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azsazz · 3 months

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Midnight Muse (Part 15)

Azriel x Reader [Art School AU]

Summary: You and your best friend Feyre have just moved into a new apartment for your sophomore year of college at art school. What you didn't know when you signed the lease is that you'd be living next to three rowdy boys.

Warnings: Mentions of throwing up, doesn't actually happen.

Word Count: 4,008

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Masterlist]

Notes: ENJOY. Also, someone plz tell me they got tagged this time 😭

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Everything fucking hurts.

Your head is throbbing like someone is repeatedly hitting you with a hammer. You can’t even open your eyes because the dots of light in your vision are swimming in circles, and you’re pretty sure if you crack your eyes open and squint into the room you’ll surely lose the contents of your stomach, which is still mostly alcohol from last night.

You groan in agony because it’s the only thing you can do. Curling in further on yourself, you tug the covers up over your head, trying to block as much of the sun, creeping steadily in through the windows, as you can.

A deep inhale to try and ease your stomach brings along the scent of freshness; like night-chilled mist and cedar. The smell is so perfectly balanced, familiar and fresh in your aching lungs that it almost lulls you back to sleep. It’s effortlessly masculine and with another luxurious inhale, your brain connects the scent to its familiarity. It’s the same as the soap you’d used when you were forced to stay the night at the apartment next door, while Feyre and Rhysand had been having their public nudy show in your living room.

You want to snuggle into it, wallow in its comfort all day, but your mind is quickly catching up to you, running that specific thought back a second time, but slower.

It smells like the same soap you’d used when you were at Azriel’s apartment after the rainstorm.

Your eyes snap open and your body jolts into an upright position that makes your stomach roil, shoving your head down between your knees.

Fuck. You drank way too much last night.

You blink away the bleariness, the dizziness from your vision, staring down at your lap. You’re still wearing the clothes you’d ambled over to Cassian’s party in, and the fabric sticks to your skin uncomfortably. You feel like shit all around, sick from the alcohol, dirty from the night spent dancing and sweating, and you’re pretty sure your breath smells like you’d licked the floor of the local dive bar.

Another blink brings the sheets into focus, certainly ones that are not yours. These are a deep charcoal color, softer and smoother than anything you’ve ever touched. The thread count must be in the thousands. The mattress beneath your aching body feels like a cloud, and all of the effort that went into curating such a lovely bed surely shouldn’t be wasted.

You’re impressed for all of a few seconds until you lift your head and realize where you are.

Azriel’s room.

It’s easy to tell because your memories of last night slowly roll in like flipping through pages of your sketchbook.

“Look,” Cassian grunts as you stumble again and he has to put you on your feet again. He’s faring slightly better than you right now, but only because there are women to flirt with. “I know our friendship is still kind of new, but if you keep hanging all over me like this you’re going to scare away the ladies.”

You can’t help but to laugh. It feels good, so good that your chest aches with it. Your cheeks are red with drink, and Cassian hasn’t ever seen you grinning so much.

It kind of scares him.

“Where are your keys?” he continues, his hands warm on your hips where he’s trying to keep you from falling flat on your face. Maybe that last shot you’d taken together had been one too many. “Can I pat down your pockets?”

“I know you wanna feel me up, Cass,” you slur playfully, and his name sounds snake-like, with the way you drag out the S.

“Of course I do, (Y/N), any man would be stupid not to want you,” he comments but his words don’t register because the floor is slipping out from under your feet again.

“Feyre has the keys,” you hiccup. Then, “Are we on a roller coaster? The room is spinning.”

Cassian curses, poking his head out of the crowd to search for your missing roommate. She’s with Rhys, no doubt, but he doesn’t see them in the mass of bodies crowding his apartment. What he does see are a lot of disappointed, single women.

He gestures to you and then slices his hand under his chin in a cutting motion, signaling that he’s not with you, even though you’ve wilted against his chest, rubbing your cheek into the soft fabric of his shirt. Cassian watches his message land, their eyes sparkling in intrigue again, and he doesn’t care, he needs to get you somewhere safe so he can take that pretty brunette and her friend to his room.

The safest place in the apartment he knows is Azriel’s room.

“Oh my fucking Gods,” you groan, holding your head when your curse rings in your ears. Of course you’re in Azriel’s room, because you’re fated to end up in situations that will make him hate you even more.

Slowly, you shove the blankets away, slipping your legs over the edge of the bed. The good news is, you feel like you’ve slept for a hundred hours. The other good thing is that you didn’t throw up anywhere in his room that you can see, or smell.

The bad news is that you don’t know where Azriel is.

But at least he’s not currently here to witness you rising from the dead.

Blindly, you reach for you phone, patting across the table next to the bed. In the back of your throat sits a lump that you consciously work to swallow down. Later, you might regret not purging the rest of the sickness from your body, but the last place you want to do that is here, in Azriel’s room. What the fuck did you end up drinking last night? You remember the flaming shots and Cassian throwing out a partygoer who looked awfully familiar.

Then there had been Mor, who had told you all about Rhysand growing up over a few drinks. The longer Cassian had forced the two of you to talk, presumably so he could sneak off to flirt with girls while you were distracted with each other, the more Rhysand’s cousin seemed to relax. Those cutting looks had turned from pinning you to your spot to glaring at any of the girls who came up to the both of you to ask about the hosts of the party.

Mor’s stories had you seeing your roommate’s boyfriend in a different light. And the embarrassing ones were even better. Like the one time they had gone sledding down the slope of Mor’s family home in Colorado. It had been a steep incline and they’d been warned many times not to go down there, but the fresh snow had been all too tantalizing not to.

Their punishment had been to walk back up the hill to the house, and when they were small the trek felt like it was ten thousand steps high. And they had to carry their sleds behind them. Rhysand had thrown up halfway and Mor had gotten sick from the tears of laughter streaming down her face afterwards.

Cassian’s words cut through the smile trying to sluice across your face. Azriel had said something about a date. Your stomach revolts but you don’t know why. The thought of Azriel missing out on one of Cassian’s parties doesn’t seem out of character for the broody man, but going on a date? This is the first you’ve heard about Azriel doing so. You know much more than you’d like to know about his roommates’ sexual lives, but you didn’t think Azriel was even open to going out. You don’t know why you care.

You don’t.

It doesn’t sound as convincing as it may have once been.

He’s ridiculously attractive, so why wouldn’t he be going on dates? He probably has a plethora of phone numbers from girls begging to go out with him. So many that it makes your teeth grind at the thought.

Your fingers connect with your phone and your head throbs at the brightness of your screen, rivaling the sun’s rays spearing through the blinds.

And then you see the time.

“Shit,” you curse, scrambling for the shoes someone had kindly taken off for you. They’re piled at the foot of the bed.

You’re late for class.

Gods, you don’t remember the last time you drank like this. Must have been sometime last year because even with all the wine you’d consumed during your pottery painting with Feyre, Cassian, and Rhysand, you hadn’t felt this badly. This is a next level hangover.

You brace yourself when your hand lands on the doorknob to his room. There’s a lock and it’s flipped shut, so you turn it back carefully, breathing a sigh of relief when the click is quiet.

You freeze in your tracks, breath catching in your throat when you slide the door open.

Azriel is lying on the couch, his body splayed out in a long line. His shirt has risen from where he’s lifted his arm, resting it over his eyes to block the sun coming in through the windows, revealing the cut of his hips. There’s two tattoos painted on the skin that you hadn’t noticed the other night, a pair of feathered wings lining the defining muscle of his hips.

You lick your lips before realizing that in the quiet of the apartment, Azriel is fast asleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest helps give him away. That, and the fact that he’s not snarking at you or shooting daggers in your direction.

It’s your saving grace.

The coffee table shoved in front of the couch is littered with cups and rolling paper wrappers, alcohol spilled across its surface. You have no idea how the glass tabletop has survived the rowdy part unscathed, because you’re pretty sure there was one point in the night where you saw a girl standing on top of it, readying herself to fall into the crowd of people congregated in the living room.

The floor is much the same, and you feel like you’re walking a minefield as you tiptoe around questionable puddles and garbage. The stench of alcohol in the air makes your head spin, your stomach protesting and you press a hand to it, trying to comfort the ache.

You escape the apartment without waking Azriel, breathing a sigh of relief that has the remainders of your final drink swimming up your throat.

You make a run for your apartment next door, and thankfully, Feyre answers your knocking.

You don’t like the knowing look she’s wearing, but she doesn’t pester you while you make a break for the bathroom.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Surprisingly, it doesn’t take you long to get ready for class.

You’d told Feyre to go on ahead without you when she had knocked softly on the door while you had your head in the toilet, but the sound still clanged through your head like a gong. She was going to get coffee with Rhysand before class and asked if you wanted anything, to which you gratefully accepted.

Even though you have plans to meet Lucien at the coffeehouse for a drink, you need something now or you’re afraid that you won’t make it through the day.

As badly as you want to go and be a hermit in bed all day, you don’t want to miss your classes. Alis is bringing in another model and grading what you come up with in class, and you don’t want to be docked points for missing out.

Your other class for the day is Art History, and you need to show up to be able to drink in as much of the different styles of art as possible.

Dressing quickly, your clothes stick to your freshly-showered skin. You shove a baseball cap over your hair because while you had the time to wash your body, your hair had been left neglected until later tonight.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you snag your sketchbook from your desk, shoving all of the loose papers hanging out the edges inside. It’s a haphazard job at best, but you’re already running too late for your liking, and you can organize them later.

Like as you wait for the Gods-awful elevator your apartment building has.

The queasiness in your stomach has gone down but the piece of toast you’d forced yourself to eat threatens to come right back up when you spot Azriel, his own backpack slung over his shoulder, waiting for the elevator.

You can still turn around and hide away, there’s definitely still time to—of course he’s turning around at the sound of your approaching footsteps.

His golden eyes glitter with amusement and you can’t shove away the shiver that slides down your spine like a paint filled brush as he trails you from head to toe.

“Sleep well?” He asks gruffly, and the sound of his voice makes your knees weak. Tripping on your next step, your sketchbook goes flying from your hands, spilling the loose papers you’d just stuffed in there everywhere.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you can hear Azriel curse in surprise, but you feel the hot mortification slicing through your body. There are sketches of his hands fluttering to the ground. Ones you had drawn while working on your last project for Alis’ class, the one where you drew Leonardo’s Study of Hands. Azriel’s had been your inspiration, and there’s sketches of them in all sorts of poses, some more promiscuous than others, and you’re completely fucking mortified.

You drop to your knees, face burning red as you scoop the papers closer to you, praying that he doesn’t see. Azriel’s already crouching down with you, helping gather some of the drawings, and the fact that this is the first time he’s ever seen any of your work is overshadowed by the fact that there’s a piece of thick drawing paper right next to his boot. It’s creased from its fall, half of it turned up at an angle. You can see the wavy lines you’d tried so hard to recreate from memory. If he picks that up and looks at it you will have to transfer schools.

“Don’t touch that,” you almost screech when his fingers close around the edge of the paper. You watch it in slow motion, the clench of his jaw, the way that his eyes flick down to his hands, marred flesh fully on display. Oh Gods, you think you might throw up all over again. He thinks you mean that you don’t want him to touch your things because of his fucking hands. Your throat tightens, heart beating so fast in your chest that you’re sure it’s going to burst through your skin. Quickly, trying to rectify yourself, you plead, “No.” Your voice cracks around the lump forming but you shove past it. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

Azriel’s face is tight as he stands. You scramble, collecting your papers into your arms. He towers over you, even standing, and you don’t like the flicker of muscle in his jaw because he’s clenching his teeth so hard.

You don’t like the shadows writhing through the gold of his eyes, molten with anger.

He hands out the papers he’s picked up and an apology is on the tip of your tongue. Reaching out, you’re just about to grasp them, croak out a thank you, when Azriel drops them.

You watch them flutter to the ground again. The elevator dings and the doors squeal open, but you can’t stop staring at the paper on the ground now. You swallow hard, the mortification bubbling into annoyance.

Azriel’s boots twist in your vision and he enters the elevator without another word.

Your eyes prickle but you don’t know why. The breaths you’re releasing through your nose to keep calm are harsh and shaky. Like Azriel’s hands. You need to go to class, and he can fuck off now.

You dip down and snatch the papers from the hall floor, not caring if they get crumpled in your haste. The doors of the elevator begin wheeling shut but you slip through before they can shut completely, trapping you inside with Azriel.

The tiny, metal box that grinds down the elevator shaft is filled to the brim with tension. You can feel the stiffness wafting off of Azriel’s body, though he’s leaning against the wall like he doesn’t have a care in the world, head currently buried in his phone.

Your anger emits in waves, and you feel like you’re drowning in it. What you had said came out the wrong way. You had in no way meant it in the way that you didn’t want his hands touching your work, but the way you’d seen Azriel go preternaturally still, something flash in his eyes, still makes you sick to your stomach. You want to cry, because they’re not tainted in the least. If anything, his hands are the most beautiful hands you’ve ever seen, imperfect yet so, so perfect.

Of course he had retaliated in the way that he did. You would’ve misconstrued the comment as well, but there’s an itch on your side that tells you he didn’t have to react like that, throwing your papers back to the ground. Another misunderstanding between the two of you.

You open your mouth to speak, but there’s a screeching that’s more horrible than it usually is, and the elevator is jerking to a grinding halt.

You stumble a little, and Azriel steadies you before removing his hands just as quickly. His brows are pinched and the lights in the tiny space flicker before going out completely.

“What the fuck?” You question, pitched higher because of your nerves. You’re stuck, the elevator has stopped working and you’re stuck in it with Azriel. “Oh my Gods, we’re trapped!”

Azriel grunts, punching the buttons on the door. An emergency light flickers on, casting the metal box in a low, fluorescent light. Nothing that he’s doing works, and you’re officially beginning to freak out.

You watch Azriel try to pry the doors open, but even with the bulging of his biceps he’s no match for the metal jaws of death.

Throwing a look over his shoulder, he says, “What are you standing around for, princess? Call the fire department or something.”

“Right,” you respond weakly, pulling your attention from his muscular form. The dispatch is nice about it, sending someone your way and all you have to do is stay calm and await assistance. “Thanks, “ you reply to her, hanging up the phone and turning back to Azriel. “So we wait.”

He looks like he wants to ask more questions, but he nods instead, sinking down and making himself comfortable against the wall. Looking up at you expectantly, you sigh, dropping your bag from your shoulder and collapsing to the floor across from him.

His legs are so long they nearly stretch across the entire elevator, and you can’t help but follow the path back to his eyes, glowing as he watches you. You avert your gaze as quickly as possible.

You don’t know how long it will take for the fire department to get here, so you shoot a quick text to Feyre with your predicament, letting her know that you won’t be able to make it to class and to give your coffee away. Then you send a sad emoji because you really, really needed that caffeine.

Across from you, Azriel’s phone buzzes. He reads it, and then his eyes flicker up to yours in a glare.

“Cassian seems to think that this is funny,” he says, and you don’t know why the deep timber of his voice feels like fingers brushing across your skin. “Why did you tell them?”

“I texted Feyre,” you huff defensively. Crossing your arms over your chest, you level him with your own glare. “I don’t control who she tells.”

Azriel rolls his eyes, shutting off his screen.

It’s silent for a long time. There are no sounds coming from outside of the elevator, and you wonder if anyone has even noticed that it’s trapped. The godsdamned thing takes so long to arrive at any floor that you think most patrons take the stairs now, or give in when the elevator of doom never reached their floor.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt, mostly to break the silence. Azriel raises a straight brow and you flush. Sheepishly, you continue. “I didn’t mean what I said in the hall like that. I just—I didn’t want you to see my sketches.”

It’s the most you can give him without spilling the truth of exactly what the drawings were.

Azriel’s jaw works, and it looks like he’s contemplating something important, with the way he’s assessing you. Maybe he’s trying to read if you’re telling the truth, if your apology is sincere or not. The intensity of his eyes makes you want to pull your hat down over your own face to hide it from sight.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He surprises you by asking.

Your lips part in shock. “What?”

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” He asks again, because he doesn't know how he can word the question any differently.

The question throws you. Azriel’s ignored your apology, and instead he’s asking what you’re doing tomorrow night? Has the elevator getting stuck somehow transported you into the Twilight Zone? Is this even really Azriel sitting here with you?

“Um…nothing?” you respond, and he quirks a brow.

“Is that a question or an answer, princess?”

“An answer. I’m doing nothing. Why?”

He shrugs nonchalantly, tipping his head back to rest against the wall, as if he’s contemplating even finishing his question. He looks ever the picture of nonchalance, but what you can’t see is the way he’s curling his fingers to stop their trembling, the rapid beating of his heart.

“I’m having an exhibition tomorrow night. Would you like to join me?”

What? You’re even more dumbfounded now than if that had been the end of the conversation. An exhibition? Tomorrow night? And he’s asking you of all people?

“Who are you and what have you done with my douchebag neighbor?” you ask, shifting in your spot.

A wry smile cracks his mouth and it makes your heart flutter. “Still here, princess.”

Your mouth twists sourly at the nickname. “Let me get this straight. You want me to go to an exhibition with you tomorrow night?”

“Yes,” Azriel nods, agreeing with the echo of his words you’ve just replayed back to him.

“Why don’t you ask your roommates to go with you?”

