#you dont event have to use throat

[dorkacademia]

just saw a post saying sucking dick is terrible no fun... girl its the best thing keeps your mouth and hands moving (perfect for adhd) ... you can put food on there if ur hungry #whippedcream....

[m00nchildwrites]

Forever, You and Me: Rafayel x MC/Reader Smut

This is a one shot, smut drabble inspired by @jinwoosbabyboo 's answer post describing how the LADS men would react to you storming of and not responding to theirs calls and texts after a bad fight. Her writing is flipping amazing. ISTF I devour everything she writes. 

I was intending to just repost her post with a little response of how I think Rafayel would cope with such an event, and it just... took off and swept me anyway, and well... apparently it's angsty feels and thirsty hours and I blame @jinwoosbabyboo completely for this because her writing always getting my imagination going! So responding to her with my extra thoughts about Rafayel became a one shot, smutty drabble spilled out.  

So here is her post that inspired the one-shot below, so you can read the Rafayel part that got this whole thing going and also, please go read her sections about Xavier, Zayne, and Sylus because you will be missing out if you don't. Seriously, go now.: https://www.tumblr.com/jinwoosbabyboo/763177878569549824/dont-run-off-like-that?source=share 

18+. MDNI! 

TW: angst, cursing, self-depreciation, depression, mention of death or wanting to die, ya boy gets dark and big big sad, hurt/comfort, they def kiss and make up, SMUT, what is foreplay? They just want to bone, couple's first time together, detailed sex depicted, fucking, use of the word fuck a lot, dirty talk, usage of "babygirl", possessive Rafayel (in bed), unprotected sex, mating press, squirting, overstimulation, cum, my own Lemurian bond headcanon, Rafayel has a filthy mouth and MC loves it, cum/breeding kink if you squint. 

*clears throat* 

Enjoy. 

~~~~~~ 

Forever, You and Me 

[ @jinwoosbabyboo prompt: 

You told the LADS Men to not piss you off and what did they do? Pissed you off. How I imagine they would react to you storming off in tears and you're not answering their calls or texts.] 

The moment you spun on your heel and fled his home Rafayel was after you. The angry and uncharacteristic yell of frustration you had given out before doing so, after he failed to back off during your disagreement, turned argument, turned first real fight made his stomach drop and curl in the worst way. Your voice played in his head as he ran out his door and down to the street in front of his house after you. 

Stop! Just... please stop a moment. I hate that we are yelling. This isn't us. This isn't you. This isn't me. Just- Give me a second to breathe for fuck's sake, Rafayel, please! 

His words rang in his head too.  

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

He never expected you to actually do it. But he had watched as your eyes widened in shock and hurt, and then narrowed. Then you were gone. 

He ran, flinging open the metal gate and stepping onto the sidewalk, eyes desperate, searching for your retreating figure. He had to find you. Apologize. He knew he could be intense sometimes, dramatic occasionally, and that he could push your buttons just to see if you'd leave him. Leave him like the you of your past life had done. Like you had always done. 

But he was a fool. 

That you wasn't this you. That you was dead and gone. And you, you were the same but so different. You were everything and he had gone and fucked it up. Again. 

His head whipped around frantic. Spirits of his ancestors, did you sprint!?!  The pit in his gut swelled and grew. He couldn't see you anywhere. He yanked out his phone dialing your number as he started jogging off down the sidewalk. You couldn't have gotten far. Right? 

The call went to voicemail. He stopped staring blankly at it. You didn't answer. Maybe... Maybe you couldn't get it in time, yeah. That was it. He breaks out into a jog again, and again rings your number. He would find you. Maybe you were at the bus stop? He pushed his legs faster as the voicemail picked up again. 

You weren't at the bus stop. It had just left. Spitting out a stream of curses that made a little old lady whack him with her bag, Rafayel dialed a different number. He pressed the phone to his ear, "Thomas, I need a car.... no, I'm not at home. I am headed to Linkon City. On foot. Thomas, please no more questions, just have the car find me! This is urgent!" 

When the car-Thomas- found him, he was halfway to Linkon, sweating, sticky, gross, and stressed. He sent out a stream of texts asking you where you had gone, why you weren't answering, that he was sorry, begging you to come back, to answer, to curse him, anything. But they all went unanswered. 

As he went to all your known haunts and favorite places, from your work to the grocery store near your place to your apartment where he ran into an unimpressed blonde Hunter partner of yours that looked perpetually in need of a nap and who refused to buzz him into the building, Rafayel's mental and emotional state continued to spiral. His emotions went from apologetic to concern to flat out fear for your safety. Which he had made clear to that blonde partner of yours... he very nearly throttled the ass. Why did he not see how urgent this was? His words had struck Rafayel and made his stomach turn sour. 

"If MC was in danger, I'd be the first to know, after all, I'm her partner." 

His world felt off kilter. Would the blonde be the first to know? Surely not. Surely, it would be him, Rafayel. Your boyfriend of the past few months. You were soulmates. You came together lifetime after lifetime. He always found you. Always could hunt you down. Always. 

Except now. Except this time. Where had you gone? 

If you don't want to hear the sound of my voice anymore, if you don't want to be with me anymore, then why don't you just leave. You always end up leaving anyway. 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

He visibly flinched. He was a fucking idiot. He turned his head to stare blindly out the window, avoiding Thomas' gaze in the rear view mirror. His assistant had given up trying to get answers from him. Instead, he watched in with worry all over his face.  

Rafayel was soaked. It had begun to rain. It was quicky becoming night. He had been calling, texting, and searching for you for hours. He had ran himself to the point of near exhaustion, and nearly gotten the cops called on him at her work when he kept asking Hunter's outside if they had seen you. How embarrassing. For you, not him. He couldn't give a damn as long as he found you, but you... you clearly didn’t want him to find you. 

You were gone. He had told you to leave if you didn't want him and you had gone. 

He felt numb as the car stopped at last in front of his gate. The car hesitated, Thomas no doubt watching him in concern as he drug his feet passed his gate. Rafayel didn't care. He had pushed you away. Lost you. And it was all his fault. And for what? 

The argument had been so stupid. He walked in, not bothering to shut the door. Clothes dripping, leaving pools on the floor as he walked through his home. He passed the dining room that still had your wine glasses and the open bottle and desserts out. He grabbed the open bottle as he moved deeper into the house.  

He kicked off his shoes, leaving a trail headed to his living room. The flowers he had bought you sat on a vase on the coffee table. He stared it down as he plopped, wet, onto his couch. How had such a good night turned so sour? Why did he have to push at your buttons sometimes? Was it just to see? Just to see if you'd leave him? 

You always end up leaving anyway. 

His stomach felt sick. He chugged from the open bottle. Why would he do that? You didn't deserve it. Was he that fucked up from his past that he had to take it out on you? Why couldn't he let go of what had happened in your lives before this one? You were not like him. You didn't remember everything. No wonder you left. 

He tsked, and not for the first time, wondered if your "curse" to not remember your past lives was really a curse at all. After all, if he couldn't remember, then he wouldn't treat you as though you were going to leave at any moment. Because you had never given him any indication that you planned to. 

The past few months of your relationship, that you two were "official", had been perfection. Sure, you had little spat and sometimes would snap at each other, but there had been so much love. He swallowed a lump in his throat. Love. 

He had not even gotten the chance to tell you. 

He had been waiting- waiting for the perfect moment. He was going to tell you tonight. It was why he had gone the extra step to make lunch that much more romantic. It was why a meat and cheese board and fresh fruit were waiting in his fridge for later that night. He hadn't planned on either of you leaving until morning, if then. It was the reason for the flowers before him, the flower petals in the no doubt cold tub upstairs, the petals spread across his bed. Tonight was going to be the night. The one where he told you that you were the love of his life, of all of his lives. He was going to explain what that meant to a Lemurian- how binding and forever that was. And should you accept, he had planned to ask you to- 

He winced, eyes squeezing shut as his chest flared in pain. In protest. His hand not holding the bottle, now empty, clutched at his chest. A hiss of pain. The pain passed. Rafeyel dropped the bottle onto the coffee table before his eyes landed on the vase. He knocked the flowers over, sending the vase off the other side of the coffee table, glass shattering and water spilling with flowers and petals across the floor. 

It didn't matter what he was going to ask you. You were gone. His eyes blurred, hot, as tears formed on his lashes. He pulled his knees up to his chest. His shoulders shook.  

You were gone. 

~~~~~ 

Your feet tripped as you hurried down the sidewalk, dodging puddles as you went. You did not mean for time to get away from you. When you ran out of Rafayel's earlier, you had only meant to get some fresh air for a short while as you calmed down. You both had ended up yelling earlier and it had felt so wrong. Wrong because it wasn't like either of you.  

Yes, you had had disagreements. Rafayel hated when you put yourself in unnecessary danger, though he respected you and your skills at work, even you had to admit that he wasn't wrong when he said you took risks. You didn't mean to. It never was your plan, but something went down and you just sprang into action. He had been right, you had partner's in the association for a reason. But it was the way he had said it today, like you were doing it on purpose just to spite him. As though you enjoyed stressing him and making him worry, it had just set you off. You had told him off, and things had spiraled. 

And for what? He wasn't even wrong. It just rankled your feathers today because of something some dumb Jock head at work had said about women Hunter's needing to be paired with a male Hunter since they were the weaker sex. The dude was written up on the spot; the idiot had said it in front of everyone including your very female boss- moron. But still, you hated being looked down on.  

And so, you had taken out that frustration on Rafayel. On your sweet, silly, bratty, but absolutely adoring Rafayel. You had seen how your words had hurt him. When you had said that you didn't need him or any man worrying or looking after you. You had seen the flinch as though you had slapped him as you flung his worry and concern back into his face as though it revolted you. 

You had hurt him. And then realized that you both were yelling, and it was all just too much. You felt like you couldn't breathe. It hadn't felt like you. Like him. So, when you asked for a moment to allow your mind to settle and clear so you could think rationally and he just kept on, you snapped. He offered you an out, and you took it the offer and walked out. 

You walked out knowing his fear of abandonment. You knew and still walked out without looking back. You walked and walked along the shore. Then it started to rain, and you had to find shelter. And to top it off, you hadn't realized your phone was dead until you were stuck miles down the beach, in the rain, hiding out under a pier, and realized you had to now walk all the way back. Why had you gone to the beach instead of your home? 

You sighed, spotting Rafayel's house in the distance at last. Of course. Of course, you knew why. Because the beach reminded you of your Lemurian, your Rafayel. Even when you were mad at him, you longed for him. Sought out his essence for comfort. Gods, you loved him so much. So much and you never said it out loud yet. You had to tell him. 

You picked up the pace and jogging up to his gate. Nearing his door, you saw it open, but thought nothing of it. Rafayel often left it open for you or from distraction as a bolt of inspiration hit him. The house looked dark from the entryway. You called out his name as you toed off your sandy shoes and socks. 

You gasped as you stepped and nearly slipped in a large, cold puddle. A trail of puddles large and smaller led inside. You tucked a damp strand of hair behind your ear, and cautiously made your way inside. 

"Rafayel? Are you home?" "Rafayel?" "Ugh, why is it so dark in here? Stupid dead phone. I need a light." 

You stumbled into the dining room and followed the wall to the kitchen. You flicked a switch and squinted at the sudden change in brightness. His whole studio was empty and dark. The light from the kitchen spilling out into his painting area across the large room and into the living room area. 

Your eyes squinted, focusing. There was a lump on the couch. "Rafayel?" You near him and see the wine bottle on the coffee table nearby and broken glass and flowers scattered around. You step carefully to not get a shard of glass in your foot as you move around the room to him. 

"Rafayel? I'm sorry it's late. I didn't mean to be gone for so long, but I went further than I meant to and then my phone died..." You trailed off as he came fully into view. He sat on his couch, cheeks wet with tears, clutching his chest. 

You understood all at once why he grabbed that spot, and your heart lurches and drops. You kneeled next to him carefully, "Rafayel?" 

When you call out to him, he let out a choked sob of a tortured laugh.  

You lean, moving to place your face into his line of sight. He sits frozen, staring daze out of open windows. "Rafe?" 

His voice sounded hollow, "Go away." You heart dropped until his voice continues, "You are a specter. MC is gone. She left. Left me." His voice cracked, more tears spill over his lash line to trail down porcelain cheeks. His voice a near whisper, "I've lost you. I love you. I love you more than my homeland, my people. More than my very life. I have loved you through countless lifetimes and will through countless more." He clenched his eyes as he clenched his chest, "I love you enough to let you go if that's what you wish. I'd give it all for you. My last breath. So, please, leave. Don't haunt my mind like you've haunted my heart these last 800 years. You're gone. At last, you've chosen and it isn't me. Leave me to my heartbreak in peace. Leave me to fade into seafoam at last." 

A sob hiccupped past your lips. How could you have hurt him so? This beautiful man with such a beautiful heart and soul. You reached out to brush your fingers across his cheeks, fingers combing into lavender curls as you cup his cheeks, begging, imploring him to see you.  

His eyes shut, agony on his face. 

"I am here, Rafayel. I'm real." 

A choked sob fell from his lips. 

"Look at me." 

A shake of his head. If he does, you'll disappear. Slip through his fingers like mist. He wants to stay in his illusion just a while longer. Hear your voice just a while longer before he has to spend eternity without you, or at least, eternity until he fades away back into sea foam like so many of his people before. 

"Rafayel, my love, please look at me." 

Violet eyes opened, hesitant and sorrowful. 

You smiled, soft, full of love, thumbs wiping stray tears. "I am here. I'm sorry I got so mad earlier. It wasn't even about you; It was a long shitty day, and that's no excuse. You didn't deserve for me to react like that to what you were saying. And I'm sorry I ran. I hated that I was so upset and I couldn’t calm down, so I just need to step away, but- I hurt you. I hurt you so badly, and I never ever meant to. That's the last thing I want because I-" Your voice cracked, a lump of emotion in your throat. Your eyes fell, ashamed. "I just- gods, Rafayel, I love you so much it makes me feel crazy sometimes. I- I'm sorry this is not how I imagined telling you this." You started to pull away. 

Large, long fingered hands gripped your shoulders. "Say it again." 

You blinked, confused by the urgency in his voice as he searched your face. 

"Please. Please say it again or I will be convinced I imagined it." 

You studied his eyes. Firmly in his grip, your brows furrowed until it clicked. Your tension left you. Your hands rose once more to cup his face. A soft smile spread across yours as his cheeks pinken under your touch. "I love you, Rafayel. With all my hea-" 

You were jerked forward into his chest. His lips crashed onto yours. His hands were desperate as they clung to your back, crushing you closer, impossibly closer, as though he needed your very beings to blur into one. His tongue swiped at your lips, hot and wet, begging entry. Demanding it. 

You gasped from the intensity of his kiss. His passion poured forth like an unending wall of water bursting from a dam. His tongue danced along yours, caressing, tasting. Hungry and needy. Warm velvet and tasting of the wine you both had been drinking before your argument hours before. 

Your hands found his shoulders, trying to ground yourself or be swept away. You accidentally slipped out a sound. A needy sound of passion. His answering moan as he angled his head to kiss you deeper made a pleasant shiver run down your spine to pool between your legs. 

In a flash, his hands gripped your thighs, tugging you into his lap as he stood. 

You broke the kiss with a gasp, hands scrambling to hold on. Arms wrapping around his neck as his head ducked, his lips covering your neck in messy, hot, open mouthed kisses. 

"Wh-what? Where are you taking me?" 

His voice was a husky grumble from somewhere deep in his chest, as he licked and nipped at your throat. "I'm taking you to bed, my Heart." 

Next thing you knew, your back was falling onto cream silken sheets.  

He stood between your parted knees hanging over the edge of the bed. His violet eyes raked over your face hungrily. His lips were parted, chest rising and falling as he panted for breath. He didn't move, tongue peaking out to wet his lips. He was breathtaking. He was passion personified, hair mussed from your fingers, lips damp and red swollen from your kisses.  

His voice and the look in his eyes made your insides clench as he reached out, hand on your knee, thumb brushing the inside just so, "If you want me to stop... if you dont want this or..." his thumb stopped, he face flinched, eye closing briefly as though from pain, before opening to peer into your eyes. "If you are unsure of this, of us, of me, tell me now, because once we do this, once we... you will be mine, and I will be yours. It can't be undone. For Lemurians, this is for life, for all time. A soul bond. It's more than any mortal human tradition. More than marriage. It's unbreakable, unending, forever you'd be mine and I'd be yours. If you are unsure-" 

You sat up, going onto your knees atop the bed before him. Your palms rested on his shoulders, "Rafayel..." your hands slid down to his chest. "I- " Your hand stopped at the place on his chest were your mark laid, though the red fish wasn't visible now. Your eyes flicked to his, "I want this." Your hands were on the move again smoothing lower down his chest. "I want this bond. I-" Your hands found the bottom of his shirt, fingertips dancing along the hem before slipping under.  

He gasped, stomach muscles clenching beneath your touch as your hands found his taunt skin beneath.  

"I want forever. I want you." Your hands trailed up the plains of his chest, bringing his shirt with you. Until at last, you griped it in your hands, eyes meeting his in askance.  

His lashes fluttered, eyes falling half-mast. He was breathtaking. His arms rose, allowing you to lift the shirt from his body before flinging the offending material away. 

Your hands fell back to his shoulders, one sliding to cup his neck as you rose to meet him, chest pressing to his. His gaze turned molten, lust heavy and full of love as he looked over your face. His hands came to rest, just so at your waist, still hesitant but hopeful.  

Resolved, you pushed away your nerves, pulling his head down. Breath mingling with his, you gave him what he wanted. What he needed, "I love you. I chose you, Rafayel. Forever and always. Forever, you and me." 

His lips crashed into yours like waves upon a storm wall. He laid you down in a sea of silk and white rose petals.  

You snatched one, lifting it between you with a raise eyebrow.  

He flushed beautifully, "I had plans for us tonight." 

You dropped the petal, fingers weaving through his silken waves. "Show me." 

Clothes flew to land forgotten on the floor. Breaths panted; needy sounds filled the air, carried away through the open balcony windows and out to the sea. His hands and lips mapped you like you were a precious treasure. His lips and tongue worshipped you, swiping the salt from your skin. His breath was hot in your ear as he- at last- slotted his hips between your parted thighs.  

"My Heart, my Queen, my love," fell from his lips like a mantra.  

You felt him there, this mushroomed tip parting your lower lips, dragging the pooled wetness and spreading it. You gasped, nails digging into his shoulders. 

He groaned, head falling to nuzzle your neck. Still, he froze, going no further. He panted, asking, "Are you sure?" 

You cupped his face, dragging his eyes up to yours, "Rafayel, I have never been more sure of anything in my life. Take me. I am yours." You ran your fingers along his cheek, repeating his words from before, "A soul bond. unbreakable, unending, forever. This is what I chose. It's you, Rafayel. It's always been you." You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, causing his hips to drop. You gasped. His tip slipped into your molten heat just so. 

His head fell back, long pale neck exposed. He bit his lip. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. When his gaze fell back to you, his eyes were dark, like the ocean in a storm.  

Your walls clenched.  

His eyes squeezed shut, a moan falling from his lips, a curse followed. His gaze, heavy and passionate, were back on yours, his arms shaking, "So be it. My Heart, my Queen, my love," his mouth would curl slightly into a playful smirk, "my bride." His hips snapped forward, his full hard length pushing into your gummy walls to full hilt, his pelvis slapping hard into your fleshy cheeks. You could feel him, his tip kissing your cervix. A moan fell from your lips; a hiss of pleasure from his. He stilled buried fully inside you, muscles trembling with the strain. His jaw clenched as he fought for control, "Fuck, love, you feel so good." 

Your hands scrambled for purchase on his shoulders, as he rocked his hips dragging almost all the way out only to snap his hips back, slamming back in. Your nail dug into his back. A babble of praise fell from your lips, "So good. So good, Rafayel. So full." 

He groaned head dropping to your collarbone, "Fuck, love, I can feel you sucking me in." He hissed, "so tight. Like you were made just for me, yeah?" His hips pulled back, dragging his length along your walls until just the tip remained. He leaned up, brushing your hair from your face to cradle your head in one hand, the other braced him on the bed near your head. "Look at me. I want to watch you as I make you mine." 

When your eyes fund his, his face softened a moment. His eyes sweeping over your face in awe before meeting and holding your gaze, he whispered a breathy, "I love you." His eyes darkened with heat again, and he snapped his hips to crash back into yours. He swallowed your answering moan with a bruising kiss, drinking you in, as his hip set a brutal rhythm.  

You clung to him, hips eagerly tilting and undulating to meet his as he pounded you into the sheets. The headboard slammed repeatedly into the wall. You shifted up slightly each powerful thrust. His hands grabbed yours bringing them to wrap around his shoulders, "Brace yourself against me, my love. Fuck! I'm going to ruin you. Ruin you for all others! MC, you are perfect. And you are mine." He melded his lips to yours, tongue moving along yours gently and loving. A sharp contrast to how he was fucking you into his bed. His thrusts were hard and deep, rolling into you like waves. The sound of slapping skin filled the air.  

You gasped, moaned, pleaded as he made your head spin with pleasure, "Yes! Yes, Rafayel! I am yours! Make me yours!" 

The sound that rumbled from his chest was a near growl as he leaned up to grip the headboard with one hand for leverage, his hips doubled in speed. His abs rolled as he kept one hand braced above your shoulder, locking you in place as he repeatedly slammed his cock as deep into as he could get. 

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you clung to his arms. Your legs went limp around his waist as pleasure boiled inside you, hot and heavy. Your head thrashed from side to side from the intensity of the waves of sharp pleasure swelling inside you. Your walls began fluttering, clenching, wrapping at his hard length as he pummeled your insides. His tip kissed your cervix with each thrust, giving a burst of the slightest pain-pleasure. You could feel the wetness of you gushing out passed his shaft as it pounded in and out of your tight channel, every ridge of him dragging along your walls in the best way. You were not going to last long. No one, not even yourself had ever gotten you this wet and close to orgasm as Rafayel was doing. It was as though he knew exactly how to make your body sing for him. 

He shifted. The angle changed and you gasped, clinging, clawing, nails digging as his tip bullied into your g-spot with every snap of his hips.  

"Fu-fuck baby!" You wailed, "God's, Rafayel, right there, baby. Please don't stop. Don't stop!" 

His response was a snarl in your ear as his hips snapped into that spot in double time. "Never. I'll never stop. Never stop making love to you, my love. My bride." He kissed you deeply as your walls started spasming. Your climax was close. A hand of his dropped from your neck to slip between you to where you are joined. His fingertips finding the pearl above where he slides into you. The pad of his finger swirling, circling and pressing your clit just right. 

You moaned, head thrown back, "Yess!" 

He covered your neck in love marks, branding you as his. His lips moved to your ear, nipping at the skin right below it, "Are you gonna come for me, my love? Are you gonna come all over my cock like a good girl. Be good bride, hm, come for me," his voice was pure sin in your ear. 

You could only whimper and cling to him, desperate.  

"Answer me. Tell me who you belong to. Say it. I want the people down the beach to hear you scream it. To hear whose cock makes you feel this good. Say it. Say who you belong to." 

You sputtered and gasped out sobs, in capable of words as you race towards your end. 

He took your hips in his hands. He leaned back on his knees. He rose your hips off the bed. His hips slamming into you, hard and fast- almost inhumanly so. The plop, plop, plop of his sack as it slaps against the sticky mess of your cheeks filled the room. He groaned, "Fuck, baby. You feel so good for me. I fucking love you, MC. Fuck, I love you." 

The coil within you snapped and pulses of white hot heat sent tremors, shockwave through your body as your core clamped down on his shaft. Your head fell back as you screamed out his name in the height of your passion, in reverence, "Rafayel!" You sobbed. Actual tears escaped as the white hot waves of orgasm mixed with love for him kept coming.  

His hips never stopped slamming his hard cock into you, bruising your g-spot and cervix. It was heaven. It was bliss. It was so much. It was almost too much. You tensed nearly about to say stop when a sensation you had never felt before hit you like a brick. Your core tightened, abs clenching, your very womb felt like it clenched, your walls clamped tight down around him, almost stopping his movement completely. Then the spasms, ripples of pleasure pulsed from your womb down your walls, massaging, milking, clenching his shaft inside you. You vaguely hear him hiss and a debauched, "Fuck," escape his lips. And  then you feel a gush of warm liquid splash out of you and all over his dick and pelvis. 

Rafayel's violet gaze widened, his grip tightening almost painfully into the fleshy meat of your hips as he held you against him. His head fell back and he moaned, fully wrecked. "Fuck! Babygirl, you just squirted for me." 

Your core clenched at his words even as high sensitivity began to creep in, but he felt so good. So good and hard inside you. You could tell he wasn't too far off. Just the thought of it turned you back on. You desperately wanted to see him lose himself to orgasm. And he was so fucking beautiful as he began rolling his hips into yours again. 

You must've said that last part out loud, because he looked back down at you, lip caught between his teeth before he released it, plump and full. You wanted to bite it. A smirk was on his face, "Yeah? Is that so, babygirl?" His eyes darkened as his hips picked up speed, rolling more into you, faster as he spoke, "You know what's beautiful? You. You splayed out on my bed, looking fucked out, covered in your cum, face flushed as I. Fuck. You." He punctuated his words with a hard thrust, fingers digging into your hips deliciously. 

You gasped, walls clenching again as he steadily fucked you into another crest. His face fell into a grimace, as your walls, overstimulated into another quickly growing orgasm, clenched and released and clenched his shaft as he began to thrust into you with wild abandon, "Fuck, babygirl, I can feel you clenching me, yeah? You love the feel of this dick pounding you, don't you? So. Fucking. Beautiful. And. All. Mine." 

His mouth was filthy. Filthy and hot. You had never heard Rafayel speak in such a way. Rafayel who was often bashful and blushing when your flirting. Rafayel who tended to be a pouty needy boy that made your heart melt. This Rafayel was just as needy. But in a way you had never seen him before, as he panted your name from his lips like a mantra. His gorgeous head tossed back, neck exposed, abs clenching and rolling his hips as he slammed into you, face flushed and skin covered in a sheen of sweat. He was breathtaking. He was yours. You wanted him to come, and come for you now. 

Your hands scrambled to the headboard above you, bracing against it in determination. You started to roll your hips into his, meeting each powerful thrust with as much force as he was giving you. You were gonna come again but this time, this time, you were taking him with you. 

He gasped, fingers digging into your fleshy hips. His eyes snapped down to you, seeing the heat in your eyes as they raked over his body, your lip caught between your teeth. He groaned at the sight and at the feel of your hips moving in rhythm with his. "F-fuck, my love, I'm gonna come. Where do you- where should I-?" His voice is completely fucked out. Almost drunk. 

