also become incredibly adept at discovering their potential and nudging them toward it— even if it wasn’t as gently as he thought.

The following week you met with the therapist Gojo had supposedly pulled so many strings to get you in to see. She had a small office just minutes away from the school, and you wondered why she wasn’t on campus. She hadn’t suggested it to you first, though she was well aware of what Gojo was trying to do when he set up this meeting.

So, amidst your explanation of everything you had been experiencing since that night, you dropped in questions. How did she know this was the right path for her— how closely did she work with Jujutsu High— how did she get where she was?

By the gentle and encouraging manner in which she answered all of your questions, you had a gut feeling once again that Gojo had already been three steps ahead of you. You were set to transfer out of Jujutsu High the following week.

Your sensei funded your education through an outside university, who’s higher ups had connections with the school. Kaori, the god-sent sorcerer counselor who’d seemingly fallen from the heavens right when you needed her, was more than happy to take you under her wing as well. In truth, she was relieved to have some help around the office given the influx of referrals she’d been receiving recently.

Everything had been falling into place, yet there was still one last loose end you had yet to tie up from your life as a sorcerer. You looked down at the box of letters you’d kept over the past year or so from Yuta.

Following his last letter, and how determined he seemed to be that you would make it as a sorcerer— you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that you had given up. After everything he’d done to grow himself into the man he was now, a fearless and loyal sword to his friends and the innocent— and you had given up. In the end, despite his insistence that it was him not worthy enough to stick around, you realized it had been you all along.

You weren’t worthy of Yuta Okkotsu.

Your trembling finger hovered over his contact, but you couldn’t do it. Clicking your phone off, you stared up at the ceiling of your now empty dorm room and allowed the hot tears to burn your cheeks, dripping down your neck and into the hem of your shirt. He was still finishing up his training, growing into a man he could be proud of, experiencing the things that made him feel alive. It would be selfish of you to drop this on him now.

Setting down the box on your desk, you pulled out a spare sheet of paper and sat down to draft your last prose to Yuta Okkotsu.

Dear Yuta,

By the time you’re reading this, I’m sure you will have already heard about my departure from Jujutsu High. I wanted to call you and tell you everything that’s been on my mind, to give you a proper goodbye, but I didn’t want to interrupt your progress overseas.

I wanted to thank you for the kindness you’ve shown me over the years. I’ll cherish each bit of it as long as I live. You kept me holding on through my lowest points, even if it wasn’t the life of sorcery that I was holding onto.

I know I’m cowardly, but I just couldn’t look you in the eyes and tell you that I had given up. You’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so much to hold your place here, and I suppose a part of me feels foolish for giving mine up so easily.

Your passion for undoing the wrongs in this world is so beautiful, and although I couldn’t share it with you, it only ever made me love you more. Please never take it for granted. Continue to fight to hold your place here, because you hold more power than you could ever come to know. I can feel it, even when you’re not here.

I’m sorry that I couldn’t wait for you.

Forever yours,

Y/N

When Yuta Okkotsu arrived back at Jujutsu High three months later, he had already been sitting on the news of your departure for two weeks. His friends thought it best to at least prepare him for when he returned, but he figured so much when you stopped responding to his calls and messages. No amount of preparation could have stopped the hole from opening up in his chest upon reading the letter you’d left in his dorm room. It sat neatly on his untouched pillow— a ghost that haunted him the second he stepped in.

He tried with fervor to be excited for his return, smiling along half heartedly when his friends shoved a party hat on his head and insisted upon celebrating all the birthdays they’d missed. Those haunting blue eyes only stared lifelessly at the cake before him, his soul still sat on the edge of his bed where he’d read your letter.

Forever yours.

Yuta wondered if those simple two words meant the door was open for him to swing in and come find you as he so ardently promised he would. Gojo-Sensei said you were happy though— working toward your place in the world. It was one he no longer felt he had a place in— not when his life consisted so wholly of the very things you were running from.

Months passed, and the both of you tried so desperately to move on. Despite being content in the roots your lives had sprouted, there was always a missing piece that stopped the both of you from blossoming. You always held your breath in hopes he’d come back to you like he said he would, and he always hoped you were still waiting for him despite his insistence that you were happier without him. The both of you were only kids when you’d carelessly thrown out such a vow, after all.