“They don’t know about it.”

Huh. You don’t know why Azriel wouldn’t invite Cassian or Rhysand to an exhibition he’s having. Well, you could see Cassian wreaking havoc and drinking too much champagne, but Rhys? It seems like the perfect spot for someone like him.

You mull it over, analyzing him. Azriel waits patiently as you study his eyes. The gold is bright under these lights, looking like two golden bars of sun. He’s never been easy to read, and even right now, as you’re trying with all of your might, you can’t find any flicker of anything that tells you this may be a joke.

You tut, crossing your arms over your chest to stop yourself from wringing your fingers in your lap. “Why me?”

“No one better to go with than someone I’m not trying to impress,” Azriel answers seriously. And, he has a point there. You won’t have to hold back from telling him your honest opinion of his work.

You hope that he’s terrible at art, but you have a feeling he’s anything but.

“That doesn’t give me a lot of time to find something to wear.”

His eyes flash and you wish you knew why.

“Is that a yes?”

“It’s not a no.”

Azriel nods, and that’s that. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at eight, then.”

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Midnight Muse Taglist: @going-through-shit @honeycriess @natashachelsea @thisisew @kennedy-brooke @cat-or-kitten @sourapplex @magical-mischief-makers @reiincarnatiion @ccucumbers @secret-ly-here @throneofsmut @cami26cami @torchbearerkyle @a-frog-with-a-laptop @sevikas-whore @endless-worldss @vellichor01 @bangtans-jagiya @kalulakunundrum @pinksmellslikelove @sakurafrost3-blog @imxnotxhere @bookishbroadwaybish @justdreamstars @i-am-infinite @whichwitchisthebitch @i-am-a-lost-girl16 @sia-r

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#midnight muse #tattoo artist!azriel #artist!azriel #art school au #acotar #azsazz #acomaf #acowar #azriel #azriel x reader #azriel/reader #azriel au

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super-clearlysaltybouquet · 3 months

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The One With the Blouse (2/2)

Part 2/2

Wolfstar x reader Sirius Black x reader Remus Lupin x reader Sirius Black x Remus Lupin Sirius Black x reader x Remus Lupin

Established couple (throuple)

Summary: Sirius apologises, Lily and Remus help

Warnings:

Minor angst

Hurt/comfort

Fluff

Word count: 1.5k

You trudge up the steps of the girl’s dormitory. Tonight at least you know you’ll have an empty room. After a party, Marlene and Mary tend to fall asleep on the couches by the fire. Always the last to leave, and the first to insist on helping clean up. Lily will be with James, recently endowed with prefect duties and a single room, you have no doubt he’ll be taking advantage of the privacy.

You sit in bed and hold yourself tight, calming your rushing heart, and trying desperately to cease the tears that just keep falling. Hours pass, and the loud sounds of youthful jubilance from the party below do too.

You want to believe that Sirius didn’t mean any of it. He seemed almost just as upset as you were when you left the dorm. He has a habit of self-sabotage when things start going too well, Remus did warn you about that. But you aren’t a fan of wishful thinking. It’s far easier to let yourself wallow in the believe that you three just aren’t meant to be, and that they’ll do better without your imposition.

A soft knock on the door startles you, “Y/N, can I come in?”, Lily, that can’t be right. You respond in a daze, and she steps in wordlessly, looking far too sympathetic for your liking.

“Remus said you might need some company”, she smiles.

“Did they enjoy the party?”, you ask, entirely genuine.

“They never came down”.

She moves to sit across from you on the red sheets, her fingers lost in her pockets as she pulls something out. A paper crane.

“Sirius made it for you”, she says, and your fragile heart summersaults.

You extend your hand out, and Lily drops the paper to your open palm. The moment it touches your skin the bird begins to fly. It flutters around you in circles first, then flaps its wings in place between the two of you. It’s beautiful magic, Sirius’s touch is unmistakable. The paper rearranges itself back into its basic form, a flat sheet of parchment with writing on one side.

It reads quite simply:

I’m an idiot. I’m so, so sorry. Will do better. not your fault. Sirius,

It’s not exactly poetic, or even particularly romantic, but you appreciate the sincerity. The spreading, watery ink bleeding between letters - and dark raised tearstains affirms the earnestness of the apology. Lily seems hesitant before she speaks again, but her tone is reassuring, “You know, with him these things are never personal, he used to get like this with Remus when they first started out too”, and that shocks you. They seem like a complete unit now, reading each other’s minds and silent cues in a way you haven’t mastered yet. It seems almost unbelievable to imagine the two of them at each other’s throats.

“I should go talk to them”, you sigh. Despite Sirius’s apology, you've resigned yourself to your fate. Re-playing the events of earlier tonight again and again in your mind, you can’t help but feel shameful. Maybe you overreacted, or you didn’t pay close enough attention to Sirius’s frustrations early enough. As if reading your mind:

“I understand why you’re upset; he told me what he said to you” Lily says, “If James said anything like that I don’t think I’d ever speak to him again”,

“You don’t think I should forgive him?” you ask, eyes looking back to the paper crane. The charmed parchment has re-folded itself perfectly and continues to fly.

Lily shrugs, “Sirius isn’t James, he doesn’t always mean what he says”, and somehow you find that incredibly comforting.

You walk to their dorm, paper crane in hand. Your stomach turns when you knock. There’s a rustle and a small shout from inside before the door creeks open, quicker than you’re prepared for. Remus steps out. His eyes are bright red and puffy, and looking at his hands on the wooden door you can tell he’s been picking at his fingers again. You hate to think that you might've been the cause of any of his pain. “Lily gave you the crane”, he says, half smiling now, and you think things might just be okay.

He cracks the door open further, welcoming you inside with his hand at the small of your back.

“Are you okay?”, you worry, glimpsing between his eyes and his scratched fingers,

Remus nods.

“All better now”, he says, half smile growing into nearly a grin, you believe him.

“Where’s Sirius?”, you ask.

Remus motions his head to the bathroom, and you cast him a bewildered look,

“I cast a silencing charm”, he explains, as if that really explains anything at all, “He needed to calm down”, he adds.

“So, he’s taking a bath?”,

Remus shakes his head and waves his wand. The sound of sniffling and quiet crying finds it’s way through the dorm room, slightly muffled by something indistinguishable.

“He’s got his head in the sink”, Remus says, and you really have nothing to say in response, “We had it filled with ice to keep the muggle beer right, I thought the cold would calm him down”, he elaborates, like an adoringly patient parent talking about a particularly affected toddler. Remus’s tenderness towards Sirius fills you with something light, and warm. You don’t miss the unspoken detail; Remus couldn’t bear to listen to your lover cry.

“He was in the wrong, and he really is sorry”, he says, and you don’t need to be convinced. You wonder how many times they’ve been through this, the arguments and reconciliation you’re only just learning to navigate.

Remus opens the bathroom door for you, and low and behold Sirius’s head is in the sink. Three bottles of beer are parked haphazardly in the corner of the porcelain to make up for the space a human head takes up. He’s still wearing the same blouse. His shoulder are shaking, and his hands are so white gripping the sides of the sink that they’re almost luminescent.

Remus walks up behind him, rubbing circles up and down his back. He gives you a quick encouraging glance before he’s leaning down, speaking softly into Sirius’s ear, “Sweetheart, Y/N is here to talk to you, Lily gave her your crane”.

His head shoots up from the ice, pale and wild looking, like a corpse brought to life. Hair completely drenched, and ice water dribbling off the tip of his nose. He turns to you with wide eyes, looking entirely panicked.

“I’m so, so sorry darling, I’m such bloody idiot”, he spills out, “I didn’t mean any of it, I’m not sure why I said it anyway, and then you were so upset, fuck sweetheart”, his words come out at a million miles a minute, you’re sure he’s taken your time apart to ruminate intently on his misdeeds. He takes a second to breathe, “-then Moony was upset with me too, Walburga sent me a howler yesterday and it got my mood all mixed up, I should have just talked to you, such a bloody idiot”, he pants out.

Remus hasn’t stopped circling his gentle hands up and down Sirius’s shoulders, providing a much-needed salve to the other boy’s anxiety.

“I shouldn’t have left”, You say with regret “I should’ve stayed to talk to you”,

Sirius shakes his head, sprinkles of sink water flicking off the ends of his hair, “I upset you, you had every right to take a minute to yourself”, you nod in response, grateful he isn’t holding your flightiness against you. He seems much calmer now, the ice water, Remus’s touch, and your return serving as the perfect trifecta. It’s all slightly awkward, you’re both unsure how to proceed, stuck just for now in that fumbly post-argument stage. Remus spares you a slightly desperate glance, begging silently for you to say something.

“Thank you for the crane, and the note”, you oblige.

“I meant what I wrote, I’ll do better”, he says it with conviction, and you appreciate the affirmation. “I'll do whatever you want, I’ll strip and flog myself all the way to Holyhead if-”, you interrupt him in haste, you’re not even sure he’s joking.

“-no no Sirius I forgive you, really”, his tense shoulders relax like mountains relieved of their own weight, and in the corner of your eye you think Remus’s do too.

“You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?”, he questions,

“No, I mean it, honest”, and you lift your hand up beside your face, mimicking the action of taking some sort of oath. It puts a slight smile on Sirius’s face. “Come here”, you say, and he collapses into you, initiating the tightest hug of your life. He’s wet and cold, but you couldn’t care less, glad to have him back in your arms.

“Next time, please just tell me if I’m being too fussy, and I’ll give you a bit of space”, you say, muffled practically inside Sirius’s armpit. You feel him nod emphatically, “I promise”.

A warmth has returned to the dorm, and the red and gold accents of the room are suddenly more vibrant. The three of you stay up for a while, just holding one another, and talking softly into each other’s skin.

#wolfstar x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x remus lupin #poly!wolfstar x reader #marauders #poly!wolfstar

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vaamins · 12 days

Text

part one.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 : hope you liked this part two. think I could’ve done better 🥹 it was originally meant to be a happy ending but I thought how would hanahaki ever have a good ending? not proofread.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 : @creative1writings @rmanji @megumisthirdog @jiupark @rjt017 @slvt4erenx @mistymuii @legbouk @asunalinphea !!

𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐖𝐎𝐊𝐄 to pristine white, and a flashing light blinding your vision. You peeled your eyes open, finally registering the horrible ache in your throat that sent stabbing pain down into your chest every time you swallowed.

You only knew of blurred moments and the stark red of your blood. The only memories you could recollect of the night before. The night you had coughed up the whitest flower you’d seen in all your life, and it had come from your very stomach.

For some odd reason, the thought didn’t scare you as much as it should have. It was tantalising beautiful in a way that moved the flesh beating within your ribs.

It was a reminder of the love you would never get. The love you were dying for.

You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, finally taking notice of the room you were in. A hospital room. It’s wall’s so white they were hurting your eyes. You lay hooked to an IV ans countless other machines you didn’t know, and didn’t care for.

How had you lived? The seeding pain that had been in your throat and stomach and chest felt as if you had swallowed fire and were burning from within. You were sure you were going to die, you knew you were going to die. So how had you lived—?

The door creaked open, revealing white hair and blue eyes and a face you knew everything about, but suddenly had become so foreign to you. You had memorised the slope of his nose and the sharp outline of his cheekbones, even the light scar that lay above his right eyebrow one could only see in the dark of night.

‘‘…how are you feeling…?’’ He whispered out, taking a seat beside your bed on the sole chair there. You fiddled with your fingers, twisting the pulse oximeter that lay on your index.

‘‘i’m okay… how are you?’’ Because you had to ask. Because even in your state, you still saw the bags under his eyes and worried for him like a mother fretting over her sick child. Not that you would know much of that either.

Satoru stares at you, then the tubes attached to you and back. His eyes are wallowed in a feeling of sadness you have known all too well. ‘‘…why didn’t you tell us? Shoko? Suguru? Me?..’’

It is ironic to say the least because you know he knows the answer to his own question but he asks anyway. He wants to hear it from your lips, none else, but the regretful look in your eye is too much for him to bare.

‘‘…you know why, satoru. You know why. Don’t… make me say it.’’ You murmur, eyes glued on the view outside the window, watching as the clouds move lazily across the blue sky. It is a beautiful day, you think. One you shouldn’t be suffering on, but when had you ever been able to control the order of things?

Your response is all Satoru needs before he places his white head in his hands, his black shades falling to ground with a clank. The sound reverberates throughout the quiet room in the wake of your answer. You feel sorry. You didn’t want him to grow through such pain and regret.

‘‘…don’t blame yourself Satoru.’’

‘‘…how can I not? When I am the reason you are here? I am the reason you are dying!’’ He croaks out, tears now falling down his cheeks like crystals in the light of the sun shining through the open window. The humming of the machines beside your bed fills your head but still, your eyes are trained on his.

You smile, small and bittersweet. ‘‘It is not your fault Satoru.’’ You grab the hand that covers his eyes, slowly pulling the fingers that dig into his flawless skin away.

‘‘You could not have stopped it. Don’t feel guilty for not loving me back, that isn’t your fault. Now go and enjoy the sun, it’s a beautiful day today.’’

You urge him to leave, not that you want him to leave, no, you would’ve wanted him to stay by your side for eternity but you would never admit that. You wanted him to go and enjoy the day and not be by your doomed side.

He hesitates at the threshold of the door, turning his head back to look at you but you already turned away, your face gazing at the sun, and he wants to say you look magnificent, beautiful as the light falls on your face in just the right places but he decides against it. It would only cause more harm to an open wound. But he count help but feel as he closed the door that there was a certain sense of finality he couldn’t Brian off the situation..

You hear the door click closed, and you feel a pang in your chest. Selfishly, you didn’t want him to go. You wanted him by your side. To kiss you. To show you he loved you like how you loved him but you knew that was a fleeting dream you would never hold onto.

It was sand in your palm and it fell through the cracks between your finger and away, never to be caught again. Satoru was all the colours blended into one at full brightness to you. He was brighter than the sun to you. It was no shocker the room looked so dull after he left.

Later that day, after your friends each individually visited you, wishing you well and health. You sneaked out of your hospital room. The IV and tubes having long been taken off your arms, you walked freely for the first time in hours.

You found yourself on the roof of the hospital, a light breeze passing through the empty place. The night was beautiful, the stars twinkling ever brighter than you’d ever seen them. It was truly a sight to see.

Your eyes were glued on the dark sky, looking and searching for what? You didn’t know but you still kept looking. Maybe it was the hope you had at the beginning of all of this, that maybe you’d get better and somehow be saved, or was it the pain you’d felt from the unfairness of it all.

Suddenly, out of the blue, a cough racked your body, causing you to double over to catch your breath. You hands flew to your throat, as if to ease the coughs you knew would never stop hurting. The pain was horrible, debilitating and you couldn’t breathe.

The sharp ache in your chest intensified as you coughed up something after what felt like an eternity of coughing. Your hand came away from your mouth, stained in deep scarlet.

Lying on the floor was not a flower like how you thought it would’ve been, but two single petals. Even in the darkness, the white of one of the petals was not easily missed. Even from the patches of blood soaking it’s thin material, you could see the colour of snow on the ground. The other petal however, was the darkest black you’d ever seen.

It blended into the darkness and if the white petal had not been lying on-top of it, seemingly glued together by blood, you would’ve never noticed it.

The ache in your limbs intensified even more. The now ringing in your ears was becoming too hard to ignore and the world faded in and out in colours of grey, blue and white. You were so terribly tired.

In more ways than others, you thought as you sat down on the ground. Taking a sharp inhale that only caused you to cause more pain shooting down your chest.

You were so irrevocably tired. Tired of everything. It was no wonder when you lay on the cold surface of the rooftop, your head leaning into its coldness, finding its comfort that when you peered up st the stars, finding comfort in the millions of dots of all colours in the sky, that when you closed your eyes forever, that you closed them eternally.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x reader #jjk angst #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo #jujustu kaisen #jjk

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mavsstar · 1 year

Text

.⋆˚𝐴 𝐿𝐼𝑇𝑇𝐿𝐸 𝐻𝐸𝐿𝑃

Summary︱Bringing a man home only meant one thing for you—boring, meaningless sex. After a pathetic attempt to experience a blissful release, Bucky offers to help out.

Pairings︱DBF!Roomate!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

W.C︱2.2k

Warnings︱18+ this is straight up porn, age gap, reader using a vibrator, slight dom/sub dynamics, моя игрушка means my toy, praise, stomach bulge, squirting, a little bit of aftercare at the end.

Author's note︱I had to make it DBF bc i am a total whore for older men and it's honestly perfect for it. PSA THE READER MET BUCKY WHEN SHE WAS OVER 18. HE DID NOT SEE HER GROW UP. Anyways enjoy :D Feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

You laid on the bed, your body barely jerking as your date thrusted inside you. You wondered what went wrong. It wasn’t that the date in itself was bad, it turned out to be one of the best dates you’ve been on so far. He was a nice and a very attentive man.

“If only he could be that attentive in the bedroom,” you thought.

You let out fake moans to make it seem you were slightly enjoying it and avoiding hurting his ego. Though someone should, so he would finally know how terrible he is be in bed. At least he was pretty so it wasn’t such a terrible loss on your side. You had a decent view.

“I’m gonna cum,” he groaned into your neck.

“Please do so you can leave,” you said to yourself.