You tugged his arm and he fell back over you, compliant to your every whim, your knees swept up to rest over his arms as he braced himself with them framing your waist. Your legs were trapped pressed up and apart, unable to move as freely, to roll as deeply with your knees hooked over his forearms like this. But oh. You saw stars and he moaned in your ear. At this angle, with you opened wide, it felt like he went deeper. You both gasped out moans. Your lips brushed his ear as you told him your deepest want right then, "Inside. I want you inside me. Please, Rafayel. I want to feel all of you. Fill me up." 

He groaned, a pained sound before driving into you in earnest, "I am gonna come. I cant- I can't hold on much more." 

Your walls fluttered at the needy sound of his voice. Your Rafayel. Your beautiful Rafayel. He was so like the ocean, so many faucets to his personality. He could be calm loving one moment then demanding and passionate and then needy the next. You loved him. You loved all of him and he was all yours. 

"I'm coming too, baby. Let go" you implored him, "I want it. I am yours and you are mine. Forever. I want all of you. Give it to me." 

With a few more slams of his cock into your depths, you felt the moment he lost control of it. His forehead pressed to yours, noses brushing, as he let out a long moan of pleasure mixed with your name. His shaft pulsed as rope after rope of hot cum filled your womb. His blissed out face, the grind of his pelvis into your clit, the twitching of his cock as he came inside, and the warmth that flooded your inner most parts triggered your orgasm. 

"F-fuck!" He hissed out, blissfully as your walls milked him further. His thrust slowed until it was just a slow drag. His breath, panted by your ear. He peppered your neck and shoulder with kisses, before pulling back to press his lips lovingly against yours. When he pulled away, you noticed his eyes were nearly glowing blue as the Mediterranean sea, a spackling of blue iridescent scales freckled down his throat to his chest.  

Your fingertips followed the trail as his hips finally rested, fully seat against yours, spent, but refusing to leave your warmth. You could feel the hot mix of both of your fluids spilling out around where his now soft member still rested within your walls. Your eyes flicked up to his, watching you full of love. Your gut twisted in guilt, remembering what got you here. "I am sorry I ran out. I was so angry. I so angry, and it hurt to be so angry at you. I felt overwhelmed. I just... I needed space. To breathe. To calm down so I could think." 

He tutted, fingers combing some of your messy hair from your face. "Hush now, my bride. It is okay now. You came back to me. We are together. We are one now. That is all that matters." His eyes trailed your face before a sheepish look fell over his expression, "Besides, it was my fault you got overwhelmed. I kept pushing and pushing even when you said you needed to think. I was terrified that I was losing you so I couldn't bring myself to give you a moment." His eyes met yours, "I am sorry." 

You hummed, "Still I shouldn't have ran from you. I know about our pasts and I know that me leaving is something you fear. It was cruel of me," your heart lunched at the flicker of pain in his gaze. 

"Very well, though, I must admit I feel guilty for making you feel like what happened in those past lives is your responsibility. They both were and were not you. That's not your burden to carry." 

It was your turn to tsk, "I love you. Your burdens are my burdens. It's you and me, forever, Rafayel. You don't have to carry everything alone. Not anymore. Never again." 

His eyes went soft, as he dipped his head to press a kiss to your lips, "Whatever you say, my bride." 

You nuzzled into his palm cupping your cheek, "I do say. How about we both agree we are both idiots in love and leave it at that?" 

His chuckling at that shook you slightly. As your bodies were still pressed together, it shifted his shaft slightly inside of you. You realized that it was not all that soft anymore, and that he never left your heat. Your breath caught in your throat. Your walls fluttered around him. 

He hissed, head snapping up to meet your gaze. His eyes mischievous, "You want more of your Fishy husband, hm?" His hips gently pulsed, in and out of your heat slowly, testing the waters, a smirk stretching his mouth as you gasped from pleasure. 

Your eyes widen at his words. He had been calling you his bride. And now calling himself your husband. 

Seeing your look, he stilled and became worried, brows furrowing slightly. A blush spread across his cheeks and down his chest as his face becomes more pouty than the heat it held before, "I did say that to Lemurians this was essentially more binding than any silly human marriage." 

"You didn't say it quite like that!" You reeled dazed, your mind racing. 

His face crumpled before he smoothed his expression to one of more indifference. He plucked a shoulder in a shrug and rolled off of you, making you hiss as he slid out of you for the first time since you joined. 

He flopped onto his back a short distance away, "I apologize. I guess I should've been more clear. It's okay though. You won't feel the effects. We can pretend we didn't-" he gasped as you appeared over him and on him, having thrown your leg over his hip. You pressed him to the bed with a hand to his chest, your legs caging his hips between your thighs. "Nnngh," he groaned as you lowered your hips to sit over his pelvis, his once again harden length pressed between your nether lips, soaked in both of your juices from before. He had to fight not to roll his hips up into you, but settled for gripping your hips firmly. 

You sighed, hands moving, fingers dancing across the pale skin of his chest, from freckle to scale. "I never said I didn't want it." 

He stilled, eyes studying you intently. Holding his breath even. 

"I do want it. Want you. I told you, Rafayel, it's you and me. Forever." 

His grip lightened. His thumbs brushed tenderly across your skin. 

Your eyes sought out his, warm and tender. "So, husband," you grinned as his breath caught in his throat. "How do Lemurians enjoy their honeymoon?" You swiveled your hips to drag your wet heat along his now very hard again shaft. 

He gripped your hips, smirk nearly feral, "Let me show you, my Bride." 

[lady-ashfade]

A Son For A Son

´*: ･ﾟ⋆˒ Deamons Bastard!Reader x Yan!Team black. Pt.2

╰･ﾟ✧☽ first fic here.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ summary: the queen has given a order, and craving revenge you expect.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ words: 1k

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: blood & gore, murder and death, reader killing, reader being her father, uncanon events, poison, I just needed to make this.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ DONT READ IF YOU WANNA BE SPOILED: reader does in fact kill aemond in this and idk if you are happy about it, I want his head to take to my queen.

“I want Aemond Targaryen.” she stood before the council covered in dirt and who knows what.

It had been two weeks since the letter about the death of Lucaerys had arrived and you all had been the worst for it. and ever since she searched and searched for a sign of truth, desperate to be wrong. that her sweet boy was alive. you knew he was dead and you wanted everyone to pay for taking luke. you wanted aemond targaryen to pay. you took anger out on the ones you could, or roamed the sky’s to get your mind off of things. you would not act without her orders.

The resemblance you shared to daemon was close and terrifying for your foes. just as you had the idea to fulfill her wishes, your father did too.

“I don’t know what you’re planning,” the sound of your voice made his shoulders fall and a smirk appear on his face, one you couldn’t see. a dark cloak draped over his shoulders and matched the same one across your frame. “but I have a better one.”

“No.” you glare at the back of his head. again denied something worth your talents.

“You can’t tell me what do to this time father.” standing your ground as his eyes turn around, a look he uses when he’s serious. and for him it was like looking into a mirror, you carved blood just like he did and loved getting to spill it. even for no reason at all.

“I have waited around for a task, and she has said she wants Aemond. I mourn the loss of my brother too, and you can not keep me from whatever it is that you think you’re protecting me from.”

Hundreds of men died at the end of your blade at night as you slip throughout the shadows. you were a slayer, a assassin who followed your own roles but loved coin and the game. a story to tell children to make them weep and fear the dark. so how could he still think you are not ready.

“I have let you do what you needed, patrol the blockade against my wishes. or fly alone when our enemies wait to make us weaker” he lectures, “and I will not let them take you.” for a moment you saw a regular father begging for his daughter to stay safe. you aren’t just a daughter now but a soldier in war.

“I would never let them take me,” you step closer and give him a smug look, “I am your daughter after all.”

Instead of going himself, daemon sends you, for the head of the copycat prince.

the castle gates are easy to slip passed with the help of a guard who shares your hatred for the hightowers. and many times, you slip into the keep without getting caught.

“Something told me you’d be here,” his eye glanced at you amused from the cough as his fingertips spin a coin. “It’s as if the gods made me stay here.” aemond unfolded his legs and leaned forward on his knees. many years you hated the way he spoke to you like a interest of his to be claimed like his bitch dragon.

“Then the gods agree you’ll die tonight.”

aemond waited for this moment to finally fight you. he wanted to win and keep you forever as a trophy, a wife who was like him and everyone feared without a doubt. he wasn’t a fool, you are a skilled killer and he needed to bring his all. and some skills stayed in the dark.

a slice in his chest, in his leg and cheek aren’t as bad as he thought when he had you pinned down onto the table. the cold feeling of metal as his hands wrapped around your throat was refreshing. you didn’t try and fight back as he took your breath because the fight was won as soon as it started.

And he should have known you couldn’t be this sloppy.

curling lips up into a devil’s smirk, looking into his eye he feels himself weakened and his grip loosen. the power of letting a man win and wiping all power from beneath their feet was riveting and a hobby. Aemond leaned back and placed his weight onto the couch while trying to keep composure. “You honestly think i wouldn’t have a plan? Make my own rules?” you raise a brow and rub the sore skin of your neck, inching closer while standing up yourself.

“Silent reaper is the name they whisper about me, come in quickly without notice. I always kill my enemies without them awake, but you,” you point and lean down as his eyes become bloodshot, “I want to feel the most pain. And I will enjoy it.” within a few minutes his body starts to leak its own blood. he was quickly taken to death of course, you couldn’t hear his pleads but you’ll satisfy with his death.

guards fall silent when they watch you walk through the halls they don’t even announce your name. white locks lace your fingers and the weight of his head was little and you look like your father with the proud eyes of what you did. the sounds of your footsteps cause the council to glance over but stay with shock. non of them expected to see that and much less out of no where. though, your father seemed pleased and chuckled at the sight.

“The head of Prince Aemond Targaryen, your Grace.” Walking past Jace you set the bloody head on the table as people gawk and flinch. “the poison was my idea, hope you don’t mind.” a second later you yawn of exhaustion and boredom. you look at rhaenrya as her eyes glossed with the revenge you took for her.

“If you’ll excuse me, the ride back was tiring and I wish to get back to my book.” bowing down you flash a “polite” smile and walk away to your chambers with pride and a hand rested on your blade. with everyone wondering what else you would do for the queen,

Your mother.

[ivysprophecy]

coincidence

warnings: this isnt a very... girls girl chapter XD got inspo from that one scene in oth where haley slaps daneel ackles lol sooo underage drinking, cursing, drinks thrown in faces, hair pulling, reader being difficult XD idk what else

word count: 1490

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summary: things with jj had been great, steady even. it was a whole month of pure bliss, so is it a coincidence that you predicted this was gonna happen?

divider by @bernardsbendystraws

things have been so great. jj and i have been great i should say rather. its likes nothing has changed but it has in the best ways.

and no ones said anything. no questions no pestering.

just us.

its been about a month since that day on the beach and to be truthful the sneaking around, stolen kisses, and small touches, its been so much fun.

granted i dont like lying to all of our friends but i think its been beneficial to our relationship. theres no pressure of any watchful eyes.

and its very helpful when they expect all the touching and glances anyway so like i said, its been easy and thrilling,

which leads us to now at a bonfire in the boneyard dancing and drinking and relaxing.

"im gonna go get another drink okay j?" he pats my thigh giving me that damn smirk.

"bring me one too mama, just a cup from the keg."

"you didn't use your manners maybank," i stand up looking back at him with a teasing smile.

he rolls his eyes tilting his head back pretending to be fed up with me. "please mama?"

"i suppose i can do that." i send him a wink. "ill be back in a minute, dont miss me too much."

"oh i miss you already," he smiles knowing exactly what its doing to me. hes sitting against the rocks with his legs spread and his arm splayed next to him resting against where i was sitting.

fuck he looks good. wanna take him home and climb him like a damn tree.

unfortunately to get to the keg i have to pass through the crowds of tourons, kooks, other pogues. its a giant mess of music, drama, and body odor.

with a few excuse me's and shoves i finally made it to the keg and coolers that house my preferred rum and cokes. i make my drink before grabbing jj's, marking the cups appropriately with one of the sharpies laying around.

ive only had three so its still legible.

doing my best to push past the crowds again with out spilling my drinks it takes a little longer to find my way back to my boyfriend.

who, when i turn past a group of people, i see him leaning against the rocks with some girl shoving her tongue down his throat. aggressively might i add.

so i do what any rational person would do in this situation. i threw my drink on her.

"fucking bitch!" i pull her off of jj by her obnoxiously long, thick, and blonde ponytail, "who the fuck do you think you are!? huh?! you like being a boyfriend stealing slut?"

"woah! woah? y/n-" i feel someone wrap their arms around my waist and pull me away from the girl, "take a breather i can explain-"

oh tell me he did not just say that.

"you can explain? you can explain how im gone for five fucking minutes and youve already got some dumb fucking touron wrapped around your finger? fuck that maybank! and fuck you!"

"mama! mama slow down! okay listen- just for two seconds listen to me!"

"i fucking trusted you!"

"you still can! i didnt kiss her!"

everyone has their heads turned in our direction at the sound of us bitching at each others face. including our friends.

this night just got shitty and its about to get a whole lot shittier. im not drunk enough for this. but somehow im also too drunk for this. you know what i mean?

"mama i wouldnt do that to you- cmon you know me. id never hurt you on purpose," jj pleaded for my sympathy.

i dont know if its the alcohol, the rage, or a combination of tonights events with the two. but i cant fucking deal with this right now.

"jj i saw you kissing her! dont fucking lie to me right now. i told you this wasnt gonna work. that it would be too much, too confusing, and that one of us was gonna do something the screw it up! but i prayed to god that it wouldnt be you j! and i NEVER wouldve thought itd be this soon. but i guess thats for the best right?"

"no! no its not- fuck. mama listen i didnt kiss her back! okay?! she was trynna feel up on me and talking about the island and shit and i tried to blow her off but she just-"

oh my god im seeing red.

i dont know whats true. i saw what i saw. i saw them kissing, and his body language didnt seem to convey that he didnt wanna be kissed. but maybe i saw it wrong? could i have? no. theres no way.

a good girlfriend would believe him, but isnt that just naive of me? what if he didnt want do this... i dont know. i dont know, theres no way. this is exactly what i was afraid of.

"jj dont start- i dont wanna hear it right now. i cant. i just cant. im done! im fucking going home. have fun with your little blonde!"

he goes and reaches for my arm trying to keep me close, letting out an exasperated sigh. "how are you getting home?"

"thats all youve gotta say right now? un fucking believable. ill walk home for all i care j but you need to let go of me right now."

"youre not fucking walking home y/n-"

"yes i am," i yank my arm from his grasp "and dont you dare follow me jj. im not afraid to have this fight right now but trust you dont want that. because you will stay single."

god i really wish i hadnt said that.

and with that i walk away without looking back. because i just cant help making things worse, its what i do best. i can already hear all the rest of the pogues running up to him with all these questions and i have no fucks left to give about it.

if he doesnt wanna answer them he can go back to the blonde girl. i wont be surprised.

what i am surprised about is to have john b run up behind me, turning me to face him gently.

"hey- um youve been drinking i dont really think you should walk home alone," john b, always playing hero.

"ill be fine jb. really. go back to sarah and jj ill be fine."

"you keep saying youll be fine but you look like youre about to cry."

damn. am i? i reach up to touch my face and feel a small trickle fall from the corner of my eye.

"look i wont bombard you right now just- let me walk you home? please? make sure youre safe?" i cant lie, itd be nice to know someone gives a damn about me right now.

"thanks john b... thats actually really nice of you," i wipe my tears away and sniff away the cracks in my voice.

how could i be so stupid? i dont do stuff like this. ever. and i just let it happen.

but i'm not wrong am? it cant be a total coincidence that i specifically brought this up with him and this is how it ends?

"... so... you and jj?"

"i thought you werent gonna bombard me?"

he throws his hands up in surrender "its only one question."

i sigh, throwing in the towel because one, hes my friend and he deserves to know. i shouldnt have lied to any of them. and two, it would feel nice to get some of this off my chest. "yea. me and jj. for about a month now.."

"a month??"

i send him daggers with my eyes warning him this is not the time as we walk down the dirt road that leads home to the chataeu.

"sorry- youre right. i wont bug you about it yet."

"yet," i let out a laugh that sounds bitchier than i meant it to be, "im sorry we didnt say anything... i was kind of afraid of this exact thing happening. wanted to keep it low key."

"i get it..." he leads me up to the door where he pauses for a minute. "but y/n/n, for what its worth i think you should hear him out. jj has done a lot of things, but cheating on you? thatd never be one of them."

i open the screen door taking off my flip flops as he speaks, unsure of how to take his suggestion.

"youre a really good friend john b. honest. but i need a little space from all of the jj talk right now. tell sarah im sorry i stole you from the party. have fun."

he nods understandingly, watching me flop onto the couch before walking back down the road.

i stare up at the ceiling thinking about how everything went so wrong so fast until sleep takes over.

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - V.1 - P.1

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, fem!MC and high school crush! male! NES (MC x NES)

Main Masterlist

Replaced MC AU/AU Masterlist (check the other versions and learn more about the NESs!)

Intro (gn!reader)

CW: unrequited love, rejection, insecure demons, i refuse to let MC be a doormat, lesson 16 mentioned, my interpretations of the pacts, suggestive (kinda? i dont know), MC is down bad for NES, golden retriever NES, both MC and NES are in their 20s

There were two songs during the writing of this part: Rock Lobster and Girl With One Eye; do with that information what you will

.

Diavolo liked NES. What a fine addition to the program he was! Invested in his studies, clearly interested in the new world he had been suddenly thrown to and cooperative as an advisor whenever MC was occupied with other matters. Charismatic, polite and respectful, still acting with naiveness, but quickly adapting to his surroundings.

No wonder MC used to be in love with him.

That was a surprise for everyone, although he’d be lying if he said it was a pleasant one. Solomon had laughed at the turn of events, stating how lucky MC was finding NES years later. In hell, no less! And while that made everything easier in terms of getting to know the Devildom from a familiar face, seeing MC smile with that bashfulness whenever she crossed paths with NES wasn’t something none of them were keen on. 

Sending him to Purgatory Hall despite MC’s protests was the obvious choice. The House of Lamentation was already crowded and having MC share her room was both unnecessary and unfair; at least, that’s what Lucifer said.

Both of the angels’ and Solomon’s reports were as positive as they could be. Luke thoroughly enjoyed baking with him, Simeon described his company as delightful and the sorcerer was ecstatic when he announced that NES tried every single one of his dishes, which just proved his bravery and resilience. 

Diavolo liked NES, yes, but he’d like him even more if MC liked him a little less.

.

.

“So those are pacts?”

MC stared at NES, mouth dry and words stuck in her throat. She needed to blink, but she didn’t know how to do that without looking weird. Of course NES’s eyes had to look like that under the light of the fireplace. 

“MC?”

“Yes?”

He laughed and her heart skipped a beat. There wasn’t an ounce of malice in his voice, making her wish his soft smile was born out of the intimate bubble encasing them. If she focused enough, she could swear NES had a blush in his cheeks. If only that wasn’t due to the heat.

“The pacts, MC”

“Oh, yeah”

Could the earth swallow her if she was already in hell?

“They’re bonds I share with the brothers. Kinda like…”

She didn’t know what to say then. That she could command the brothers and they had no other choice but to obey her? He'd discover the true meaning of the pacts if he asked the right people, mainly Solomon, but it still seemed like a fact too vulnerable to share.

“It means she’s part of the family” a voice behind them intervened. “That she belongs with us”

MC jumped and turned around at lightning speed, drowning in embarrassment at the realization that she’d completely forgotten about Satan’s presence in the library. However, something in his words irked her mind. Did he want to say that? Or rather that she belonged to them?

“That’s nice, right?” 

She looked at NES, who was smiling despite the heavy silence in the air. Satan scoffed, no doubt in a mocking tone, and MC wondered with sudden ire how far she could go.

“Well, these are just two of them”

Mammon’s, covering the tip of her fingers in pure black with golden swirls; and Beel’s, dripping out of her mouth down the length of her throat.

“And where are the others? They look really cool!”

“Come closer, I’ll show you Satan’s”

Said demon snapped his book close, turning around with glaring eyes. MC ignored him and opened her mouth, letting herself enjoy NES’s presence so close to her body. There was ink in her tongue, drawing hard edges in the shape of a very elaborated arrow. NES stared at it in amazement, unconsciously grabbing MC’s chin and moving it side to side, up and down, to admire the tattoo better.

“Do you want to see the others?”

NES took his hand away, discreetly looking at Satan out of the corner of his eye.

“Would you…?”

“I don’t think that’s necessary” 

The blond glared at them and MC stared him down with a silent warning.

“I don’t think that’s your decision to make”

The tension was thick once again and MC sighed when NES looked away in awkwardness, but she couldn’t let Satan spoil what she wanted to be a nice date.

“Come with me to my room, NES, I’ll show you the rest of them”

He didn’t need any reassurance, taking his DDD and MC’s blanket with him before following her out of the room. 

The fireplace was still lit, but Satan felt unusually cold. 

.

.

“She invited him to her room?!” Asmo clutched his chest before covering his annoyance in fake saccharine words. “How daring!”

“Lucifer will be furious!” cried Levi trying not to drop his DDD in his drink, finally letting it rest on the table and keeping his trembling hands inside his pockets.

“Why didn’t you stop them?” 

Satan looked at Mammon in disbelief, sneering at his brother’s furious expression. 

“Do you really think I didn’t want to? She wasn’t exactly happy with me at the moment!”

“Well, no wonder! You cock-blocked her!” 

Levi screeched at Asmo with a horrified look in his face, tears already in his eyes and fingers fidgeting with his jacket’s zipper.

“She’s raising their intimacy levels at ultimate speed! She’s taking the shortcut! There’s no way a yucky disgusting otaku could compete with that!”

Asmo rolled his eyes, patting the sobering demon’s back.

“None of us can compete with that, Levi”

Everyone looked at Mammon in surprise, but he was staring at his fingers, completely defeated. 

“As much as it pains me to say this, Mammon is right”

“Oi! Have some respect for your older brother!”

“Shut up, you moron! I’m taking your side” speaked Asmo once again. He sighed and crossed his arms, hugging himself with sadness. “MC already made her choice. The only thing we can do is slow the process”

“Then we’ll do that”

Satan seemed determined, rejecting Mammon’s supporting touch when he leaned over his chair to grasp his arm. He got up and started to grab his things, stopping only when he heard Levi’s nervous voice.

“She’s already mad at you, Satan. Like… bosslike mad at you.”

“Do you really want to risk that?”

He refused to meet his brothers�� eyes, nor their fear, their empathy or their dejectedness. Without saying another word, he stepped out of Café Lament and set foot to the House of Lamentation.

.

.

MC loved the brothers. They’d become family, even with the death threats, the broken wall and the murder. They knew what she liked to do and eat and wear and they were more than happy to indulge in her wishes. 

But if they interrupted her time with NES one more time, so help me God, she’d give Hell a whole new meaning.

First it was Satan, sitting next to her in every class and cutting every attempt at a conversation with NES short in the name of a proper education. Then followed Belphie, who slept on the floor by her bedroom door, locking her inside and forcing her to jump out of the window, which gave everyone a heart attack. 

Lucifer mildly scolded them for that, stating himself above the poor behavior they were displaying, but still found multiple reasons for MC to be in his office for hours on end. Same as Levi, who pulled three all-nighters in a row and left her half-dead for a week. 

Mammon and Beel had been more subtle, both inviting her to movie nights, cooking sessions and shopping sprees. She only put a stop to all of the nonsense when Mammon tried to intercept her when she was on her way to a date with NES, excusing himself with a poor idiotic story about some angry witches. 

Strangely, the only one not to have a stupid scheme against her crush was Asmo. She almost expected him to be the most obvious about it, but nothing happened. He still did her nails and he helped her choose her outfits whenever she had a date with NES, albeit with a harsher critical attitude. 

He quickly became the nicest one to be around and she had no qualms in saying so.

“Oh, MC! You always know how to make me happy!”

“But it is true! I don’t know what’s wrong with the others! They’ve been acting so weird…”

Asmo stopped rummaging through her closet, turning around to look at her with an unamused expression. He looked tired.

“Honey… Surely you know. You must know”

They stayed in silence for a few seconds, both knowing that MC knew what he was talking about. All seven brothers had been interested in her to some extent, claiming ownership over her soul on more than one occasion, and this was the first time she’d rejected all those statements in such an obvious way. 

“We miss you, MC” 

Not the whole truth, but something neither of them could deny. 

“I miss you too”, she assured him. 

She could’ve left it at that, ending the raw, vulnerable talk in a positive tone. Alas, things weren’t always that easy. 

“But I like him. So, so much”

MC didn’t want to cry, but she was close. The dejection in Asmo’s eyes lasted long enough for her to almost regret knowing NES for so many years. In the end, he hid himself amongst her pile of clothes and continued looking for a good outfit.

“I’ll find time for you, I swear. For all of you”

Asmo nodded without looking at her, ending the conversation when he threw some clothes in her direction and waited for the mandatory catwalk. 

It wouldn’t be enough, but it was the best the brothers could ever get. After all, if someone deserved to be happy and in love, it was her.

.

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Taglist: @stfuchaase @k1-an @megs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry @arylleb @b-a-m-2006

[sturniolospumpkin]

matt’s — m.s. & c.s.

part four

(part one // part two // part three)

pairings: bf!matt x gf!reader x chris

summary: after last night’s events, you and matt have a conversation with chris.

warnings: MDNI. contains smut, oral sex (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), overstimulation, squirting, crying, angst.

disclaimers: this is all fiction. obviously the triplets are not like this in real life, these are just fics i write out of boredom. please do not republish my work as your own, and please credit me if using my writing as inspo <3

the unmistakable squeak of matt’s door pulls you from your sleep. turning to the other side of the bed, your eyes land on a shirtless matt, clad only in a pair of grey sweatpants. you watch as he quietly places a glass of water on his nightstand, still unaware that you’re awake.

“matty?” you croak, eyes squinted as you adjust to the bright sunlight that peaks through the windows.

his gentle eyes flicker to you, a soft smile appearing on his tired face.

“morning baby.” he greets, voice raspy as he climbs into the bed, pulling you into his warm chest.

his fingers along trace your back soothingly as he hugs you, placing a kiss on your forehead before resting his chin atop your head.

“did you sleep okay?” his raspy morning voice is low.

“mhm” you hum, still groggy as you nuzzle your head into his chest.

silence fills the room after you answer. your head moves with the rise and fall of his chest as he rubs your back. he’s so soft, so warm, but his embrace around you grows tighter, until eventually he’s clutching you for dear life. the silence persists, but he doesn’t need to speak for you to know what he’s saying.

“do you wanna talk about it? last night?” matt mutters after a few minutes.

“um—i— i dont know.” you stutter, throat suddenly going dry.

“we don’t have to. i just— i just want to make sure we’re okay. yesterday was a lot. i hurt you, and i understand if you’re upset with me.” matt explains as the memories of the previous night flood your brain.

you hesitate for a moment, unsure if you want to air your grievances, but matt’s soft touch on your back reminds you that you’re safe.