Gojo felt whole-heartedly confident in his whim to have Kaori train you. There was a spark in you, one that wanted to heal those that this world had so carelessly wounded, even if that meant you having to heal yourself first. In the end, it was the right decision, and he prided himself in the fact that there was a happy medium to keep your talents within the jujutsu world still while also fulfilling your purpose. There was a missing piece of the puzzle that lingered ever present though, and that was the infuriating case of you and Yuta Okkotsu.

It was getting depressing— watching the boy mope around pretending to not have the very obvious chip on his shoulder all the damn time. Your old sensei still kept up with you and your progress often, seeing as the school worked closely with Kaori to refer in need sorcerers on a regular basis.

Each time he’d pop in for a visit or called unexpectedly, you’d always ask how everyone back at the school was doing. Sure, you really did hope your old friends were doing okay, but you were really holding your breath for when he’d mention Yuta. Gojo always spoke of him so highly, and you couldn’t help but smile fondly each time, thinking of how proud you were at how much he’d accomplished— just as he said he would. Still, the six eyes never missed that morose glimmer in your eye as you’d nod along to his stories.

“Have you ever tried sleeping at night, or are those dark circles just a part of you now?”

Yuta was snapped from his stupor when his sensei dropped unceremoniously beside him as he looked on at his friends ahead of him. As if having just been reminded of his perpetual exhaustion, he reached up subconsciously to rub at those aforementioned dark eyes.

“Oh, haha,” Yuta’s halfhearted attempt at a laugh only served to drive Gojo’s purpose right home. “Yeah, guess my sleep schedule never really adjusted back to normal, huh?”

“You aren’t performing like you should be, Okkotsu.”

He gaped exasperatedly at his sensei, blinking a few times as if maybe he just hadn’t heard him correctly. Frankly, he had been kicking ass lately, and everyone around him knew it too. Still, if Gojo-Sensei was telling him he was falling behind, it was seemingly the only opinion that mattered. Even if it wore him down till only his skeleton remained, he would keep getting better until he could prove himself to the man who took a chance on him.

Already picking up on the look of determination on the boy’s face, Gojo put out a solemn ‘slow your roll’ hand in front of him. Sighing in amusement, the sensei thought the boy would crush a semi-truck between his hands if it’d make him grow— meant he could prove himself.

“Your mind isn’t here. Hasn’t been since you got back. I can tell, you know.”

Okkotsu’s shoulders slumped dejectedly. No matter how much he worked to train physically, to learn to control his cursed energy and techniques, there was always that one lingering barrier that seemed to keep him from reaching his potential. Of course, he knew he had been more distracted since your departure, but he figured— hoped— it would pass eventually. He thought maybe if he ignored it long enough, pushed down that frenzy to rip his hair out by the roots and bellow out every frustration he’d held in for allowing you to slip away, each day as the urge melted away into dreams of you at night that woke him with a crater in his chest— maybe eventually it would fade just as you did.

“Try to get some rest, clear your mind. Do what you gotta do.” Gojo emphasized, leaning down to tower over his apprehensive prodigy with a knowing smile. His covered eyes flicked down to where Yuta’s fingers were rolling the beads of his colorful bracelet pensively. He hummed in amusement. “You know, I know someone who has that same bracelet.”

His student perked up ever so subtly upon hearing this. The prying man quickly moved to grasp his wrist and inspect the bracelet closer. It made Yuta feel exposed, wanting to crawl under his covers and not come out again if it meant no one else would lay their eyes on the one connection he still had to you. Gulping thickly, he snatched his wrist back, covering the wooden jewelry protectively under his other hand.

“Oh, you know her, don’t you?” Satoru feigned remembrance, snapping his fingers dramatically. “She used to go here.”

The stunned boy stammered out your name in question. It still felt so natural, so effortless rolling off of his tongue despite the prolonged period that had passed since he’d uttered those syllables.

“Yeah! Saw it on her just last week.”

All the blood seemed to drain from Yuta Okkotsu’s face. His wide, haunting eyes suddenly transfixed hazily on the smiling man before him in a manner that would have been terrifying had it been directed at a stranger. You still wore the bracelet he got you? The prospect had his mind spinning, and his stomach churning anxiously. The poor guy looked as though he would short circuit at any moment; brows twitching into a deep furrow, the corners of his lips fluttering in uncertainty. He blinked a few times before looking up at his sensei with a new sense of determination clouding his eyes.

“Where did you say she went?”

Bingo!

The clock’s ticking mocked you menacing as you raced to finish your assessment notes within the hour. Kaori was always merciful with you, understanding that you were still learning and would likely take more time with things, but you couldn’t help but urge yourself to do better.