With one final grunt his body stilled over yours, dropping all his weight on you seconds later. You placed your hands on his chest and pushed him over. He took it as a silence cue to leave. All that could be heard was the condom being thrown in the trashcan and the sound of his footsteps. You wanted him gone so you could have your own fun.

You didn’t even bother turning around. Not even when he kissed you goodbye. When you heard the door shut, you immediately crawled across your bed to get to your vibrator that was deeply stuffed in the top drawer of your nightstand. You pulled the hot pink wand out and bit your lip in excitement.

A gleeful hum escaped your lips when you pressed the vibrator against your clit and turned it on. You threw your head back in pleasure, your lips parting open as breathy moans left your lips. When you felt the vibrator lose its intensity down to lower vibration you internally groaned but nonetheless tried to enjoy the pleasure.

Just as you felt your orgasm build up, the vibrator turned off. You frantically tried to turn it back on, mumbling a symphony of curses.

“Don’t do this to me now,” you wailed. Though the vibrator was fully dead.

Out of frustration you threw the vibrator across the room, causing a huge thud sound as soon as it hit the wall. At least Bucky wasn’t here to hear any of it otherwise he would’ve fully woken up.

“You have to be fucking kidding me!” you yelled into your pillow, your screams sounding muffled.

Seconds later you heard a knock on your door. “Honey, are you okay?”

You audibly gasped, Bucky wasn’t supposed to be here. You pulled the covers up to your chest just in case he came into the room. “Yeah I’m fine!”

“You sure?” He asked as he entered the room. He smirked when he saw the white sheet clinging onto your body, your fingers clutching the sheet for dear life.

“I th-thought you were supposed to b-be gone?” you stammered out, clearly nervous.

“I got back early.”

“How early?” you questioned, praying that he hadn't heard you and he just came back.

“4 hours ago,” he replied. Bucky took slow, agonizing steps towards you until he reached the side of your bed. “And I heard every little noise you made.”

“Oh no,” you sighed, hiding your face in your hands in embarrassment. “I’m so–oh god!”

You were so ashamed you could barely form a proper sentence. Your cheeks were on fire and you wanted to crawl into a little hole and die. While you were busy wallowing yourself in your mortification, you missed the way Bucky was undressing you with his own two eyes.

“Bucky I don’t even know what to say–I’m so sorry.”

Bucky’s hand softly gripped your chin and turned it so you were now facing him. “Sorry for what, Honey? For having sex? It’s natural, everyone does it.” His thumb swiped your bottom lip, adoring the way it bounced back. “You know what isn’t natural?”

You peered at him with doe eyes. “What?” you asked him.

Bucky mentally made sure to take a picture of you with the same exact look another day. God you drove him crazy with that simple look—his instincts begging him to fuck you senseless.

“To fuck a guy who can’t even make you cum.” Disappointment racked down his body thinking about the fact someone as pretty as you is missing out on oh so much. “Don’t worry, s’not your fault.”

“But what if it is?”

His grip slightly tightened, “trust me it isn’t. They don’t know the first thing about pleasure. If it’s anyone's fault, it’s theirs.”

“To your luck, I know just how to make you feel good.” He bent downwards, his lips ghosting above yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, fully expecting him to kiss you. When you didn’t feel his lips on yours, you opened your eyes and they were mere centimeters away. So close yet so far.

“Please Bucky,” you begged, inching your lips closer to his.

Bucky leaned back, relishing your desperation. “Please what, Honey?” He squished your cheeks together, your lips puckering together. “Use your words.”

“Please make me feel good.”

“Good girl,” Bucky praised. The praise sent warmth down your body.

He dropped his metal arm, slithering his way down to the bed sheets. He slowly starts pulling the sheet down, exposing every single part of your body. When the sheet was fully off Bucky lowly moaned. “I’m going to make you feel so good, you’ll never want anyone else to touch you ever again.”

Desperation won over and you tugged Bucky down with you. Nothing but teeth clashing and hands roaming everywhere on the other’s body. You tugged on the bottom of his shirt, silently signaling him to take it off. Bucky momentarily broke the kiss to peel off his shirt.

Your eyes hungrily ran down his body, it was all like an orgasm for your eyes. “Wow,” you whispered, mainly to yourself.

“You like what you see?” Bucky smugly asked. Bucky chuckled, watching your lust blow your eyes as you instantly nodded while you bit down your bottom lip sensually. “Of course you do, don’t you?”

Bucky chased your lips once again. This time the kiss was slower, more calculated. His hand snaked down to your body and his hand cupped your dripping pussy. Your thighs clenched together as you felt the cold touch from his metal hand.

“You’re dripping моя игрушка,” he growled against your lips. He grabbed your leg and hitched it over his, ensuring it stays open. He swiped his finger across your cunt to gather your wetness.

His fingers circled over your clit, eliciting small breathy moans from you. “Let all those pretty sounds моя игрушка.” Bucky’s middle finger left your clit, traveling down to your weeping hole. “I don’t want you to hold back.”

His finger entered inside you, your walls immediately clamping down on him. Bucky tested the waters and added a second finger. He was enamored with your blissed out face and he wasn’t even trying.

He began to thrust his fingers in and out, making sure to curl his fingers just at the right angle causing your legs to quiver around his hand. “Go on, grind your pretty pussy on my hand.”

You blindly obeyed his order. You grinded your hand on his palm, adding a delicious friction between your clit and his hand. Subconsciously you began to move faster, chasing a sweet, short euphoria.

“That’s it,” Bucky praised, pressing his palm a bit harder. “Just like that.”

Your first orgasm caught you by surprise. You could barely register what was going on before you gushed over his hand, your cum leaking down his fingers. Bucky pulled his fingers out and licked your essence, moaning at the sweet taste.

He pushed your shoulder back, laying you flat on your back on the bed. Bucky quickly pulled his sweatpants down along with his boxers. His cock sprang free from the clothed restraints and slapped his stomach. The tip was drenched in precum making your mouth water.

Bucky crawled on top of you, leaving kisses behind over your exposed skin. Once he was fully over you, he grabbed his cock and swiped it over your drenched cunt, swirling the tip on your sensitive button.

“Stop teasing,” you whined. You reached your hand down to guide him in but he swatted your hand away. With one hand Bucky pinned both of yours at the top of your head.

“Wait,” he warningly growled.

After a few more teasing swipes you felt Bucky’s tip prodding your entrance. Slowly, Bucky slid in and finally gave in to you. The stretch achingly burned yet nothing else has felt better. You felt every inch of his thick cock entering you.

“Oh god–you’re so big.”

“Aww моя игрушка,” Bucky cooed as kissed your nose, “I’m not even fully in yet.”

You looked down and Bucky was right. You both gasped out once he fully sheathed himself inside you. You have never felt so full in your entire life.

Bucky leaned his forehead against yours, his eyes scrunched in pleasure. “God you’re so tight.”

You felt like you were going to die if he wasn’t going to move. “Please move.”

Bucky pulled almost all the way out, ensuring the tip stayed in and then plunged himself deep into you, eliciting a silent scream from you. Your head fell back when Bucky started to thrust inside you. If you thought you felt pleasure before, this was heaven. You never thought someone could ever make you feel this good.

You somehow were able to loosen his grip on your hand. You grabbed his hand that was on your hip and guided him over to your lower stomach. “I can feel you in–here!” you exclaimed when he hit a particular spot.

“Oh there it is,” he muttered as he repeatedly hit your g-spot over and over. “Guess what моя игрушка, if I do this,” Bucky gabbed your leg and threw it over his hip, “you’ll feel so much better.”

“Bucky!” you screamed at the new angle. Tears pricked at your eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. Your walls fluttered around him and Bucky had to bite back his moans.

“No…wanna hear….you,” you pouted. “Bet you sound–so pretty.”

Bucky granted your wish and finally moaned, it was music to your ears. Hearing his moans turned you on even more.

“You’re so fuckin’ tight моя игрушка. I never want to leave your pretty pussy.”

“S’all yours,” you babbled out.

“Yeah? She’s all mine?” You nodded in response. Bucky didn’t really have to ask. Your pussy was his whether you were going to tell him or not. She belonged to him. You belonged to him.

You shook off his hand to unleash your other hand. Both of your hands ascended up his arms and found solace on his biceps. “Harder,” you whimpered. Your voice was barely above a whisper but Bucky heard it as clear as day. Bucky easily complied and thrusted harder.

“Please, please, please don’t stop,” you begged, your nails digging into his biceps. You were sure there would be marks but you couldn’t care less.

“Oh моя игрушка, I don’t think I’ll last,” Bucky groaned out.

You could barely respond with your orgasm rapidly approaching. “I’m gonna–”

“No, not yet. Wait until I say let go.”

“Bucky, I can’t hold it.”

“You can and you will.”

Bucky was determined to cum with you at the same time. He kept the same pace despite wanting to go faster. Though you made it nearly impossible with the way you gripped him like a vice.

“Bucky…”

“Just a little bit more.”

“Bucky I can’t!” you cried out, stray tears falling down your face. “Please!”

“Now,” Bucky practically demanded.

You finally let go of the knot that formed in the pit of your stomach. Your eyes screwed shut as you chanted Bucky’s name over and over like a prayer. It was all a new feeling to you and your body didn’t know how to react. You momentarily blacked out as you let your orgasm ride out.

“Holy shit,” Bucky gasped out, looking down at the mess you made all over his lower stomach that was now mixing in with his cum.

“I’m sorry Bucky,” you mumbled out, still fucked out. “I didn’t mean to.” Bucky shushed you, assuring you it was more than okay that you were more than welcome to gush all over his body.

Bucky pulled out, earning a whine from you. If you could have it your way Bucky’s cock would be inside you all night but you could barely form any words. Your body was profusely shaking from the intensity of your orgasm.

“That was the best sex I’ve ever had in my entire life.”

“Told you I know how to make you feel good. Turns out all you needed was a little help” Bucky boasted. He then handed you a bottle of water, “drink this, you’ll need it.”

While you drank the water Bucky left to go to the bathroom. He came back with a wet rag in one hand and clothes in the other. Bucky quietly cleaned you up, murmuring soft praises to you.

“You did so good for me,” Buckky whispered against your skin. “You were absolutely perfect.” You made a noise of contentment when Bucky slid his shirt over your head. You brought the material up your nose, deeply inhaling his scent.

“I’m never giving this shirt back,” you commented.

“Good,” Bucky replied as he laid right next to you. He pulled you into his chest, his arms wrapping around your shaky body, “it looks better on you anyway.”

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panic-in-the-multiverse · 11 months

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Chocolate & Movies

Pairings: Aaron Hotchner x daughter!reader

Imagine: having period cramps is one of the worst things, but luckily you have a dad who knows what will help, or in other words Aaron Hotchner is the best father you could ask for

Warnings: period, period cramps, pain, you know normal period things (me writing this as a woman knowing full well most men don’t know what I actually mean), hotch being the best dad ever, hotch cuddles, hotch hugs, idk what more

A/N Me 🤝 writing fics for my own comfort

This is my first Criminal Minds fic so I hope I did ok, and if you have a request for Criminal Minds pls send them in

So I’m mainly writing this because my period cramps are worse than normal, and I can take a lot of pain before it gets too much, and my period cramps are usually bad, so thought why not write some comfort fic about it and here we are, this is for anyone who have period cramps so enjoy I guess, sorry that it’s short

Side note: I wanted to ad that this is what usually helps me I’m not saying it helps everyone

You knew you should’ve been up by now, but there was no energy in your body to do so. All your energy went to not cry out in loud sobs of pain. It felt like someone was stabbing knives into your stomach and twisting them around. Any position you tried made the excruciating pain worse. Even the thought of walking to the kitchen to get a glass of water to take with the medication caused the pain to spike up. Your nauseous state didn’t help nor the fact that it felt like you were going to faint as soon as you lifted your head up.

Jack had already left for school and you were supposed to be in your father’s car in ten minutes so that he could drive you to school. However if you had a say in the matter that would not be the case, if you got your will through you’d be at home the whole day wallowing in the pain you got once a month as you (in your dramatic words) bled out.

You were about to take your phone (not wanting to yell) to ask your father if you could stay home when you heard his voice yell out to you. “Y/N, we’re leaving in ten, you ready?” seconds later when he hadn’t gotten a response, your door swung open and the bright light from outside shined inside your once dark room. Your dad saw you laying on the bed and even if he wasn’t a profiler he would still have been able to see the pain that you were trying to hide from showing on your face.

Aaron’s face softened as concern washed over his expression the more he looked at you. He went over to your bed and crouched down, his hand going out in concern towards your forehead thinking you might have a fever and a headache at first, but you felt completely fine against his hand. “What’s wrong honey” he heard you take a deep breath before letting out some few mumbled words “period cramps, hurt a lot”

“You wanna stay home” Aaron noticed how you sighed in relief at his question, and was glad that he had understood the situation right. He got a nod from you and went out of your room to tell the school you weren’t coming in today. Not long after he was back to crouching beside your bed, this time caressing your arm softly.

“I have to go to work, but we won’t have a case for a while so you can come with me if you want, we can stop at the store on the way and get-“ he was cut of by a groan coming from you as you tried to once more not give in to the pain.

“Yeah I’d like to come with you if it means I get to cuddle with you, otherwise I’ll stay here”

“Go get ready, I’ll get you a glass of water for the meds, okay?” Hotch got another nod from you and he went out to leave you to get dressed, well as dressed as pajamapants and one of your fathers oversized hoodie was. You took the painkillers, your phone, charger, headphones and grabbed the coziest blanket you could find and went out to the car.

Not soon after you’d been to the store, bought a ton of chocolate and were now in your fathers office. Aaron had changed from working by the desk to sitting on the couch writing reports as you cuddled into him. Headphones on (as to not disturb your father from his work) as your comfort show was playing on your phone. A bunch of chocolate wrappers were spread around on the floor and desk.

And even later that day when you got home, Aaron cuddled with you as you watched movies and ate chocolate. A heat pad (is that what they are called, I literally have no clue, says the person who always uses them) laid across your stomach, which together with the warmth from your father relieved some of the pain. That along with the fact that Aaron’s hugs could always bring some of the pain away. Maybe it was a dad thing, you didn’t know but you were happy that your father was a great hugger, and that his hugs always made you feel okay.

#x reader #x teen #x teen!reader #x you #x daughter!reader #aaron hotchner x daughter!reader #Aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x teen!reader #criminal minds x teen!reader #bau x teen!reader #period cramps is a bitch tho #Aaron hotchner x female!reader #Aaron hotchner x fem!reader

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builtbybrokenbells · 5 months

Text

CAPITAL VICES | ENVY

Envy: the intense desire to have something that someone else possesses.

Masterlist

Listen while reading: Poison - Alice Cooper

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), dom/sub, sir kink, praise, degradation, bratty sub, lots of dirty talk, name calling, overstimulation, forced orgasm if you squint, drinking, swearing, fighting, mentions of cheating, mentions of breakups/breakups, mentions of hookups, mentions of substance/addiction/withdrawal, mentions of divorce/bad past relationships, mentions of death/dying, mentions of loss of a parent/grief, guilt, regret, depression, general sadness, anxiety, jealousy/possessiveness, very brief mention of guns, sorry if i miss any!

😘 as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

The haze of smoke in the room was becoming overwhelming, and even though it would normally be enticing, now it seemed nothing short of a nuisance. A basket of fries sat in front of you, ketchup lazily pooling next to the pile of fried food. Although originally put there for a dipping sauce, now it’s only purpose was to make the fries soggy and even more unappetizing. Your hunger seemed to have fled you, but in truth, never really existed in the first place. You only convinced yourself to order it as an attempt to resume some sort of normalcy to what life was like months ago. A triple whiskey sat in front of you, deliciously tempting, but the exact opposite of what you needed to feel better. Ray approached you, a knowing look in his eye and his usual, raggedy towel slung over his shoulder.

“Been a while, darlin’.” He leaned on the countertop, looking down at your untouched order. “Missed ya.”

“Yeah, I guess it has.” You chuckled, swirling your ice around your glass. “How’ve you been?”

“Livin’.” He replied, taking a long look over your face. “And you?”

“Oh, you know.” You forced a smile onto your lips, beginning to realize that coming out was the worst thing you could have done. “Working, sleeping, and working some more. An exciting life I live.” You neglected to mention the days of wallowing that had come before your arrival at the bar and the horrific heartbreak you were experiencing. Now that you did not have Jake to occupy your time, you had decided to return to your weekly Friday night routine; drinking yourself into oblivion at the bar and falling asleep alone. What used to be so fantastic was now gut-wrenching, and the thought of returning to an empty bed was killing you.

It had been about a week since your blowout with Jake, and he did well to heed your wishes. Not once had he tried to reach out, and neither did you. As the days dragged on and no contact was had, you slowly started to understand that the relationship was over, and all you could do was mourn what was once so beautiful. Instead of trying to fix things, you thought it was easier to tend to your wounds in seclusion and move forward with your life instead. You hadn’t even so much as looked at a picture of him or spoken his name, and you didn’t plan on it. If you knew one thing about healing, it was that doubling back only ever made it hurt worse.

You missed him, but not nearly enough to lose your dignity by begging for him to come back. If he did not want you, and sex was the only thing you were good for, so be it. He got his fill, and you would not lose any more respect for yourself by running back to him and trying to get him to see you were worth more than that.