“i’ve just never seen you so— angry” you start, voice barely above a whisper, “like you hated me, like i was nothing to you. it was scary.”

matt lets out a shaky breath, before placing a kiss on your forehead.

“i know baby, i know. i’m so sorry, so fucking sorry for treating you like that. i could never hate you okay?” voice cracking as he speaks. “i didn’t mean any of that awful shit i said to you. i’m so sorry princess.”

you nod your head in his chest, trying to accept his words, but there’s one other memory from last night that you can’t quite shake.

“and then you just left. i thought you were going to break up with me. i thought i lost you.” you squeak.

“im so sorry baby, i really fucked up. but i will never leave you, okay? you will never lose me. i can’t apologize enough for even putting that fear in your head.” he sighs, pulling you back from his chest.

his teary eyes meet yours, pleading not for forgiveness, but for belief. he knew you wouldn’t forgive him immediately, and he didn’t expect you too, but he couldn’t stand the thought of losing your trust.

“okay.” you respond, feeling reassured by his words. you know he’s being genuine— matt has never lied to you.

“i love you more than anything y/n.” he whispers, “you are my everything. i’m sorry i made you feel any less than that. i don’t expect you to forgive me overnight, i just need you to know that it’ll never happen again.”

“i know matty, i love you too.” you nod.

“and i meant what i said— about you and chris.” he adds, “if that’s what you want still.”

you nod your head slowly, taking in the weight of his words, “are you sure? you aren’t just saying this because of what happened last night?”

“i’m sure. i wouldn’t lie to you baby. especially about you dating my brother.” he chuckles attempting to lighten the mood, eyes still fixed on yours.

“i don’t need to have both of you though. you know you’re more than enough for me matty.” you explain.

and you genuinely meant it. you would be more than happy with just matt for the rest of your life if that’s what the future held. he’s everything you could ask for in a partner. but he and chris complimented each other so well���no—complimented you so well. the dynamic between you and them was something you didn’t want to give up, but you would if you had to.

“i know you don’t need both of us, but you want both of us— and you deserve whatever you want. you have no clue how deserving you are baby. i mean it when i say i’d do anything for you.” matt tells you.

the room falls silent again.

“i don’t wanna hurt you though.” you whisper, “it’s not really fair to you.”

matt let’s out a soft chuckle, “baby you’re not hurting me. nothing would change really. chris already spends most of his time with us, and you guys have already had sex. it doesn’t mean less for me, it just means more for you, and more for him. it’s entirely your decision baby—i’ll be happy as long as i have you. i just want you to be happy and not hide your feelings from me because you’re afraid it’ll hurt me.”

your eyes are locked on each others as you take in his words, and then you feel it—tears flowing down your face.

“baby what’s wrong? please— i didn’t mean to make you cry.” matt shushes you, voice laced with concern.

but they aren’t tears of sadness, they’re tears of relief. you had been so worried about hurting matt, or chris for that matter. the feeling had weighed heavily on you since the day had sex with them both. you were terrified of what having to pick between them would mean for the three of you. but matt’s words send the fear and anxiety out of your body, leaving only gratitude as you bury your head in his chest, clinging to him tightly.

“i just love you so much. i don’t know how i got so lucky.” you cry.

“i ask myself the same thing.” matt chuckles, “you know i’m gonna love you forever right?”

you nod your head before responding, “i love you forever too matty.”

“y’wanna go talk to chris?” he asks.

“chris, you up?” matt follows his question with a few knocks on chris’s bedroom door.

there’s no response on the other side of the door, and for a moment you wonder if he’s even awake. the two of you exchange a glance before the door suddenly opens, revealing a disheveled chris. his eyes are puffy and bloodshot—he’s been crying. his gaze finds you first, lingering for only a second before shifting to his brother.

“yeah?” chris’s voice is hoarse.

“can we talk? all of us?” matt gestures between the three of you.

chris’s eyes go wide, shooting you a worried glance before giving matt a hesitant nod. he turns around, taking a seat in his desk chair as you and matt make your way over to sit on his bed. the room is nearly silent, only the sound of chris’s leg bouncing on the floor—a nervous habit of his that you’ve noticed—fills the room. his eyes dart between you and his brother as he gnaws at his lip. you want to tell him that everything is fine, but you yourself are too nervous to speak.

“you were right, we need to establish some uh— boundaries going forward.” matt’s voice pulls your attention.

“what?” chris questions.

“boundaries? like y’know, what lines can and can’t be crossed.” matt clarifies.

“no—i mean, i know what boundaries are,” chris shakes his head, eyes landing on yours, “but, i mean—you want to—matt you’re saying you’re okay with—” chris struggles to form a coherent sentence, letting out a shaky sigh.

“go ahead baby, tell him.” matt gives you a reassuring nod.

you’re suddenly aware of how fast your heart is beating, and how sweaty your palms are. you try to compose yourself under their gazes, taking a deep breath before speaking.

“i want both of you.” you blurt out, voice so quiet you aren’t even sure chris heard you.

you watch his face contort, brows furrowing and head tilting in confusion, until it all clicks for him. his mouth falls open, eyes widening, and you swear you catch a small smirk start to form before he shakes his head.

“what do you mean?” chris asks.

“i have feelings for matt, and for you.” you respond, voice a little louder this time.

“so when you say you want us, you mean like—” he pauses, eyebrows raised at you.

you nod, “i wanna be with you both. if you’d be okay with it.”

“and you’re okay with this?” chris asks his brother in disbelief, considering his actions less than 24 hours ago.

“as long as there are boundaries.” matt nods.

“jesus christtttt” chris draws, a hand running through his hair as he leans back in his chair, eyes trained on the ceiling, “thought you were coming in here to tell me to move out and never speak to you again.”

chris sits back up, eyes shifting between you and his brother before locking on matt.

“and instead you’re telling me the best news of my life.” chris smiles before letting out a chuckle, “you need to work on your delivery.”

“so you have feelings for me too?” you squeak, heat rising to your cheeks.

“sweetheart,” chris practically scoffs before standing up and walking over to where you and his brother sit.

he reaches a hand out to touch you, but abruptly stops himself, remembering what matt said about boundaries. he didn’t want to cross a line before even starting.

“you already know the answer to that. i’ve had feelings for you since the day i met you—sorry matt.” chris confesses.

“hard to blame ya’.” matt shrugs, flashing you a quick smile.

“so what sort of boundaries?” chris’s question is directed at matt, but his eyes stay on yours.

“i don’t know exactly, i think we all just need to be on the same page and communicate. and if we think this is ruining shit between us, we all agree to go back to how things were before?” matt suggests, pulling a nod from you and chris.

but your heart stings at his last sentence for a reason you can’t entirely understand. it’s not like being with matt wasn’t enough, or that you weren’t happy with him.

“so you don’t care if we’re alone together?” chris presses, needing reassurance that something like last night won’t happen again.

“chris she’s just as much your girl as she is mine. as long as she’s okay with it, we can share her.” matt looks to you for approval, to which you nod.

chris exhales, burying his face in his hands as he tries to process the conversation. he quickly picks his head up, turning to meet your eyes.

“my girl” he mumbles to himself with a smile, eyes shifting to his brother,“you know how fucking insane this is right?”

“yeah,” matt sighs, “you telling me you don’t want her though?”

“you kidding? c’mere sweetheart.” chris pats his lap for you to sit.

you happily oblige, plopping yourself in his lap, legs hanging over his. his hand finds your lower back, rubbing gentle circles.

“you sure you want this?” chris asks softly, his eyes flickering to your lips.

your eyes shift to matt, seeking his reassurance once more. he gives you a nod, his smile soft and genuine. you can’t deny your nerves though. your mind spins at the thought of everything that could go wrong. but you also can’t deny your feelings. you want them both— you love them both. so you nod your head.

“words sweetheart?” chris requests.

“i’m sure. if that’s okay?” you respond.

“more than okay.” chris chuckles before connecting your lips in a soft kiss.

it’s the first time you’ve kissed him since the night you slept with him. this kiss is much more brief, but just as passionate. chris pulls away only moments later, prompting matt to speak again.

“i think i owe her an apology for last night, you wanna help me out?” matt smirks, your heart racing in anticipation.

“fuck yeah” chris nods breathlessly, pupils blown with lust.

“sit her up against the headboard with you.” matt directs his brother.

chris taps your hip gently, signaling for you to stand up. he props himself against his headboard before pulling you back onto the bed to sit between his spread legs. you watch as matt situates himself between your legs, ridding you of your sleep shorts. his soft fingertips drag across the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. chris’s hand tangles in your hair gently, tilting your head to expose your neck as he leaves a trail of wet kisses, whispering praises with every kiss.

“gonna make you feel so good baby. gonna show you how sorry i am, okay?” matt’s blue eyes are locked on yours as he waits for your permission.

his mouth is on you the moment you nod your head, tongue gliding through your folds, exploring every inch before plunging into your hole. his movements are slow and deliberate, low groans leaving his lips when he removes his tongue from your hole to suck on your clit. meanwhile chris’s free hand has wandered to your breast, massaging gently through the fabric of your shirt. you let out a moan when chris’s hand grazes your nipple, causing your hips to buck forward on matt’s face.

“that’s it, such a good girl.” matt praises with a hum.

chris lifts your shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest. the tip of his finger gently circles your nipple, chills dancing down your spine before he rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. moans fall from your lips as the two boys pleasure you. it’s not long before the familiar feeling grows inside you, causing you to squirm under their grip.

“you gonna cum for us?” matt asks— but he already knows the answer.

you let out something of a squeal as the coil inside you snaps, your pussy spasming against matt’s mouth. pleasure courses through your veins as chris attempts to holds you in place, but your hips practically grind against matt’s face.

“i love you, fuck, i love you, i love you so much, you’re perfect, i love you.” matt repeats as he laps at your juices.

“dude you gotta have a taste of her,” matt suggests, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “always tastes so good.”

chris nods, getting up from behind you and switching places with matt. you’re still coming down from your high, eyes widening as you process what’s about to happen before chris’s mouth connects with your core. a whine of overstimulation leaves your mouth as you try to squirm out of place, but matt, now sitting behind you, holds your legs open for his brother. chris’s tongue circles your sensitive clit causing you to throw your head back.

“shit baby, look at him.” matt grabs your face, his grip firm but gentle, tilting it to where chris is positioned between your legs.

you let out a moan at the sight beneath you. chris’s eyes are shut, his moans muffling against your pussy as he devours you. you’re completely soaked from the combination of your arousal, matt’s spit, and now chris’s spit.

“you a happy girl hm? got us both to yourself.” matt coos.

you nod your head, unable to speak.

“my baby always gets what she wants huh?” matt whispers, “’cause you deserve the world.”

his tone is so sweet it makes your stomach tingle. his lips are pressed against your ear as he speaks softly to you, the vibrations and warmth of his voice only add to the sensation. chris suddenly pulls his mouth off of you, but before you can protest you watch as he spits directly onto your pussy, his fingers coming up to drag the spit through your folds before plunging into your hole.

“oh fuck” you let out a high-pitched whine.

“gonna cum for chrissy?” matt asks.

“yeah sweetheart? feels good?” chris peers up at you, “like when i spit on you like a dirty girl?”

his words send you over the edge, your orgasm washing over you as he returns his mouth to your pussy, tongue fucking you through it. when you finally come down from your high, chris removes his face from your core, pressing a kiss to your thigh before sitting up to grab a tissue to wipe his fingers.

“such a good girl.” matt praises, lips pressing against your cheek.

suddenly he reaches his fingers in between your legs causing you to whimper at the sensitivity, having already cum twice in all of 10 minutes.

“one more baby? wanna make it up to you please, wanna make you feel so good.” matt pleads.

you nod your head before he slips two fingers into your wet hole, a choked moan escaping you. chris sits face to face with your pussy, mesmerized at the way you take matt’s fingers.

“what a good fucking girl.” chris hums, his fingers trailing your thigh as he makes eye contact with his brother.

you’re almost certain you feel matt nod behind you—to what, you aren’t sure. until chris returns his gaze to your pussy and lines two of his fingers up just below matt’s, pushing into your soft walls. you gasp at the unexpected intrusion, chris smirking below you as he begins moving his fingers in tandem with his brother’s. whines leave your lips and you squirm under matt’s hold as they finger you.

“you like that sweetheart?” matt asks with a kiss to your jaw.

you nod rapidly, glancing down to take in the sight. matt’s arm is draped over your waist, fingers curling up into your pussy while chris’s chin rests on his arm, eye level with your pussy as he fucks the fingers of his free hand in and out of you.

“fucked soaked sweetheart, making a damn mess.” chris chuckles as your arousal drips onto his bed.

“not my fault.” you mutter, barely audible.

“what’s that baby?” matt asks.

“’s not my fault.” you whimper at their fingers, “can’t help it, you— you keep making me feel good.”

“oh we know sweetheart, not your fault at all.” chris coos.

“we just can’t help ourselves baby.” matt adds, thumb connecting with your swollen clit to rub slow circles, “just love making you cum for us.”

the added stimulation sends you reeling, and you struggle to sit still as you the boys continue their actions.

“close sweetheart?” chris asks.

you nod your head before matt slides a third finger inside of you, a loud moan leaving your lips as you squirm in pleasure. you’re impossibly full of their fingers, the sight alone nearly pushes you over the edge. desperate whines leave your lips as they continue thrusting their fingers in and out of you.

“look at that, taking five fucking fingers in your pussy. that’s our good girl.” matt praises.

“so perfect, bet that feels so good doesn’t it sweetheart?” chris’s glazed eyes are locked on yours.

“yes— fuck” you moan.

“gonna cum for us aren’t you baby?” matt asks.

you nod your head rapidly, an unfamiliar sensation growing in your abdomen. you feel yourself tipping, heart racing as you realize what’s about to happen.

“i think i’m gonna—” your sentence is cut off by a yelp as matt and chris speed up their fingers, only exacerbating the feeling.

“that’s it, let go baby.” matt hums.

“cum all over our fingers sweetheart.” chris chimes.

and to everyone’s surprise, you do exactly that, liquid shooting everywhere as your orgasm washes over you. tears of pleasure flow down your cheeks as a slew of moans leave you, the boys never stopping the movements of their fingers.

“holy shit—” matt starts.

“did she just—” chris begins before exchanging a glance with matt.

you think you’re finally coming down from the most powerful orgasm you’ve ever had when matt and chris increase the pace of their fingers, matt’s other hand moving to rub your clit. the sensation is incredibly overwhelming and you yelp as the feeling in your abdomen returns.

“i—” you start to protest before matt cuts you off.

“more baby.” matt demands, eyes completely entranced on their soaked hands, the wet spot on the bed, and the loud squelching of your pussy.

your whines and babbles are incoherent. it feels so good that all you can do is cry in pleasure as the dam breaks again. liquid gushes all over, adding to the mess between the three of you. their fingers slow this time, relief washing over you as you catch your breath.

“there we go” matt hums in satisfaction.

“you are fucking amazing.” chris groans.

“fucking perfect.” matt corrects, “did so good for us baby, squirting all over. look at the pretty mess you made.”

you shift your eyes down, gasping at the wet spot soaking through chris’s comforter, their shiny hands, and chris’s glistening face.

“i’m sorry, i couldn’t—” you whisper.

“don’t apologize.” the two of them respond in unison before chuckling.

they pull their fingers out of you slowly before chris gets up to grab a towel. matt rubs soft circles on your thigh, placing kisses to the side of your face.

“such a perfect girl, we’re so lucky. did that feel good baby?” matt asks.

“really good matty.” you nod your head.

“i hope you know how sorry i am for yesterday. i will spend the rest of time making it up to you.” matt whispers, his head dropping into the crook of your neck.

“i’m okay matty, you’re okay.” you reassure him as chris returns with a towel to wipe you up before tossing the towel to his brother.

“think i’m gonna need to wash my sheets sweetheart,” chris chuckles, “y’wanna go take a shower then we’ll watch a movie or something?”

“yeah c’mon baby let’s get you cleaned up.” matt nods, climbing out from behind you to get off the bed before picking you up bridal style and carrying you to his bathroom.

matt sits you on the edge of the bathtub before turning on the shower. once he rids himself of his clothes, he reaches his hand out for you to grab. you take his hand, but your attempt to stand is unsuccessful as your wobbly legs cause you to lose your balance, nearly falling over before matt’s hands catch your hips to steady you.

“woah” he chuckles before guiding you into the shower, a smile of pride spreading across his face, “i gotcha princess.”

after showering, you find yourself on the couch, head resting in matt’s lap, legs sprawled out as chris enters the living room in new clothes, his hair damp from showering. he smiles at you, making his way over to the couch and lifting your legs up gently to take a seat before placing your legs over his. his soft hands rub along your calves as he searches through netflix. matt’s hand finds it’s way into hair, fingers gently rubbing your scalp. the duality of their soft touch causes your eyes to shut, an exhale of relief leaving you. this feels so perfect.

chris puts on an episode of criminal minds before tossing the remote next to him and leaning back. his eyes scan your figure, spread perfectly across him and his brother.

“this is going to be fun to explain to nick.” chris laughs.

“oh my god” matt responds with a chuckle, “his head’s gonna explode.”

the two of them exchange laughs at the thought of their brother’s reaction. but chris’s words don’t amuse you, they scare you. reality sets in, fear trailing in it’s path as you realize they’re right, nick is going to freak out— and if their own brother is going to freak out, how will everyone else react? you know what will the public reception will be, you know what will be said about you, what will be said about matt and chris. your mind spirals at the thought of hurting their public image, or worse, their careers entirely. you sit yourself up, suddenly feeling like you’re going to be sick.

“you okay baby? what’s wrong?” the concern in matt’s voice pulls chris’s attention to your face.

“what’s everyone going to think—say—about… us?” you mumble, eyes dropping into your lap.

matt sighs at your question, exchanging a glance with his brother before leaning his forehead against the side of your head. he knew it was only a matter of time before this conversation came up, but he hoped somehow it wouldn’t.

“honestly baby, i don’t know.” his voice is soft as his fingers play with the hem of your shirt, trying to calm his own thoughts, “i’m sorry.”

his words offer no comfort to you as the room falls silent, the three of you processing your situation.

“honestly,” chris speaks up, “i don’t give a fuck what they say.”

you and matt turn to look at him, taken aback by his bluntness and the small smile that tugs at his lips.

“but—” you start before his arms wrap around your waist, leaning forward to kiss your cheek.

“i don’t care. this is the happiest i’ve ever been in my entire life. i’m not letting anyone take that from me— from us.” chris states matter of factly.

“chris is right.” matt nods, “how ’bout we just keep it private for now? just between the three of us. i don’t want other people involved in this part of our lives.”

both of their words calm you, but chris isn’t pleased with his brother’s suggestion.

“i mean, that’s not fair matt. i’m not hiding my girl.” chris responds.

“it’s not hiding, chris, it’s protecting.” matt’s tone is sharp.

“we’re not protecting her by pretending people aren’t gonna have negative shit to say.” chris retorts.

“we’re not pretending anything, i just don’t think we need to immediately subject ourselves, especially her, to that.” matt explains.

“so what, we don’t even tell nick? and i’m just supposed to restrain myself when he’s around? pretend like we’re not— together?” chris continues.

you feel tears brim your eyes, guilt washing over you as you sit between the bickering pair. this is exactly what you feared, you’re already a source of tension and causing issues between them. matt’s hard expression softens when he notices your glossy eyes, a hand instantly reaching to cup your cheeks and wipe your fallen tears with his thumb.

“hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re alright baby.” matt coos before pulling you into his chest for a hug, his chin resting atop your head. “let’s not talk about this right now okay?” he suggests to his brother.

chris nods, rubbing your back softly for a moment before he too wraps his arms around you from behind. he places his head in the crook of your neck before a soft voice leaves his lips.

“i’m sorry sweetheart. we can do whatever you want, okay? always.” and you know he means every word.

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed part 4! this is going to be the last chapter of this series, BUT i will still be writing small blurbs for this series. i just don’t want to drag out the storyline by continuing to write long chapters if that makes sense :)

✧ tags✧ @m1zzi3 @pepsiisgoatedasf @courta13 @2muchofaslvt @monroesturnns @emmaweasley @iloveduckssm @tahliama @ellajane2332 @riowritesitall @izzysturniiolo @angeliijay12-blog @brianna-grace12

(if i missed you on my taglist or you want to be added, please lmk!)

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: king! Seonghwa x queen! f! yn

Word Count: 2804

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, smut warnings under cut

Genre: Fluff, smut, royal au, M for mature audiences

Summary: Your marriage to Seonghwa has been nothing exciting. But things change during his coronation ball.

Smut Warnings: unprotected sex (DONT DO THIS unless you discuss safely outside of sex!), some praise, slight begging, pretty vanilla if i do say so myself lol

Written for @cultofdionysusnet's permanent event <3 took me a bit to get it down lol, and a big thank you to @arafilez and @sanjoongie for helping me out <3 i really wrote 1.5k prologue before getting to the smut and u can tell it got to me since the smut is very storybook like and not just filth lol

AND yes i know the irony of having a red themed banner when the title is blue blood but hey man i...have no excuse

-

Your palms are sweaty. It’s the first ball the royal family has hosted since your marriage to the then-Crown Prince, Park Seonghwa. And it’s the first social gathering you’ve attended since. You’re pretty sure the maids can see how nervous you are and you’re grateful the wine-red gown you’ve adorned for the occasion will cover any sweat marks or wrinkles you’re sure you will make.

You cannot even politely decline this event—not when it’s marking the start of your husband’s reign as king.

As the maids layer one last necklace, you shiver at the feeling of the cool metal touching your skin. The sparks flickering inside the red jewel catch your eye and you brush your fingers against it with a bittersweet smile. It was a wedding gift from your husband, the Park family blessed with fire magic. You find it ironic that such a cold-faced family can have control over such warm and bright magic, as well as red being their crest colour.

You don’t hate Seonghwa, of course. He’s been respectful to you, only speaking to you when necessary and otherwise leaving you be. The two of you share different, albeit connected, chambers, and he never enters your room without permission on the rare occasion he needs to.

But God, you wish he would at least smile at you so you don’t feel like a piece of furniture in your new home. While high up in nobility as the daughter of an Earl, you were no duchess and you were sure if you attended social teas you would be scrutinised. So you stick with counselling the civilians who cannot win an audience with Seonghwa and managing the household.

With another sigh, you send the servants away to gather your wits before meeting your husband in the foyer. You squeeze your eyes shut, breathing deep, before moving to pour yourself a small glass of wine.

As you down the bitter liquid, a knock sounds at the door. “YN, are you in there?” The honey-deep voice of your husband makes you jump a little.

“Ah, yes, I’m coming,” you call out, setting down the crystal glass and opening the door to see your husband standing just a bit too close to the door. You’re met with a faceful of his chest and you stumble back. “Ah–”

A firm hand wraps around your waist to keep you from tripping on your skirt and you can see the faint amusement on Seonghwa’s face. “Now, now, we can’t have you falling even before the dancing starts,” he chuckles, and you stare at him, unused to such a cheerful demeanour from him. His lips twitch as he holds back his smile. “Are you all right, my wife? You look a little befuddled.”

You blink up at him owlishly before realising how you must look and quickly turning your face away. “I’m all right. Shall we go down, then?”

Seonghwa chuckles low in his throat. His hand reaches up and brushes a few strands of your hair out of your eyes. His touch is soft and you involuntarily find yourself melting just a little. “Yes, let’s go and show off my beautiful wife.”

You laugh at that, pushing him away playfully. “This night isn’t about me, it’s about you…my king.”

Seonghwa coughs when you use his new title and it’s his turn to face away from you, although you can see his ears are red. “Yes, well. Let’s get going then. We can’t keep our guests waiting.” He offers up his arm for you to take, and you gingerly rest your hands on him with a small smile, keeping your eyes lowered.

Thankfully the distance from your rooms to the foyer isn’t far as the walk there is awkwardly silent. But as soon as you enter and all eyes are on you two, it’s like a button is pressed that makes you immediately at ease and you intermingle easily with your guests. Waiters are milling about serving a selection of wines, and you drink just a tad more than you ought.

It’s nice to mingle with the courtesans and landowners like you used to, and you make a mental note to start attending tea again. You were anxious about them for nothing—they’ve known you since before you were the queen so they aren’t forming any new opinions of you.

Giggling, you weave your way around the crowd until you bump into a firm back. “Hello, my wife,” Seonghwa hums, holding you steady with amusement dancing behind his dark eyes. “I see you’re enjoying yourself.”

You blame the lingering burn of alcohol in your veins for the following actions. You lean onto his shoulder, a dazed smile pulling at your lips as you look up at your husband. “I am, Hwa.” The nickname tumbles naturally from your lips without a second thought although Seonghwa’s eyes widen for a split second. “Are you enjoying yourself too?”

“I’ll excuse myself, you spend time with your wife.” You hardly even register the minister of defence’s words as you wrap an arm around Seonghwa’s waist and press a kiss to the shoulder of his uniform. “Congratulations on your ascent to the throne, your majesty.”

Seonghwa bows as best he can with you attached to him before turning to you to place both his hands on your shoulders. “Do you need to go to bed? The party is slowing down a bit so you can if you’d like.”

You shake your head, subconsciously pouting. “No, I wanna wait for you first.” Your head leans against his chest and you can hear his heartbeat pick up slightly.

“...Alright. Let’s close this up nicely, YN.”

You don’t really know what’s happening, but you smile and farewell the last stragglers as the time passes. The alcohol is almost out of your system, but you stay close to Seonghwa, not ready to let him go quite yet. His arm around your waist makes your heart flutter and you look up at him as he waves away the last guest.

“Why are you staring at me?” he murmurs without even looking down and you chuckle to yourself, gaze unwavering.

“I like you, Hwa.”

It feels like time stands still as soon as the words fall from your mouth. Seonghwa’s eyes find your own and neither of you move for a long second. “...Are you still drunk?” You would find his question offensive, but his tone is hopeful so you can’t find it in your heart to.

“No, not for this,” you shake your hair and before he can stop himself, Seonghwa brushes your hair out of your face again. “I’m not in love, not yet. But I can safely say I like you. Especially if you keep touching me like this.”

Something must have overcome Seonghwa in that moment because he leans in and his grip on your waist tightens almost imperceptibly. “Well, in that case. I like you too. And I could touch you a lot more if you’d let me.” He practically whispers the last sentence, his lips almost ghosting over yours.

You blink at him, a mirror to just before the party, and a smile grows on your face. “I’d let you.”

Seonghwa straightens up immediately, a light blush dusting his cheeks and he calls over one of the servants and whispers something to them. When the servant nods and hurries off, Seonghwa turns back to you, a wolfish grin growing on his face. “Shall we head back to our chambers, my wife?”