It had been almost a year that you had been studying while working alongside the counselor, and you had blossomed in a way you never thought would have been possible. Granted, you weren’t able to do any of what you had lovingly labeled as ‘the fun stuff’ yet, you had adjusted surprisingly well to the countless intake assessments and documentation your mentor had entrusted you with. Of course, it wasn’t the same as having a second counselor there with her, but anything helped ease the weight of her overwhelming caseload. She knew it was good experience for you too.

Despite her hectic schedule, Kaori still found time to meet with you often to check in regarding the struggles that brought you to her in the first place, insisting it would be a crucial step in your training as well. Slowly but surely, you were beginning to rebuild that confidence in yourself and your own purpose in this monstrous world. It felt cathartic, being a part of the process of healing for those torn down by the very things that hurt you so long ago as well. It was meaningful— fulfilling.

You wondered if this was how Yuta felt when he was out there, helping people as well, just in his own way. A sharp pang struck you each time your mind wandered too far though, and you were always quick to reel it back in.

Your bottom lip was caught ruthlessly between your teeth, and it seemed the clacking of your keyboard was fighting against the ticking of the clock for dominance. A small spark of defeat struck you as you heard the door of the office creak open. Looking up at the time, your brows furrowed in confusion. You were sure that you had already completed the last intake Kaori had scheduled for you today. Scrambling into the drawer beside you to pull out a new form, you hoped you would at least look somewhat prepared whenever the unexpected patient came to your desk.

“Hi, there!” You called out from your tucked away cubicle, fumbling to save the document you were working on. “I’m back here, you can come on in.”

Slow footsteps approached closer and closer before pausing in front of your desk. Pushing the hair from your eyes, you looked up with a warm, inviting smile.

Oh.

The smile on your face slowly faded as Yuta Okkotsu towered over your desk. It wasn’t the version of him you once knew; this one was taller, more refined, more calculated with the manner in which he held himself. His wide, midnight-blue eyes regarded you carefully, but his face revealed nothing. Your mouth opened and closed pathetically, your mind desperately trying to catch up with the way your day had suddenly progressed. Stepping forward, he calmly sank down into the chair in front of you, hands gripping the arms casually.

“Yu—”

“I heard you offer counseling for sorcerers, right?” He was suddenly smiling sweetly at you, but there was a controlled glint in his eyes— holding him back. Not allowing you to respond, he continued. “Well, I have some things to get off my chest, so it’s lucky I found you, huh?”

You sank back into your chair, allowing the papers in your hands to slip from your fingers and swoosh softly onto the desk. Nodding gently, you urged him to go on, anxiety balling up in the pit of your stomach. He launched off on a long-winded story, one you already knew like the back of your hand— you lived it, after all. Your already knowing the climax didn’t stop the furious blush that overtook you as he recalled the letter he’d found in his dorm upon his arrival back to Tokyo.

“She always had this sweet way of signing off all her letters to me.” Yuta recounted with a soft smile, eyes glimmering as they looked back at you. Yours, on the other hand, were holding back the dam of tears that had been building up for countless months. As the first tear slipped down your cheek, you saw his resolve start to crumble, gaze chasing the drop as it raced down your skin. His bottom lip trembled. “She signed that last one— she signed it off ‘forever yours’, but I never saw her again.”

“Yuta—”

“Why didn’t you just tell me you weren’t happy?” He finally snapped, his own tears swimming in his eyes. Bracing his hands on the desk, he leaned forward desperately. “I would’ve understood, I would’ve—”

“I tried! I tried to tell you, but you were so sure that I was going to get through it. How was I supposed to look you in the eyes after you gave up so much of your life to train to be better? How was I supposed to tell you I was giving up?”

“You promised me!” His cry rang out in the quiet office, shoving his chair back to stand over you once again. You heard Kaori’s office door open abruptly, likely startled by the perceived altercation. Despite his dominating presence and lingering stance, you couldn’t find it in you to be intimidated by him. You shook your head softly toward your mentor, letting her know you were fine. As the door hesitantly shut once again, Yuta was sinking closer to you despairingly. “I would’ve come back for you— I wouldn’t have cared where I had to look, okay? I wouldn’t have cared that you left everything— but you weren’t supposed to leave me.”