“Not spending time with that guy who was with you the other night?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he waited for a response.

“No, definitely not.” You gave a chuckle, shaking your head. “Waste of my time, Ray.” You reminded, forcing him to recall your many drunken ramblings about men.

“He do wrong by you?” He asked, trying to get to the bottom of your quiet brooding. You shifted in your seat, taking a long sip from your beverage.

“No,” you shook your head. “I started it.” You confessed.

“Don’t think you’d be this upset if he didn’t do anything wrong.” He said, polishing the rims of a few glasses that just came from the dishwasher. You shrugged your shoulders, finding the familiar burn of the whiskey comforting. Finally, you seemed to find some sort of connection to the version of you that lived before Jake, even if it was through cheap liquor and the company of an old bartender.

“He did, but the blame is still on me. He might have done wrong, but I was the one who let him.” You let your eyes focus on the grain of the wood in the bar counter, finding it easier to avoid eye contact.

“Darlin’, I think it’s time you stop blaming yourself for everything. What others do to you isn’t your fault, and you’re allowed to be mad at someone other than yourself.” He sat another drink in front of you, noticing you were already running low on liquor. “That one’s on the house.”

“Four daughters really taught you a thing or two about advice.” You gave a solenn smile. “I’ll try my best.”

“Four daughters gave me a lot more than good advice.” He chuckled, wiping down the table as he spoke. The fatherly tone sent your heart into agony. He was so proud of his children, and nearly every time you visited the bar, you heard about all of their accomplishments and struggles. It was a beautiful thing to see a father love his children so dearly, but you could not refute the jealousy that plagued you every time you listened to the stories.

It was not jealousy over the fact you did not have a good father and they did, because in your opinion, your father was the best one in the entire world. You were jealous that yours was not around to speak such admiration about you to others, and he was not there to pat you on the back and speak his own advice. You missed him with a fervor, and in the last week, it was more intense than it had been in a very long time. You wished so badly that you could have your dad by your side, speaking truth about the stupidity of boys and speaking praise about how you were better than what Jake made you feel.

Your mother, of course, could do all of the same things, and your sister too, but it was not the same. Missing your father was the most difficult thing you had ever done, and it made you want to seclude yourself until the pain passed through. You did not want to reach out to the rest of your family for the same formalities; he was the only person who could truly make you feel better, and it had always been that way. You were angry that he was not here to help you through what seemed like your biggest heartbreak yet, even including the broken marriage that crumbled before you ever grew into an adult.

The heartbreak Jake had caused was violent, devastating and above all, deadly. It came about in such a way because your feelings for him creeped up on you, silent and unforgiving as you fell hopelessly in love with him. You had never got along with anyone else so swimmingly, and nobody else in the world had ever made you feel like he did. Most of all, it hurt so badly because he was the last person in the world you expected to hurt you.

He was the first person you trusted enough to know such intimate details about your life, and the first person in which you opened up to without a paralyzing amount of fear. You knew that you had done wrong, and you should not have let your past experience define what could have been with Jake, and if you could, you would take it all back in a heartbeat. You wished you had the ability to respond without all of the defenses you built up so high, and you wished that you could have swallowed your pride enough to realize that all he wanted to do was care for you. You loved Jake more than you ever thought you could, and if you had the chance to do it all again with the same outcome, you still would.

You knew that his response was due to his own hurt, but it did not take away from the things he said to you. You hurt him so much by rejecting him so bluntly and without hesitation, and you regretted it immensely. Jake was the last person you wanted to treat so poorly, because he was the first person to show you kindness at the hands of another. But, when you thought about his harshness for too long, a wave of nauseous overtook you and tears filled your eyes. You had hurt him, but he had hurt you just the same. You did not want to blame him for his actions, especially knowing that they came from a place of pain, but you could not choke down the bitter taste of his insults. If he could change his mind so quickly, you worried that maybe he thought that way all along.

The hurt also stemmed from your complete transparency with him. You opened up, told him more than you’d ever told anyone else, and moments later, he threw your relationship back in your face and denounced it to meaningless sex. To you, the sex was all but meaningless, and you truly thought it meant just as much to him. After the months of shared nights and memories that would stick with you for a lifetime, you hoped that you meant more to him than sexual gratification. You poured your heart out to him, telling stories of a failed marriage and a dead father in hopes that he would keep it safe and maybe in turn, take some weight off your shoulders. It was incredibly difficult for you to tell him so much, especially when you dedicated your entire life to keeping it hidden. It killed you to know that he would turn into a stranger again even after knowing you so well, and that your biggest secrets were in the hands of someone who you no longer wanted to know.

You were so caught up in your internal brooding that you didn't even notice Ray leave your side, nor did you hear the chime of the bell sound above the front door. It was not like you would have turned to look anyway; your interest in anything other than getting drunk was greatly lacking, and worrying about what others were doing would only hold you back from your intentions. If you found yourself concerned about the happenings of everyone else, it was take too long to get to the level of drunkenness you aspired to be, and you would have to stay at the bar far longer than you wanted.

You were a creature of habit, and despite your lack of desire to be at the bar, you needed to feel like yourself again. The only way you could do that was to carry on as if Jake Kiszka never stumbled into your life at all.

Your second drink was threatening the end when you felt someone take a seat beside you. You would not have turned to look if they did not extend a warm greeting, and even then, you wished you had ignored it.

“Hey, Josh.” You forced a smile, knowing that he was the worst person you could have encountered, only second to Jake himself.

“Fancy meeting you here, friend who is a girl.” You were certain that he had just reached out and stabbed you in the chest. The pain was unbearable, and it was nearly blinding. You kept your eyes glued to the glass in your hand, unsure if you could maintain eye contact without breaking down. Then, a fleeting feeling of fear ran through you. ‘Friend who is a girl’ was an awfully endearing term for someone who just broke his twin brothers heart. Either Josh did not know what transpired between you and Jake, or he was exceptionally good at hiding it.

“It is my favourite bar, after all.” You tried to joke with him, but it only made your chest ache with even more intensity.

“I knew there was a reason Jake suggested this place.” He chuckled, having an a-ha moment as he pieced the puzzle together. “It all makes sense now.” He gave an airy sigh, turning to the bartender to order a drink. “And one for her too, please.”

“Oh, Josh, no need for that-“

“I insist.” He was so similar to his brother that it was scary. As you waited for the drinks, you pondered his elusive words for a moment. From all that you knew about Josh, he did not seem deceitful in the slightest. If anything, he seemed like he was a terrible liar. Josh did not know a single thing that transpired, and you would be damned if you were the one to tell him.

Then, an evil idea infiltrated your sorrowful mind. If you pushed Josh in the right direction, he might have the answers to all of the questions you’d been wondering about in the past week.

Your sin had not only effected your relationship with Jake; now, it seemed to have an impact on every aspect of your life, including relationships with even the furthest of acquaintances.

“So Jake wanted to come here tonight?” You asked, trying your best to put on a mask of confidence. You yourself had never been very well versed in deceit, but you knew that it was your only shot at getting any real answers. God knows you would never reach out to Jake yourself, and his twin brother seemed to be the only chance at finding out the truth.

“Yeah, he was pretty adamant about it. I wasn’t sure why until I walked in and saw you sitting up here all alone.” He gave you a grin, turning to thank the bartender as he slid the drinks your way. “I’ll start a tab, too.” Ray nodded, raising an eyebrow at you, the expression full of inquiry. You waved him off, making it clear that you would stay to chat about it later.

“Thank you,” you replied, taking a sip from your new beverage. He shrugged you off, the gesture small and nothing that was requiring of a thanks.

“Jake was sick all week, so when he asked us all to come out, we jumped at the chance. He skipped practice and everything, which is really unlike him. I’ve seen him pick up that guitar with pneumonia.” He chuckled.

“Oh, wow. I didn’t know.” You breathed, realizing then that he took the separation just as hard as you did.

“I’m surprised you didn’t catch it from him. He was so sick he couldn’t even get out of bed. I went over to his place once, but he was asleep so I just let him be.” Josh had no idea, but you were indeed suffering from the same sickness that Jake had. Heartbreak was more deadly than any other virus, and the two of you were plagued with it. Apparently Jake had the same idea as you and was hoping for a peaceful night to drink the despair away. Or, he was plotting for the absolute opposite.

“Yeah, that is strange. He never told me he was sick.” You muttered, lying through your teeth. Of course he didn’t tell you he was sick; he hadn’t told you anything at all since the last time you saw him.

“So was this planned, or is he just pulling a classic Jake move and hoping he’ll run into you?” Josh raised an eyebrow.

“Definitely not planned, so it must be the latter.” You took another long drink from your glass, wondering when the whiskey would satiate the hurt in your heart. When the burn did not even come close to the painful ache, you worried that it might be permanent.

“Something on your mind, friend who is definitely not a girlfriend? You seem off.” You caught his eye, nearly laughing at his statement. He was correct, you were definitely not a girlfriend, and now it was unlikely that you ever would be. You hated the fact that the option was no longer possible, because being his girlfriend no longer seemed like the worst thing in the world. If anything, you almost liked the idea.

“Lots, but nothing important.” You admitted, knowing that you could never profess such feelings to the brother of the man you loved so deeply. Telling Josh before Jake would be blasphemous, and you could not bring yourself to involve him in the mess you made. Well, any further, anyway.

“I think it’s important,” he assured you, trying to hold your gaze in hopes that his eyes would speak the truth better than his words could. You gave him a soft smile, appreciating his kindness but painfully aware that you were undeserving of it. Once he knew the truth, you were certain he would like you a lot less than he did in that moment. You felt guilty that you were maintaining a conversation with him after hurting Jake so much, but you could not explain your need to talk to him. He was the closest thing you had to a friend, even if you did not know him very well. More than that, he reminded you of the boy you missed with such intensity. When you spoke to him, he gave that same sense of home, even if he was not the home you were in need of. He was the vacation while you awaited retirement.

“It’s just work stuff. Had a particularly hard client, and I’m just trying to forget about it.” You lied with ease, the dishonesty beginning to turn your soul black and your morals upside down. For your entire life, you valued the truth, and ever since you met Jake, it seemed like you’d forgotten all about it. You lied to him about your feelings, and now you were lying to his brother, too. You were unrecognizable, the sinful months beginning to morph you into someone you tried so hard to run away from. The devil worked fast, and you had not yet found the strength to tell him to stop. You worried that if you could not find the courage soon enough, you would never recover.

“I’m sure you’ll prove them wrong. If you’re as talented as Jake says you are, I’m not sure how anyone could be dissatisfied with your work.” His name sent another blow straight to your stomach.

When a hand was placed on his shoulder and his attention was pulled in another direction, you were thankful for the break. You needed a moment to regain yourself, and you could not do that with Josh’s burning stare and reassuring words pointed at you. The guilt was eating you alive, and you knew you would have to come up with an excuse to evade his company if you wanted to make it through the night alive.

When you managed to catch your breath and settle the erratic nature of your heart, a hand landed on your own shoulder. You looked back, hoping to find one of the other two boys that did not have any affect on you, but instead, you were met with a sinking feeling in your stomach and an emotionally heavy gaze. You couldn’t believe that he approached you first, but as you looked over at Josh’s smiling face, you realized that it was likely all for the appearance. So, in hopes of avoiding and awkward questions, you threw on your biggest smile of the night.

“Jacob,” you greeted, trying to appear comfortable under his burning touch and unwavering stare. There was an obvious hint of reluctance in his eye which easily confirmed your worry. He was only talking to you on behalf of hiding the truth from Josh. You expected to be greeted with anger, or even distaste for him catching you sitting with his brother, but it did not seem like he felt that way at all. If anything, you felt that behind the reluctance to speak to you, pain was pooling in his expression.

“Long time no see, sweetheart.” The pet name sent your blood cold. What once was so comforting and sweet now seemed like an insult, or a backhanded gesture to get the last laugh.

“Will she be joining our soirée tonight?” Josh asked his brother. The two of you shared a look, and eventually you turned to Josh with a small shake of your head. In that moment, he realized the depth of the situation and a sense of sympathy formed on his face. “I see,” he said, taking a drink from his cup to avoid the awkwardness of speaking again.

“Could I… would you mind… I’d just like a minute alone with him, if that’s alright.” You struggled through the statement, anxiety written all over you. You had no idea what you were doing, but you were too far gone to stop yourself, now. Something about Jake made it so difficult to think before acting.

“Oh, yeah, f’course.” Josh said, nearly tripping over himself to stand. “I’ll grab that booth over there. I’m sure Sam and Daniel will be joining us soon.” He said, not waiting around for a second longer. You watched as Josh disappeared, almost immediately regretting your decision to stay. After a few moments of awkward silence filled with background chatter and obnoxious music, you managed to turn to face him.

“Can you… sit for a minute?” You mumbled, embarrassed to be taking the step. You didn’t notice it, but he was overjoyed that you spoke to him at all. He did come to the bar with intent to find you there, but he certainly did not expect a friendly conversation from you.

“Sure,” he bit down on his tongue, holding back the term of endearment that was begging to be said. He took post in the stool that Josh had previously occupied, looking down at his hands for a moment to gain enough courage to meet your eyes.

You did not know what you were doing, only what you felt in your heart. Had you stopped yourself from speaking and thought about the repercussions, you would have realized how bad of an idea it was to talk to him.

“I’m sorry,” you breathed, looking over at his face.

Maybe you even would have understood that apologizing was giving him the key to your heart again, which would inevitably land you just as hurt and broken as you had been all week.

Doubling back on your promise to stay away from him was essentially pointing a loaded gun at your head, and talking to him was equal to pulling the trigger.

“You’re sorry?” He asked, appalled at the thought of you apologizing. When you asked him to sit, he’d been preparing for the cruelest of insults and the worst of your thoughts. “No, angel. I’m sorry.” You has completely thrown him off track, and every thought he had while waking into the bar no longer existed. The only thing that mattered was your sad eyes and your heart that was splayed so delicately on your sleeve. The hurt was gone, replaced with the longing he’d been burying deep inside himself.

“You don’t need to be.” You shook your head. “Well, you do, but not nearly as much as I should be.” You did not have intent to rekindle the relationship, but you did want to settle the score.

At least that’s what you were trying to convince yourself. As you repeated it in your head, your hands were desperate to reach out for him and your body was aching to be held by him again.

“I shouldn’t have responded like that.” You let out a long breath, trying to gather your thoughts as you poured your heart out to him. “I, uh, I don’t like falling in love, and relationships terrify me, but you didn’t deserve that.” You had no idea why you were trying so hard with him, and no idea why you hoped that he would understand. You didn’t want to be with him, and you didn’t want him to feel like that was your intent. It was better left unsaid, but for some reason, you could not will yourself to walk away from him. Even more so, you could not let him walk away from you again. “I do care about you, Jake. I just don’t really know how to do that anymore, and when you said it so bluntly, it scared the shit out of me.”

“Oh.” He breathed, enthralled in the details of your face. He felt himself falling for you all over again, and this time, it did not scare him nearly as much as the last. You tried to deny it, but you felt the familiar gravitational pull pushing you towards him. You were enamoured with him from the minute you caught sight of his face. “I shouldn’t have thrown it on you like that. It was unfair, and I can see that now. I just… it felt right, and I couldn’t stop myself.” He admitted, almost appearing nervous as he tried his best to be transparent with you the same way you were with him. “I promised you, y/n, and I hate that I couldn’t keep it.” You swallowed thickly, your eyes darting to the whiskey glass in your hand.

“I guess I didn’t keep my promise very well, either.” You chuckled. “I couldn’t even admit it, even if we were playing house every day.” You sipped your drink, hoping that it might calm your nerves. When he looked as if he was waiting for you to continue, you did. “I care about you a lot, Jake. So much that it scares me. I felt it, too, and I don’t know why I couldn’t just say it, or at least respond with less… crazy.” You laughed. For the first time since he’d joined you that night, a smile crossed his lips, too. It was blinding, the kind that you couldn’t fake, and it warmed your heart.

“You’ve always been more than sex.” He confessed, profound and sincere. “You are worth the whole world and more, and I’m sorry that I said that. I didn’t mean it, but it doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt.” You were so relieved that you felt tears begin to prickle your eyes. For the first time since he walked out of your house that night, the world did not feel like it was ending. “And you look stunning tonight, as always.”

“Don’t push it, Jacob.” You giggled, feeling the need to lean over and kiss him. You held back, not out of fear of love, but because you worried he might not want it. There was no way you could stop yourself if he leaned in first, and the more the seconds passed, the more comfortable you grew with the thought.

“You remember the last time we sat here?” He raised an eyebrow, leaning into you so similar to how he did that very first night.

“How could I forget?” You rolled your eyes. “Pretty sure you were wearing the same, tacky dress pants.”

“And you were just as insulting.” He teased, but the look in his eye lead you to believe he was not hurt by your words. Instead, he seemed estatic to hear that same tone of voice again.

“Two condoms in your wallet?” You bit back a smile.

“Three, actually.” He corrected. “Was hoping I could find someone who I could keep with me all weekend.” The look in his eye darkened slightly, letting you know he was thinking of all the filthy things the two of you could get up to with three, uninterrupted days.

“Maybe you’re looking in the wrong place.” You offered, pretending as if you weren’t thinking of the exact same things.