Heat slowly crawls over your face as you nod eagerly and Seonghwa chuckles and cups your face tenderly, placing a kiss on your forehead before taking your wrist and leading you up the flights of stairs in the next breath.

The two of you burst into his room giggling and hands clasped. Seonghwa kicks the door closed and pulls you into his arms, his face buried in your hair as he breathes in your scent. “...You’re sure you’re not drunk?”

His voice is small, and you smile to yourself at the sound of it. Wriggling your way out of his grasp, you bring his slender hands to your lips and press a light kiss to the tips of his fingers. “I’m absolutely sure, my king.”

Seonghwa lets out another deep breath, stepping closer and leaning down to gently press his lips against yours. You taste of bitter wine, but he seems to enjoy it, brushing his tongue over the seam of your lips and you eagerly grant access. The two of you deepen the kiss as he slowly backs you to his bed. When your knees touch the mattress Seonghwa breaks away, his lips swollen and spit slicked.

“Strip?” he asks, his voice gravelly and your thighs clench at the sound of it. You reach behind you, attempting to reach the fasteners but failing. Seonghwa chuckles, spinning you around. “You’re so pretty, YN. I’m glad I get to share my life with you.” His hand rests on your shoulder blade as he undoes each clasp with his other hand.

Suddenly, his lips touch your shoulder bone and you gasp at the soft feeling. “Hwa–”

“I’d like to bend you over right now, but you’re too precious to be taken so roughly on our first time. I want to cherish you like the queen you are.” Seonghwa mouths at your hot skin, his hands moving up and down your sides as your dress falls to the floor, leaving you in your undergarments.

Your hands instinctively come up to cover yourself but Seonghwa’s reflexes are faster than yours and he grabs your wrists, holding you in place. “Don’t cover up, my wife,” he whispers, leaning up to kiss you sweetly. “Let me love you like you deserve.”

You look at him with wide eyes, before nodding the tiniest bit. Seonghwa isn’t satisfied, an eyebrow raising, and you squeak out a quiet “yes”. As soon as the word leaves your mouth, his mouth is reattached to your neck and his hips grind down onto your hip and you can feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh.

“Hwa, please,” you whine, feeling a burning in your core.

“Mmh, love it when you call me that,” Seonghwa murmurs, his hand coming down to unfasten his pants and shoving them down enough to free his cock. “There’s something about you that’s so fucking alluring. All I can think about is fucking you so well all you can do is think about me just as much as I do with you.”

He shifts, adjusting himself so he can grind his cock against your dripping folds and kiss you at the same time. The softness of his lips makes you smile and you throw your arms around him to bring him closer to you. For a moment, both of you are too caught up in your kiss, but then the tip of his dick gets caught in your fluttering hole and you moan into his mouth.

“Gods–” Seonghwa groans, hips stilling. You can feel every time his dick twitches inside of you. “Are you ready? Please–” The last word falls from his lips in a whisper, as if he’s almost embarrassed to beg.

Instead of a response, you hook your legs around his waist and pull his hips flush against you, immediately driving his cock deep inside you. You throw your head back at the feeling of it spearing into you, Seonghwa dropping his head to rest against your chest. “Fuck, you’re so– so perfect for me,” he stutters out, his voice low and heavy with lust. “Want to stay like this forever.”

“Less talking,” you order, twisting your hips to try and get him impossibly deeper inside of you. A crooked smile pulls at Seonghwa’s lips, and before you can say anything else, he pulls back and starts hammering into you like it’s his last day in the kingdom.

You can hardly get words out, only whines and mumbles, his cock reaching so deep inside of you. With every thrust, he hits that perfect spot inside of you and your hands dig into the thick fabric of his uniform top. “Ah– Seonghwa, you’re splitting me apart so good,” you moan, breath hot on his neck.

You swear your guts will be rearranged after this, his thick cock stretching you so perfectly. With every thrust, you can feel your walls squeezing so tightly around him and your hips are shaking with pleasure. Seonghwa’s eyes are trained on the junction where his cock is driving deep into you, mesmerised by the glistening slick covering both of your thighs.

Without warning, his slender fingers travel down your body to press at your clit. A gasp rips its way out of your throat and you moan embarrassingly loud, your hips kicking up. “Seonghwa–”

He leans in, his hand still rubbing small circles on your clit, pressing his lips sweetly to yours once again. “Shit, Hwa, you’re too perfect for me. Treating me so well.”

Seonghwa groans and bites your shoulder. “You look so pretty on my cock, my wife. You’d look so pretty full with me dripping out of you. I should show you every day how much I love you, hmm? It’s what you deserve. A pampered life as my wife, the queen by my side.” His teeth sink into your lower lip and his fingers speed up their ministrations.

“Ah– I’m close Seonghwa,” you moan into his mouth, and you can practically feel him smile against your lips.

With one particularly well-delivered thrust, Seonghwa growls, “Come for me, YN.”

Without much further prompting, just a twist of his fingers on your clit, you groan, back arching and your cunt clenching around Seonghwa as you fall over the edge of your orgasm, your husband following soon after. Ropes of searing hot come shoot deep inside of you and you let out a long sigh at the feeling. Seonghwa rests his forehead on yours as his hips slow to a stop, letting your orgasms wash over both of you completely.

You let your body completely relax on the mattress, staring up at the canopy of the bed. When you were preparing for the party, the last thing you expected was to get your brains fucked out by Seonghwa, but you won’t complain. You breathe out and relax, bringing your hand up to brush your fingers through his dark hair.

“Feeling good?” you ask your husband, and Seonghwa laughs, tilting his head up.

“Yeah. Come on, let’s get my lovely wife cleaned up. I have to change the sheets in the meantime.” Seonghwa gets up, stretching a little, and you can’t help but stare at the sliver of waist you see. You can feel his come dribbling out of you and instinctively you clench your thighs although you know you must get up soon enough.

But before you can even make any move to, Seonghwa leans down and scoops you up, carrying you over to your shared bathroom. “Ah– Hwa–” you scold, gripping onto his shoulders. “My legs work!”

Seonghwa laughs, nuzzling into your hair. “Then I should fix that next time.”

You laugh and smack at his shoulder. “Hwa, no, I like being able to move.”

Seonghwa shakes his head but doesn’t respond, just turning on the faucet and sitting you down in the water. “Is this all right for you?” he asks, and you raise an eyebrow.

“Come sit with me too, Hwa. You should get to relax too.”

“Ah, but the sheets,” Seonghwa tries, but you grab the hem of his shirt.

“We can use my quarters, Seonghwa.” You stare up at him with pleading eyes, and you can see him hesitate. “Please, Hwa?”

And just like magic, your words break down Seonghwa’s hesitation and he sighs, unfastening his shirt and throwing off his pants. As he lowers himself behind you, your hand reaches back to steady him.

As the two of you sit in the warm water, you take a chance and lean back against his firm chest. You can feel him stiffen and your breath catches in your throat, but in the end, he just relaxes and throws an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“You know, ever since I saw you on the wedding day, I was happy to have you as my wife,” Seonghwa hums, rocking you back and forth slightly.

You tilt your head up to smile at him sweetly. “And seeing you in your wedding robes looking every bit of a fairy, I was happy to have you as my husband.” Seonghwa leans down to press his lips against yours, brushing your hair behind your ear. You can feel his own smile against your mouth and your eyes flutter shut.

“Let’s stay like this for as long as we can.”

[chaosandmarigolds]

"How are we gonna get up there?"

It was supposed to be an easy midnight to noon shift, one that you could just sleep through the entirety of it. Maybe a transfer or even maaaybe one emergency so you could have fun and drive lights and sirens. But no, turns out your Lieutenant was on shift AND?? your partner had called out so you got some random solider that happened to have their EMT.

So, that is how you ended up with Johnny MacTavish and Lieutenant Riley on your call. Now, that didn't answer the question as to why you were all staring up at a window that was easily ten feet off the ground. It was supposed to be an easy welfare check, house clinic workers had asked for backup so instead of fire and police they had just asked for military. Counterproductive in your mind..

Well the door was locked, and the only window that was somewhat close was the one you were all looking at.

With a huff of air you take a step back, snow crunching under the weight of you and the bright red med slinger over your shoulder, "I dont know, looks like a bathroom window- it's kinda small."

Johnny shrugs, turning his head back to you, "Couldea jus break down the door."

"No no," You frown, unclipped the bag and let it fall, "We...there's gotta be a way we could get in through the garage-"

"Stitches you're going up," the lieutenant then said, not even bothering to look at you. Maybe because he knew your face would be contorted to one of dismay.

You scoff, "What if they're armed?"

"Does it smell like they're armed?" He retorted and to that you fell silent. And no...it didn't seem like the patient inside had the capacity to be .. well...

It took a few minutes of coaching them both on how to push you up, thankfully the window was cracked so it didn't take long to push yourself through- after a moment of a stinging pain in your leg. And then came the fall, of which was onto the lid of the toilet and then onto the floor.

it took a moment of regaining your composure before you realized Johnny was yelling for you, so you reply with a quip, standing as you stretch your newly sore back. "Three years of schooling to be used as a fucking door opener" You mutter as catch the red med bag as it's shoved through the window.

with a small grumble you go to walk through the home, finding the patient laying in their bed. And against odds... alive.

"Hi, I'm a paramedic, some people were worried about ya." You begin, "here, let me let my friends inside and then we can help ya out."

The patient was staring at you, seeming shocked, "How did you get in?"

You clear your throat, "Not important. But...you might was to get your bathroom window resealed."

-

"Damn," your partner laughs the next shift, looking at the black and blues forming on your side and thigh, "you ate shit huh?"

"Not on purpose."

"Yeah, anyway- how was your shift with Lt and Soap?"

"Who the fuck is soap?"

He blinked, "Sergeant Mactavish?"

You gagged on the fourth energy drink of the day and then laugh, "Oh! Yeah it was fine. Lieutenant really likes Blackpink too."

(Based on real events, at least till the end. :p)

[firemenenthusiast]

hi hi! I wanna say I love your writing and love that you’re on the Archie train rn - I do have a lil request so I know most people think Farleigh is like submissive but I would love one where he’s like super dominant and for smut he’s like basically leaves you crying from overstimulation and makes you come a lot but like in a fun way not necessarily toxic (which isn’t bad either but yeah) (((: idk I feel like he’s a switch and could be both dominant and submissive

oh my god dom!farleigh finally out ! thank you so so SO very much anon for being so patient with me and i am incredibly sorry for making you wait this long :’(

—“casual”

dom!farleigh x fem!reader

summary: there’s a reason why you should never talk about farleigh behind his back

warning: 18+, smut, pwp, unprotected sex, rough sex (dom!farleigh), brat tamer! farleigh, free use, degradation kink, farleigh and reader sounds like fuckbuddies, cunnilingus, slapping, name calling (slut & whore) (sorry) (not sorry), praise kink, petnames (baby, sweetheart & doll) oral fixation, face-fucking, mirror sex, cock-slapping, spitting, making out, overstimulation, blowjobs, dacryphilia, throat fucking, mating press, teabagging, facial, cum eating, creampie, cervix fucking, ruined orgasm, foul language, humiliation, aftercare, fluff at the end

a/n: i really hope this is okay with what you’ve imagined anon, as writing dom!farleigh is by far my hardest work yet. literally pondered on this piece for months. enjoy ! teehee <3 also keep reading, it gets better

“can you believe it ? like— im not even asking for much but he’s just so, ugh” the girl sitting over at the end of the couch complains. you’re sitting in a circle, well not quite a circle, but it’s a bunch of girls just lounging, sitting and talking about what’s currently bothering them. and this time, the topic is boyfriends. cliché, but they can really be a pain in the ass according to these girls. you’re not sure if you can relate, given that you do not have a boyfriend. but you do have farleigh, whatever you’re calling him. he’s never bothered to put a label on it, and certainly never bothered to ask you to be his girlfriend. “oh my god yes” you hear one of the girls agreeing, followed by the others nodding and grabbing at each others thighs

“what about you ? i mean, we certainly heard a lot about farleigh” one of the girls asks you, snickering at the end of her sentence. everyone around campus is familiar with how farleigh’s relationships never end peacefully. they always end with a series of drama that apparently everyone is tuned in on. it’s like a ‘what did farleigh do this time ?’ show, that airs every couple of months. the common hall massacre from farleigh’s last hook up is still being talked about till this day and it’s been like what, six months ? you don’t know why even after seeing those messy events where farleigh always looked like he couldn’t care less, you still ended up in his bed at the end of the very party where he first laid his eyes on you. i guess when thee farleigh start shows you even the slightest of interest, you have no other option but to give in. it’s like a once in a lifetime opportunity, and one must be strong enough to resist the temptation of getting with the tall, golden skinned brunette. you— ? you just don’t have it in you.

pursing your lips, you quietly force an awkward smile to yourself, practically eye rolling. ofcourse they would be interested. you shut your eyes for a moment before blinking to every eyes focusing on you. truth be told, you dont like talking about farleigh to people, especially to answer invasive questions like this. you already feel so insecure with whatever kind of relationship you have with farleigh, so having people try to peek into it puts you in a very uncomfortable position. “what about him ?” you raise your eyebrows with your question-response in a desperate attempt to push farleigh off the topic. “girl how’s your boyfriend ? is he great or…” one of the girls tease, flipping her hair over her shoulder, trying her best to provoke an answer from you, preferrably a piece of gossip that she could spread to her girlfriends at uni.

“he’s not my boyfriend” you let out quietly, head low, correcting their assumptions that it’s an established relationship, earning a swarm of mutter from throughout the group. some of them already exhanging knowing looks and giggling to each other. well isn’t this just humiliating. “how come ?” the blonde serves you with yet another question, tone obvious that she’s just mongering for gossip. the sudden light dust prickling at your eyeballs are being wiped away by a heavy blink from you. all these questions evoke a sudden rage from within. she’s right. yeah, how come ? how come you’ve been letting farleigh fuck you anytime he wants when he doesn’t ever bother to make you his girlfriend. you’ve realised a long ago that it’s unlikely that you’re gonna be a couple but everyone seems to think the two of you are exclusive by the way none of you have been caught fucking anyone else.

noticing your expression, she decides to spare you the humiliation and just move on to her next question even though the former hasn’t been answered. the situation is making you awfully quiet, and it’s not just because you barely knew any of these girls, you just thought sitting with them in this mild get-together at farleigh’s mansion might offer you some sort of entertainment. never have you thought that you’re the one who’s gonna be the entertainment. the thick buzz at the top of your head confuses you between the exhaustion of talking to obnoxious young adults invited tonight or the weariness of knowing that you’re just a toy to farleigh. at first you didn’t really care, but after a while the boy’s starting to grow on you. sometimes he does care, the way he always walk you back to your dorm after a long night of doing your activities. but most of the times you tell yourself that it’s just common courtesy, and he could be doing that to any girl he wants.

“ah fuck that, how’s the sex ?” was her other question, which was followed by daunting whoops of teasings from the girls. still, every pair of eyes is set on you and it’s gotta be on the top list of your most uncomfortable situation. however the unusual bitterness towards farleigh at the moment gags your desire to shit talk about him to these girls. as you search for something bad to say, you realise that you don’t have anything to complain. guess you’d just have to lie then. straightening your shoulders and throwing your neck back, you lean your back on your propped up arms against the floor.

“have you ever heard that he’s good in bed from anyone ?” you start, which earns eager head shakes from the girls.

“well that’s because he fucking sucks. cums too fast, and guess what ? you’d think he’d atleast bother to make the girl-“ you gesture to yourself, “-cum first, but that’s none of his business it seems” the small piece of information being sought out to the public like that leaves the girls wide-eyed, with some of them dramatically placing their palms against their chest. you feel horrible for lying, and it just registered in your head that this will go terribly wrong knowing that it’ll spread around like an infection. “oh my god. really ?” the blonde attempts to fuel to the fire mid-burning the whole place down, her blue eyes almost popping out of her head, gouging for more info from you.

nodding, you catch yourself feeding her with yet another lie. “fucking sloppy, is what he is. moans like a bitch too. i should’ve been fucking his cousin by now, which, i don’t even know why i haven’t” the last part of this whole unbased shit talk feels too much for you, as you mentally wince at how untrue just all the things you said. the whole room is filled with various sounds of gasping, giggling and overall indefinable mutters. if you were being honest, you’re still not going to tell them how you’re willing to beg for his cock, telling him to make you his cum dump, as long as you get to be fucked by him. you raise your head to examine each of their faces, subtly biting on your bottom lips at their reactions.

it was a small get-together afterall, so you wouldn’t be suprised that some of the hallways in the house are ominously empty at this hour. you could still hear a distinct chatter and music from behind the other walls but as you briskly walk towards the left wing of the mansion, your wrist is suddenly being grabbed from behind, before your whole body is being caged against the wooden wainscot on the wall, pair of huge palms snaking themselves across your forearms. “farleigh—“ you huff out, neck craned to give access to the pair of lips trailing hot, wet kisses across your skin. the tall figure caging and pressing against your body is making you whimper out a small moan, to which he lets out a chuckle. you always make it so easy for him.

wrapping his fingers around your wrist in a firm grab, he brings them above your head before moving his lips towards your soft ones, a string of saliva shining on the flesh with each breath the both of you are taking. his touches grazes your skin delicately, dragging you into becoming an addict. you suck in a deep breath through your nose as you return the kiss, tongue darting to lick on his bottom ones, earning a smile from him. “i’ve missed you” he teases, while running his fingertips along your waistband, knowing the two of you only parted ways when his friendgroup approached him, which later lead you to the wrongful confessions with the girls earlier. words like these makes you long for his affection, spending your sleepless nights thinking about the feelings you may or may not have caught for him. he huffs out against your face, forehead resting against each other as you feel his hot breath on your skin. he leans down to chase your lips for yet another kiss, your noses nudging against each other only for him to hover over your lips with a teasing grin, making you grow desperate from the phantom kiss.

his large hands rest on the curve of your waist when you push him back by his broad chest, both your fingers sprawled over the fabric of his linen. he’s ridiculously good at maintaining his balance all while being pushed back with his head leaning down, still kissing you, his pretty curls grazing the skin on your cheeks. he’s so pretty, the type of pretty that makes you want to look at him all day, the type of pretty that you’d fall for. the way he kisses you could make anyone believe that he’s in love, yet he never cared to let you know, or tell you that this is just a fling for him. you already know where this is going, as you were on your way to find him in his room anyways. you let out a small giggle when he almost toppled back over a bump on the carpet, before he joins you with a low chuckle against your lips.

“c’mon, farleigh—“ whining, you’re half begging for him to just pick you up and carry you to his bed, which, like he could read you mind, he does. “i know, baby”. you’re clinging onto him with your legs wrapped around his waist, your hands cupping his face to deepen the kiss as you feel the growing bulge poking at your thighs. humming into the kiss, he pulls away momentarily to lean you against the wooden door of his room, turning the both of you to hold you against the door, forcing it to shut, all while his tongue licks your taste off yours.

you could feel his desperation grow from his kiss as your fingers work eagerly unbuttoning his shirt. he fumbles with the back of your dress, reaching to undo the string, heavy pants escaping both your lips, practically clawing at each other. after peeling the linen off his shoulder and pulling it down to throw it on the floor, you watch him move recklessly. “fucking get this off” he groans, as you reach to the back to help him. everything is moving so fast, and you glad it does as it seems to be impossible to remain patient with each of farleigh’s touch against your skin. it’s like a craving, an addiction, as desperation fills the thick air inside the room more then the hot breath puffing from your lips.

as soon as you’re left only with the matching set of underwear, farleigh wastes no time picking you back up to throw you on the bed, his body flush against yours as his kisses down your body are starting to get wet. between his fingers raking around your waist and his mouth sucking on the skin of your collarbone leaving wet bruises all across it, you feel yourself getting lost in the haziness, unable to mutter a single coherent sentence. all that could be let out past your lips are whines and moans, as your fingertips graze against his scalp, pulling at the root of his curls. you feel helpless, exposed and needy for him and only him, to do something. once you feel his lips kissing dangerously close to your cunt, sucking and licking especially hard on the flesh of your inner thighs, you find yourself reaching for his face. “farleigh please,,” you let out pleas after pleas, begging for his lips to be where you need him the most. paying no mind to you, he continues placing his marks across your inner thigh and the spot closest to the hem of your panties with his palms smoothing over the skin on your torso.

he’s humming in between kisses, his eyes rips themselves from focusing on marking your skin to look directly into yours, maintaining eye contact. if it wasn’t for the growing bulge in his pants, he’d be willing to spend the rest of his time just looking into your eyes. tilting his head down, he pushes the crotch of your panties to the side, breaking eye contact for a moment to look at the dripping mess in front of him, grinning at how soaked your folds are, making your eyebrows knit. the way your pussy glisten with your wetness gotta be one of his favourite views ever. feeling the ache down your core starts to throb, you can’t help the pitchy moan slipping past your lips and the sudden bucking of your hips into his face. “don’t make me beg farleigh, please” the words coming out of your mouth contradicting each other. before you could add to your complaints, you feel his swollen lips smashing against your folds, his tongue hot, licking away all the wetness collecting and dripping towards your hole. he has one hand holding you down by your waist, and another rubbing on your pussy, spreading the folds apart so his tongue could have better access. the fingers on your pussy roam down to your hole, pushing your clit upwards so he could settle his whole face in between your thighs, his nose repeatedly nudging against your clit. driving his face into your pussy, it’s like he’s stuffing his face with your essence, eager to lick away every drop of wetness dripping down your folds as he feels like nothing tastes better. he hums, sending vibrations through the sensitive nerves, fishing out another whine from you.

“gonna cum, farleigh. please make me cum” the words come out of your mouth like water, without you even having time to think it before. as the knot in your lower stomach begins to get tighter with each sucking of his lips on your folds, he knows you’re seconds away from cumming. you could feel the wave of pleasure threatening to wash down over you, as you’re willing to give up everything to chase after it, even your dignity. shutting your eyes, your fingers harshly grab at the sheets beneath you, as farleigh suddenly rips his mouth away from your pussy, moving over to stand at the edge of the bed, his eyes busy eyeing his hands that are unbuckling his belt. “what the fuck—?!” you almost yelled, anger and dissatisfaction tearing through your voice as you look at farleigh in disbelief. the orgasm that you were chasing is washing away, leaving your pussy feeling so raw and swollen.

he throws you an unbothered look with an eyebrow quirked, his lips shiny from eating you out. “sorry, apparently i’m just not bothered to let the girl cum first” the coy expression on his face obvious, the slight curl at the side of his lips quickly being stripped away. “—isn’t that right ?” he continues, leaning over with his knee dipping into the mattress, his propped arm settling beside your temple, his face inches away from your muted one. the furrowed eyebrows that were accompanying your anger dropped down, as your glossy eyes now being forced to look into his intimidating ones. you could feel that he’s not happy, but none of his expressions tell that, except that you’re fucked.

you hear him let out a chuckle as he leans back, both his knees on either side of your body, resting his weight on your torso. “you should see the look on your face sweetheart” he tsks, shaking his head at you heavy breathing, still affected by the orgasm that he just ripped off from your core. no words could be lolled out of your tongue and you could only shake your head as an attempt to save yourself. he cocks his head to the side before his eyes widen,

“no, i mean it”

moving his knee over your body, farleigh moves to the side of the bed before reaching over to cup the back of your neck, pulling you up to push you off the bed by your neck, forcing you to sit infront of the body sized mirror by his nightstand. you’re kneeling, your hands are forced to prop yourself up from face planting on the hard floor, ass is sticking out on full display giving him the perfect view. oh how he loves when you’re exposed like this for him and no one else.

before you could even react to being pulled off the bed, his fingers already curl themselves across your skin, wrapped around your neck, pulling you upstraight so you could only look at your reflection in the mirror, and his smug face while he crouches down. “look at yourself, such a pretty face-“ he starts, fingers moving to push your cheeks together, his arms pressing down your chest so you’re resting against his shoulder.

“-but so. fucking. dumb.” he says, tapping roughly on your cheek after each words.

the last part of his sentence heavy, emphasizing on how stupid you are that you couldn’t even think before going off telling people such lies. “you know what i love to do with a pretty face that doesn’t know when to shut up ?” he trails off, letting go off your face to continue unbuckling his belt, the metal of the buckle clinking, before unbuttoning and pulling the zipper down.

“as if you know when to shut up” you spit out, trying to retaliate against his words.

he offers you an amused look before shaking his head and smile. “i love when you prove me right“ farleigh chuckles as he looks up to meet your eyes in the mirror, before pulling down his pants, along with his boxers, making his now fully hard length that was straining in his pants spring up, hitting the trail of hair on his lower belly. no matter how many times you’ve seen and been fucked by him, you still think he’s huge. he’s perfectly girthy, his tip always flushes a deep shade of pink and his cock’s just as pretty as him.

he steps closer towards you, reaching down to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail before pulling you up, forcing you to stand on your knees. he looks at you with that grin you could never crack the meaning of, as you watch his other hand move to grab the base of his cock. his firm grip pulling at your scalp leaves you quiet, as you could only glance between his face, and the leaking cock in his hand. with your head in his one hand and his heavy length in the other, your eyes are on the same level of his waist where you could hear the loud sound of him spitting into his hand, as it lands on his length. the lewd, loud squelching sound of him stroking saliva all over his cock right beside your face makes you clench around nothing

sighing, he pulls your face towards his crotch before starting to slap his hard cock against your cheek. you’re starting to feel degraded to a mere sextoy with the way he’s smearing his cock all over your face, the sensitive tip tapping at your swollen lips. his long digits wrapped around the base serves a great purpose of aiming his slick length so it slaps heavy against your face, bouncing against the skin again and again, omitting loud slapping sounds. “i don’t even know what i’ve ever done to you-“ he starts, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“-but you don’t talk about me that way, baby”

he stops the slapping of his cock to wipe it all over your face instead, repeatedly moving his shaft over your nose as it makes him groan in pleasure. your pretty face is covered with the slick of saliva and precum, you hair a mess and sticking all over your face. as soon as he finishes his sentence, your entire reflection on the mirror is being blocked by his legs stepping in front of you, so he could roughly shove his hard cock past your lips, pushing it down your throat. the sudden pressure at the back of your tongue makes you gag, as tears start forming on your waterline. you’re starting to regret the things you said just for the one minute of validation. farleigh has never done anything like this to you, but you know this is not going to end anytime soon.

“shh…shh- it’s okay, im just gonna fuck this mouth slow and nice. is that good ?” he coos, his hips begins thrusting into your mouth, starting nice and slow before quickly changing to a rapid pace in a split second, not allowing you to adjust at all. he’s now properly fucking your mouth, and if you didn’t already feel like a cocksleeve, you certainly do now.