His wounded tone finally caught up to you, and you let your head fall down onto your crumpled hands as you cried. Yuta sighed softly, almost regretting his stinging confession. Quickly looping around the desk, he settled down on his knees in front of you and turned you to face him.

“I’m sorry, Yuta.” You cried, falling into him as he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you from your chair. He was stronger than you last remembered him being, but his touch was just as delicate. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Hey, it’s okay. We’re here now, right?” He assured gently, pulling you away from his chest so he could look at you with a smile, tears still clinging to his lashes. His cool hand ran down from your shoulder to your wrist, and he traced the bracelet that hadn’t come off your wrist since you received it. A soft flush covered his cheeks. “You kept it, huh?”

“You kept yours, too.” You laughed breathlessly, wiping at your cheeks with one hand and grasping his bracelet with the other.

“I told you, I always meant everything I said to you. I still do.” His words almost made you break down again, but you worried if you started boo-hoo crying again that Kaori might just burst through the door with more determination than she had last time.

So instead, you took a moment to glance over his matured face, shaking your head in amusement upon seeing those familiar dark circles still hanging under his eyes. Your heart clenched as your eyes ran across the small scar that Maki left on his forehead. When you met his gaze once again, it gave you pause. Yuta had that look in his eyes— the same one he had all those years ago before he left for Kenya. The rapid patter of your heart could be felt in your throat.

Despite your nerves, your lips twitched up into a knowing smile. You reached up tentatively to place a hand over your right eye, covering the scar that had stopped him all those years ago. He pursed his lips at this action and shook his head. In an instant, his long fingers were wrapping around your wrist to pull your hand away from your face.

“Don’t.” Yuta said simply before leaning down to capture your lips in his, more assuredly than his sixteen year old self ever could have dared to, but just as sweetly as the boy who promised to come back to you would have.

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xsaltburnx · 10 months ago

Text

Don't leave me

Comforting Farleigh after Felix's death

Farleigh Start x female reader

a/n: I really wanted to write this because I feel like Farleigh needed someone to comfort him and tell him everything's going to be alright after he got yelled at and he definitely deserved better, poor baby, (also that's what I think the scene is about, if I got it wrong, sorry)

warning: Felix dying, swearing, everybody treating Farleigh like shit, drugs, Farleigh crying a lot

word count: 3,299

You have known Farleigh for as long as you can remember. He's always been there for you. Your rock, your shoulder to cry on, someone who knew all of your secrets and all your problems, always ready to help you. Even if it was 4 pm or 4 am, you called and he was there.

And you were always there for him. Even though most of the times you two were on different continents and hours and miles away from each other, you never let something like that ruin what you two had. Then things started getting a lot easier because Farleigh came to live in England and since then you were inseperable. Yes, you did spend quite some time at Saltburn even when Farleigh wasn't here because you were really good friends with Felix and then later met Venetia, who you've clicked with just like that. Yes, sometimes they had their own opinion on Farleigh and sometimes you hated the way they talked about him but he somehow learned how to shake that off and not take it too seriously, so you did exactly that even though deep down it hurt to listen.

When you joined Oxford university, you and Farleigh became even closer and you eventually fell in love with him. You kept it a secret for quite some time because you were afraid to talk about your feelings because you didn't want to lose him. He was your home and you weren't planning on losing that, but luckily he felt the same and that was it. He was everything you always wanted and you swore you would never let him go or do anything that would harm him or let him battle his problems alone. No fucking way.

Everything was going great. You finished another year at Oxford, celebration obviously planned there and then later at Saltburn. Summer was about to begin and you had a feeling this summer was going to be one to remember. And oh boy it was.. but for very different reasons.

"Hey baby." Farleigh walked into your dorm, closing the door behind him, his arms immedistely wrapping around your body, hugging you from behind. "Did you finish packing?" He aks gently as he looked around the room, your clothes still splatered across the floor and your bed, messier than the first night you came here.

"Shut up." You playfully hit his arm as you heard him chuckle in your ear, his lips connecting with the top of your head in a gentle kiss. "I still have so much to do, I'll never make it in time."

"Yes you will, I'll wait for you, you know I'm not leaving." He spun you around, his hands resting on your waist as he pulled you closer and hugged you tightly, one of those as you called them grizly bear hugs.

"Then help me pack?" You batted your eyelashes at him and made a pouty face, hoping it would work.

"Oh no, that's not fair, don't do that, you know I can't resis that face" He said and kissed your lips swiftly, his fingers tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Of course I'll help."