“Am I?” He challenged, leaning just a bit closer. “Don’t tell me I have to do this all over again.”

“A little courtship wouldn’t kill you, Jacob.” You swung your chair in his direction, facing him with the playful look in your eye he loved so much. “How bad do you want it?” You pressed further, leaning down slightly so he had a clear view of the cleavage your dress was allowing.

“I don’t even think I could make it to the bathroom, this time.” The seriousness in his tone was chilling, and in a moment of sheer irrationality, your hand reached over and rested on his. The moment contradicted all he had been afraid of, and although the gesture was small, it was more permissive than anything you’d done in the time you knew him.

He stood, moving towards you and capturing your face in his hands. With great intensity, he leaned down and placed his lips to yours. The kiss was heated, letting you know that he’d been thinking about it just as much as you had in the time spent apart, and neither of you wanted it to end.

For a moment, things seemed perfect.

But, you were far too grown to believe that perfection was possible, and your judgement was momentarily clouded by the yearning of your heart.

When you lived a lifestyle as sinful as yours, the devil had a helping hand in every aspect, and God did not have enough sympathy to grant you enough grace to allow for a moment of peace.

“Too much to say I missed you?” He mumbled against your lips, dreading the moment in which he would have to part from you. It was a phrase the two of you used often, and the answer was almost the same every single time.

“Just enough.” You replied, your heart begging to burst from your chest.

The problem was nowhere near resolved, and all you had done was found an island after being stranded in the ocean. It allowed for temporary relief, but not salvation.

“Can I buy you a drink to make up for it?”

“If we’re keeping score, I’d owe you plenty of drinks.”

“This is more than enough for me, angel.” He assured you, his lips still hovering over your own.

“One drink, then, and I’ll make it up to you later.” You offered, giving him a sly smile. The filthy invitation was subtle, but he could read you like a book. Filthy was the only thing the two of you knew, and it would not be easy to break out of it, even if you both committed to trying.

“Can we skip to that part? I don’t know if I can wait that long.”

“So impatient, Jacob.” You let out a disapproving tsk. “I heard once that the wait makes it all the better.”

“What can I say, sweetheart. You always bring out the worst in me.” His thumb drifted over your cheek, the glimmer of love in his eye returning as if it never left. “Besides, I think we have a lot of time to make up for.” His other hand landed on your thigh, just below the ending of the skirt of your dress. The touch was light, but electrifying. You knew that you could search to the ends of the earth, and you would still never find anyone who even came close to Jake.

“Don’t get yourself worked up, honey. It’ll be a long night for you.” You reached out, your hand landing on his side as you pulled him closer.

“For me?” He raised an eyebrow. The two words sent a rush of arousal straight to your core, and for a moment, you thought you would allow him to fuck you right over the bar top if it meant you could have him again. “Careful, angel. Would hate to have to remind you of who’s in charge.” You squeezed your thighs together to satiate the ache that was steadily growing. He noticed the tense of your muscles under his hand, a wicked look in his eye forming as he realized the mess he was causing between your legs.

“A double whiskey, please.” You tried to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the words came out strained. You were desperate to change the topic, but he was never one to give up so easily. He tightened his fingers around your leg for just a moment, the familiar smirk growing on his lips as he stepped away.

“Whatever you want, baby.” He hummed as he took a seat again, waiting for the bartender to return to the two of you. “Just be sure that’s what you want.” He said, looking over his shoulder at Ray who was serving a group of older men.

“What game are you playing, Jacob?”

“No games,” he promised “I’m just saying, if you want something, don’t be scared to ask for it.” At his words, something inside you snapped. You stood, not the least bit worried about your bluntness, and gave him a hard stare.

‘Self-righteous prick’ you thought to yourself. ‘God, I love it.’

“Meet me in the bathroom.” You said, only loud enough for him to hear. Hiding a smile, he watched you as you stormed towards the bathroom, his eyes focused intently on your ass. With a shrug of his shoulders, he finished the last of your drink, waiting only a moment before he stalked off in the same direction, uncaring about anyone catching you two in the act. When he approached the door to the bathroom, he took a deep breath to calm himself.

He raised his hand to knock on the door, but you swung it open and pulled him inside before his fist even had the chance to hit the wood. Before the door was closed behind you, your lips connected with his in a fervent embrace. As you attempted to push the door shut, your other hand was already unbuttoning his infuriatingly attractive shirt. His hands were on you, roaming every exposed inch of you and familiarizing himself with the feeling of you on his skin.

“And I’m the impatient one?” He smirked against your kiss, unable to hold back his thoughts.

“Shut the fuck up.” You muttered, finally managing to free the last button from his shirt. He reached up, tangling your curled hair in his fist and holding it tightly.

“Watch your fucking mouth.” He warned. Just because he had missed you did not mean that he was willing to give up the control.

“Shut the fuck up, sir.” You repeated, making sure to annunciate the title with as much detail as you could. As much as you missed his company, you missed pushing his buttons far more. “Is that better?

“Do you want me to leave you here all by yourself?” He questioned, the dominance in his voice familiar and incredibly enticing. Perhaps you decided to misbehave just to see it again, because in that moment, you felt at home again. “I will, angel. I’ll go out and order a drink, and you can take care of that ache between your legs all alone.” Your stomach plummeted at the thought of him leaving you on your lonesome. “You don’t like the sound of that, do you?”

“No, sir.” You shook your head, focused on his erection that was pressing into your hip. You doubted that he would do as he said, but you still feared that he might.

“Then lose the fucking attitude.” He ordered, taking a step forward so you were pushed against the wall. “I missed you too, but you need to be good for me, okay? If we’re in here for too long, people are going to notice we’re gone, and then we’ll be in trouble.”

“Okay.” You breathed, agreeing and knowing it was best to get to the point as fast as you could. Avoiding an awkward conversation was in your best interest, and your best interest was his biggest priority. You watched him as he sunk to his knees before you, his fingers bunching up the fabric of your dress and hiking it up to your navel. His lips dusted over your thighs, the sight nearly sending him weak. It had been far too long since he had you like this, but as much as he would have loved to keep you there with him all night, he knew he had to hurry.

“Dressing up for someone, sweetheart?” He asked, letting his fingers trail over the black lace of your thong. He tried to frame his question as inquisitive, but you knew it ran far deeper than teasing you. He was wondering if you had plans to meet with someone else. The thought nearly made him sick, but he felt as though he needed to know the answer.

“No, sir.” You promised. He looked up, catching your eye and living in the moment of sincerity.

“So this is all for me?” He smiled.

“Always.” You reached down, cupping his cheek in your palm. His eyes fluttered closed for a moment, feeling the warmth and wishing it could last forever. His fingers hooked through the sides of your underwear as he slowly pulled them away from your hips. He let the flimsy material fall to your ankles, his eyes heavy and clouded with desire for you.

“You’re too good to me, angel.” He purred, helping you free one leg from the thong. Instead of focusing on the other one, he guided the freed leg over his shoulder and placed a trail of sloppy kisses on the inside of your thigh.

The air between you was different, but in no negative way like you previously thought it would be. It was more passionate, more relaxed, and most of all, more loving. The confession of feelings did not change anything between you two like you feared. It only seemed to made the connection stronger, and so much better. You felt like an idiot for turning him away, and you regretted turning him down without a second thought. All that the two of you were doing was loving; the only difference from then to now was the words being spoken into existence. You cared much too deeply about the small word that held so little value, and not enough about the boy who found home between your legs. Now that you had him again, you vowed to never let yourself be so foolish again.

When his mouth connected with your core, you could not contain the pornographic moan that left your lips. A week to most was nothing, just a small amount of time that was easily forgotten. A week without Jake, however, was no less than torture, especially having left things so badly. The feeling of his tongue on you was addicting, and for the last seven days, you were a woman plagued with the worst of withdrawals. One hundred and sixty eight hours without his touch was excruciating, and ten thousand and eighty minutes without the grace of his presence felt worse than any hell that awaited you in the afterlife.

Any time spent away from Jake was horrible, and you never wanted to be apart from him again.

“Taste just as good as I remember, sweetheart.” He pulled away just long enough to slip in the comment, the husky tone of his voice sending your knees weak. “How fast do you think you can cum for me?”

“I don’t know, baby.” You breathed, already missing the feeling of his mouth. He should have phrased his question better; he was not wondering about your ability to orgasm, but rather how fast he could get you there. The answer was up to him, and he was nothing if not keen on a challenge. Without any further conversation, his tongue had found your clit once again, and this time, he was working with intent. “Oh, fuck.” You whined, tangling your fingers in his hair and tugging at the roots.

The feeling of your fingers knotted in the locks of hair was exhilarating, better than any substance he could imagine. The taste of your arousal on his lips was like heaven, and he was a fool to have walked away from you. You were the best thing his hands ever had the opportunity to touch, and you were the only thing his heart desired. It did not matter if you were in the backseat of a car, or in a dirty bar bathroom, or even laid on the most expensive mattress the world had to offer; the moment was sacred to him, and it had everything to do with you.

He hummed against you, a wordless praise for the beautiful noises slipping past your lips. When you let his name mixed within them, he knew he would never hear a more beautiful sound. He was certain that the world could not offer any more than you, and his name would never sound half as pretty painted on someone else’s lips. He was unequivocally in love with you, and he no longer felt the need to run from it. This was where he was meant to be, foolishly happy and living with his head between your legs.

You let in a sharp intake of breath as he raised his hand to your cunt and slipped his fingers inside of you. Within seconds, he curled his fingers just right and hit the spot inside you only he knew how to find. He knew you better than anyone else in the world, but more than that, he was the only person who cared enough to know you so well. You were a mess, the sounds echoing off the walls adding to the sexual tension in the room and only driving him into a frenzy. Pleasing you had become his favourite pastime, and he was devestatingly good at it. Your hips bucked forward into his hand and his mouth, and you could feel him smile against you.

Driving you crazy had quickly become his trademark, and he was happy he could put the talent to use once more.

You were dangerously close, your walls constricting against him as you tried to fight the waves of pleasure. You body was sticky with sweat and your hair and makeup was likely ruined, but you didn’t care. The only thing that mattered was Jake, just like always. The knot in your belly was begging to unravel, taunting you further with every pump of his fingers and flick of his tongue. You hated how easy it was for him to send you in to such a state, but above all, you were thankful that he’d managed to find you amidst the chaos of the world.

As you began to descend into pleasure, the only thing you could think of was how grateful you were that out of billions of people, you were the lucky one to be able to have Jake.

If you told yourself that months ago, you would laugh and spit in your own face.

But the devil was a master at his trade, and this specific trade happened to be all things sex. It was impossible not to fall victim to it, even if it would eventually be the cause of your demise.

“Please don’t stop, m’gonna cum.” You pleaded, your grip tightening around the strands of hair tangled between your fingers. Your legs began to quiver and your mind quickly dissolved into desperate, obscene thoughts about the boy driving you mad. A particularly coarse moan tore from your chest, letting him know how good he was making you feel. Then, underneath the sound of your pleasure, so quiet that you almost missed, you heard him moan against you. It was filled with emotion, showing you all of him at once; the need for you, the weakness he had in regards to you, and the pure joy he felt from pleasing you.

And it sent you into absolute bliss.

You came hard, your body tensing as he held your hips tightly, keeping his mouth on you for as long as he could. He soaked up the pleasure, letting it settle heavily in his bones. It weighed him down with likeness to cement, forcing him to stay on the ground and live solely to please you for the rest of his life. As you came down, he couldn’t seem to stop himself. His tongue was still focused on your clit and his fingers moved as if he wanted to force you into another orgasm.

“Jake, please stop.” You gasped, the sting of overstimulation infiltrating every nerve in your body. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to pull his head away from you in reaction to the feeling. He did not stop, and he did not even show any signs of slowing. He wanted you to come again, and he wasn’t willing to back down. “Jake,” you tried again, but you knew that he would not stop unless you spoke the right word. A small part of you wanted to, but a bigger part of you wanted to continue. You had learned long ago that whatever Jake was willing to give you was worth more than anything else, and pain from him was worlds better than pleasure from another.

That was the funny thing about the devil; he forced your hand in believing that his torture was bliss.

He let out another moan against you, his cock painfully hard and strained against his pants. He needed you desperately, but not as much as he needed the taste of you on his tongue. It was more than a necessity; it was a matter of life or death. If he pulled away, he feared his heart would stop and his lungs would deflate.

“Fuck!” You yelped, your abdomen painfully tense and your mind swimming with nothing but a need to slow down. Still, he was like an addiction, and stopping was not an option. You too felt as though you would succumb to death if you had to go without him. He knew that despite your protests, you were close to the edge once again. Your body told him more than your words, and the rock of your hips against his hand and the way your walls clenched around his fingers, inviting them further inside told him all he needed to know.

The next orgasm that ravaged your body set your skin on fire and reduced your brain to mush. You could not speak, nor could you even force his name out. Your throat constricted alongside the rest of your body, and sweat began to bead on your forehead. Your hands were too weak to hold on to his hair any longer, and the only reason you were upright was because of his iron grip on you. This time, when you came down, his movements slowed with the beat of your heart. He moved his mouth first, and then his fingers followed. He looked up at your face, his chin glistening with wetness, and a smile blossomed on his lips.

“How was that, angel?” He asked, slowly rising to his feet. You could not form an answer, instead only blinking at him as you tried to steady your breathing. But, your silence was enough of a response for him, and he guided you towards the countertop before you could even begin to recover.

Your head was still spinning as he bent you over the counter and unbuckled his belt. You watched him in the mirror as he spit into his hand, rubbing himself for a moment before he rested the tip of his cock on you. He caught your eye into the mirror, giving you a small smirk as he studied your fucked out expression. Your eyes were glued to his face, memorizing the details of him too, fearful that you might miss something. The seven days spent apart had done nothing but make you dread what life would be like if you never saw him again. Now that he was there, standing behind you with his hands on you, you never wanted to be apart from him again. You did not want to miss out on a single moment of life with Jake, and you felt stupid for not being able to admit it sooner.

“Do you want it, sweetheart?” He asked, his tone low and filled with lust. “Do you want me?”

“I do,” you nodded, your voice raspy and your desperation evident. You caught his eye, a chill running down your spine at the expression he held in his gaze. His jaw was hard set and his nostrils were slightly flared. The sight of him alone was sending you feral, and you didn’t know if you could wait much longer. “Please, Jake. I need you.”

“You need me?” He taunted, pushing his hips forward ever so gently. The feeling of him inside you was thrilling, even if it was just barely. Only the tip rested inside you, and even though you both wanted to go further, the small action was worth more than anything else. You were certain Jake could give you anything, even including the smallest of gestures, and you would thank him until your lungs gave out from a lack of air. Any kindness from him was enough, and you were certain his injustices even bordered pleasure. He was everything, and you couldn’t believe he was yours.

“I need you,” you reiterated, giving him a look of desperation through the mirror. “Please, baby.” You tried again, feeling him push into you a little more. You let out a sigh of relief, knowing that soon enough he would not be able to resist the temptation. “You always make me feel so good.” He took in a sharp breath at your words, finally finding enough kindness to give you what you wanted.

When he bottomed out inside of you, he sat for a moment, completely still as he revelled in the feeling. His eyes were closed, his head tipped back towards the ceiling just enough to expose the muscles of his neck. His adams apple stuck out against his tanned skin, the glisten of sweat on him making the picturesque moment even more beautiful. His shirt was still on his shoulders, but all of the buttons were undone and his chest was bare, begging to be admired. You let your eyes trail all the way from his collarbones, drinking in the detail until your gaze settled on his navel. Then, your stare landed on the sight of his hips meeting yours, thinking about how the two of you fit together so perfectly that it was sinful not to indulge in the ritual.

You clenched around him, biting back a smirk as his eyebrows furrowed in pleasure. He let his hand drift up your back, settling in tight hold on your shoulder. “I missed that tight little cunt.” He muttered, finally meeting your eyes in the reflection again. Your stomach twisted into knots, your legs going weak again just at his words. Behind his pupil, you could see the streak of evil that so often ran through him. When your eyes went out of focus, you swore that devil horns sat atop his head much like the first night you shared with him, but this time they were not hidden in the blackness of night. They were in plain sight, and you did not even believe he was trying to hide it anymore.

It was almost funny, how you had been so scared of his hellish nature in the beginning, and now you had fallen in love with it just the same as the rest of him.

He withdrew his hips slowly and steadily, and then with the force of his hand on your shoulder, pulled you back down on him with a strength that made your head spin. A cry of pleasure fell from your lips as he made it a point to keep up the brutal pace. He was sinister, and that much was obvious, yet you no longer held a fear for his godless power. As time dragged on, a part of your soul had turned vile to match the evil of his own, and the two of you had become one. You could not point a finger at him and call him the devil, because you would have to point at yourself in the mirror and say the same. The wicked nature lived within the both of you, taking over and claiming your body as it’s own. You were possessed by the power, and the two of you ruled hell as one. The fate you feared awaited you was no longer terrifying, because you were now the power you once feared.

You cannot play Russian roulette with Satan, because only he would have the knowledge to create a game so sinister. He passed you the loaded gun, and you put it to your own head even with the knowledge that there was six bullets sitting in the chamber.

You were playing a losing game; after all, how could death itself fear dying?