“there you go, you’ve always been so good at sucking my cock. you’re a proper slut you know that ?” he mutters through gritted teeth, both his large hands cradling your head, slamming your face down his cock, heavy balls slapping against your slicked chin from all the drool dripping down your lips. looking up at him, you try to blink away the glossiness of your eyes as you give him an obeying look, seeking for his approval. “oh that’s cute, you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” the whiny moans you’re letting out sends vibrations, further stimulating his cock. “aww mouth too full of cock you can’t even answer” giving you a fake pout on his lips, he pulls out for a moment to let you answer, yet you’re keeping your mouth shut. “i said-“ he yanks your hair as he leans down close to your face, “-you’re my little slut aren’t you ?” you almost topple back before nodding vigorously,

“yes, yes—“

“yes what ?”

“yes i am, farleigh”

your quick response earns a satisfied grin from him before your mouth is back to being stuffed by his hard cock. you try your best not to gag too hard on his length as you know farleigh wouldn’t appreciate that. even with him treating you like you’re worthless, you’re still eager to please him. maybe you are indeed a slut. his slut.

the rapid movements of your head bobbing down his shaft and his hips thrusting into your mouth makes your hands roam up his thighs for leverage, as you look up at him through your lashes. he thinks you look so cute like this, so he offers you a smile from above, the tip of your nose hitting into his lower belly repeatedly. you could feel his thrust getting even faster before one last throw of his head and he’s pushing your mouth off his cock, messy strings of saliva connecting from your lips to his swollen tip, his balls dripping with sticky translucent substance that you couldn’t even tell. could be drool, or precum, or a mixture of both of your fluids. his cock is now resting against his navel, as it bounces with every move farleigh makes. he’s now pulling you up by your arms, the state of you so pathetic that if it were to be described, you’re nothing short of fucked and cockdrunk.

“c’mon sweetheart, hands and knees. need to fuck your pussy” his instructions loud and clear, as your body is being thrown like a doll onto the mattress. and like it’s instinct you immediately crawl onto the bed and prop your ass up, your legs apart, back arching with your face dropped down between the sheets. “i know you’re a good girl” he smiles, hands roaming across the smooth skin of your ass before swiftly pulling down your panties, revealing your soaking wet puffy lips, practically begging to be fucked. “well that’s a sight felix is certainly missing out on” the sight before him makes his cock twitch, a drop of precum forming at the tip before he catches it in his fingers to spread it along his length. getting onto the mattress, his pants already discarded and pooling beside the bed.

he crawls over you to rub his length against your folds, collecting the wetness that’s practically drenching his cock, before thrusting into your hole without warning. a cracked loud moan from your lips grazes both your ears as you give up against the sheets, your sobs being muffled by the soft fabric underneath you. he’s not in the mood of making you feel good as he’s only focused on fucking the dumb out of you and letting his anger out. he’s making you take his cock like a good girl he knows you are, as you struggle to adjust to the stretch of his size. he’s angry, well more like irritated, when he walked by the living room looking for you, only to hear you talking shit about him, and telling pathetic lies with no substance. there hasn’t been one fuck where farleigh doesn’t make you cum first, and he certainly fucks you like nobody else. so when you went off feeding those plastic blondes fake gossip just to appeal to them, of course he’s mad.

his large chest is now pushing down against your back, his large hand found it’s way at the back of your neck, holding your head down that your face is being mushed against the sheets. his harsh thrusts push your body back and forth, your face pressed down so hard to the point that the only sound you could let out are heavy cries and sobs, incoherent mumbles of pleads of his name as you’re being brought to your orgasm while he’s still rapidly fucking into you. “farleigh— mngh,, ohmygod“ in a way you sound like you’re worshipping him, while he’s ball deep inside your cunt, the tip of his cock bruising your cervix.

normally he would help you chase your high down but he doesn’t care. “i’ve never made you cum huh ? you can cum all you want now baby” his words are starting to get to you, as your pussy’s starting to feel so raw. another wave of orgasm come crashing down, leaving you a lightheaded babbling mess. you’re now actually crying for him, tears streaming down your face, shoulders bobbing, as both tears and drool wet the sheets underneath. “no more,, please. s’too much” you manage to let out weakly, your fingers gripping at the poor fabric desperately. suddenly you feel like he’s grown much larger than he usually does.

looking at your fucked up state, he let out a chuckle. “but i thought you wanted this ?” he mocks, he knows that you’re just too fucked up to even make up your mind. you feel so stretched out by his girth, and the position grants him the perfect access to fully fuck his cock into your pussy, thrusting forward in a rough rapid pace into the mattress. “you think felix could fuck you like this ?” he groans, making you shake your head desperately almost like you’re being hypnotised. “n-no,,no- hm“ you let out in response, your voice bumpy from his thrusts that are making your whole body shake. the whole situation is feeding the primal urge in him, as he grunts while biting down the skin at the back of your neck, his hand grabbing at your hair, pulling your head back to lift your face off the drool-drenched sheets. his other hand is holding you close by your stomach, lowering his hand to feel the moving bulge on your lower belly.

“feel that ? that’s my cock- so… fucking deep inside you. so maybe next time you wanna talk shit, fuck-“ he half whispers into your ear through gritted teeth, as his thrusts are starting to falter. both your hot cheeks are being pressed together as he talks right into your ear. “-remember how pathetic you look right now” he finishes off his sentence with one hard thrust, his hot body pressing down against yours before warm sticky substance fills up your hole, drops of it threatening to spill from the brim. you feel his chest resting on your back, he’s catching his breath as he pants into your ear with his hand wrapped around your neck.

“oh fuck,,” he lets out, voice thick with his remaining pants as he watch the cum oozing out of your cunt when he pull his softening cock out. he’s leaning back on his heels, admiring his work, ropes of white leaking down your puffy swollen lips, a low groan escapes his lips when he notices your hole clenching around nothing, pushing out more of his cum. smiling, he reaches over to squeeze your thigh, grabbing at the soft flesh. “such a filthy whore, letting me use this pussy like a toy” he lets out, his words making you feel so dirty. “aren’t you, baby ?” he coos, running his fingers across your chin. letting out a huge content sigh before hearing you mumble out a string out words. “what’s that, hm ?” leaning down, he moves closer to your lolled out face to hear you.

“you came too quick” you struggled to let out those words, yet still determined to try and piss him off.

raising his eyebrows, he seems surprised by your little protest before you feel his fingers slowly smooth over your hair, petting your head.

“i know. and that’s your job to get me hard again”

hearing his words, instant remorse washing over you as you feel him flip you over, that you’re now lying on your back, facing him. he looks even bigger, shoulders broad and glistening in sweat, making you feel like he could cage you in any moment now. his cheeks look flushed and red, his lips pink and swollen yet he never looked prettier. your hands immediately move up to hold onto his thighs, now being on either side of your upper body as his cock is hanging right in front of your face. the remainder of his cum that is clinging onto his tip drips down, landing onto your lips before his fingers push your cheeks open, shoving his cock into your mouth as he tries to fit the whole length inside.

his limp cock feels odd on your tongue at first, but you immediately start sucking on his length. “come on, doll” he urges you, eager to be able to fuck you again. you mentally flinch at the name he’s calling you, as it really makes you feel filthy. deep down you absolutely love filling your mouth full, and sucking on his cock. anything to please farleigh. he’s thrusting his hips down to your face, circling it so now it’s his balls turn to be shoved into your mouth, before being absolutely slobbered with saliva. in no time he’s getting hard again, making it easier for him to fuck into your mouth, only to pull it out and replace it with his balls again, and doing so repeatedly until he feels just. you have your eyes closed, your lips busy fondling and kissing at each of his sack, your tongue covering them with drool.

farleigh is holding onto the headboard, grunts spilling from his mouth from how good you’re worshipping his cock. as he tilt his head down, he can’t help the moan slipping past his lips at you sucking at the underside of his balls. now that he’s fully hard again, he reaches down to grab at the base of his shaft before putting the entire heavy weight of it onto your face, rubbing his length all over your soft skin, like he did earlier.

too weak to form coherent sentences to him, you manage to drag out a mumbled “please…farleigh”. you hear him let out a satisfied hum as you close your eyes, letting the feeling of his wet cock sliding on your face takes control. the length of his cock almost covering your face as he’s contemplating just fucking his cock against the skin of your face into nothing. everything’s just so wet now, his sweaty body against yours, your face warm and sticky with sweat, tears and his cum, with his balls dripping with your drool. you’re too cockdrunk to even protest, letting him use you like a cum rag, wiping the cum off his cock on your skin, your pussy throbbing from another orgasm you just had undone just from how lewd this is.

“you make such a good whore, y’know ? im gonna need to fuck your pussy again” almost immediately after saying that, he’s lifting your upper body up, making you sit while he moves behind you to let your frail body rest against his. “let me have one last fuck okay ?” he whispers into your ear, your eyelids heavy as you slowly nod. his fingers tap at your thigh, signalling you to raise your hips. he has one arm wrapped around you, pulling you up onto his lap as you feel the tip of his hard cock slip back into your cunt with the guide of his other hand. you’re now sitting on his lap, legs bent and all spread out to give access to him. he could feel the stickiness of his cum left inside you engulfing his length, that is reaching deeper, bumping into your cervix. ”fuck, could feel my cum inside you—” the stretch of his cock against your wall is squeezing his cum back out of your hole as low moans escape both of your lips. he begins thrusting at a continued pace, much like before, making your body bounce on his lap. you let out a high pitched moan, your folds still swollen as you mumble out “m’too much farleigh- no more,, please” he ignores your whines and moans, fucking up into you like he’s been starved of it.

he reaches up to grope your tits, that have fallen out of your bra when he was ramming into you earlier. this is the first time tonight that farleigh’s even bothered to touch your nipples as he normally would’ve been too attached to sucking on your mounds by now. the lack of attention to your hard nipples got them too sensitive as you feel like screaming when farleigh tweaks one of them in between his fingers. he’s cupping one of your tits in his large hand while the other one bounces hard with each of his rapid thrusts up your sensitive walls. the sound of your ass slapping against his thighs fills the room as you start to feel your maybe 5th orgasm coming, having lost count- as his thrusts suddenly stop. “nooo,, no- please don’t make me” you start whining at the sudden stop of his movements, shaking your head helplessly to try to get him to change his mind. you know this move so well, he always make you do it when you’re on his lap.

he’s gonna make you fuck yourself on his cock.

“you know the drill pretty girl” his voice firm, not leaving any space for your antics. your head resting against his shoulder feels too heavy to be lifted off, but that’s just you being a brat. you show no signs of moving, with your arms flailing weakly in his embrace. you hear him let out a sigh before being followed by a low groan, lifting you off his lap and flipping you over. you’re now sprawled open in front of him, cold air grazing across your pussy makes you shiver. he pushes his weight down against your thighs with his hands, putting you in a mating press. all you got to do was let out a gasp before a harsh slap from his large hand stings across your face. “i gave you plenty of chances-” he lets out as you feel another slap lands on your cheek

“-but you never seem to appreciate them”

another slap. and another.

you’re moaning, enjoying being treated so harshly by him. as your tears stained cheeks turn red and a new stream of tears are threatening to spill, you try begging for mercy with a weak attempt, “mmh- please, farleigh,,”. your final whiny plea is immediately being cut short by another slap, this one stings especially hard, making you think that he hates you. he’s now grabbing at the flesh at the back of your thighs, fully pressing your thighs against your tits, before his hips start thrusting into your pussy again. wet, squelching sound bouncing off the walls as your wetness start splattering all over the sheets. the shame and humiliation makes you start sobbing again, your breathing heavy as you struggle to take his cock that’s protruding against your walls.

he notices your heavy breathing, yet he has no intentions of slowing down. “you’re breathing like you’re doing all the work, fuck— “ you hear him say. his thrusts after doesn’t last long before he immediately pulls out, his hand quickly reaching down to continue the pressure on his cock. “oh fuck. fuck, fuck—“, strings of curses leave his mouth. stroking his shaft with a tight fist, his pace rapid, desperate and sloppy before his hips begin to fuck into his fist, his balls slapping against his knuckles. “fffuck, fuck yes-” staggering moans spill out of his mouth, making him look pathetic. his voice almost cracks before he’s moving up your body, his hand still pumping his cock rapidly before he’s cumming, spurting warm seed all over your pretty face. it’s not as much as before, but your face’s still covered by his cum, your tongue licking away the drops landing on your lips. you hear him let out a deep sigh, heavy panting before collapsing onto your body.

inspecting his actions closely, your mind still hazy, your face messy with tear stained cheeks, with some still clinging onto your lashes. farleigh had wiped the remnants of his cum off your face, it was the first thing he did after coming back with a bowl of warm fresh water and a piece of cloth. he’s already dressed in his comfy clothes, carefully cleaning your skin with the warm soft cloth. he’s meticulous, like he always is with everything. you look to the side to see a glass of water and a mini chocolate bar that he’d fetched when he left the room which to be honest, you thought he was gonna leave you, all alone and still fragile. looking out the window, the sky’s already starting to gain its light as it’s starting to look a lighter shade of blue. he’s quiet, eyes focused as only his fingers are moving carefully, cleaning off every inch of your body. just as he makes sure you’re all clean and comfortable, you’re surprised when he crawls up closely beside you, snuggling down as he reaches for the soft comforter to wrap the both of you underneath it.

“i thought you were gonna leave”

“not gonna leave my girlfriend alone”

the name hits you like a boulder making you perk up, eyebrows knitted as you realised that you were never his girlfriend. you turn to face him who’s already near dozing off,

“please go to sleep” he mutters out his last words before dozing off for real, pulling you closer into his arms.

taglist: @r4vn @love-me-pls @radioloom @farleighlover @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha @luckystrikerealness @juniperhasfallen @themoonchildwhofell @khxna @fuckshitslover @szapizzapanda @inglourious-imagines

dividers by: @rookthornesartistry

[nthee]

I DON'T KNOW IF I'MA SEE YOU AGAIN . . .

summary: a slight, or well, not-so-slight blunder led to the unfortunate events of him losing his memory — his memory of you and anything related to you.

characters: riddle roseherts, silver, lilia vanrouge

contains: angst with a bit of fluff, gender-neutral mc (uses second person view aka "you"), the reader blushes (described to be flushed)

notes: title is from see you again hehe :) i just thought it kind of had amnesia trope vibes idkkk dont ask me why atp, inspo comes from anywhere fr. also SURPRISE IM BACK let's ignore the fact that it's been 5 months tho i was so burnt out :(

⌗ RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

“Let me help you with that. [...] What? You're staring.”

“Ah, it's... it's nothing, sorry.”

The close proximity is enough to make you go insane. Perhaps it's better if you just took the time to actually fix your tie this morning. That way, he wouldn't be so close! So close that...

Oh Seven, what if he hears my heartbeat?! Ack, calm down, calm down! I don't want to scare him of, what if he thinks it's — I'm creepy?!

“You seem flushed, [Name]. Are you alright?” his movement stills while holding onto your tie, and you mentally facepalm.

Riddle's hand makes its way to your forehead, the back of his hand pressing onto your skin, before realizing he's wearing gloves. He clears his throat at the mistake, opting to feel your temperature using the back of his wrist — the exposed skin between his sleeve and glove.

“Temperature is normal... a little bit warm, but nothing serious.”

“I'm alright! It's nothing, really.”

Too close, too close, too close!

Riddle retracts back, almost as if he could hear your pleas. He sighed, clearing his throat as his eyes wander around — look everywhere, anywhere but them, Riddle.

“I should — ah, we should get to class...” you reminded. You mirror his actions, averting your gaze.

“Right. Class.”

He offers an arm, one that you graciously take without a second thought. “Let me escort you there. I did hold you off for several minutes.”

Excuses! Riddle's mind yells. You're falling for them!

He doesn't care in the slightest — just as long as you're there to catch him. Though he knew you for a grand total of five days, he knows you'll be there.

⌗ SILVER

“Have I... met you before? I have, haven't I?”

A bittersweet laugh escapes your lips, startling Silver in front of you. You pull yourself together, smiling as you gaze into his eyes — the same eyes you'd lose yourself in, letting the time pass doing just that.

“Once upon a dream, right? That's what you were going to say?” you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye, thankful you laughed first before the waterworks arrived. Thank goodness, he can't see me sad.

Silver's eyes brightened, his eyelashes fluttering in disbelief. “It's... it's you. I meet you in my dreams! Everytime I close my eyes, I... I see you.”

His hands are softly holding yours as he speaks, his thumb tracing your skin delicately — like you were glass, or a treasure. It's enough to make you swoon, just as he's always done before.

“Don't leave my side.”

He thinks it's selfish to ask that from a stranger. But you are no stranger. You know the truth, but he suspects it's destiny — that you've actually met, talked, danced before, only well, it was in his very own dreamland.

You can feel the tears again. Maybe this isn't so bad? Or, at the very least, this isn't the end.

“I wouldn't even think of it.”

⌗ LILIA VANROUGE

“Are you a friend of Silver's? I don't think I've seen you around before.”

Those words were uttered before you could even process the initial news of Lilia's predicament — before your heart could even let it sink in.

You could only choke back the words threatening to slip off your tongue, lest it sound like utter crap to someone who just lost his memories.

You and I are more than friends. You play— well, played lighthearted tricks on me. I fell for them. I fell for you.

“You... could say that,” was all you could muster up. There was no point in explaining more, he wouldn't understand them.

There was understanding to his nod, a subconscious feeling of something nestled deep in his heart.

“Are you troubled? You seem to be.” his tone is soft, yet firm. Lilia had always been that way; a mentor, father (or, father-like to ones who don't know he was actually one), shoulder to cry on, wise fae to depend on...

A lover. Was a lover.

Now, all was left was Lilia before he even got to know you.

Lilia Vanrouge, a schoolmate of yours, once again.

← | © nthee, do not repost, plagiarize, translate, adapt, and use my work in anything that associates directly with ai.

[cloudcountry]

Eeee requests are open for Rollo!! Ahem.

So ever since I watched a playthrough of the GloMas event, I always had this idea in my head where Rollo and Yuu (or in this case, the reader) are dancing in the ballroom. But Yuu/Reader knew Rollo's connection to what happened with the Crimson flowers (?) and they disliked him for it. But they also don't have a choice but to dance with him to avoid conflict.

I was obsessed with Enemies to Lovers by Joshua Kyan Aalampour at that time so it kinda influenced the idea hehe

Thank you and take a good rest after this!! <3333

SUMMARY: you're trapped in a fearful waltz with the man you hate.

WARNINGS: none!!

COMMENTS: COOKIE THAT PIECE IS BEAUTIFUL........readers if you wnat to listen to something while you read please listen to it its so good and made my writing flow so easily omg

i havent played the full event so if some parts dont make sense thats why!! im only going off of some spoilers ive seen so if you havent seen any spoilers for this event tread carefully i guess!!

Your hands shake as the man in front of you takes them, his stare cold and triumphant. He knows he’s won this battle, that you have to dance in order to preserve Night Raven’s reputation or risk making yourself look bad. He knows he’s won and it kills you inside. You have half a mind to step on his toes but you decide against it.

His hand grasps your waist and sweeps you into a waltz. You hold back a violent shudder at the touch of a madman, your heart pitter-pattering like the ashes against the cobblestone paths. Rollo sighs, almost like he’s relaxed, like he’s enjoying this dance with you.

You could not agree less.

“Are you having fun?” he asks, words laced with a mocking poison.

You seeth, but keep your mouth closed. You will not give him anything to use against you. The dance continues as the orchestra hits another crescendo, and bile crawls up your throat when Rollo spins you and dips you in accordance with the music.

He’s a delightful dance partner, although you loath to admit it. If he wasn’t so unpleasant to be around and didn’t actively put the people you loved in danger, you may have enjoyed this moment.

That thought vanishes the second you see his face and the ugly smirk that adorns it. You hate this. You hate this and you hate him. You hate having to rely on your magical peers to drag you away from Rollo, even though they can’t right now because this dance is supposed to signify goodwill.

It doesn’t matter how much Deuce hates to see you uncomfortable, or how much Jamil takes in your partner's body language to make sure he isn’t planning anything nefarious, or how hard Azul clenches his fists in displeasure or how much Grim wants to bite his ankles or how much Malleus wants to rip Rollo’s hands off of you because they would ruin everything if they did and that’s simply not an option any of them can take anymore.

And so you dance.

You dance and you can’t wait for it to be over.

[bunny-1111]

Slytherin party, *Theo's gf edition*

...

green lights transform the smaller half of the common room

the tables used in the afternoon for books and studying are now flooded with spilt drinks, open bottles, empty cups, half rolled j's and burnt-out cigarettes

body heat suffocated the room regardless of the season

if there's one thing the schools' snakes knew how to do, it was party

hard, every fkn weekend

there were hushed whispers between other houses, most trying to desperately receive an extended invitation

by the time the night had slithered into the earliest hours of the morning, music would shake the walls surrounding, spells enchanting the volume so the teachers wouldn't hear

the glass over the black lake would shake so hard you were certain if magic wasn't protecting its structure, it would shatter

double shots with Pansy, followed by biting into a lime

Theodore pulling you onto the dance floor by your hips, dancing on him, your arm gripping his hair, his hands draped over your lower body

Matteo and Lorenzo frantically running around, booze in hand, laughing as loud as the music

Draco, standing on the table, watching the night play out

Blaise rolling a blunt, Pansy lazily sitting on his lap

while you continue to dance, Theo snatches a bottle out off Enzo, hand on your neck, pouring the cold liquor down your throat

stumbling through broken glass that painted the floors, kicking away empty cups to clear your path

the decorations that were once on clean mantels were now scattered, half missing, half broken

statues that adorned the room now dressed with school scarfs and someones lost pair of glasses

cigarettes lit with a borrowed lighter, smoke melting into your lungs

head pounding, night ending, stumbling to the dorms, some passed out in the hallway, some still partying hard till the early morning

Theodore navigates you back to his dorm, a firm hand on the lower of your back as the two of you retire for the night

waking up with a hangover, tripping over your own feet, quickly getting dressed, haistly waking up Theo, attempting to get to the great hall for breakfast

gulping coffee down just as you had down alcohol last night, the thought of it almost nauseating

running to class on time to not have professors suspect the events that ended just a frightful hours ago

Theo smirking at you throughout the class, his eyes saying, 'dont forget how good our bedroom afterparty was.'

[mononijikayu]

no more sad songs for my broken heart — gojo satoru.

Swallowing back the bitter taste rising in your throat, you steadied yourself and turned your gaze to Satoru, watching him sleep peacefully. The room was hushed, filled only with the soft rustling of fabric and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"You're the most important to me, Satoru." you whispered, your voice a fragile whisper in the quiet night. The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a love that defied death itself. "And you always will be."

Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence

Warning/s: Romance, Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, An Pining, Emotional Hurt, Depression, Ghost, Trauma, PTSD, Depiction of Funeral, Depiction of Trauma, Mentions of Alcohol, Depiction of Alcoholism, Depiction of Depression, Depiction of Ghost, Depiction of PTSD illusions, Gojo Satoru deserves a Hug™

masterlist

song: no more sad song for my broken heart by k.will

note: the fact that we waited years and years for a sequel to please dont mv and k.will decided to give us a heartbreak on PRIDE MONTH??? but i shouldnt be speaking because i saw that mv and thought holy shit, satoru definitely went through it and held my breath for a whole week until i could write it on my free time. anyway, ill be disappearing again cause exams !!! but i will be back soon ~ i love you all <3

HE NEVER EXPECTED THIS TO END THIS WAY. Gojo Satoru stood silently in front of the floral arrangement, the vibrant colors contrasting starkly with the somberness of the ihai before him. He lowered himself gracefully, bowing deeply in a gesture of respect and remembrance. Carefully, he lit three incense sticks, their thin spirals of smoke curling upwards, filling the air with a calming fragrance. 

The silence, the lonesomeness of the room — he’d never expected it before. If he was being honest, Satoru never liked the quiet. It was hard to be alone in the realm of thoughts that burden him. But there’s nothing he could do about it. No one was here other than the funerary staff. And even then, they were all scattered around this dingy property. 

As he stood up, his gaze fell momentarily on his watch, the cracked glass dial. He doesn’t think he’d ever have it fixed. He wanted to let it be, let it rest at that moment. It was better, a reminder for him about a time that had long been frozen in time. The hands were stuck at 19:42 pm, a constant reminder of a past event he couldn't change. His cerulean blues was intense against the broken clock from the darkness of those round rim frames. 

Everyone else had already come, he supposed. But it was perhaps most poignant that he was going to be the last person here. He was away on missions, as he always has. Yaga–sensei was going to go as early as he could, Shoko would get it done and over with. Nanami was here, judging from the fact that the bread rolls from that corner store all those years ago were here. He sighed, trying to think if Suguru had come here at all. If he had the audacity to bring condolences and grief in hand. But Satoru thinks that all the incense had erased the scent of all his cursed energy. And perhaps that was for the best. 

He looked at the black armband on his arm. Ever since he arrived yesterday, he couldn’t find it in himself to leave. Not even to sleep or to eat. The moment he arrived, he was told that he was the chief mourner. He never expected that to be someone’s final request, not ever. But he supposed that it was just how fate is, with someone like him. A conundrum of irony, one that could not ever be prevented. One that could never truly stop. 

Satoru left the room quietly, his footsteps echoing softly in the empty hallways. You watched him from your hiding spot, leaning against the wall, your heart pounding in your chest. You didn't want to face him, not now, not here. But as fate would have it, Gojo Satoru could not help but notice you as he grabbed his energy drink from the vending machine. You recognized the drink from all those years ago. It was the one you hated — because it was too overly sweet. But you drank it anyway, when Satoru got it for you. 

"Hey!" he called out, his voice filled with a blend of surprise and familiarity. He rushed to your side, his tall frame towering over you, but his presence was somehow comforting.

You tried to compose yourself, managing a weak smile. "Satoru..."

He grinned at you, his usual playful demeanor tinged with genuine warmth. "I haven't seen you in a while. How about we grab a bite to eat?"

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. "I'm not hungry."

His grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, indulge me. It's not every day I get to catch up with an old friend."

You hesitated, torn between the desire to flee and the comfort of his company. But something in his eyes, a blend of understanding and insistence, made you relent.

"Okay," you sighed, a faint smile tugging at your lips. "But just this once."

Gojo's grin softened into a genuine smile, and he gently placed a hand on your shoulder. "Let's go then."

In no time, you and Satoru sat across from each other in the small cafeteria, the ambient chatter echoes between the two of you in the silence of the empty cafeteria. He was intently looking at you as he started making conversation and you listened, nodding along with what he was saying as you ate. He was like this too when you were younger in Jujutsu High and nearly ten years later, he somehow hasn’t changed. You could only smile at that. 

Satoru starts stuffing his face with the already cold tonkatsu. You could only sigh fondly at him, watching him put the rice bowl down and take the miso soup’s bowl in hand and drink the  cold broth. You picked up your chopsticks and, absentmindedly, stuck them upright into your rice meal. Satoru's cerulean eyes widened slightly, and he leaned forward, his tone playful yet chiding.

"Hey, you know you're not supposed to do that, right? It's bad luck. Reminds me of funeral rites."