"Is anybody else coming with us?" You asked while folding your t-shirts, placing them neatly inside your suitcase.

"Oliver fucking Quick." Farleigh trailed off.

"What?" You quickly turned around to look at him, unsure if you heard that correctly. You obviously didn't like him, I mean Fekix though he was a very inspiring person but you and Farleigh? You didn't get the hype and always held him on his toes.

"Yeah, Felix invited him. I don't know why, something about him not wanting to go home because of his parents."

"Do Elspeth and James know that?" You asked, crossing your arms.

"Yes, apparently Elspeth is extremely excited to meet him. That'll be interesting." Farleigh closed one of your bags and placed it on his shoulder. "Damn, what do you have in here, rocks?"

"Very funny, no, all the vibrators you gave me." You said, laughing, seriousness washed over his face.

"Oh really?" He dropped the bag on the floor and grabbed your waist, hoisting your body up on his shoulder, his large hand smacking you on the ass. Your laugh echoed throughout the room, probably audible outside too, but that's how Farleigh always wanted you to be. Such beautiful laughter, it was like music to his ears, like daisies adorning a beautiful meadow. He gently put you down on the bed and laid on top of you, his thumb caressing your soft cheek.

"I love you." He whispered, a special kind of sparkle in his eyes, a smile plastered on his face.

"I love you too, Farleigh." His hot breath washed over your face, his lips slightly brushed yours before he kissed you gently, a moment of bliss before the big storm.

~ ° * ° ~

Summer at Saltburn? Always crazy and busy, but the busy part? Partying and laying out on the freshly cut grass or swimming in the pool. That was all you did there every summer. Not a bad life, you always thought to yourself, but sometimes it was nice to go back to reality and to a real life.You'd be lying if you said you didn't get used to this kind of life, the glamour, the dinner parties, dressing up,it was quite fun to a certain point. When it was too much, you and Farleigh packed your bags and left for a week or two, all alone, away from all of it. But to someone, this life was inviting them in more and more as each day passed.

And then the Cattons decided to throw Oliver a birthday party. 200 people? 300? You lost count. I mean if it's a party then it's a great idea, but for the entire night Farleigh had a very strange feeling about everything that night. He watched Oliver just skulk around almost every room in the house, people not paying too much attention to him. Most of them only knew him as "the birthday boy" but only a few of them knew his actual name. There was something strange about him, Farleigh always kept an eye on him.

...and he was right...

Around 11 am you felt someone shaking your body, trying to wake you up. You opened your eyes and saw Farleigh standing in front of you and you immediately knew something was wrong. His eyes were wide and his hands were shaking, his mannerisms completely different than how he usually is.

"What is it?" You asked and instantly sat up on the bed, fear in your eyes and in your voice, your heart suddenly picking up its pace, a sudden wave of ringing filling up your ears.

"Felix is missing." Farleigh trailed off.

"What?" You quickly got up and didn't even bother to put on shoes. You ran outisde and saw Venetia in the water, walking around, waving her hands underwater. You ran towards her with Farleigh, both of you joining her, hoping he's not in here and that he's fine. Then you heard a gut wrenching scream coming from the maze. You looked at Farleigh and instantly felt tears well up in your eyes. You shook your head and walked as quickly as possible to the edge, climbed and got up, the three of you running towards the maze.

You knew the maze like the back of your hand so it was easy to get to the center, but at that moment you wish that you could just get lost in there because what you all saw was something you would never be able to forget as it was buried inside you mind very deeply.

Felix was laying there on his stomach, golden wings still attached to his back. His body a pale colour, almost a hint of blue, his beautiful eyes now without that incredible spark that you got so used to seeing. His lifeless body was something you never thought you would have to see in your life nor did you want to but for some reason you couldn't look away.

Venetia, you and Farleigh fell to your knees, grasping onto one another, looking for comfort as tears just started coming out, the pain in your chest unlike anything you've ever experienced before. It was as if someone ripped out your heart, a huge hole right in the middle of your chest. Your ears started ringing and you felt like you were going to pass out. You suddenly felt like you weren't on this planet anymore, completely disoriented and if Farleigh and Venetia weren't grasping onto your body, you don't know how you would have dealt with this alone. You let out a loud scream, your chest convulsing from all the sobs that kept coming out of your body.

You don't know how or when you got up, left the maze and changed your clothes or when on earth did everybody gather for lunch, but there you were, sitting at the table with James, Elspeth, Venetia, Farleigh, oh and yes, of course, Oliver.