“This is what you wanted?” He asked, the sound of skin on skin filling the room and leaving little room for anything else. “You wanted me so bad you couldn’t even wait until we got home.”

Until we got home. Insinuating that home was only a place where the two of you existed together, and that home to him was wherever you were.

And god, he was right.

That house was nothing without him in it, and the memories made before his time meant little anymore. He was home, and that house was just a shelter to hide away in until he was there to fill it with love. This time, upon the harsh realizations, you did not shy away from the idea. Instead, you welcomed it with open arms and a smile on your face. Jake was home, a place where you could hide away from the rest of the world. He was a hug after a long day, and a warm blanket after facing the violent cold. He was a place to put your sorrow down, and where you could let the walls of defence fall. He was not the only home you’d ever known, but he was the best one you’d ever known.

You wanted to tell him you loved him. The word was lingering in the air, the sweet taste dancing on the tip of your tongue and it’s soft hand was caressing your cheek. Instead, you moaned his name and told him how good he was making you feel. It was not the confession you wanted to make, but it was enough to satiate the craving until you were strong enough to speak the truth. Sex was the only way you knew how to communicate with him, but you hoped that with time, you would finally be able to speak the words he so badly wanted to hear.

“Shit!” You gasped, his cock slamming into your cervix and sending your thighs rocking into the countertop. You could already feel bruises forming, but you could not find it within yourself to care. When you returned home and took your dress off, it was serve as a reminder that he was real and you weren’t just dreaming of someone so wonderful. A loud slur of moans fell from your lips, and his hand came up to clamp around your mouth while he continued at the same, bruising pace.

“You have to be quiet, sweetheart.” He reminded, but sounds of pleasure were seeping from his own lips. “Those are only for me. You know that.” He tried to keep his voice steady, but you could tell that he was getting close from the waver of his words. You let out a while, muffled by the strong hand anchored to your mouth. “I know, angel.” He sympathized, feeling the same way. “Cum for me.”

You did just as he asked, unravelling around his cock and dissolving into a mess below him. He watched your face in the mirror, studying every miniscule detail and searing it into his brain forever. He never wanted to forget what you looked like when you were experiencing such euphoria at his hands. He muffled every noise that slipped out, and he kept his rhythm until you relaxed against him. When your eyes fluttered open and flickered up to meet his own, he couldn’t stop himself from reaching his own climax. His hips stuttered and you felt him twitch inside of you as he painted your walls with his release. His stature faltered and he slumped over slightly, wrapping you in a blanket of warmth as his chest pressed against your back. He released his hold on your mouth as he pressed his mouth to the back of your neck, leaving a few gentle kisses on the exposed skin.

“We have a thing for bathrooms.” You breathed, looking at his reflection through heavily-lidded eyes. You couldn’t help but feel pure adoration at the sight of his face, knowing for certain that you would never see a more beautiful person.

“You know I can’t help myself around you.” He gave a lazy chuckle, straightening up as he pulled out of you. “Especially when you wear such slutty dresses. You could at least leave something to the imagination.” He joked.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind next time.” You laughed, pushing yourself up off the counter.

“Don’t you dare.” He warned, knowing that he’d miss it more than anything.

“That’s what I thought.” You smirked, moving to clean yourself off as best as you could. “So… we’re okay?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, smiling at the question. “We’re okay, angel.”

“I… uh, I’d like to do that other part more often, too.” You confessed. He took a step towards you, wrapping you in a hug that expressed all he felt for you in his heart. He placed a kiss to your forehead, smiling against you at the thought of building a relationship with you. When he pulled away, he also took the time to fix the skirt of your dress. Then, he reached up and swiped away your smudged lipstick with his thumb. “Sex is great, but I really like spending time with you, too.”

“We can make that happen.” He promised, looking to you with an astounding amount of sincerity in his eyes. “I’m so sorry that I said that stuff to you. You didn’t deserve it, and I will do everything I can to make up for it.” He cupped your cheek in his hand.

“I’m sorry, too.” You leaned into the touch, closing your eyes for a moment to savour the innocent intimacy. “I didn’t want to hurt you, Jake. I don’t want to hurt you, ever.”

“I know,” he said, leaning down and placing a small kiss to your lips. Your heart fluttered and your stomach twisted with joy. Slowly, you began to overcome your fear, because you knew that even the scariest of things did not seem too bad with Jake by your side. “Did you… do you want to come and have a drink with us? I’m sure Josh is out of his mind with worry, now. He really likes you, and I think he’s been scared I was going to fuck it up.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, knowing he was right. “Do you want to come back to my house, tonight?”

“More than anything.” He nodded, the words rushing out of him with a long sigh of relief. “I’ll go and order us drinks. Meet me out there in a few minutes?”

“Yeah, of course.” You nodded, shooing him towards the door. The two of you had already been gone for a suspicious amount of time and you would hate for them to catch on to your act. Jake blew you a kiss as he stepped out the door, closing it gently behind him. You smiled, your cheeks dusting red as you swiped away any fallen mascara specs from under your eyes. You touched up your lipstick and combed your fingers through your hair, and by the time you looked presentable, you could safely leave the bathroom.

You walked out, first noticing Jake by the bar. You sent him a smile, trying to hide the excitement in your eyes as you approached him. It was strange feeling giddy over a grown man, like you were a middle schooler with an embarrassing crush. It was even stranger to know that it was not only reciprocated, but he felt the exact same way you did. You joined his side, smiling at Ray as he fixed your drinks. Jake tucked you safely under his arm, pulling you closer to him as his hand rested on your hip.

“Two double whiskeys.” Ray said, placing the glasses in front of you.

“Thanks darlin’.” You smiled, grabbing yours and taking a long sip out of it.

“Can you combine her tab with mine?” Jake asked, taking a drink from his own cup. You shot him a look protest but he paid you no mind. Ray gave a nod, looking to you as if to ask if everything was alright. You gave him a subtle nod, telling him all he needed to know.

“You head over, I just need to grab my jacket and stuff.” You told him, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Sure thing.” He said, letting his eyes linger over you before turning to join his brothers.

“So it all worked out?” Ray asked, watching you collect your belongings from your chair.

“Seems so.” You shrugged. “I guess things weren’t as bad as I thought they were.”

“Don’t let him break your heart, darlin’.” He said, collecting the empty glasses littering the counters. “You’re worth more than that.”

“I won’t.” You promised, slinging your jacket over your shoulder and holding your drink tightly. “Thanks for being there for me, Ray.”

“I’ve always got your back.” He promised. “I might be old, but I’ve still got fight left in me.” You laughed at his words, nodding in agreement. “Have fun, sweetheart.”

“You know I will!” You called, turning to face the booth that the boys were occupying. Jake was just reaching the table as you began to walk over to join, but he did not sit down. Instead, he seemed to freeze in his tracks and after a few seconds, sent a nervous look over his shoulder at you.

Fear gripped you, but you continued walking towards him in hopes that you were misreading his expression. When you reached the group, you gave a smile to Sam and Danny, but they seemed to have to force their own in return. When your eyes drifted to Josh, he was looking down at his hands settled into his lap. Then, your eyes settled on an unknown girl who was sitting next to Josh in the booth, who was also making quick work at ogling Jake. You swallowed your pride, looking to Jake in hopes of a quick answer or reassurance that this situation was nothing but innocent.

Before he could explain himself, the nameless blonde stood from the booth with a grin on her face, leaning forward without any hesitation and placed a kiss on Jake’s lips. In truth, Jake did not respond, but to you it seemed as if he did. Your eyes were deceiving you on behalf of your broken heart. He placed a stiff hand on her hip, but not in any attempt to draw her closer. He was silently trying to stop her from taking it any further. He was straight as a board, his muscles tense and trying in every way to exude his distaste for the greeting.

When he didn’t respond with enthusiasm, she pulled away and with intent to cover her own bruised ego, shot you a look of daggers. You watched the two, unsure of what was happening, and completely unwilling to find out. The only thing you could do was laugh, and even that came out awkward and painful. It seemed stuck in your throat as tears prickled your eyes.

“Y/n,” Jake warned, taking a step in your direction and completely disregarding the woman who seemed so intent to get his attention. “Please.” He whispered, no louder than a pin drop. He wanted to explain before your mind got the best of you, but your decision was already made. There was nothing he could say to make you feel better.

The real reason he invited his brothers to the bar finally surfaced, and the room was heavy with the weight of his mistake. He’d been so intent to know if you were at the bar waiting for someone else because he had shown up with the intent to entertain another woman. The question was not one of inquire, but an admission of guilt. He had not invited the blonde girl out because he was interested in anything she had to offer; he had invited her to that specific bar on that specific night because he knew you would be there, dressed up and drinking whiskey while you pretended to be interested in the football game playing on the television. He wanted you to see them together, and he was betting on you having a jealous streak. He thought if he could make you jealous, you’d run straight back into his arms.

What he was not expecting was your warm welcome when he’d arrived, nor did he ever think there would be a heartfelt apology. Maturity had lost him when you’d broken his heart, and he wanted to play dirty. He was so immersed in you while you two aired out your thoughts that he failed to remember the other girl who was on her way to meet him there. You always triumphed when it came to anything or anyone else, but this time, your effect on him had been fatal. He dug his own grave and as he stood amidst the chaos he caused, he worried that he sealed it forever.

You wanted to throw your drink in his face, or to scream until your throat was raw and no more sound could be made. You wanted to tell him every bad thing you were thinking and call him every terrible name you could imagine. Instead of any of that, you seemed frozen in place. Your fingers were clasped around your glass so tightly that it nearly shattered under the pressure. Your lips were glued together despite the insults begging to break free. Your eyes held fire but they were calm, which was even more dangerous. He broke your heart once already, but this time, he’d torn it to shreds and discarded it like it was nothing.

There was power in walking away, and it just so happened that walking was your favourite thing to do.

“Enjoy your date, Jacob.” Your words came out clearer and stronger than you thought they would. You feared the familiar crack in your voice would sell you out, but not even that seemed to want to surface. Maybe it was afraid of your consequential anger, too. Your skin felt like there was a million cuts littering the surface, stinging with every pulse of your heart and stretch of your body. Your nerves felt like they were doused in gasoline and he’d thrown a match your way, igniting you without a second thought. He took a step towards you, but you took a step back and shook your head, shutting down whatever idea was running through his mind. He could see the shine of sadness begin to glaze your irises, and he felt equivalent to the dirt on the bottom of your shoe.

“Just listen to me for a second.” He pleaded, knowing that everyone at the table was watching the circus as it unfolded. Horror was not a good enough description for how everyone was feeling, and nobody knew what to do. Worse than that, nobody knew what to expect. The boys were watching you as if you would explode at any second, and god knows you wanted to. But, you were stronger than that, and he didn’t deserve such a reaction.

“Listen to what? I don’t care.” You said, shaking your head. “I don’t care if she’s your girlfriend, or if you weren’t ever planning on seeing her again after tonight, and I don’t even care if she was leverage to hold over my head. I. Don’t. Care.” Your voice was dangerously quiet. Although everyone was sitting right there, they could not hear a word the two of you were saying over the noisy bar atmosphere.

“Don’t say that.”

“I don’t care who she is, I don’t care what you’re doing, and I don’t care about you.” Much similar to his own experience, the heartbreak had turned you vile. You wanted to say whatever you could to hurt him, and you were doing it without insults and profanities. “Every time I start to think that you might be different, or I start think you mean what you say, you prove me wrong. Every fucking time. I’m done, Jake.” With that, you turned on your heel and walked away.

For a moment, you considered leaving the bar, but you could not give him that much satisfaction. This was your bar, and nobody could take that away from you. You did feel reluctant about returning to your normal seat, knowing that you could not face Ray’s knowing stare and worried questions. Instead, you walked to the other end of the bar in the second bartenders section. You knew her, but not nearly as well as you knew Ray, and not nearly enough for her to show you any concern. You drank down the liquor in your cup, the burn achingly strong, yet not nearly enough to distract you from the sound of your own breaking heart.

You ordered another drink, feeling five sets of eyes lingering on the back of your head. Jake watched as you sat down, confused and hurt about your statement, yet knowing that he deserved it for trying to play such a childish game. He was pained to know he hurt you again, and he was pained to know that you would not respond to any attempts to apologize.

So, he did what he knew best, and he carried on as if you never hurt him at all. He snaked his arm around the other girls waist, giving a short apology for the confusion, and placed a lingering kiss on her lips. If you did not care, then neither did he. If he continued on, he thing that maybe you would be upset enough to confront him.

In that moment, the two of you meant nothing to each other.

Well, that’s what you were trying to convince yourselves, at least.

You were furious, wanting to go over there and blow up at him with every single insult you could think of, to hit him and scream and cry because he hurt you so badly. Instead, you allowed yourself to peek over your shoulder with just enough time to watch him kiss her. You felt like someone had just punched you in the stomach. The air was knocked from your lungs and you felt like you were going to be sick. His lips were locked with another girls while the remnants of his orgasm was still threatening to run down your thigh and yours was lingering on his chin.

That seemed to be the most sickening thought of all.

Jealousy flooded you, making your skin prickle with indignation. The next drink that was sat in front of you was gone almost as soon as it was placed there, and you decided it was best to order two at a time to keep up with the ache in your chest. You looked back over at him again, unable to resist the urge. You saw her laughing, flicking her hair over her shoulder as she smiled up at Jake. She was clinging on to whatever he was saying, clearly hoping he would take her to the bathroom and do the same to her as he did with you just moments before.

As you studied the scene, you knew that jealousy was not the correct term for what you were feeling. You were envious of the situation in the booth. You wanted to be wrapped around him, laughing at his jokes and making relationships with his brothers. You wanted what she had in that moment, and you wanted it with a fervor you’d never quite felt before. You could not call it jealousy, because you were not worried about her taking something that belonged to you. In truth, Jake was never yours. You had ensured that long before the night’s events unfolded. You could not be jealous about something that did not belong to you, and Jake did not and he never would.

Envy was a much better description, because quite frankly, you never would have what she did in that moment. You and Jake could not comprehend simplicity, nor could you find the courage to love each other openly. Even from the very beginning, you and Jake struggled. Whether it was bickering because you refuted your connection, or because you simply enjoyed the struggle, it had never been easy. You were green with envy over something you would never have, and what she seemed to be getting so easily. You were sick at the thought, and pained to know that you’d fallen hard enough to feel such devastating emotions.

You felt a tear slip down onto your cheek as you drowned your sorrows in whiskey. Sometimes, it seemed like your own personal holy water. Once the first tear fell, the floodgates opened and your cheeks were soaked with physical reminders of your own stupidity.

You were crying so hard that your shoulders were shaking with the heaves of your chest, and you could no longer see the glass that was held tightly in your hand.

Then, a gentle touch landed on your shoulder. It was unfamiliar, but comforting, and you felt like you knew who it was before you even turned around. His second hand landed on your other shoulder, and you leaned backwards into the touch until the back of your head landed on his chest. Once he knew you were going to be receptive of his touch, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tightly while you tried to swallow down your drowning sadness.

“Seems like you’ve been more than a girl who is a friend all along.” Josh hummed, his hold protective and his heart breaking for you.

“I’ve always been exceptionally good at lying to myself.” You rasped, raising a hand to wipe your cheeks clean.

“Mind if I sit?”

“It’s probably better if you don’t.” You sighed, sniffling away another sob.

“Well, I’ve always been exceptionally good at breaking the rules.” He shrugged, pulling out the chair beside you and taking a seat.

“That’s hard for me to believe.” You chuckled, looking over at him with puffy eyes and a red nose. You were in no state to be socializing, but he didn’t seem to care.

“You better believe it, mama.” He said, taking a sip of his own drink. You cocked your head to the side, a small smile stuck on your lips as you processed the pet name. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asked, pulling a coin from his pocket and tossing it down on the table. He seemed to be the beacon of light in the suffocating darkness. His jokes and bright smile soothed your sorrowful soul, and you wondered what it would be like to be friends with him forever. With Josh around, you had a hard time picturing any sadness at all.

“For you, it’s free.” You assured him. “And this is a quarter. I’m not that steep.” You slid the coin back towards him, watching as he stopped it with his finger. Instead of putting it back in his pocket, he tossed it in one of the tip jars sitting on the bar top.

“I’m honoured.” He gave you a grin, breathtaking and beautiful, but so different than his brothers. For twins, their differences were staggering. “He’s an idiot, you know.”

“To each their own.” You shrugged, picking up a shelled peanut from the dish in front of you for something to fidget with. “Has he been dating her the whole time?”

“Her? No.” He shook his head, almost laughing at the thought. “She was the first girl who was just a friend, but she wasn’t really much of a friend at all. More or less just a girl.” He explained, swirling the ice around his glass with his straw. “I think I ran into her the first weekend we moved here. She was sneaking out sometime in the morning, and of course, I had to introduce myself.”

“Don’t know why I’d expect any less.” You chuckled, recalling the first time you’d ever met him.

“Some people never change.” He smirked. “After that, I never saw her again. Which was fantastic, because I didn’t really like her all that much. Definitely not as much as I liked you.”

“That’s good.” You smiled, waiting for him to continue. You felt honoured that josh liked you as much as he did. He seemed protective of his brother, and rightfully so. You wondered why he thought you were so good for him when all you ever seemed to do was cause Jake pain.