You snorted, rolling your eyes at his scolding. "Oh, please, Satoru. Don’t tell me what to do." 

“It’s still bad luck, use them properly!”

You smirked, pulling the chopsticks out and resuming your meal properly. "Besides, it's not like the spirits are going to come after me just for this."

Satoru laughed, shaking his head. "You always were stubborn. Some things never change."

You smiled, a hint of nostalgia in your eyes. "You know, Sugu-chan and Nana-chan were always sticklers for the rules. But you? I can’t believe you’re lecturing me about rules.”

He pouts at you. “I can follow rules too! You’re so mean to me, y’know?”

“It’s very rare to see you follow rules, Sato-chan.”

“But you admit that I follow rules?” The glint in his bright eyes was shining at you like a star in the cloudless sky. So clearly. “You do, don’t you?”

You grinned at him mischievously. “Well, at least the ones that suited you."

“Oh don’t patronize me!”

“Well, you asked!”

The two of you continued eating, the conversation flowing easily. You talked about the current state of affairs, your work, and shared memories from your past. The atmosphere was light, filled with genuine warmth. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen him. Not since you left Jujutsu behind and had gotten married abroad. But from what Satoru heard, you returned recently. 

And he wasn’t sure what happened in all that time. But it was good for him, to see you smiling at him again. It was as if time hadn’t moved at all between the two of you. It was as if it was still like yesterday. He could feel his heart tender as you put your matcha mochi on his plate. You smiled at him, even wider than before as you told him to take it and eat it for you. He looked at you, but you just kept nodding. You watched him eat the mochi and make a satisfied groan as he ate it. You laughed, seeing that he hasn’t changed much. 

Satoru leaned back in his chair, a contented look on his face. "You know, it's really good to see you. I missed this. Just talking and being ourselves."

You nodded, feeling a similar sense of contentment. "Yeah, me too. It's nice to just... be, without any of the usual chaos."

Satoru's eyes softened as he looked at you, a rare moment of vulnerability. "You've been through a lot, I imagine. It’s been….a while.”

You shrugged, trying to downplay the weight of his words. "We all have our battles, Satoru. Some just leave more scars than others."

He reached across the table, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Well, if you ever need someone in your corner, you know where to find me."

You smiled, squeezing his hand back. "Thanks, Satoru. That means a lot."

The conversation tapered off, and a comfortable silence settled between you and Satoru. Both of you watched the birds outside the window, one bird leaving the other behind, fluttering away into the open sky. The scene was tranquil, a stark contrast to the turbulent lives you both led.

Breaking the silence, you reached for your phone. The chair squeaked softly as you shifted, pulling out an outdated flip phone from your pocket. You handed it to Satoru, causing his eyebrows to rise in curiosity.

"Can you put your number in?" you asked.

Satoru took the flip phone, chuckling softly. "You still have this old thing? Why not upgrade to something more modern?"

You shrugged, a faint smile on your lips. "The new ones overstimulate me. I prefer something simple."

Nodding in understanding, Satoru quickly input his number into your flip phone and handed it back to you. Then, he pulled out his sleek, modern smartphone, offering it to you.

"Alright, fair is fair. Put your number in mine too," he said with a grin.

You took his phone, marveling for a moment at the advanced technology before carefully entering your number. As you handed it back, your fingers brushed lightly against his, a brief but comforting connection.

"Thanks," Satoru said, pocketing his phone. "Now I have no excuse not to stay in touch."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Exactly. No excuses."

Another comfortable silence fell between you as you both returned to watching the birds outside, feeling a sense of calm and connection. Despite everything, moments like these reminded you that some bonds were unbreakable, no matter the distance or time that passed. Satoru took a sip of his drink once more and looked at your contentment. He hadn’t expected to have met you today, not at a funeral. He wished it was a better time. But he knew, it was better than not having met you again at all.

“Are you good on Thursday?” Satoru asks, breaking the comfortable silence and causing you to turn your gaze back to him.

“For what?” you reply, raising a curious eyebrow.

“To hang out...like the old days?” he says, a hopeful grin spreading across his face.

You ponder for a moment, the idea of reconnecting with him sounding appealing. "What did you have in mind?"

Satoru leans back in his chair, tapping his chin thoughtfully. "I was thinking we could visit that ramen place we used to love. You know, the one with the best miso ramen in town. And maybe after that, we could catch a movie or just walk around the old neighborhood."

A nostalgic smile creeps onto your face as you remember the countless times you’d both gone to that ramen place, laughing and talking for hours. "That sounds nice. I could use a break from everything."

"Great!" he exclaims, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "It's a date, then."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "It's not a date, Satoru."

"Sure, sure," he says, waving his hand dismissively but with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "Just two old friends hanging out."

"Exactly," you agree, a warmth spreading through you at the thought of spending time with him. 

“Exactly.” He repeated, with that grin on his face. 

You shake your head. “You always have to have the last word, huh?”

He laughs. “Of course!”

For a moment, Gojo Satoru didn’t feel sad anymore.

In this moment, hearing you laugh, he escapes it all.

He escapes the misery of the world in your warmth.

WHEN YOU LEFT, SATORU WAS SHATTERED. He still remembered the details of that moment, when you told him you were leaving. The unruly pile of clothes lying around the room, the ripped pieces of paper scattered across the floor, and the bedsheet that hadn’t been replaced in days—all of it seemed like a chaotic reflection of his inner turmoil. You stood by the door, suitcase in hand, your expression a mix of sadness and determination.

"I can't stay here anymore, Satoru." you had said, your voice trembling yet resolute. "I need to find my own path, away from all of this….I’m tired.”

Satoru's heart had shattered in that instant. The room had felt colder, emptier, as if the very air was being sucked out of it. The dorm already lost its life. Everything about it was just silent. Nanami’s moved out even before graduation, Shoko’s gone off and taken to medical school. It was only him that’s left. Him and you. He clung to you, for all this time. He would push you to join him on his food trips during missions, even if you weren’t here. 

You and him stayed up watching movies together when he had those rare days off. The emptiness Suguru left behind would never go away, but you filled some tenderness in his life. A tenderness that he had enjoyed.  A tenderness he could not live without. And now you planned to leave him too. Now that he couldn't comprehend a world where you weren't a part of his daily life. The thought of you walking out that door and never coming back was too painful to bear. And he hated how it hurt, it hated how it made him return to that time, when Suguru turned his back to him forever.

Thinking of it now that you both were older, Satoru realizes that all of it must have been hard on you too. You were a year below them, in a team with Haibara and Nanami. You were close to Suguru and Shoko too. And now you lost them too, you were all alone too, left with echoes that Satoru did not know. You were left with ghosts and grief and lonesomeness. 

And he didn’t see that, he didn’t want to. You were close to breaking and he didn’t see it. And choosing your peace, it hurt him. It hurt him beyond words could express. It was a horrible thought for certain. But Satoru thought at the time, that if two miserable people were together, maybe the happiness that could come would be enough to overcome that misery. But he was wrong. He was all too wrong. Misery will never keep people together.

"Please," he had pleaded, his voice breaking. "Don't go. We can figure this out together."

But you had only shaken your head, tears streaming down your face. "I'm sorry, Sato-chan…I know it's going to hurt you. But….I can’t stay here.  I need to do this for myself."

The memory of you closing the door behind you haunted him for days, weeks, even months. He couldn’t stop crying for days after Suguru left. He had tried to fill the void with anything he could—training, missions, even attempting to drown his sorrows in alcohol—but nothing worked. The pain of losing both of you was too much to bear. The apartment became a constant reminder of the life he once had, now reduced to a hollow shell.

Every time he looked at the bed, he remembered the late-night conversations, the laughter, and the warmth of your presence. The ripped pieces of paper were drafts of letters he had tried to write to you, words that never seemed adequate to express the depth of his feelings. The clothes strewn about were remnants of happier times, now just silent witnesses to his grief. Even now, years later, the memory was as vivid as ever, a wound that never truly healed.

As Satoru sat across from you, his mind drifted back to the years following your departure. At first, he didn't want to hear anything about you. The pain was too raw, too immediate. Every mention of your name felt like a knife twisting in his chest. It hurt to know that, just like everyone else, you moved on with your life without him.

He remembered the first time he heard you'd left the country. It was Shoko who told him, her voice gentle as she broke the news. You had found a new passion, something that took you far away from the world you both had known. It was supposed to be a casual conversation, but it left him reeling. The idea of you building a new life, so distant from the memories you had shared, was almost unbearable.

Then came the news that you had married. He remembered the hollow feeling in his chest when he heard. It was as if a part of him had died all over again. Shoko had shown him a picture of you and your spouse, smiling and happy. In a fit of rage and heartbreak, he ripped the picture apart, unable to bear the sight of you with someone else.

Each memory hurt him badly. Nights were the worst, filled with imagined scenarios where you were still with him, where he could reach out and feel your warmth next to him. He would lie awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what could have been if you had stayed.

Despite his attempts to move on, the memories lingered. Every accomplishment, every smile, every moment of happiness he found was tinged with the bittersweet reminder of what he had lost. The thought of you, happy and loved by someone else, was a constant ache.

Yet, as he looked at you now, he couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. The pain was still there, but so was the undeniable bond you shared. It was as if no time had passed, and in this small café, surrounded by the remnants of your shared past, he found a small measure of peace. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance to rebuild what had been lost.

You and Satoru began meeting up more often than ever. Each encounter breathed new life into the corners of his world that had long been shadowed by loneliness and regret. For the first time in a long while, besides the joy he found in teaching his students, Satoru felt a genuine happiness blooming within him, one that he had almost forgotten could exist.

Your meet-ups started simply, with visits to quaint cafés where you’d talk over coffee and pastries, reminiscing about old times and sharing stories about your current lives. At times, he brought you along with him when he would see Megumi and Tsumiki. They seemed fond enough of you, and it was a privilege for Satoru to see how tender you are with them. 

You became his daily routine, everything he said revolved around your daily vernacular. Your home cooked meals became his sustenance. He realized too that he smiled more. That he was always in a good mood when you texted him something about your day. He didn’t want this to stop and he knew that you also didn’t want to leave him. Satoru realized that you found solace in each other's presence. The more you met, the more the walls of time and distance crumbled away, leaving only the essence of your bond, untouched and untainted.

At times, Gojo Satoru would come over to your place, bringing groceries or a bottle of sake. These evenings were filled with laughter, shared meals, and a sense of comfort that was rare in his life. It was one of those days to be together again. As you both sat on the porch, the sky painted in hues of twilight, you revealed something you had been holding back. Satoru already knew you were married, but you didn’t know that. But he just listened, when you talked all about it. He just let you lift the weight of your chest. He just let you give yourself to him little by little.

“I’m divorced.” you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the horizon. “It happened a while ago.”

Satoru’s heart skipped a beat. He turned to you, his expression a mix of surprise and concern. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You shrugged, a bittersweet smile playing on your lips. “I didn’t know how. It’s not something I talk about easily. But I thought you should know.”

He reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “I’m sorry you went through that. But thank you for telling me.”

As the weeks turned into months, Satoru realized something profound. He loved you. It was a love that had never truly faded, only hidden beneath layers of time and circumstance. Each moment spent with you reaffirmed this truth. And each moment, he was even more terrified. Terrified of telling you the truth. Terrified of letting you see the pits of him that he doesn’t like. 

The monster that lingers in the strongest, he does not want you to see that. The danger that comes with the world that he dwells in, the world you’d long abandoned. You laughed together, drank together, and enjoyed each other's company in a way that felt both new and comfortingly familiar. The nights, like tonight, continued to be joyous evenings filled with stories and laughter. 

You looked at him, your eyes reflecting the soft glow of the lamp. “I’m glad we’re doing this,” you said softly.

“Me too, y’know?” he replied, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ve missed you. More than I can say.”

Your fingers brushed against his, “I always thought about you, all those years.”

His cerulean blue tenderly met your own orbs. “I always thought about you too."

“Do you mean it?” You responded in a whisper.

“Why would I lie to you, after all this time?”

After a delightful meal shared on your porch, you found yourselves enjoying dessert. You had bought some sweets to bring over. You didn’t like sweets all that much, but you always thought about enjoying them with Satoru. Because it made him happy. And when he was happy, you were too. You could feel the night air breezing in consistent cool kisses, and the distant sound of cicadas filled the silence between your laughter and conversation. You picked up a piece of the dessert, holding it out to Satoru with a playful grin. You supposed you had drunk much already.

“Here, try this. It’s delicious, Sato-chan.” you said, your eyes sparkling with amusement.

He leaned forward, his eyes locked on yours as he took the bite. “Mmm, you’re right. It’s amazing.”

Before you could pull your hand away, he took a piece and held it out to you. “Your turn.”

You hesitated, feeling a sudden rush of warmth to your cheeks. “Satoru, I can feed myself, you know?” you laughed nervously.

“Come on, indulge me, sweets!” he teased, his tone light but his eyes serious.

You opened your mouth, letting him feed you. The intimacy of the gesture made your heart race, and you quickly looked away, trying to hide your flustered expression. Satoru chuckled, clearly pleased with himself.

As the evening wore on, Satoru, a notorious lightweight when it came to drinking, began to feel the effects of the sake you’d shared. He leaned back, his eyelids drooping. “I think I’m going to pass out, sweets.” he mumbled, a sleepy smile on his face.

“Then go and sleep.”

“Hm….night.”

‘.....G’d night.”

You watched as his eyes closed, his breathing evening out. For a long moment, you stared at him, your heart aching with unspoken feelings. You had always been in love with him, but you knew deep down that you could never compete with Suguru. That bond, that history, was something you could never touch.

Unbeknownst to you, Satoru was not entirely asleep. He was keenly aware of his feelings for you, feelings that had grown stronger with each passing day. But rather than confront them, he chose to feign sleep, his mind whirling with thoughts he wasn’t ready to address. Not just yet. Not when it was too hard to face the truth.

You reached out, your hand trembling slightly as you gently brushed a stray lock of hair from Satoru's forehead. Your touch was tender, filled with a longing that transcended the boundaries between this world and the next.

"I... I... I lov..." you began, your voice faltering as if caught between the weight of your emotions and the limits of your spectral form. Frustration and exhaustion etched across your ethereal features, and you brought your hands to your face, overcome by the inability to express what lay heavy on your heart.

Swallowing back the bitter taste rising in your throat, you steadied yourself and turned your gaze to Satoru, watching him sleep peacefully. The room was hushed, filled only with the soft rustling of fabric and the steady rhythm of his breathing.

"You're the most important to me, Satoru," you whispered, your voice a fragile whisper in the quiet night. The words hung in the air, carrying the weight of a love that defied death itself. "And you always will be."

He heard your words, each one piercing through his heart, but he remained still, his breathing steady. He wasn’t ready to face the complexities of your relationship, the unresolved emotions that lay between you.

As you sat there, watching over him, you wondered if there would ever be a time when you could be honest with each other. For now, you were content to cherish these moments, fleeting as they might be, and hope that someday, the barriers between you would fall away, leaving only the love that had always been there.

A few moments later, you realized Satoru groggily opened his eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep. He watched you with a mix of concern and amusement as you clumsily attempted to put your shoes on, fumbling with the laces and nearly losing your balance. The room was dim, and the aftereffects of the night’s drinks were evident in your unsteady movements.

“What are you doing?” Satoru asked, his voice laced with confusion and sleepiness.

“I need to go home,” you whispered to him, your voice soft but tinged with a hint of desperation. You hiccuped, the sound breaking the silence of the room. “My dog needs me.”

Satoru sat up, rubbing his eyes and trying to make sense of your words. He reached out to steady you, his touch gentle yet firm. “You’re not going anywhere in this state, sweets.” he said, concern etched across his face. “Let’s get you some water and figure this out.”

But you shook your head, your thoughts already miles away. “No, I have to go. She’s waiting for me. Please, I need to get home.” The urgency in your voice was palpable, and despite his better judgment, Satoru knew there was no stopping you. 

“Alright….Let me take you home.”

“You don’t need to.” You tell him, shaking your head. “You…don’t you have a mission tomorrow?”

“It’s fine.” Satoru insisted to you. “Don’t worry.”

Walking through the train tunnel, the air was thick with the musty scent of concrete and dampness, punctuated by the distant echo of footsteps reverberating off the tunnel walls. The dim, flickering lights cast long, eerie shadows that danced around you and Satoru as you stumbled forward, your movements unsteady and guided more by instinct than clarity.

You were particularly drunk, your senses dulled and your thoughts muddled. Every step felt like a small victory as you navigated the uneven ground and avoided stumbling over the occasional debris littering the tunnel floor. Beside you, Satoru walked with a surprising steadiness, his normally calm demeanor now tinged with a quiet concern. His eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings with a vigilance that contrasted sharply with your intoxicated haze.

The tunnel seemed to stretch on endlessly, the occasional flickering light offering brief glimpses of the graffiti-covered walls and rusted tracks that lay beyond. The sound of your footsteps echoed loudly in the confined space, creating an unsettling symphony with the distant sounds of passing trains and the occasional drip of water from above.

“Be careful now.” he cautioned, glancing at you as you stumbled slightly. His tone was light, but the concern in his eyes was evident.

You turned to him, your heart pounding in your chest. “Satoru,” you began, your voice wavering. “There’s something I’ve never been able to tell you.”

He stopped walking, turning to face you fully. “What is it?” he asked, his expression curious and a little concerned.

You looked at him, your eyes almost broken, the weight of unspoken emotions heavy on your shoulders. “Can I… can I hug you? Just once?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Can you turn off Infinity around me? Just for a moment?”

Satoru’s eyes softened, and he took a step closer. “My Infinity is always down with you,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a gentle sincerity.

Without another word, you stepped forward and embraced him, wrapping your arms around his waist. The warmth of his body against yours was both comforting and overwhelming. Satoru stood still, his arms at his sides, too shocked to respond immediately.

For a moment, you held him tightly, your face buried in his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. “I’ve always loved you, Satoru.” you whispered, the words slipping out before you could stop them. “I wished….I wished I told you, before I left. Maybe……maybe it would have saved me a decade of pain. Of heartbreak.”

His body tensed slightly, and you could feel his breath hitch. Slowly, as if coming out of a trance, his arms began to lift. Tentatively, he placed them around you, his embrace becoming firmer as the reality of your confession sank in.

You stood there in the train tunnel, holding onto each other as if the world around you had ceased to exist. The distant echoes and the cold air were forgotten, replaced by the warmth of the moment and the raw, unfiltered emotions that had finally been laid bare.

Satoru pulled back slightly, just enough to look down at you. His eyes were filled with a mix of shock, confusion, and something else—something deeper. “Why now?” he asked, his voice barely audible, as if he was afraid that speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment.

You looked up at him, your eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Because I couldn’t hold it in any longer,” you replied, your voice trembling. “Because I need you to know, even if it changes nothing.”

For a long moment, he said nothing, his gaze searching your face. Then, slowly, he leaned down and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. “Thank you.” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. “For telling me.”

“I know we can’t be together.” You ramble to him, tears falling all over your face. “I wish we could have had more time. I wish….”

“We will have more time.” He tells you in a mumble. “We have all the time in the world.”

“We don’t.” You whispered to him, looking into his eyes with your own tear stained face. “We don’t.”

In that moment, he could see it in your eyes.

You were telling him the truth, the whole of it.

As the sound of the train echoed through the tunnel,

You burst into tears as those words echoed in his head.

“I’m sorry, Satoru.” You whispered. “I’m going to hurt you.”

YOU CHOSE THE PICTURE YOURSELF.  You looked at him, a sad smile playing on your lips, a bittersweet expression that conveyed both regret and acceptance. Your gaze was gentle yet haunting, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the photograph he held in his trembling hands — a portrait of you, captured in a moment of serene beauty that seemed to transcend the confines of the photograph itself.

As he stared at your image, framed by the soft glow of candlelight, he felt a pang of disbelief and sorrow grip his heart. How could someone so vibrant, so full of life, now be reduced to this still, silent image before him? The photograph seemed to capture not just your physical likeness, but also the essence of your spirit — a spirit that had once danced with such vitality and now lingered only in memories.

He remembered that day in the tunnel, your words echoing in his mind like a haunting refrain. You had warned him, confessed your impending departure with a sorrow that mirrored his own. In that moment, he had felt a deep ache, a foreboding sense of loss that now seemed inevitable and crushing.

Now, holding your funeral photo, he felt as if he were suspended in that tunnel once more, caught between the reality of your absence and the vividness of your memory. You had prepared for this moment, for your departure from his life, long before fate had delivered its cruel blow. The photo captured a version of you that he knew was only a fraction of the person he had loved — a mere reflection of the complexities and contradictions that made you who you were.

He shook his head, trying to dispel the illusion of your ghostly presence that seemed to linger in the room. This spectral image, so painfully beautiful, could never truly encapsulate the vibrant soul he had cherished. Everything that defined you now rested in the small urn before him, the echoes of the fleeting nature of life itself. He had promised to protect you, to hold you close, but now all he could do was hold onto your memory, etched into his heart with a sorrow that would never fade.

Gojo Satoru sat in silence, the photo trembling in his hands. He couldn't bring himself to look away from your serene face, captured forever in that moment of calm. The flickering candlelight cast dancing shadows around the room, creating an atmosphere that felt both intimate and surreal.

"You told me……" Satoru finally spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, "that you were going to hurt me. But I never thought it would end like this."

Your ghostly presence seemed to shimmer faintly in the dim light, a wistful echo of the person he had loved so deeply. Your eyes, even in the photo, held a depth of sadness that mirrored his own

"I'm sorry," you whispered, your voice carrying a weight of regret that pierced through the silence. "I never wanted this for us."

He looked up at you, tears welling in his eyes. "I should have done everything." he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I should have done something."

You shook your head gently, a gesture that seemed to encompass both forgiveness and understanding. "It wasn't your fault," you reassured him softly. "We couldn't change what was meant to be."

"But I miss you, my love." Satoru confessed, his voice choking with grief. "Every day feels like a struggle without you."

Your ghostly form seemed to draw closer, as if reaching out to comfort him. "I know, I know…." you murmured, your presence a fleeting warmth in the cold emptiness of the room. "I miss you too."

He reached out a trembling hand towards where your image lay, desperate for some tangible connection to the love that had defined his world. "Why did you have to leave me?" he asked, his voice filled with anguish. “Why now when we had everything?”

You looked at him with infinite sadness, your ethereal presence flickering faintly. "I didn't want to," you replied, your voice barely audible. "But my time was up. Some things... we can't control it."

He closed his cerulean eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks. The ache in his chest felt unbearable, a gaping void that no amount of time could ever heal. "I wish I could have saved you, my love." he whispered, his words a desperate plea to the universe. “I wished I….”

In the silence that followed, your ghostly form seemed to fade gradually, leaving behind only the faint echo of your presence. "You gave me everything I ever wanted." you whispered softly, your voice drifting like a gentle breeze. "And I will always be with you, in every memory, in every heartbeat."

He closed his cerulean eyes, tears streaming down his cheeks like silent rivers of grief. The ache in his chest felt unbearable, a gaping void that no amount of time could ever hope to heal. "I don't want anything else, my love," he whispered brokenly, his words a desperate plea to the universe. "I just want you. I need you."

His voice faltered, choked by sorrow too deep for words. In the deafening silence that followed, your ghostly form seemed to fade gradually, leaving behind only the faint echo of your presence. The room feels emptier without you, devoid of the warmth and light that had once filled his life.

"I know." You choked as you tried not to falter. Not when he needed your smile more than your tears. "I know."

"I wished we had more time.....so I could have....." You shook your head at him.

"You gave me everything I ever wanted," your voice echoed softly, ethereal and distant like a whisper carried in the wind. "And I have no regrets. Neither should you, Satoru. Hm?"

He clutched the photograph to his chest, feeling the weight of your absence press against him like a physical force. The candle flickered, casting fleeting shadows on the walls as if dancing to the rhythm of his heartache. Memories flooded his mind — moments shared, laughter exchanged, dreams woven together — now a tapestry of what-ifs and regrets.

"I don't know how to go on without you, my love." he admitted quietly, his voice trembling with raw emotion. "Everything reminds me of you. What is life without who makes life have sense?"

"You are stronger than you know, you always were." your voice whispered gently, a soothing melody in the midst of his storm. He could feel you touch his cheek. He leans against the ghostly weight, wishing he could feel your warmth in his. "You'll always get by, Satoru. You always will. You're the best I know, after all."

"Because I'm the strongest?"

You smiled, softly shaking your head again. "Because you love too well."

He opened his pale blue eyes, searching for a glimpse of you in the shadows, in the flickering candlelight. Though your physical presence had slipped away, he could still feel your love wrapping around him like a fragile cocoon. It was a love that had weathered storms, endured trials, and now lingered as fragile hope in his shattered heart.

"I love you, my love." he whispered into the stillness, his words a solemn vow to carry your memory forward. "Always."

As he sat there, cradling the photograph that held your smile frozen in time, he knew that while he had lost you in body, your spirit would forever remain intertwined with his own. And in the quiet moments of solitude, he would find solace in the memories of a love that had transcended mortality itself. 

He knew that time would be the bridge between now and when he would see you again. Even in his deepest despair, the thought of reuniting with you brought a bittersweet comfort. Yet, he also knew that to join you prematurely would betray the promise he had made to you in those final moments — to live a life worthy of your love, to carry on and make a difference.

The scent of incense filled the room, a solemn reminder of the rituals and prayers offered for your departed soul. Satoru let out a long exhale, his lips pursed into a determined line. He would fulfill his promises, no matter how difficult or daunting the path ahead seemed.

"I'll change the Jujutsu society," he vowed quietly to himself, the words carrying a weight of determination. "I'll guide the next generation, help them grow strong and wise."

As a sad melody filled the air, a song that once brought joy and laughter to both of you, he closed his eyes and allowed the memories to wash over him. You had loved to dance to this song, your laughter echoing in his ears as you twirled around the room together. It was a memory etched in his heart, a fragment of a life he cherished and longed to live again.

"I'll do everything you believed I could," he whispered softly, his voice tinged with both sadness and resolve. "And then, I'll find you again."

In the solitude of that moment, amidst the flickering candlelight and the haunting melody, he made a silent promise to himself and to you. He would continue to carry your love in his heart, through every trial and triumph, knowing that one day, their souls would reunite in a dance again.

And so Gojo Satoru waits as he lay on that cold operating table.

Those sad sing along songs repeated in his head over and over.

But as he lay there, all that he could think to do was smile at pain.

He was going to meet you soon, he thinks to himself in such peace.