The curtains shut as the room plunged into darkness, making it look red like blood, not a hint of daylight. It somehow looked terrifying and gruesome, very unpleasant. You were sitting next to Farleigh, his face kind of emotionless as he kept staring at the table, not moving his gaze from the same spot. You reached out to him, grabbing his hand and squeezing it, making him snap out of his thoughts, a sob suddenly falling from his lips. On your left was an empty chair and an empty plate. Felix's spot and when you first walked in and saw it, you broke down again.

Suddenly there was a hint of a squeaking gurney on the outside, meaning they were passing the window with Felix's body and then there was a sound of doors closing. A tear rolled down your cheek as you closed your eyes, your hand suddenly slipping away from Farleigh's.

"Oh my God... May I be excused, please?" Farleigh whimpered and got up from the table, his cheeks stained with tears.

"No. We haven't finished lunch." James replied, not even looking at Farleigh.

"Lunch is cold. You want me just eat it like nothing is happening?"

"What else is there to do, darling?" Elspeth looked at him, sadness noticable in her eyes.

"Anything! Anything-" You looked at him as he screamed out, a whimper escaping your lips as tears started falling from your eyes again. The pain was unbearable and seeing Farleigh like that broke your heart and how everybody acted like nothing ever happened, like Farleigh was the only one who actually cared and the only one who saw how messed up it was that everybody was acting like this. James slammed his fists on the table, the plates clattering. You jumped, your body shook from fear, the sudden change in tone almost too much.

"Farleigh! Will you be quiet?! Sit down and eat the bloody pie! Just eat it! Eat it and shut up! Eat the bloody pie!"

Farleigh sat down and grabbed his fork, placing the pie in his mouth but unable to chew through the meat. Small pieces flew out of his mouth and onto the plate, a tear rolling down his cheek.

"You're not the only person here with feelings. None of us wants your bloody American feelings!" James trailed off and suddenly there was silence inside the room. You didn't even try to put anything in your mouth because you felt like you were going to throw up.

"I think it’s delicious." Oliver suddenly said, Farleigh snapping at him.

"What the fuck are you still doing here?" you look at Oliver and his expression and there was nothing on his face. Like he didn't care. You wiped away your tears and placed your hands in your lap.

"Wait, does no one else find it weird?.. No one else finds that weird?"

"Farleigh.." you whispered and placed your hand on top of his, your fingers grazing his in a comforting way.

"I wouldn’t throw stones if I was you, Farleigh." Oliver replied in a strict tone, a fork in his hand.

"Excuse me?"

"Please stop." Venetia sighed and said quietly.

"What is he saying?" James asked and looked at Oliver.

"I..I've no idea." Farleigh said, clearly confused what Oliver wanted to get with all of this.

"What I'm saying is that I'd feel guilty too."

"Guilty?"

"If I was the one racking up lines the night someone died."

"Fuck you." Farleigh stared back at him, cursing, only hate for Oliver in his body at that very moment.

"That's not a denial." Oliver replied as he leaned forward a little bit, his gaze moving between you and Farleigh.

"You took it too far, Oliver." You interrupted them, defending Farleigh.

"Is that true?" James asked, pale with fury. He looked towards Duncan signaling him to leave. "Search Farleigh's room."

"No." Farleigh crumpled into his chair and started sobbing. Now you were a little bit scared. Your eyes widened, not surely understanding what they were going to do about this situation. Seeing and hearing what was happening was making the situation even harder. You couldn't take your eyes off Farleigh and when you saw tears continuously welling up in his eyes, you couldn't help but start sobbing as well. Your heart was breaking.

"Get out." Sir James said angrily.

"Please, he didn't do anything.." You looked at Sir James, begging, trying to make him see that it really wasn't his fault and that he had nothing to do with all of this. Of course he didn't believe you, he didn't even acknowledge you.

"No, wait-" Farleigh whimpered and wiped away his tears with the sleeves of his jumper.

"What's happening?" Elspeth asked after wiping her mouth eith a linen cloth.

"Aunt Elspeth- Elspeth-" he said desperately but got interrupted by James.

"Don’t you dare look at her!"

Elspeth looked liked she was now ignoring Falreigh, not wanting to look at him at all. Could she ever look at him again after this? Who knows.

"Get out!"