“I met a few girls after that, but they never stuck around. You, though? I could see it in his eyes that day. He never wanted you leave.” He leaned back in his seat, seeming like he was racking his brain for the best way to explain himself. “Usually, the girls leave before he even bothers to get out of bed. Then, he started talking about you all of the time, and I realized that this was more than just a drunken accident. When he wanted us to meet you, I knew he was head over heels.”

“He’s got a funny way of showing it.” You replied, your distaste for his actions clear in your face. “But, I guess I’m not the best at it, either.”

“I never said he was good at showing it.” He laughed. “I love him, but it doesn’t mean I always have to agree with him.”

“True.” You nodded in agreement.

“I think I had a sneaking suspicion that something was wrong when he came home last weekend and slammed his door hard enough to shake the building and then locked himself in his apartment for days. Maybe you and I were both trying to pry some information out of each other, earlier.”

“Sorry about that.” You buried your red cheeks in your glass as you swallowed the liquid down, ashamed of your actions.

“Don’t be, ‘cause I was doing it, too.” He said, admitting to his own guilt. “You don’t have to tell me about that if you don’t want to, but I’m all ears if you need it.”

“I’m the classic sob story, Josh.” You leaned forward, signalling to the bartender to make you another drink. She gave a thumbs up in response. “Divorcée, dead dad, a knack for self punishment and a plethora of commitment issues.”

“Wouldn’t call that classic. You’ve got quite the collection of pain.” He laughed, finding your blunt statement humorous. “Is that why you were so strict on being friends?”

“Yeah, I don’t do the whole dating thing. Divorce usually does that to a person.” You joked, dumping the last of your ice into your new drink and handing the empty to the bartender. “When I met Jake, I was pretty clear about that, but there’s something about him, I guess.”

“And about you, too.” He reminded.

“I thought Jake was on the same page, but we both seemed to blur the lines. We spent so much time together that it would be more strange for us not to fall in love.” You explained. “When he confessed that he had feelings for me, I panicked. I know I shouldn’t have, but I just don’t think I was ready for anything to change. I hurt him, he hurt me, and neither of us were mature enough to apologize.”

“Until tonight.” He corrected.

“Yeah, but then he invited Barbie to drink with you guys.” You grumped, trying to fake cheerfulness as you said the nickname you’d pinned on her.

“May I add some insight?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You caught his gaze, silently giving him permission to do so. “I don’t think he wanted Barbie to drink with us. I think he wanted you to drink with us, but he didn’t know how to ask. He invited her to piss you off, and that was before you guys talked it out.”

“He sure did piss me off, but he hurt me pretty badly, too.”

“I know, and I’m not defending him.” He wanted to make that abundantly clear. “He’s in love, and love makes him stupid. He doesn’t know how to deal with getting hurt, so he just… doesn’t. Or, he acts like a jerk.”

“You seem to know him pretty well.”

“We didn’t share a womb for nothing.” He grinned. “He’s my twin, but he’s also my best friend. I’ve been there through everything, and I’ve seen it all.”

“So you’re not just a brother of the twin kind, you’re also a friend that is considered the best.” You noted, tipsiness radiating from your statement. You liked the banter that always seemed plentiful between the two of you. It reminded you of your own sister.

“What do you think? Do I make a good friend?” He watched you closely as he waited for an answer. After a moment, you nodded.

“A great one, even.” He smiled at your words and you could not seem to ignore the blush of his cheeks.

“I’m not telling you to go back to him, or to forgive him. Although I would very much like for the two of you to be together, sometimes things just don’t work out. Jake’s a lover by nature, even if he tries to pretend he isn’t, and I know he’s cursing himself as he sits there beside her and not you.”

“Lover by nature?” You inquired, now oddly curious about his life. That was something you never would have pegged him for.

“Oh yeah,” Josh chuckled, the liquor clearly getting the best of him. “He loves to love, and he’s as loyal as a dog. When his last girlfriend broke his heart, he tried to put on this tough act and pretend that love wasn’t his thing. He did the hookups and the failed talking stages, and I think for a while he convinced himself he was truly happy with it. When he met you, I think he realized that happy was the exact opposite of how he’s been feeling for the last year or so.”

“She hurt him pretty bad, eh?” You asked, recalling the pained expression in Jake’s eye the last night you had all went to the bar together.

“That doesn’t even scratch the surface.” He grimaced. “I hated seeing him sad, but I was so happy that he actually left her for good.”

“I wouldn’t hurt him like that.” You didn’t even realize the words that slipped past your lips until it was too late. Josh gave you a sympathetic smile as you scolded yourself for letting such a thing slip.

“I know, mama.” He said, the sincerity in his voice astounding. “Why do you think I like you so much?” Your cheeks turned red at his comment, and you gave him a smile.

“I like you too, Josh.” You mumbled. “Thanks for talking to me. I feel a lot better.”

“I’m glad,” he said, looking past you and over at the pool tables. Sam and Danny seemed to be caught in a game that was headed nowhere. As he did so, you looked back at the booth where Jake was sat with the bubbly blonde. He had moved to the opposite side of the table, presumably so he could get a clear view of you and Josh. When you caught his eye that seemed to be glued to the pair of you, your suspicions were confirmed. You did not hold his gaze, nor did you signal that you even noticed him looking. Instead, you stood and brought Josh into a hug, thanking him for caring enough to check on you.

Envy was not a strong enough word to describe what washed over Jake. Yes, he wished he could be the one that your arms were wrapped around and yes, he desperately wanted to be the person who was listening to the tellings of your heart. More than that, he was furious that Josh thought he had the right to be that person for you, and he was broken at the idea of you allowing him to be. He was reaping the consequences of his own actions, and there was nothing he could do but suffer the wrath of the devil for the sins he had committed.

As you pulled away from Josh, you looked back to the booth and saw Jake leaning over the table to capture his date in a kiss. Your stomach twisted with disgust, and you felt frozen in place. The two of you were caught in a game of pain, but you weren’t even aware you were playing. You did not speak to Josh in hopes of upsetting Jake, but he was kissing her in hopes of hurting you. If you had to admit it, he was doing a fantastic job. Your pain was so loud that you barely heard Josh ask you to join them in playing a game of pool.

When he asked a second time, you mustered a nod as you fought back the urge to vomit. He led you towards the table, but your eyes could not seem to stray from the disturbing scene before you. Jake was fighting a battle that he did not need to fight at all. You had no idea what point he was trying to prove, and no idea why he had the sudden urge to stray further from the love you two were trying to rekindle. As you picked up a pool cue, you decided you did not care. When you lined up the first shot, you both knew you had already won.

He was like poison, drawing you in and burning you with every touch. You loved him so deeply even if you knew he was killing you, and it drove you crazy enough that you would even cause him harm just to hear your name on his lips. You couldn’t bear the thought of not having him, but having him too close always drove you to a bittersweet end. You knew it was time to give him up, but you did not know if you could do that at all. For certain, you knew you could not do it without one last fight.

Even as you tried to convince yourself that you did not care about his actions, the color green was bleeding from the walls. The haze of smog in the room had an emerald hue, and the green velvet of the pool table reflected exactly how your heart was feeling. You were certain that if you looked in a mirror, your skin would be following suit, too. Envy was written all over you, stemming from the unnamed blonde who was wrapped around Jake like he belonged to her. It also grew from the knowledge that Jake was letting her, as if he never had a promise to come home with you at all. You might not have seen it, but when it came to belonging, his heart only lied with you. He was yours, even if he could not express it properly.

What you didn’t see was the green vines that were tangling themselves around Jake’s body, slowly strangling the life out of him as his own envy took hold. He watched as you laughed with his brothers, drinking and carefree while you shot at the balls scattered across the pool table. He wished he could have what they did in that moment; you, with a smile on your face and a laugh stuck on your lips. He wanted you, and everything you had to offer, and he felt like an idiot for letting you walk away this time. He did not want to be in the booth with the girl that meant so little to him, and he did not want his lips on anyone but you. His regret was paralyzing, but his pride stopped him from apologizing yet again.

You were both dying as you stood, and suffering as you watched. Both of you had the power to change, but so much sin had infiltrated your lives that doing the right thing no longer mattered. Any moral, and any idea of right and wrong no longer existed, replaced with wicked evil and blind obedience to a higher power that would ultimately take your life. The devil watched as the two of you sealed your fate, laughing loudly as you walked yourselves into his trap. With one more deadly sin to go, he wondered if the two of you would ever realize your wrongdoing before it was ultimately too late.

The only question that remained was one of fate. How much sin could you commit before punishment was due? You were two people who had been sentenced to a lifetime of imprisonment at the hands of your own godless morale, and you were so blind to your own stupidity that you had not even gone searching for salvation. Better yet, you had not even realized that you were in need of it. When the time came and you were ready to repent, the church would turn you away and laugh in your face.

Religion never seems important until you’ve engaged in so much sin that salvation is no longer an option.

you guys didn’t really think I’d be nice enough to let them stay together, especially with wrath as the last chapter? love you 🫶🏻😉

TAGLIST:

@sacredjake @profitofthedune @thewritingbeforesunrise @sacredthethreadgvf @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @freefallthoughts @jaketlover @clairesjointshurt @ageofbajabule @dannys-dream @earthgrlsreasy @starshine-gvf @brujamagik @gvfmarge @ignite-my-fire @twistedmelodies @gretavangroupie @alwaysonthemend @edgingthedarkness @gvfpal @sinarainbows @writingcold @starcatcher-jake @literal-dead-leaf @takenbythemadness @gretasfallingsky @hsfallingsky @freyjalw @itsafullmoon @lyndz2names @blacksoul-27 @i-love-gvf @vikingsisthenewsexy @mp0801 @mindastreamofcolours @indigogvf @sparrowofthedawnsworld @jordie-gvf @cassy-face @highway-tuna @creadliz98 @dancingcarbon @do-it-jakey-baby

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antimatterz · 10 months

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solace

dan heng x gn!reader

summary: life has gotten you down, but he won't let you give up. he's there to hold you together, and he won't let go.

cw: suicidal thoughts – do not read if this triggers you. hurt/comfort, dan heng being the sweetest.

enyo's note: don't mind me this is very self-indulgent. i'm not in a good place at the moment and i would love a dan heng to help me through it. not proofread & might take it down, actually.

content under the cut | masterlist

the world had gotten you down.

ultimately, fighting your mental battles got the best of you. for aeons, you had been fighting the demons in your mind. day after day, you struggled to fend off the darkness, but the shadows that shrouded your inner flame had won. you had been tearing at the seams for months, but you finally broke.

your thoughts were dark, consuming you whole. you were suffering, all on your own. why did life bring nothing but turmoil? you wanted peace, you wanted to enjoy being alive, you wanted to serve a genuine smile to the people around you. but your demeanor was fake, nothing but an act you carefully put on to fool the others. again, you carried your burdens on your own, and you succumbed underneath the heavy weight of it all.

you no longer experienced happiness, all you felt was gloom and misery. you were hopeless, frustrated, frantically holding on to the final strands of light that were rapidly vanishing. honestly, why were you even still alive?

maybe giving up wasn't that bad.

those thoughts pestered you as you spent your time alone in your room. you had reached your breaking point and distanced yourself from your friends. you didn't have the energy left to put on an act, you couldn't muster a fake smile anymore. it was game over for you. life had won.

you had no more tears left to cry as you lay in bed, curled up into a little ball. you've spent the last few hours like that, staring ahead as you let the darkness consume you.

you hadn't eaten today, and your stomach felt empty. but what did it matter? you felt empty in general, you had gotten used to it and it didn't bother you anymore. you deftly ignored it, not even motivated to take care of yourself properly. what did it matter, anyway? you didn't care.

there was a knock on your door, one that you didn't respond to. you didn't want to see anyone, let alone have to explain your miserable state. you chose to suffer alone, after all, not wanting to worry the others. your burdens were yours to carry, you didn't want to bother them with it.

again, the idea of giving up crossed your mind – like it did every other minute. all your struggles, all your burdens, everything would be gone and you would finally have peace. you didn't have any hope left for things getting better. what was the point of trying? maybe life wasn't meant for you. clearly, your mind wasn't wired for this world.

whoever it was at your door knocked again, but you remained silent. you were so far gone, wallowing in the darkness. however, the person didn't give up, and the door carefully slid open.

"y/n?" a familiar voice called out.

you said nothing, not turning around even when dan heng shut the door behind him. footsteps inched closer, increasing speed as he neared your bed.

the mattress dipped under his weight as he sat down.

"march was worried about you because she hasn't seen you in two days," the male explained, hesitating for a moment. "and honestly, so am i. this is very unlike you. are you okay?"

hearing his voice was nice, you had to admit that. it was true; you hadn't spoken to anyone for the past two days, which was sure to raise concern. although you still weren't sure if you were in the mood to face anyone, you still sat up, aversively facing dan heng. you considered lying, simply playing it off as the flu that got you down. but one look into his solemn grey eyes swayed you from your original plan.

"no," you replied, voice breaking. "no, i'm not okay."

dan heng's usually stoic face fell, genuine concern falling upon his features. you must've looked terrible – tired, dead on the inside, dull eyes. your will to live was close to zero at the moment, and it was probably very obvious from the way you looked at him.

he searched your eyes, as if they would tell him what was wrong. for some reason, the way he gazed at you had you feeling vulnerable, tears welling up in your eyes. you felt your will to remain strong in front of others faltering, and it wasn't long before the first sob racked your body.

"hey," dan heng said, surprise lingering his tone. he was quick to reach out and grab your hand, completely dropping his usually cold and distant demeanor. "y/n, what's wrong?"

"everything," you admitted shakily. "dan heng, why is life so hard? why is it trying so hard to bring me down? it's not fair, i try so hard but it just doesn't get better." you were silent for a moment, wondering if you were really going to admit your darkest thoughts to him. you pursed your lips. what did it matter? what was stopping you? maybe it was nice to confide in someone. especially dan heng, the one you considered your closest friend. you continued, "the idea of giving up becomes stronger with every moment that passes. i don't want to live like this anymore."

the raven-haired male seemed genuinely shocked by your confession. his eyes widened, but he quickly recollected himself and shot forward like a bullet fired from a gun. you stumbled back in surprise, but he caught you before you could fall. ever so gently, he cupped your cheeks, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears that spilled.

"y/n, i had no idea you were going through this," dan heng mumbled. "why did you pretend to be happy all the time? why didn't you tell anyone about your suffering?"

"i don't know," you said, lightly shaking your head. "i guess i just didn't want to worry anyone. what goes on in my head isn't pretty. i just kept telling myself it would be better to disappear and–"

"stop right there," the male hushed you, removing one hand from your cheek to press his index finger against your lips. "you're very important to me, angel. i don't want you to suffer alone and even more, i do not want you to go."

there was nothing left of his usual placid demeanor, and the look in his eyes was soft as he gazed at you. it almost made you tear up again, this time for entirely different reasons. this side of dan heng was completely new to you, and it lit a small spark within you. you leaned into his touch carefully, closing your eyes in a small moment of peace. the storm in your mind ceased for a blissful second, and you relished in the feeling dan heng brought you.

"listen, y/n. please don't do this to yourself. please, just reach out to me if your thoughts threaten to get the best of you. you don't have to carry everything on your own. you have march, you have me. and there's welt and himeko. we're a family, we are here for you and wouldn't be complete without you."

dan heng looked at you intently, and you nodded. he was right, you had lost sight of your reasons to live, but he reminded you. you had your astral express family, you had dan heng – who just came to save you from your darkest moment.

letting out a small sigh, he wrapped your arms around you and gently pulled you down with him. you lay like that, safely in his embrace. you felt your inner flame light up a little, and faint strands of hope intertwined with the darkness that occupied your mind, shining a new light. dan heng probably had no idea what he just did. suddenly the idea of ending it all lost its appeal, as if dan heng's embrace mended the pieces of you that had been shattered. he held you together, he saved you from falling apart. you gathered your thoughts, gathered your will, bringing new life to what seemed hopeless at first.

"thank you," you muttered, your voice muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

in response, dan heng gently kissed the top of your head. the loving gesture brought a faint smile to your face – tiny, barely there, but genuine. he was right, you weren't alone.

dan heng was your solace.

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai #dan heng #— enyo writes #dan heng x reader #honkai: star rail #hsr dan heng #dan heng hsr #honkai dan heng #dan heng imagine #dan heng imagines #dan heng x you #dan heng x y/n

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meowzfordayz · 4 months

Text

pms !! pt 3

Rengoku Kyojuro x Reader

Word Count: ~600

CW: period content

Emergency Request Fulfilled: You know how we are tortured by hormones before a specific certain event as wamen each month? Well that's me rn. EVERYTHING annoys me, EVERYTHING upsets me, I want to eat a bazillion things and my tummy hurts. I just feel like 💩 in general and I was wondering how would sweet sunshine Kyo put up with me? 😭

pms !! pt 1, pms !! pt 2

“Feed me,” you grumble, comforter tucked clumsily under your chin as you side eye Kyojuro.

He raises a cautious eyebrow, tender amusement glimmering in his gentle gaze as he says delicately, “But I thought you wanted to nap?”

“How am I supposed to nap with you standing and staring at me?” you retort, sticking out your tongue.

With a loud chuckle, he pats lightly at your head, smiling when you nuzzle into his touch even as you continue glaring at him.