Then, there would be no more sad songs for his broken heart to hear.

some facts about the fic

in the first part, satoru is struggling through his grief for you to the point that he is suffering traumatic illusions that you were there, eating with him. in that whole scene, satoru was actually alone and he's repressing that for the vision of being together, eating.

when you were eating, the chopsticks  were stuck upright. this should not be the case especially rice. chopsticks are only stuck upright into rice in the bowl on the altar at a funeral or when paying respects to the deceased. this is called hotokebashi.

in the funerary flower arrangement, there's something called an ihai. an ihai is a placard that people used to designate the seat of a deity or past ancestor as well as to enclose it. the name of the deity or the past ancestor is usually inscribed onto the tablet.

an ihai is usually used in the funerary rights and then afterwards, put in a butsudan which is often an ornate platform or simply a wooden cabinet sometimes crafted with doors that enclose it. families often put their ihai into their butsudan at home.

since i thought that in this story, you don't have parents - i like to think that satoru put your ihai in the butsudan in his house, so that you could be there with him always.

your ashes in the story are with satoru. but i like to believe he already had a spot reserved for him as clan leader in the future - so he buried you beside his future spot so he just made sure both of you are together in the afterlife too.

the watch belonged to haibara and his parents gave you and nanami something of his to keep. you kept the watch he wore during the mission and kept using it all your life. it stopped working when you died.

the time in the story was 19:42. in japanese superstition,

in the first part, satoru is struggling through his grief for you to the point that he is suffering traumatic illusions that you were there, eating with him. in that whole scene, satoru was actually alone and he's repressing that for the vision of being together, eating.

when you were eating, the chopsticks  were stuck upright. this should not be the case especially rice. chopsticks are only stuck upright into rice in the bowl on the altar at a funeral or when paying respects to the deceased. this is called hotokebashi.

in the funerary flower arrangement, there's something called an ihai. an ihai is a placard that people used to designate the seat of a deity or past ancestor as well as to enclose it. the name of the deity or the past ancestor is usually inscribed onto the tablet.

an ihai is usually used in the funerary rights and then afterwards, put in a butsudan which is often an ornate platform or simply a wooden cabinet sometimes crafted with doors that enclose it. families often put their ihai into their butsudan at home.

since i thought that in this story, you don't have parents - i like to think that satoru put your ihai in the butsudan in his house, so that you could be there with him always.

your ashes in the story are with satoru. but i like to believe he already had a spot reserved for him as clan leader in the future - so he buried you beside his future spot so he just made sure both of you are together in the afterlife too.

the watch belonged to haibara and his parents gave you and nanami something of his to keep. you kept the watch he wore during the mission and kept using it all your life. it stopped working when you died.

the time in the story was 19:42. in japanese superstition, you have to switch it to have meaning. 42-19, together sounds like shini iku (死に行く – to go and die).

your story ex-spouse and you divorced because they found out that you were a jujutsu sorcerer - after you saved them from a cursed spirit that was about to kill them.

you found out that you were very ill a month after you met satoru again and were given a year or two to live, with medication. its a rare disease, so there was only maintenance medication.

originally, i thought to write that you die from a mission after returning to jujutsu to be with satoru. but i realized that it's just not gonna hit as hard. so i changed my mind and got to this ending.

i also thought that you dying in this story because of cursed spirits was going to rile satoru up against the higher ups. but i felt like the fact that you left him because you were traumatized too, and needed a room enough to breathe was enough for him to be angry. if you hadn't left, you and satoru would have had a life together and you wouldn't have been ripped away from him by fate so quickly.

[binniesbooks]

ahh hi my fayebae(idk is this cute?if its not I can think of another one)

anyways i thought real hard and long for this(while eating ice cream since its so hot here rn) but here's my idea!! gyu and reader are school rivals of a certain sport(u can choose the sport), let's just say boys and girls are both on the team!

they are pretty popular/well known (cos it looks like one wrong move and they would rip each other throat's out) but also cos they are both captains of their own school team!

but what others don't know, is that the whole tension and rivalry that they put on, is just an act. behind close doors well, one can say they are more than friends 🤭 seeing that after every game. they are both nowhere in sight.

(honestly dont mind switch between gyu and reader?? but u can choose who would take the lead n such idm!!) like it'll be hawt ughhh please ofc include smut!!(gyu eating out reader if possible I'm on my knees😳n anything else that is pleasurable for both of them heheh) everything else is up to u!!🤍

idk if this is any good cos this is like my 2nd ask of a fic to anyone T-T I rlly hope this inspires u <3

• LOCKED AND LOADED

BG 001 .F23 2024

wc 3.8k

pairing rival(?)!beomgyu x fem!reader

warning cursing, unprotected sex, oral sex, cum playing, dangerous activity(gun holding) (tell me if I missed anything)

faye's note dedicated to my one and only dearest Beomgyu's kitten, @babymochibeargyu here you goooo! I'm sorry for the delay, I feel bad omg. But here's a little TMI, I rewatched one of TODO episodes for this kkkkk! Plus I did my own research tooooo! But, okay, I know there's no Olympics likes this but just imagine. Omg. Kkkkk bye!

Btw, I feel like I'm being surrounded with bamtoris 😋 ❤️

2024 Campus Olympics

"And...they're out!" The crowd roared from cheers and disappointment coming from the bleachers as the big screen showed the "GAME OVER" sign.

"We have our semi-finalist! Ladies and gentlemen! ELITE EAGLES!" The crowd roared once again at the announcer's statement. You heard the deafening sound as you and your teammates stepped out from the range. The air was thick with competition and excitement.

This sport has been ongoing for years now. The sport that requires skill, accuracy, precision, and speed, is a shooting game. However, the guns used in this competition are nerfed, to lessen the power and accidents that may happen. You and Beomgyu's school had been the biggest rivals in this sport. Making it the spotlight and main event of the Camp Olympics.

"Now! Who will be our champion of the year?! Will it be the ELITE EAGLES?" the crowd cheered again, "Or our defending champions, the ALPHAS!" The crowd grew louder, you glanced at the other side of the entrance of the range. And there he was, standing all proud with a smirk plastered on his face, it was no other than your only rival, Beomgyu.

You clutched at the nerfed gun you were holding as your teammate were fixing their protective vests and head gears.

"This will be the game of the century for both of these teams! For the past 2 years, they have scored 1-1 so far, who will conquer this time?" The commentator announced. You could practically feel the stretch of the veins in their neck with the way they shouted.

It's been two years since you joined this sport, you were still a sophomore at that time. And this time, it was your last and final year to play, craving for the victor's crown. Beomgyu had been your rival from the start, making it his last and final year to play too.

Beomgyu turned his gaze towards yours, grinning at how you were practically boring holes in his head. As you line up in front facing each other's team, the fiery stare and sharp remarks on the field had all the students buzzing, and it seemed like a single misstep would ignite a full-blown feud.

"Go Eagles, we soar, we flight! United and bold, in the heart of fight!"

"Who's got the power, the strength, the drive? We are the Alphas, we thrive, we thrive!"

The cheer squad from both teams were doing their best to boost their player's determination. Showing off their respected school representative animals from banners to mascots, cheers to flaglets. The rivalry, driven by pride and competition, garners attention from everyone as both teams relish in the spotlight. The tension is palpable, with the upcoming round heightened by mutual taunts and challenging glances, fueling their status as competitors.

"Players! Lock and Load!" the rumbling sound of cheers and shouts envelops the field.

2022 Campus Olympics

"Y/n, you should definitely join, I swear it will be worth it." Yeonjun, your president of the photography club recommended joining the Lock and Load sports club. He used to be the team captain but since he and the members were about to graduate, he needed to keep the club alive. Persuading you to join and be the captain of the team.

"Jjun," his face crumpled at the name, "I really can't do that, prez. Look, I'm already in this photography club, I can't manage my time. " You sighed.

"Says the one who can stay up all night to watch her favorite movies but can't even accept her president's slash friend's request." He yapped and yawned.

"Fine!" You stomped your feet, "If you were not just my president and one of my dearest friends, I wouldn't have considered your request at all!" You crossed your arms, pouting as you hear his light laughs envelope the room

"We have a new champion! Ladies and gentlemen! Elite Eagles!" Your crowd cheered on you. This annual event is a big event for your schools. And you felt the proud look from the participants of your school. Being the champion in this sport was a normal occurrence especially when Yeonjun was still the captain. So as you turned to him, his smile was the brightest you had ever seen.

As you turn to the other side, you see your opponent's team. You can't see any disappointment in their eyes, but their aura practically screams revenge. Their team captain caught your eye. He's tall and looked like he had a pleasing personality the way he was talking to his teammates. Well, that's what you can see.

As your two teams gathered up in front for a handshake to show sportsmanship, you hesitated at the way he was smiling at you. You raised your hand to shake his, but you feel strange.

"Congratulations." The word rolled out of his mouth so smooth and sweet yet full of threat. Your skin crawled at how cold his palm was. You immediately pulled back your hand as you felt an electric sensation radiating off of him through you. A palpable tension between you ignited when both of your eyes met, frowning faces as if about to kill each other. -- That's when everybody knew, you would be the biggest rivals of this sport.

"I told you, you can do it!" Yeonjun said as he ruffled your hair while walking with your team. "All of you, you did well too, I knew you could do it." Greeting the group made them cheer and thank Yeonjun, for the support he gave and the persuasion he did.

"Are you coming?" One of your teammates shouted outside asking you if you would go with them to celebrate, but you're still not finished taking a bath to remove the sweaty scent that makes you feel icky. "I will! But go ahead, I'll catch up later." You confirmed. You heard the door closed. It was really good to have such a facility that caters for your annual school events. The big field could accommodate all of the participating schools for the event, and the participants' team themselves had their own rooms to stay in. You were more than happy, you got to experience using these athlete's rooms plus you even won the championship of Lock and Load.

You were about to leave when you stopped in your tracks as you saw someone standing leaning on the wall in the hallway. He's wearing your opponent's uniform.

"Hey there. Come with me for a while."

2023 Campus Olympics

"They're three points left behind with 2 minutes remaining! Will Alphas catch up or will they be the ones to win the championship?" The roaring crowd ignites the desperation of both teams to win.

With a ten-point difference, Alphas won the game. The victory wasn't supposed to be theirs but their captain changed plans last minute. The prideful face of Beomgyu shined bright as he walked out of the range. His grin grew wider when you were in his sight. You couldn't help but roll your eyes and turn your back to him. This rivalry between the two schools will get bigger, given the fact that you two will be playing your last games next year. The score tied at 1-1, the next annual event will be the tiebreaker.

"It's fine really. We do lose too, even before." Despite being a graduate student, Yeonjun still gives his full support to the Elite Eagles' Lock and Load team, patronizing them, especially at this event, he is also the acting coach of the team as of now. Besides, he was the reason why your school has its own team for the Lock and Load sport. He tried to cheer you up, tapping every slumped shoulder of every player.

You forced a smile at him, trying your best not to look too bad. "I have an idea. I'll buy tonight's dinner for you guys. I can't look at your droopy faces." He volunteered, gathering some "Coach, you don't have to" and "Hyung, you don't have to" as answers. "No, I insist."

When your fellow players got up to head to the accommodation room, you stayed behind at one of the benches for players near the range. Yeonjun sat beside you. "Don't be so disheartened. You know, there's still one more year for you. I know you'll make it." He ruffled your hair, giving you a bottle of energy drink.

"Replenish your energy. Then come over to the team dinner." Maybe Yeonjun felt that your silence had screamed that you wanted to be alone for a while. He put his hand in his pocket as he walked away.

"Come out. I know you're there." The same person from the opponent's team, leaning on the post not too far from where you are sitting, is hidden away from eyes that can see both of you.

Present

Your team ran through the course, earning points at each shot. For the past years, you have Beomgyu as an opponent, you could say that you can read his plans and movements. Allowing you to move and think faster than him. His teammates were quick, but you and your teammates trained yourself to be wary and not let your guard down.

"This is an interesting and intense game of the century!" You almost scoffed at the figures of speech the announcers had been using in their comments.

"Shit, that was a close call!" You muttered as you hid yourself on a stack of sacks, you were almost hit by his teammate. "Attention eagles! I can see their position from here. E7, proceed under the truck, someone's behind the wall. E5, someone just ran near your position. E6, remain seated, they might see you. Others, stick to the plan, be careful!" You quietly talked to your teammates as you distributed their tasks.

All 8 members of each team can earn points as much as they can, each shot is equivalent to a certain point depending on what part of the body the bullet hits. The suit and protective vests that the player wore had built-in sensors, that whenever an opponent’s bullets hits it, it would automatically count as a point.

It's almost the end of the round, and with 9 minutes remaining, the score was 88-67 with your team at the lower end. You're frustrated-- Beomgyu irks you so much. With 8 minutes remaining, you kept on shooting at any opponent that came your way. You did not camp anymore. Moving from one place to another. 7 minutes remaining, the crowd became louder. Your mind is blurry to think of a strategy. 6 minutes remaining, your teammates are trying to reach you but to no avail. 5 minutes remaining, you don't have much time left, you can't just remain still. 4 minutes remained, and you dashed to the opponent's base aiming for their captain, receiving a few glancing blows in the process. 3 minutes remaining, you covered yourself near the metal wall. 2 minutes remaining, the score ascended to 112-103, but still, your team was at the lower end.

The firing from others has ceased, probably killing the 2 minutes remaining to save energy and steady the scores. You roamed your eyes through the opponent's base. No captain in sight. "Shit, am I too late?" You muttered, slowly walking to search for him. You were about to step out of their base when you heard someone.

"Hands behind your head." The voice commanded. Fucking hell, you're doomed.

....

Both teams step out of the range with loud cheers from the crowd.

"We almost did it. We were so close."

"Man, that was close."

"This is my last year already."

Clear disappointment, was what you heard.

"Ladies and gentlemen! The game of the century has now officially ended! Our champion! No other than..." Your ears practically ring with the announcer's shouting voice.

"ELITE EAGLES!" Your team cheered as much as the crowd did, jumping and shouting their lungs out.

You turn to Beomgyu, one of his hands in his pocket, and the other still holding the gun. He smiled at you, mouthing a 'congratulations'. You nodded before you were called to line up and shake each other's hands.

"The annual Campus Olympics has officially ended. This is your official commentator of the year's event, Kim Jun-soo, signing off."

"Woah! How did you do it, captain? I thought we were going to lose!" Your teammates were overjoyed, but still not over the fact that you won.

"See? I told you, you can do it. And look you actually did!" Yeonjun placed his cap on your head. "Nice job, team captain."

"I..thank you." You were out of words -- no, you were out of this world actually.

"Hey, dinner is on--"

"Coach, the organizers gave me a stub. Dinners are on them for both teams." Yeonjun was cut off by one of your teammates.

Hearing the free dinner, Yeonjun cheered with your teammates. Free dinner = not a single cent to be spent.

"See you later then, rest for now, we still have plenty of time," Yeonjun announced.

...

"Hey move over, the seat is empty." Bickering can be heard from the next table in the restaurant reserved for the players. Yeonjun sighs, for three consecutive years, you haven't attended the team dinner. You are, again, not in sight.

"By any chance, have you seen Captain?"

"Oh yeah, Beomgyu is not here again. I wonder why the seat's empty."

"How many years has it been? 2?"

"Three years. He did not attend any single team dinner at all."

"Forget it, eat to your heart's content. He might not just wanna attend."

Yeonjun's head snapped at what he had just heard. Alphas and Elite Eagles have been rivals for so long. You and the other team's captain have been rivals for three years. And neither of you has attended team dinners for three consecutive years too. Was something going on? Or was he just overthinking it?

"Gyu... Beomgyu..." You whined.

"Shhh, stay still." He whispered.

"Ahh... Beomgyu..." his name rolling off your tongue so sweet it makes him feel tingly.

Your grip on his hair tightens a little bit, "More... I want more..." Your words are shaky and needy.

Beomgyu held your thighs to keep them steady, lapping at your sweet wetness. "Why are you so needy right now?" He asked sucking at your clit. Your back arched at his action. "I...I want more, please... I want you." He pulled back a little bit, just a few inches away from your dripping cunt. His hot puffs of breath make you shiver and whine for me. "N-no teasing..." Your legs felt weak. Shaking. Trembling. "But I love you being so needy, captain. I like seeing you squirm under me." Your hand clasped your mouth, refraining from moaning, the term captain gives butterflies to your stomach.

"Captain, just so you know, I love how you moan my name, I love how you make that face when you cum. I love it when you whine and whimper." His eyes are fixed on you while he's kissing your inner thighs. He watches the rising and falling motion of your exposed chest.

"Now, say my name again, will you?" He uttered, getting ready to dive in you again.

His hot and slippery tongue licked a stripe on your cunt, making your back arch once again as you gripped tightly on his sheets. "Beomgyu... Cap..captain Gyu.." you yelped, "I'm gonna cum.. please.." he likes this so much. He likes it when you beg for him to take care of you.

"Let it out, captain." He smirked as he continued tongue fucking you. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, you quivered as you reached your high. Beomgyu's bed was a total mess, from your thrashing, from your sweat, from your squirming.

"This never changed, you always taste good, captain. Ever since we were young." He grasped your waist to pull you closer, sucking your remaining cum from the intense orgasm he gave you. He sat down on the edge of the bed, just to rest for a while, but he did not expect what you were about to do.

You crawled down on him, between his legs. You look up at him as you lay your cheek on one of his thighs. He smirked at your quirks. He grabbed a gun from his table drawer. Pointing it on your temple. Your eyes flutter at him as he smiles sweetly at you. "Do it for me, yeah,?" He motions at his belt. Beomgyu owns a licensed gun, it was your gift when you two just turned 18. Probably the reason why he joined lock and load.

You carefully unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants agonizingly slow. The cold muzzle kissing your sweaty temple. You were still staring at him, he was biting his lips, abs clenching at the sight. You pumped him a few times causing him to groan at your work.

"Careful, Captain. Fuck." One hand still holding the gun pointed at you, another gripping at the sheets.

You spit on his cock, a makeshift lube, as you bobbed your head carefully. His breath was shaky and hot. Lips were now red at how he occasionally bit them from the sensation.

Your tongue prodded at his tip, trying to lick his slit.

"Ahh, fucking shit, y/n.." His hips were thrusting up to your mouth.

"Do it again. Fuck, do that again." He commanded when you stop licking his slit. One more move and he will fall from the bed.

You took him whole --that's when he lost it, he holds your head with both of his hands, still clutching onto the gun.

He was fucking your throat, your gag reflex kicking in, "Shit, god damn it y/n, I'm sorry!" Despite the apology, his movement did not stop one bit, if anything, he even moved a bit rougher.

"C-can I cum in your m-mouth?" His words fumbling, the muscles of his legs tensing. "P-please tell me if I can. I-i'm... Shit. Ahh! I'm close.." he stammered.

You hummed, causing him to lose himself at the resonance. His cock throbbed inside your mouth as white spurts of cum painted your mouth.

He quickly tossed the gun on his bed as he pulled you up to straddle him. One hand resting on your hand, the other on your chin. "Open your mouth." You opened your mouth, very carefully, not wanting to spill his milk. He pressed his thumb on your tongue, playing with his cum, as he let it spill out, trailing down to his hand.

"You always make me horny." He licked his thumb before pulling you to a fervent kiss. You started grinding on him as he kissed you with so much longing. He easily slipped inside of you with your slick still dripping on your thighs, causing you to gasp allowing him to fuck your throat with his tongue. You started to roll your hips in a circular motion causing him to curse. "Are we doing it raw again, captain?" You asked, but he dodged your answer with another question.

"Captain, I-I just came. How could you?" He wrapped his arms around your waist. You stilled before pulling away, "The stunt you pulled is dangerous," you pouted, "What if you suddenly killed me? I bought that for you as a souvenir when I went to the States. I did not expect it to be used against me." You crossed your arms. He planted a sweet kiss on your lips, "Rule number 2, firearms should be unloaded when not actually in use," he shrugged, "The magazine ain't intact." He added.

Your mouth gaped, you were dumbfounded, all this time your heart had been racing thinking about the danger that might actually happen. But in fact, it was actually unloaded.

"Damn you! I was scared to death! I thought --"

"You thought? You thought what?" He cuts you off when he starts thrusting, stretching you out. You hid your face in the crook of his neck.

"Wow, that's cheating, making an excuse to moan on my ears." His moves were unchanging, deeply thrusting in your sloppy cunt.

You can't help yourself but moan, not when he's gripping your waist to push his girthy cock deeper on you.

"Captain... Captain, you're hitting the right s-spots..." You moaned as you stayed glued to his sweaty body.

"I-i'll pull out. I'll pull out c-captain." His words stuttered as his moves also stuttered.

"Don't, please Gyu. I want you to cum inside, I'm on the pill." You buried your face more in his neck, embarrassed hearing yourself begging him to cum in you.

"How can I say no when you're c-clenching on my c-cock. Shit, I'm close." He huffed. You clenched more, you want him so much. You're desperate to feel his warm cum filling you up.

"C-captain, c-can I rub my..." You're too shy to finish your sentence, but he pulled the words out of your mouth when he started moving his fingers on your clit in a circular motion."Captain! Captain, fuck! Oh god!" You were both ecstatic rushing to chase your highs.

He restrained your hands behind your back as he started moving harder, abusing your stretched cunt. You moved closer to him, to his ears, moaning at it purposely, pushing him to the edge as he spilled inside you.

He continued fucking you and rubbing your clit despite the fact he had reached his own orgasm, overstimulating himself. "Fuck it fucking h-hurts! Fucking hell!" You can't hear any words from him other than his resounding curses until you are squirting on him. He was chasing his breath as he laid his forehead on your shoulder.

"I love this so much... I love you... You're so hot squirting on my cock.. sexy." He muttered. You pulled him into a hug, slight movements causing the both of you to wince. I love you too, Captain.." You whispered.

All you can hear in the room is the ticking of the clock, the thumping of your chest, and the heavy pants and breaths coming from both of you.

"Why did you do it, Gyu?" You look at him, eyes searching for answers. He just smiled.

"Hands behind your head." It was Beomgyu. You're doomed.

"Hello there, Miss Captain." He clicks his tongue as he stares at you. "You really wanted to win, yeah?" He added.

"Ah-ah! Do not move! Give me your gun." He commanded making you flinch, you glanced at the timer on his suit, less than one minute remaining. You handed him your gun and placed your hands behind your head again.

"Do me a favor." You looked at him confused, "What favor?" 30 seconds remaining.

"Call me captain." Short, yet precise words.

"What?" Your eyebrows furrowed.

"I said, call me captain." 20 seconds.

"Look, I don't know what-"

"Call. Me. Captain. Right now." His voice was full of authority. 10 seconds remaining.

9

8

7

6

5

4

3... "Captain!"

2

1... "Bang!" You flinched at what you've heard, he pulled the trigger! Beomgyu fucking pulled the trigger.

But it wasn't his gun, it was yours, and the muzzle was pressed on his headgear.

10 points were added to your score, a headshot is equivalent to 10 points. The score ascends to 102-113.

@binniesbooks 2024

[thyln4gf]

Friends

✞ You and Carlos have been best friends since forever. But is platonic love really everything that you feel for each other?

✞ Word count - 2,5k

✞ I have synesthesia! Heres 5 songs that I associate with this fic - "genie in a bottle" - Christina Aguilera, "friends" - Chase Atlantic, "a rash decision" - Ice Nine Kills, "sonne" - Rammstein, "dont be so shy" - Imany.

✞ Warnings - smut, unprotected sex (wrap the beast before the feast, folks), the influence of alcohol. I also wrote the most of it at like 4am, so pardon the quality of it, thank yewww x

✞ Carlos Sainz x fem!reader

As soon as you step into the house, a soft groan of relief leaves your throat. Your heels immediately get kicked off of your feet, and you dont even bother to fiddle with the straps too much. You had a long, long evening - formal settings werent exactly your natural habitat, but being there with Carlos made them much more bearable. You are his best friend, and he is a famous figure, meaning that he invites you to all sorts of events all the damn time. Speaking of which - he was watching you with amusement, completely aware of the fact that you werent exactly in a huge amount of comfort at the moment.

"And whos not making any sense now? I told you not to wear those." Carlos slips the comment your way, making you roll your eyes only hearing the three magic words. He didnt tell you everything, though - yes, he knew how uncomfortable your heels were. And yes, he also knew that walking in them sucked. But he kept something to himself - the fact that only the thought of those heels excited him, as he had always liked to imagine taking them off for you. He could vividly imagine kneeling right in front of you, taking his sweet time, kissing your skin everywhere that he could reach. He liked the idea of it a little too much, to the point he found himself disappointed when the sight of you kicking them off greeted him.

"I had no choice, and you know it. I had nothing else to go with this dress!" You complain, vaguely gesturing at the dress you were wearing - the tired whine in your voice was obvious. Carlos' eyes slide up and down your body as you did so - he had a chance, and he took it. God, he loved this dress - the red, short-ish dress with a slit on the side - the tattoo on your thigh peeked through each and every time that you moved. He got a sudden urge to bite your thigh right there and then, but he knew that hed be overstepping the boundaries.

All he does is let out an amused, half-chuckle type of laugh. He loved listening to your rants. And boy, could you do that just fine - your mouth never closed. And he loved it.

He started slipping his own shoes off, all while watching you walk into your kitchen - your movements were so smooth, to the point that he swore that you were floating sometimes. He doesnt want to have you out of his sight for too long, so he takes his shoes off just a little faster than he normally would, and following your idea of entering the kitchen. There he found you by one of the counters, pouring yourself a glass of wine. He lets a small smile appear on his lips - he just couldnt help himself around you.

"Tired, amor?" His voice floats through the air, smooth as butter on toast, and just as warm. He always used that specific petname for you, and only you. And youd be a liar if you said that it didnt make you feel some type of way - the tone he used never failed to turn you on just a little, despite you two being... friends? You werent too sure at this point. You just shrug at him as a response, still trying to grab a set of words that were coherent enough. You swirl the beverage in your glass around, eyebrows rising up for barely a second before taking a sip.

Yet another thing that he enjoyed about you - watching all those small habits of yours, which you probably dont even notice. He liked observing you, just looking at you. And he didnt even try to hide it - he'd just wink at you each and every time that you caught him doing so, with no shame.

He wasnt exactly shy, but when it came to you... he felt like he was a teenager all over again. You made his head spin, and it was a much more enjoyable high than alcohol could ever provide. Only the thought of you made his chest tighten, the air threatening to escape his lungs. He shouldnt be so nervous around you, he thought. He could get anyone all giggly in the matter of seconds. Proof? Charles. But you were a special case... thats for sure. The roles were reversed - you were the one that had him thinking about you all day and night, wishing to get out of the friendzone that everyone hated oh so much. He might have had a wank or two with you lingering on his mind - the way you smelled, the way your eyes looked at him. If the dictionary ever needed a picture to describe being down-bad, they should just stick one of Carlos in there.

After a minute of him staring at you with your drink, you look his way. It felt like a routine at this point - you look away from him even for a fraction of a second, and you know that youre going to see his goofy smirk staring right back at you. But this time... this time, something was off. You couldnt tell if it was the alcohol, or something else (you had a pretty awesome night, despite the event being a formal dinner, but thats a standard at this point) - he was looking at you with an almost... hungry look in his eyes. He looked like he was about to drill a hole through your soul, and was particularly enjoying himself, shooting the usual wink your way, before walking up to lean against the counter, right by your side. His thigh brushes against yours, the material of the suit against your skin almost making you shiver.