Farleigh looked around the table, searching for somebody to look at him, to see they were making a mistake but no one looked at him except for you. Not even Oliver. He got up your hand slipped off, hanging next to your body. Your lip trembled at the sudden empty feeling, your head hung low as you kept staring at your fingers. Farleigh grabbed onto the chair, picking at the stitching.

"I won't mention this to the police. That's all you get. Nothing more. Ever again." James trailed off and that was the last thing you heard from him that night. Farleigh turned to the side and left the room, leaving you alone with the Cattons and Oliver. You wiped away your tears with the back of your hand.

"You didn't have to do this. It wasn't his fault." You snapped back at Oliver, his eyes quickly looking back at you. A hidden smirk adorned his face, a sinnister look in his eyes.

"You know he did it. He was racking up lines the whole night. Felix could've taken whatever Farleigh was using." Oliver replied, his plate now half empty. "Even when you two were fucking outside. It was like a freak show."

"Fuck you." You quickly got up and threw the linen clot on the table, your legs feeling like jello. "If you'll excuse me, I can't be in the room with someone who cares more about a fucking stranger than a member of this family."

You turned around on your heels and walked out of the room. The second you closed the doors, you let out the biggest sob, a long hallway making it echo throughout the house. You felt like you were falling apart from the inside out.

You stood outside Farleigh's room as you quietly knocked on the door, only a quiet sob audible. You silently opened the door and what you saw broke your heart completely. Farleigh was laying on the floor, his knees pulled towards his body, his arms wrapped around them as loud sobs fell from his lips.

You looked around his room and saw how big of a mess it was. Everything was scattered on the floor. His clothes, his books, all of his belongings on the floor. You bit your lip in hopes it would stop you from crying, but it didn't help.

You walked over to his sobbing figure and knelt down, your arms immediately wrapping around his body.

"Farleigh... baby.." you whispered, his body shaking.

"They think I killed him." He whispered through his cries, his tears soaking the carpet underneath him. "I didn't do it." His cries kept getting louder and it was harder for you to stay quiet because you couldn't stand him being like this, broken, like he didn't mean anything to anybody. Like it was all his fault. You wanted to fix everything and make it all okay for him because that's exactly what he deserved. He deserved better and to be treated right.

"No, Farleigh, you didn't do it. It's not your fault, please don't think that. You didn't kill Felix." You told him, your hands caressing his arms, comforting him, hoping it would help him even just a little bit.

"Now I feel like I did." He cried out, his face now buried in his hands.

"Hey, come here." You grabbed his arm and gently pulled him, moving his hands from his face. You intertwined your fingers with his and helped him sit up, his knees once more pulled towards his body. You wiped away his tears with your thumbs, gently caressing his cheeks before you cupped his face, making him look at you directly in your eyes.

"You didn't do it, why would you think that? Because of Oliver?" He just nooded and closed his eyes, a single tear rolling down his cheek. It felt like someone was sitting on your chest, the pressure and the pain in your heart from seeing Farleigh like this was unbearable.

"Fuck him, Farleigh. He's a nobody, a fucking leech and if I could get rid of him, I would. You're so much more than all of this. You deserve everything in this world and if they can't see it, fuck 'em." You trailed off, tears welling up in your eyes and your voice breaking every other word.

"Everybody is leaving me, pushing me away like I mean nothing." He sobbed and quickly got up as he started pacing around his room, his cries so loud that it seemed like he was fighting for air. You jumped up and stood there in place for a few seconds, somehow unable to move.

"Are you also going to leave me?" His voice cracked and right then he looked like a little kid. You dare to say that he looked absolutely defeated. "Please don't leave me."

A loud cry fell from your lips, his words hurting you, hurting how he thought that you would actually leave him after everything. You shook your head and practically ran towards him, your body smashing into his

You wrapped your arms around him tightly, your face buried in his chest as you sobbed quietly. His arms squeezed you, almost as if he was afraid if he held you lightly or if he let you go, you would somehow slip away.

"I will never leave you, Farleigh. I could never. You're a part of me and if I lose you, I'll lose myself. Please don't ever think that I would leave you." He kissed the top of your head, one hand still wrapped around your body while the other gently caressed your hair.

"Now let's get out of here. Okay?" You kissed him on the lips gently, his arms resting on your hips. You had to get out of this house, had to get away from Saltburn as soon as possible. The only good thing about all of this? Farleigh by your side.

"Okay."

#farleigh start #saltburn #farleigh start x reader #saltburn x reader #farleigh start smut #saltburn smut

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