"You know what would make tonight even better?" He speaks up, his eyes never leaving yours. Hes acting all smooth and smug right now, but you could see him swallowing his own saliva, and his cheeks turning just a tad bit more red.

"Spill it, big boy. Im listening." You reply, your voice sounding just as seductive as his, almost making his brain short circuit - and you can see it from the way his grin makes its way back onto his lips. He had always found your teases adorable, honestly. Hats off for that.

"Well..." Carlos hesitated for a second, which wasnt like him at all - he was nervous, and it was an adorable sight to witness. "We could have the evening to ourselves and..." his eyes moved to your lips for a split second, letting his gaze linger on them for way longer than what he had considered the "safe limit". He only managed to speak again in a second, seemingly collecting himself a little better now. It didnt mean that his cheeks werent heating up in embarrassment, though. "Well, you know."

A chuckle slips from your throat upon hearing his offer. He was beating around the bush slightly, but not like you minded. You had always liked this goofball of a man, and his methods of getting his way. You never let them sink in deep, confused on his true intentions behind his actions. But something about this evening... the alcohol has hit your brain already, and awhile ago, and all you could think about was your friends lips all over you.

You down the rest of your drink, and put the glass down on the counter, a little to the right of you. You turn your head to Carlos, once again. He couldnt be more predictable - youre greeted with a sight of him staring at the hand handling the glass, then your waist. Eventually, up to your eyes. You stare back at him. You raise your finger to trace it along his jawline, his chin, the bottom half of his cheeks. He gulps, getting much more nervous than he was before.

"Youre adorable, did you know that?" You whisper right in front of his face, your warm breath hitting his lips. He doesnt even get to respond, before he feels your lips on his. His brain doesnt even register what was happening at first, but his body reacts way before his brain - his left hand immediately went to your hip, pulling you to his body. The other one is now gripping the counter, and he finds himself hoping that his knees wont give out. He could smell the cherry and cinnamon wine on you the moment you got closer, and he doesnt waste any time - he pushes his tongue out of his mouth, hungry and desperate to taste more. He groans, and your hand slides to his neck in response, gripping it ever so slightly, pulling him closer. He takes it as permission to shove his tongue even deeper, earning a little chuckle out of you.

Quickly enough, his other hand goes down to your hips as well, now caressing them with great intensity. The material of your dress slides up ever so slightly, and he just cant wait much longer - he lifts you without even trying, and places you on the counter. His movements are harsh and desperate, and he doesnt notice the glass. He knocks it over, and it shatters to pieces, right on the floor.

"Carlos..." you groan against his mouth, trying to pull away a little, so you could actually look at what just happened. You earn a sigh out of him for that - out of all the scenarios he had imagined of your first time together... all the circumstances of you moaning his name for the first time were not that. He clicks his tongue, and grabs your chin, turning your face to his, slamming his lips back on yours. It was almost like him saying that he really couldnt be giving less shits. He wanted you, and he was forced to wait for way too fucking long.

His other hand travels down to your thigh, now kneading it like his life depended on it. A moan slips from you, right into his mouth. The grip that you still have on his throat only tightens, causing his movements to become even more aggressive.

He tries to slide your dress up to your waist, but the fabric being trapped between the countertop and your body didnt let him. He lets out a slow groan of frustration. Desperate times call for desperate solutions, no? He leans you against his body, leaning back a little himself. That lets him pull the skirt up. He has barely even brushed his fingertips against your skin, but it was just enough to make your certain area feel a little tingly already.

He wants to take off your underwear as well, while you two are at it. He finds that his back cant take much more of being in this position, but he still hesitates about doing that, his fingers tugging the lacy material ever so slightly. You notice it, and grab one of his wrists to guide him to take those off, almost desperately. You can hear him sucking in a breath, but not resisting anything at all.

Once theyre off, he sits you back down to your previous position. His lips pull away from yours first, something that he never thought that he would be doing. He keeps staring into your eyes, his hands reaching to take his own pants off. This man had his tongue down your throat just seconds ago, and even that didnt make your face heat up more than this.

His pants are off in the matter of seconds. For a second there, he was close to fucking you just like this, through the hole his underpants had in the front. He ended up taking the underwear off as well, and it flied off even faster than the pants did, his boner getting freed as well.

He cant resist looking down to your pussy, already so wet and ready for him. So needy. You had always put up a tough demeanour, which you were trying to maintain even now. Adorable, he thought. He looks back up to your eyes while getting closer to you again, his palms landing on your thighs, spreading your legs just slightly. He was desperate, almost shaking with desire. But he still wanted to get your consent. God, you love men doing the bare minimum so much. All you can manage is a brief nod, and its all it takes him - he almost explodes on you. His lips immediately attack your neck, pressing multiple kisses everywhere that he could reach. He was never a man who liked to waste much time, and it shows - he gave his cock a few pumps before entering you right away, yet still taking his sweet time to let you adjust to him. He earns a gasp out of you, as you throw your head back. He cant help himself, and the kisses on your neck turn into gentle bites. You moan a little louder - feeling him on you, and in you was almost overwhelming, and you could already feel the knot in your lower stomach forming. Though, you werent sure if it was that, or his length hitting you deep. Or both.

He was even closer than you were. The precum has leaked long before he even took his pants off. Honestly... Being near you was almost like keeping an infinite edging streak - sexually frustrating torture. He thrusts into you for a few more minutes, and he already knows that hes about to cum. He groans in frustration (but only because you havent reached your high yet - he was disappointed with himself. But its not his fault that you were so... hot) and is about to pull out, but your legs suddenly wrap around his waist, pulling him closer right before he can do that. A loud moan slips from his throat, the warm liquid already filling you up so good. And you find himself shutting him up with a kiss - the sloppiest youve ever had at this point.

His movements stop, his mind hazy from all the pleasure he's receiving. All he can focus on is you, and only you. You were content with leaving things like this, you were honestly about to cum anyway. Just another minute of him staying inside of you... But Carlos seemed to have gotten a different idea. Suddenly, he's in a kneeling position right in front of you, looking up with his pretty eyes. His eyelashes are longer than mine... what the fuck?

However, your train of thought quickly melts away when his tongue makes contact with your clit. He wanted to go slow just to tease you, but all the pretty sounds you were making teased him instead, and he found himself speeding up just a little, making sure to apply some more pressure as well. And, soon enough, youre riding your own high against his face. Both of your breaths are heavy, and both of you could be found smiling.

You both forgot about the load in you, however. You were still bathing in the dopamine after-high, the satisfaction making both of your heads spin. He looked up at you, again. And right at this moment, marrying your best friend seemed possible - something you never believed in.

[saltwaterburns]

even my phone misses your call, by the way

Summary: Elle knows perfectly well that it's a bad idea and that she'll probably regret it when she sobers up, but she still picks up her phone and dials the number of the one she misses the most - you.

Pairing: Elle Greenaway x fem!reader

Warnings: Mentions of a slightly graphic event that happened to the reader, allusions to smut, a few y/n's, no happy ending (for now?)

Author's note: It's day 3 of me watching season 2 after Elle left and it's safe to say that I'm still incredibly wounded, so what better way to project my feelings onto everyone else than writing this! :D For a girl who hates reading angst I sure do love writing it, so buckle up. I'm dedicating this to @bbbbadoobee i hope u like it pls dont hate me

Word count: 4,4k+

Elle knows she shouldn't. She left the BAU for a reason, and it's late. She glances at the clock on the wall, wincing as the time reads close to 3am. But as she sits in her bleak living room, her third bottle of vodka sitting unfinished on the table right next to her phone, she doesn't care about making good decisions. She's lonely. Desperate.

Leaving didn't make her feel any better. She's been lonely for years. She found a home within the BAU, and she doesn't think she'll ever be able to get over it. Get over her team, that at one point became her family.

She's drunk, and she's tired. She should go to bed. Instead, she picks up her phone, and calls you. She misses your voice the most.

It's been years. She doubts you'll answer. She listens to how her phone calls once, then twice, and on the third time when you pick up, she relaxes. "Y/n...it- it's me."

"...Elle?" You ask groggily, sitting up on your bed and trying to rub the sleep away from your eyes with the back of your hand. Wait, what? Elle? You voice your thought.

"Wait, what? Elle? Elle Greenaway?"

Her heart immediately lurches towards you at the sound of your sleep-ridden voice. She can see you so clearly in her minds eye, how you're sitting on your bed, the strap of your sleep top falling off your shoulder, how the freckles painted on your skin form constellations, the same ones she used to trace with her lips.

"Surprise, I guess." Elle responds, her tone a bit off in attempt to seem casual. Her heart is racing right now, but her voice remains steady. "Did I wake you?"

You stay silent for a beat. You don't notice it at first, but the hand you just used to pull the blanket tighter around you and now is resting on your lap is shaking. You can feel your throat constricting and your eyes beginning to sting, both from the lack of sleep and the emotions you're feeling.

"Yeah, yeah you did, but it's fine. Is- is everything okay? I didn't know you still had my number."

Her heart sinks, hearing how off you sound. Your voice quivers a bit, and she can only imagine your face right now, probably pinched and hurt.

"Of course I do." Elle says, and her voice softens a bit. Maybe she shouldn't have called. What was she thinking would happen?

"I just..." She struggles to articulate her thoughts as she rubs a hand over her face. "I needed to hear your voice."

"I, um, I miss you, Elle. We miss you, back at the BAU," You whisper, looking up at the pale ceiling of your room, taking a deep breath to force the tears down. "How are you?"

Your question feels like a punch to the gut, and for a moment, she can't speak. Because how is she actually doing?

"Oh, I..." She hesitates, and swallows the lump in her throat. "I'm...I'm fine." After a few moments, she adds sheepishly, "And I, I miss you guys too..I miss you a lot."

"Did you continue with some sort of federal work at your new um, home?" You ask as casually as possible, the word home leaving a bitter taste in your mouth, because her home should be here, with you, not wherever she is right now.

She's glad you're not prodding her for more information, asking more questions that would be too difficult for her to answer. But she does cringe a bit.

"...No." She finally replies, and her voice is more than a bit embarrassed. "I went...in a different direction."

"That's, that's good, actually. I hoped that you wouldn't. Thought that it would be better for you to leave this life behind, get a chance to heal."

A moment of silence follows that. You don't know what else to say, so you're twisting a strand of your hair around your finger as you wait. But you've always been curious, always digging a little too deep and as you're speaking to her for the first time in years, you can't help but ask.

"Are you happy, Elle?" Was you leaving us worth it?

She listens as you speak, and her heart hurts because when you say it like that, it sounds like you know what's best for her. She thinks for a moment you might tell her to come back, to heal with all of you.

But you ask her if she's happy instead.

And her heart hurts even more because it's the most difficult question you could've asked her.

"Define happy." She says, finally.

From those two words alone you know that she isn't, not fully at least. The perks of being a profiler, you suppose.

"Can you sleep without waking up in cold sweat? Have you managed to stop reaching for a gun that isn't there? Have you stopped being hypervigilant when walking on the street?"

She swallows thickly once you ask her those questions. And the fact that she can't answer any of them with a yes makes her temples ache.

"I..." Her voice trails off, and she shakes her head as if you can see it. "I don't...no. No, not really." She finally says with a sigh. "I can't sleep, I still reach for a gun, and I'm paranoid as ever that someone is after me."

You rest your forehead against your knees that you've tucked under your chest and you bite your lip hard enough to draw blood to keep your tears at bay. All that pain, and and suffering and everything that she's gone through still haunts her, as if her leaving this life behind hasn't had any impact at all.

"I haven't seen you in so long. Did you grow your hair out? Or did you keep the bangs and the bob?"

"The bangs and the bob." She says, and she winces as she realizes how much she actually misses you. If she concentrates hard enough, she can almost feel the ghost of your hands playing with her hair. "I have a few more grays now, though. I'm a real old lady."

You can't help but let out laugh at that, but it comes out wet. You cringe at that. An average person might've missed it but you know that she heard and you know that she has put it together that you're crying. You cringe even more.

"I'm not the youngest anymore either, Greenaway. Sporting a few greys myself under these luscious curls. Thankfully it's not too visible."

You're right - the wetness in your laugh doesn't go unnoticed. Her eyes immediately tear up as well, and she swallows against the lump of guilt in her throat, because she knows she's the reason you're crying right now.

"Yeah, well, you're too pretty to go grey anyway." She's teases right back, but her words are also laced in bittersweetness.

"Always the charmer, huh?" You bite your lip in a smile, feeling giddy for a moment. "Is there, um, anyone special for you nowadays? Are you tied down?"

"No one special, no tied down." She says quickly, maybe too quickly for it to be casual. After a few moments of silence, she adds, hesitantly, "Is there someone special for you right now?"

You shake your head, because how could there ever be someone who isn't her in my bed and in my heart, but then you remember she can't see you so you somehow manage to utter a soft "No."

"There isn't. There hasn't been one, really, ever since you left. You're always in the back of my mind." Your voice quietens as you say the last part.

She can feel her heart start racing when you respond, her body tensing up. She can't believe what she's hearing. There's no one special in your bed, no one in your heart...not even in these last YEARS since she left?

There's this strange, overwhelming sensation that rises up in her. One part of her wants to be angry that you've wasted away waiting for her. But the other part of her, the part that has her heart racing can't help but feel happy. Hopeful.

You keep talking, not giving her a chance to say something in between. "I know what you're gonna say. I can imagine your face and your expression so clearly. You're mad that I've wasted years waiting for you, even though I knew that the chances of me ever seeing you again were close to none. But I just couldn't help it. You can't blame me for that."

She actually laughs aloud at that, because you know her so damn well. She's frustrated, because of course, you've guessed right. She doesn't want you to have waited for her, especially in vain.

She never intended to see any of you again, especially you. And of course, you couldn't help it, because that's who you are. Loyal to a fault.

"You're right, I'm pretty damn frustrated right now." She responds, and her tone is more fond than angry.

"How can you expect me to move on after what we had, Elle? After those nights in the jet? After the nights curled together under the sheets? After we've taken bullets for each other, after I've stitched you up with my bare hands and bailed you out of jail? After that night we spent together right before you left the next morning, leaving me to wake up to an empty bed?" Your voice breaks in the middle of your ramble, and you can feel the hot trails your salty tears are leaving on your cheeks.

"How can you blame me for waiting when you're the only woman I've ever loved?"

You leave her, for the first time in a while, completely speechless. Every event you name flashes before her eyes, so familiar yet so far away. There's so much she wishes she could say, but she's always been a coward when it comes to voicing what she feels.

"Why did you call me, Elle?" You ask, your voice no louder than a gust of wind. Your bed feels extra cold tonight, too large for you to sleep in it alone. You curl up on your side, clutching your phone in your hand.

Why did she call you? She asks herself the very same question, and the guilt begins to chew on her when she realises she doesn't have an answer for you.

"I...." Her voice breaks. "I don't know. I just...I wanted to hear your voice. I missed you, I guess."

Her answer is as unsatisfying as you guessed it would be. For some reason you hoped that she'd confess her own love for you as well, telling you everything you've longed to hear for all these years. But her answer is as vague as always, and the disappointment burns.

"Did you know that Gideon left, too? And that Hotch and Haley got divorced?" You ask meekly, toying with the silky sheets under you.

She knows. She hates herself for it, but she's kept tabs on all the team since she left. She knows about Gideon, about Hotchner's and Haley's divorce, about Haley's ....

Every single time she finds herself reaching for her phone, about to type in a phone number, she has to remind herself that it's healthier for her not to reach out. But each time, it has gotten more and more difficult.

Her voice comes out soft and remorseful. "Yeah, I know, I...I've heard."

Oh.

"I got taken hostage a few months ago. Barely made it out alive, was in a coma for two weeks. Did you know that?"

Her blood runs cold in her veins as you say that, her heart rate increasing immediately. Her hands begin to shake and her eyes widen.

"No. I- no, I didn't know that. You...?" Her voice falters as she begins to ask that question, and she pauses before trying to finish that sentence. "You were in a coma? What happened?"

There's something satisfying about hearing her panic, however cruel that might be. It feels good to know that she didn't reach out because she simply didn't know.

"There was a bomb. I was too close. Hit my head against a block of concrete so hard my skull fractured and my two of my ribs broke off, piercing my lungs."

The moment you say all of that, she actually feels dizzy with panic.

Imagining you lying on the floor in pain, struggling to breathe, struggling to stay alive.. She can feel her nausea rising as her stomach twists.

Elle can't speak as she thinks about all of it. You could've died. She almost lost you and she wouldn't even have known. Would Garcia have told her?

"I'm okay now, though," You whisper softly with a smile, hoping that she can hear it through your voice. "Sometimes I get really bad migraines, but the doctors say I shouldn't have any other complications."

She tries to collect herself, steadying her breath as you tell her that you're okay. Mostly okay, she should say. But you're here, so that's what matters.

"Y-yeah?" She asks, her voice a bit shaky. "How long ago was this, baby?"

Baby. She always used to call you baby. It used to fill you with fluttering butterflies but now it just feels like swallowing acid.

"I think it was at the beginning of the year. It's July now, so 5 months at least." You hum in thought, counting back the months on your fingers. A car drives past your window, the lights flashing, and it feels melancholy. You can't help but let your mind wonder and imagine it's Elle, coming to see you. But she won't, you know she won't.

"Five months..." Her heart aches to think of you going through all of that, dealing with that alone, while she didn't even know. Didn't even check up on you. She hates herself for it, even more than usual. She feels like she's going to throw up.

"Y-you never, did you..?" She can't even get out her question, swallowing heavily. "...call me?"

"...I tried to. I asked Garcia if she could find any way for me to contact you, but she never managed to. You disappeared pretty good on us." You laugh a little, but there isn't any humour behind it. Just a little hurt.

Her heart sinks at your answer, and she closes her eyes in anguish. Goddamn it. Of course you tried to call her. Of course you wanted her there.

"Yeah, I..." She tries to speak, tries to find her words, but she can't. Not when she knows how badly she hurt you.

"M'sorry." She finally murmurs, a bitter feeling bubbling up her throat.

You coo at her. "It's okay, Elle. I'm fine now, aren't I? And you're on the other end of the phone. No need to fret about it now. I didn't mean to make you feel bad with all of this, by the way. I wasn't trying to rub it under your nose. I was just curious if you knew."

She swallows at that. Even now, even after she's abandoned you, left you behind, caused you pain, you're still trying to comfort her. Trying to make her feel better, trying to tell her what she wants to hear.

She doesn't know why she expected something else, but she hates it.

"You're too kind for your own damn good, you know that, Y/n?" Even saying that is hurting her.

You don't know what to say to that. You've never been good with compliments or praises of any sort, so you just blush and change the subject.

"Did you know that Spence and Morgan still talk about you? Oh, Elle would've known this and Elle would've liked that gets thrown around the office pretty often."

A faint smile tugs on her lips and a small laugh escapes her.

Thinking about Spencer and Morgan still having her in their thoughts doesn't make her feel exactly good, but it makes her feel something.

"Really now?" She asks, her voice still a bit rough from earlier, trying to mask her excitement. "What do they say about me?"

"They still value your opinion very highly, even after all this time. It wasn’t always like that, though. Your name has a lot of respect at Quantico now, but it was a very sensitive topic for a good while. You're missed....I miss you, too." I reminiscence, letting my eyes fall shut. If I try hard enough, I can pretend that she's here and that we're talking face to face, not thousands of miles apart.

"Where are you? Are you still in the US? Or did you leave?"

"I'm still in the US," She replies softly, the corner of her lips pulled back in a sad smile. "I'm in New York. I...couldn't imagine going farther than this from here."

"The Big Apple, huh? I've never been. It sounds awesome, though. I'd love to go one day as a tourist, not as a profiler. Fly economy and all that stuff." You laugh softly, turning to lay on your back.

She grins widely because the thought of you walking around New York, on a vacation, having a good time - it seems like a faraway dream to her.

"It is awesome.There's quite a bit to do, and to see. Especially for a tourist that's not on call."

The hours of the night are catching up to you and you can feel sleep pushing it’s dull claws into you, but you don't want to tell her that. Hanging up could mean never talking to her again.

"Is the subway really as dirty as they show in movies?"

She responds with a snort and an eye roll. "It's worse. Far worse."

"Yeah?" you ask, giggling quietly. "You're having hand to hand combat with the rats?"

"It feels like it, honestly," She grins at your question. "Fighting them for a seat, that is. I feel like I've seen more rats and roaches than human people."

You let out a loud laugh at that and cover your face, letting your phone drop from your hand, your heart feeling light.

A genuine laugh escapes her at that, and the sound of it surprises her. When was the last time she had laughed like that? Was it back when she had just started at Quantico?

For a moment, it feels like the years between the two of you have disappeared, and she's in your bedroom, laughing with you as the night deepens. As the noise calms down and both of your breathing returns to normal, you feel tears prickling in your eyes yet again.

"Will I ever see you again?"

Her body goes rigid at that. She was just having a good moment with you, giggling and laughing, and now...her stomach is in knots.

How could she answer your question? She wants to say "yes, of course", but that wouldn't be true. She wants to say "no, probably not", and that wouldn't be fully true either.

Instead, she swallows and says, "I-I don't know, Y/n. I don't know."

You expected that.

"Tell me that I will, Elle. Tell me that you'll be here tomorrow morning, that you knocking on my door will wake me up. Even if it’s a lie. Please tell me." You beg, a sense of urgency and desperation in your voice.

Her heart thumps wildly inside her ribcage as she listens to you. It's like her heart and mind are having a mental battle, because they want completely different things.

She wants to be there. She wants to be the one to wake you up by banging on the door, she wants to see you in all your glory, hair and clothes messed up from sleep, your cheeks puffy...she wants that more than anything in the world.

But it's not so simple. Her mind is reeling with all the reasons why this can't happen, why she shouldn’t grant you the peace of her saying it, but she can't help it. You’ve always been her vice.

"Please tell me that I'll see you tomorrow." you plead again, your voice cracking. Your heart is constricting inside your chest.

Her resolve begins to crumble at your desperation. God, you're begging her. And she can't find it in her to disappoint you.

"You'll see me tomorrow," She finds herself saying, her voice barely above a whisper. It hurts her to say it, because it's a lie. Because it won't be true come the morning, which means she's setting you up for that same disappointment she tried to avoid just now.

You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks with the back of your hand, nodding along, feeling reassured. Kind of.

"Will you- will you hang up, now?"

She doesn't want to. She wants to keep talking to you, but she knows she's keeping you up. She can hear the tiredness that’s laced in your voice.

"Yeah..I should," She murmurs begrudgingly, her voice thick with emotion.

Your resolve breaks.

"I love you, Elle. I don't think I'll ever stop," You can't help but confess, the words feeling like shards of glass leaving your mouth.

Her heart shatters into dust when you say the words. It's the most beautiful and yet the saddest thing she's heard in years.

She knows, of course she does. She’s always known that you loved her. Back when you were sneaking around with each other, when you were convulsing around her fingers, your climax having you cramped up, the three words always fell from your lips one way or another. She just didn’t have it in her to say them herself. But now, she has to cover her mouth to stop herself from confessing the same. Her breathing wavers and her hands shake.

"Don't say that, Y/n. Don't say that," She all but begs, her voice strangled and strained.

"You know that I do. My heart is yours and yours only. You know that, too." you keep on going, your voice thick with emotion.

The words pierce her like a dagger right into the heart. She can't deny it and she can't tell you to stop, so instead, she responds with a soft, broken, "I know, I know you do. And you know that I feel the same.”

"Say it, Elle. Please? Say it properly." You plead her gently, toying with the straps of your sleep top. You suddenly notice that it's one of Elle's old shirts that she left here. You swallow back a sob.

She feels her heart beating erratically as you urge her to say the words. It's such a simple thing, just three little words. Three words that she's wanted to say to you for years, but always held back.

"I love you, Y/n," She finally confesses, her voice quavering. "God help me, I love you."

You laugh softly and close your eyes as you finally let the tears stream down your face freely. Hearing her finally say those three words was probably the most painful thing you’ll ever experience, but it feels euphoric. After all these years.

She isn't sure how to label what she’s feeling. Relief? Anguish? Saying that she loves you should make her happy, but all she feels is a deep aching pain because she knows that it isn't going to change anything. But what’s done is done. She can't take it back now, and she's just made the whole thing so much harder.

"I'm sorry," She apologizes, her voice cracking now. "I'm sorry, Y/n. I love you, I've always loved you, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, honey. You know I'll always forgive you, and this time it isn't even your fault. Thank you for loving me. I love you, too. I'm ready to hang up now, if you want. I know this can't be easy for you either."

She can't speak past the lump forming in her throat. How do you always manage to forgive her? Saying that this time it's not her fault. You're so kind, too kind. But you’ve always been like that, and she feels sick for taking advantage of that. She wouldn’t deserve you even in a million lifetimes.

"Yeah," She manages to croak. "I should go, and you have to get some sleep. It’s late."

"I don't know if you'll call me ever again, but thank you for doing it today. It feels nice, talking to you again. I missed you terribly."

Her heart breaks hearing that you think this might be the last time she ever calls, even though there’s a high possibility that it is. She wants to tell you that she'll call you again, and again and again, but she can't. She can't promise you that. She can't make you false promises, not anymore. So instead she just murmurs, "I missed you, too. Night, baby."

"G'night, Elle.." you whisper, barely audible, and press the end button. A small click sound echoes around the now eerily silent room and you let out a wail, falling on top of your pillows in sobs.

Elle can't move for a few moments after you hang up, just sitting and staring at the wall. She feels numb. Cold. Empty. Why the hell did she do that?

She can still hear the sound of you crying, it was so distinct and full of pain, even through the phone. She's the one that did that, she made you cry. It’s just like the day she left.

With a pained cry, she brings the phone down to her lap and buries her head in her hands, squeezing her eyes tightly shut.

You don't know whether to hate or to love her for picking up that phone tonight and pressing that call button. Your heart feels strangely light after finally being able to free itself from all the emotions it’s had to carry over the years, but your soul feels terrifyingly empty. What now? You just go back to your everyday routine and pretend that tonight didn't exist?

The same thought is racing through Elle's mind. There's a small part of her that's glad she managed to hear your voice again, but everything else...god, she just made things so much harder for the both of you.

You're going to wake up tomorrow morning, and there won't be anyone at your door.

That realization, that she did that to you...it kills her. But right now, she can't undo it. What's done is done.

It's stupid, but as you lay on your cold sheets, alone yet again, falling in and out of consciousness, you can't help but hope that you’ll find her behind your front door as the morning comes.

hi please excuse the repetitive words and the medical talk idk if your ribs piercing your lungs is either survivable or puts you in a coma