“You insisted that it would be cumbersome for me to join you and that I should Do whatever, but I am happy to cuddle beside you instead.”

Nose crinkling, you glower into the covers, fingers kneading petulantly at the soft fabric. You do feel badly for napping in the middle of the day—no need for him to disrupt his own agenda too—but your stomach is also grumbling, and your feet can’t seem to retain any warmth despite the rest of your body feeling bloated and overheated.

“Well I meant it,” you grunt, vaguely shooing him as you roll over, spine curving away from him, “I’ll be fine.”

Shaking his head with endeared fondness, he leans down to press a careful kiss to your visible ear, plan already forming as he slowly walks toward the doorway — lest you change your mind and demand that he crawl into bed with you.

—

You huff out a displeased sound as he closes the door behind him, resisting the urge to clamber after him, your limbs heavy with fatigue. At least one of us can get stuff done today you scowl, eyelids drooping shut in a valiant, 10 second attempt to fall asleep. It’s no use though. The sun’s too bright (a sore reminder of the beautiful walk you could be enjoying if you weren’t wallowing in the erratic cramping of your abdomen), your brain won’t shut up about Snacks! Hungry!! Angry!!!, and you’re already deeply regretting telling your personal space heater to leave. You reach for your phone, grimacing a moment later when you recall asking Kyojuro to Can you charge my phone in the kitchen? I’ll rest better without it distracting me, cursing yourself for being so responsible.

“I hate this,” you mumble to yourself, shifting onto your back, the ceiling looming tall and empty above you, “Stupid! Dumb! Annoying!-” you interrupt yourself with a low groan, a wave of guttural pain roiling from your ankles to your hips to your shoulders.

And then the door opens, your lover laden with a bowl of instant ramen, a mug of what you suspect is hot chocolate, his laptop in one armpit, and your two favorite movies in the other.

“Kyojuro!” you exclaim, quickly maneuvering yourself upright to help him, “You’re crazy!”

“No worries!” he responds earnestly, doing his best to gesture for you to return to your cozy position, “You said you were hungry, but also tired, so I figured I would feed you and put on a movie or two!”

You watch with awestruck skepticism as he safely crosses the room, the ramen promptly nestled into your lap while the hot chocolate makes it to the bedside table.

“Would you like company?”

He’d leave again if you preferred, but looking at his adoring grin, it’s impossible to deny him.

“Absolutely!” you declare, toes wiggling in anticipation, eager to dig into his toasty calves, “I always like your company.”

—

When you inevitably doze off, Kyojuro joins you, oblivious to you drooling onto his shirt as he snores faintly into your hair.

#kyojuro rengoku #rengoku kyojuro #kyojuro x reader #rengoku x reader #flame hashira #drabble #modern au #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer

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m4ttsturn · 5 months

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my brother's best friend (pt 1)

pt 2 pt 3 pt 4

pairing: matt sturniolo x y/n

summary: over the years you find yourself falling more in love with your brother's best friend.

warnings: none yet

this is the first story I've ever written, so sorry if it's bad. anyway, hope you guys enjoy.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

(the first day i saw him)

"mom!" I ran down the stairs. "yeah, what do you need?" "where's Nate? he said he would go to the movies with me over an hour ago." I was beginning to get upset, Nate promised that he would take me to see Spider-Man Homecoming with him. "I'm not sure, he said he would be home by 5" she responded. I let out a heavy sigh before walking out of the kitchen.

I went into the living room and sat on the couch, aimlessly scrolling on my phone. I watched as the minutes on the clock slowly ticked by, my eyes flicking to the front door every few seconds. it had been 3 hours before Nate had finally showed up, laughing as he walked through the door. three boys followed close behind him.

"dude that movie was so good" Nate said as he kicked off his shoes. "yeah, I still can't believe the way Spider-Man saved the Avenger's plane" one of the other boys spoke. I coughed loudly drawing the attention of my brother and his friends in the entryway. making eye contact with Nate, his face flashing with realization. "oh shit, y/n I'm so sor-" Nate tried to speak, but I stood up abruptly off the couch walking to my room and slamming the door.

the second I closed the door I could feel my eyes watering. it was one thing for Nate to blow of our plans because his practice ran late or something, but for him to go without me even though we had planned this out ever since the trailer came out, hurt. especially since he went with three people I've never met instead.

I jumped onto my bed, burying my face into the pillows. I could hear four sets of footsteps approaching my bedroom before someone knocked on the door. I knew it was Nate because he used the secret knock combination we came up with in order to tell if it was each other or our parents knocking. "go away Nate" my voice was muffled by the pillow. Nate had opened the door anyway, "y/n look I'm sorry, I totally forgot that we were planning to go to the movies today" I turned to face him when he spoke "yeah, yeah whatever Nate."

I glanced around him, taking in the appearance of his friends, each looking similar, but I could tell the differences once I looked a little longer. I made eye contact with the boy who was standing behind them all, almost not visible. I blushed and turned my head away so none of them could see it. "you can go, you obviously want to hang out with these people more than me anyway." Nate gave me a sad expression before walking out of my room, closing the door behind him. as I listened to the sounds of footsteps furthering from my door I decided to read a book instead of wallowing around.

the next time I looked at the clock it read 12:37 am. I decided that I might as well call it a night and changed into my pajamas, which consisted of a tank top and a pair of women's boxers. assuming that Nate's friends had gone home by now, I didn't bother to put on something more presentable as I left my room to grab a glass of water.

when I walked into the kitchen I was met with three pairs of eyes on me, with Nate being in the bathroom. "oh, you guys are still here" I uttered as I went to grab a glass. ''yep, seems like it" the one with longer hair spoke. my back was to them as I filled up the cup with water from the fridge. once finished I turned around to face the three boys. "look I'm sorry, I'm not trying to be rude, its just that Nate promised me he would take me to see that movie months ago. anyway I'm y/n." holding out my hand to them. The one with a nose ring takes it first "Nick" he shook my hand. "I'm Chris" the one with long hair spoke, dapping me up. "and you?" I turned to the last boy, realizing it's the one that I locked eyes with earlier. "Matt" he smiled slightly as he took my hand. my face flushed feeling the electricity buzzing through my fingertips.

"okay well nice to meet you guys, but I'm off to bed. tell Nate that I said he better take me to see that movie tomorrow, I don't care if he just watched it." "will do" Chris spoke, Matt and Nick nodded along. I headed back towards my room and closed the door, still thinking about the feeling of Matt's hand on mine. "well this is going to be a problem" I mumbled to myself before shutting off the light and snuggling under my covers.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

Nate had brought the triplets over again, many times over the next few years. each time my crush on Matt grew a little stronger. besides that I had actually gained a friendship with all of them.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

a/n: I'm probably going to move this story on pretty quickly I just wanted to get a little backstory out first.

let me know if there is anything I can do to write better, criticism is appreciated

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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qqtxt · 10 months

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[🌸] a star in my eyes w/ txt

✿ pairing: ot5 x reader / silly, cheesy 🌸🧀 / idol!txt / non.idol!you /minor cursing (none with ill-intention!) / mentions of extreme measures in a light-hearted manner... (don’t call me out on my coping mechanism) ✿ mini-fics with each member for the same situation / less than 500 words for each member / altogether, word count: 2,131 words ✿ regardless of how you feel (good or bad), you’ll always appear to be a star in their eyes (as cheesy as that sounds...) ✿ note: i’ve submitted my submissions for my master’s!!! so i’ll be more active now, hehe! ✨ [masterlist 🌸] / other members under the cut! / @kflixnet ⭐️

there are days where you take the toughest days god throws at you like a champ. an absolute champ. to the point where even the most difficult of obstacles or mishaps can’t bring you down... but... some days, the smallest of inconveniences makes you want to wallow in the pit of self-pity until the world swallows you as a whole. you’d gladly welcome the black hole to gulp you in and allow the teeth to sink into your heels to bring you to the unknown. that resembles itself in the form of you face-planting deep into the pillows, arms spread out wide and willing for the earth to open up and...

[🐰] soobin soobin tries not to laugh at the sight even though it’s endearing to the core. when he coos your name softly, you barely move, only groaning back a let me die... soobin makes himself known when the bed beside you dips down and you feel a hand rubbing your lower back in gentle pats. “augh, and let me suffer living alone? no chance. if i’m alive, you have to be alive,” he taunts, almost effectively granting the view of your side profile when you turn the cheek, blowing part of your hair away from your face to blow a raspberry at him. he snorts and reaches out with his other hand, brushing the hair back as he looks at you with the concern in his eyes that sparks through even if he’s trying not to show it.

“hit a wall?” he asks, calmly.

“metaphorically? yes. physically? i’m about to.”

the way he laughs could be viewed as cruel, but he just enjoys your humour that it makes you laugh in return even though you had absolutely nothing to laugh about in the first place.

“laughing at my misery? asshole.”

“i’m not laughing at you, i’m laughing with you.”

“...”

“...if i buy you ice cream, will that cleanse me of my sins?”

“...get me the double scoop with the waffle and you’re cleansed for the week.”

“deal. get over here,” he stands up and extends his hands out to you, wiggling his fingers (as if he has to entice you–he is). with a sigh, you roll over and soobin grabs ahold of your hands to tug you to your feet. you nearly bump into him but he catches you with ease, dimples appearing the wider he smiles at you and that alone melts you on sight. well, nothing like a sweet treat with a sweet treat couldn’t hurt.

[🦊] yeonjun yeonjun intended to be more... discrete with his approach but he finds that he can’t when he bellows your name as he steps through the door. when he sees that you remain unmoving, laying flat on the bed with your face-deep into the pillows, you hear him huffing as he storms over, door left ajar as the bed dips down as a signal he’s sitting right by your side. he taps your bum, his voice soon follows: “yah,” he whines, “not even going to turn to face me?”

“just let me be miserable alone,” you groan, voice muffled into the sheets. you hear him letting out a sigh before he starts to chuckle. with light ruffles you feel against you and the bed dipping even more, you now notice he’s squeezed his way through to lay down next to you. despite you buried face deep into the pillow and mattress, yeonjun’s arms are slyly making their way beneath your stomach so he can curl against you.

“i can’t even be miserable on my own?” you mumble, finally turning the cheek to see the way his eyes sparkle at you with a grin. he wordlessly shakes his head, fringe brushing over his eyebrows that accompanies the handsome, cheshire smile that lines his lips. the words already echo in your mind without him needing to say it: i’m gonna be here with you regardless.

knowing you can’t push him away, you let out a deep sigh before you turn your body to cuddle into him. might as well give in if you can’t get rid of it. your hands are pressed to his chest but you’re able to snuggle your face into his neck as he cocoons you in.

soon, he feels the way your breath evens out from deep breaths to shorter, calmer ones with your eyelids fluttering shut. he continues his ministrations of keeping an arm around your waist while the other reaches up to stroke your head, down to your arm and over and over again until he lulls himself to join you to sleep. (ah, a small nap to recharge couldn’t hurt.) ((yeonjun’s most certainly not complaining...))

[🐯] beomgyu beomgyu does what beomgyu does best and it’s–”if you’re gonna kill me, at least make it quick and painless!” your voice is muffled, but mostly because beomgyu’s laying on top of you has effectively rendered you breathless. nearly compressing your lungs until all air is pushed out completely. his hearty laugh is almost enough to make you die happily but it’s not with the way his weight is close to knocking you unconscious.

“augh, can’t have that,” he snickers, sliding to the side and effectively clinging onto you before you can start kicking at his direction. his arms manage to sneak around your body, pulling you flush to his chest as he positions his face as close to your as possible; merely inches apart when you turn your cheek to face him with a huff. “i can’t let you leave me all alone in this big, scary, crazy world.”

“funny how you just described yourself in three words,” you mutter under your breath, using a hand to messily reach out to punch his thigh. he feigns pain with a choked breath but quickly recovers with his gummy grin; eyes crinkling to a smile that somehow... eases whatever misery that’s making you... you know, miserable.

“what’s bothering my golden nugget today?” he asks, in a voice that somehow eases the nerves chewing you up. it makes you rest in his hold and scooting a bit closer to close your eyes, getting a bit of a breather before you respond with: “life... life’s bothering me. just don’t wanna do life right now.”

“then don’t do it,” he states simply. in the kind of voice that makes you curiously raise a brow at him. before you can even ask, he snuggles closer to you with a small grin, “just be you, here with me. we can do everything else except life.”

“you know that makes absolutely no sense, right?”

“yeah, but sometimes life doesn’t have to make sense.”

“...”

“...so, shall we go for boba? clear your mind a little? have a walk?”

when you don’t answer, eyes moving to stare at a spot at his shoulder then back to his eyes, it’s the way his eyes soften at the way you quietly submit. he leans forward with his lips brushing along your cheek for a quick kiss before he nudges you to–”c’mon, up up up! let’s go!” (on a day that got difficult to get through life, beomgyu made it so effortlessly to guide you along the waves, hand-in-hand–with the other holding onto yeonjun’s card)

[🐿] taehyun taehyun didn’t intend to laugh but he just couldn’t help himself when he pushes the bedroom door, seeing how you’ve successfully buried yourself in the fluff blanket, hair askew, arms lifelessly laying by your sides. you know you’re not alone when you feel the bed dipping down, along with an arm along your back. you turn the cheek towards the door, noticing its left slightly ajar but no one is there. it makes you frown and turn the other way, noticing a pair of eyes that’s awfully close to you with a pearly grin.

“what’re you doing?” you huff, noticing that he’s mimicking your position by face planting his face to the mattress but he has his face turned to face you directly. he shrugs and uses his eyes to point at you, “following you,”

“i don’t even know what i’m doing,” you mumble under your breath, eyes trailing down to the small space between your bodies, staring at the bedsheet. if you had been looking at taehyun, you’d notice the way his features soften as he shifts closer towards you with a small frown. but you weren’t. all you could do is feel his aura near you and it’s the way his calm nature soothes over your nerves like a welcoming blanket.

“you don’t have to know what you’re doing all the time,” his voice enters your ears, like a gentle reminder; a soft kiss to your eardrums. and an actual kiss you feel by the side of your head when you notice he’s crawled into your bubble of self-pity.

you sigh and lean into his embrace, feeling the way he moves his body to invite you in. it makes your heart swell, warming in his hold with how he turns you a little so you can slot your face in his neck. his arms come around you to cocoon you in, his chin tucked atop of your head to keep you close, just staying like that as he strokes the back of your head as you cuddle into him and part of his cheek leaning against you.

“what if i don’t figure out what i’m doing?” you mutter against his chest, arms giving him a small squeeze. he doesn’t need to look at you to know you’re feeling anxious. he continues his ministrations of distracting you (it was working at least) and plants another kiss to the side of your head before responding with: “then we can figure it out together.” (and though you know that it really means that taehyun would be by your side as you figure out what you wanted, knowing he would be by your side made things feel a bit lighter)

[🐧] kai kai thought it was funny, initially, anyways. with the way he can only see your back with the way you’ve plummeted yourself into the sheets makes him giggle as he pushes the door wider to step through but the lack of acknowledgement that he’s here with you, half-pokes at his mind if you’re still alive.

“earth to y/n, are you there?” he sits down on the bed by your side, with the little space that’s available due to your body being sprawled out like a starfish but kai always make do to be close to you.

“hey,” he huffs, using a hand to tap your bum, “are you ignoring me?”

“just–”your voice quips back with a sharp intake of air-”leave me alone to die,” you groan with your voice muffled by the pillow beneath you. if you had been looking at him, you would’ve seen how he begins to pout and actually considers if he should leave you alone to have some space. but when he plans to get up and exit the bedroom, he can’t physically do that so instead, he decides to...

at the sounds and shuffles around the bedroom, you can tell kai hasn’t left you to your demise. it makes you curious, so you at least turn the cheek on both sides to see how he’s not anywhere beside you. it takes all the strength in you to flip around and sit up, now noticing how dim the room has gotten, left with the gentle flickers of ember before the scent of sandalwood and mandarin sifts into the air. you’ve caught the culprit redhanded when you see he was setting up something to play on the laptop (presumably a comfort re-run show you both enjoy) and you notice the packet of snack by the lit candle.

“oh,” he chuckles awkwardly, “i was gonna pull you out of the blackhole when i was done setting things up–”

“kai,”

“–and–hm?” he stops his tracks, train of thought halting with the tilt of his head when you call his name to cut him off. kai visibly stiffens but everything melts away when you stretch your arms out with your legs folded on the bed, a wordless cry of hold me.

he ditches everything he was intending to do and comes right to you. he may or may not have tackled you down onto the bed to hug you properly with a couple of oofs! and sorry! here and there interlacing with each other but... it was perfect. kai watches as your eyes flutter shut, curling into him, breath fanning his neck with your arms meekly around his waist. it was cheesy, but thank goodness no one can hear his thoughts when he’d rather be watching this than the show he had intended to play for the both of you.

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alwaysonthemend · 3 months

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Author’s Note: Happy Valentine’s Day! Here’s a little Josh fic for you all. Just as an aside, this fic follows the reader after she’s just gotten out of a past relationship that ended badly. I used gender neutral pronouns and words for her ex and Josh is also written as being queer in this fic. I wanted to make this as inclusive an experience as possible for my readers so that is why I chose to use gender neutral language for her ex-partner. And obviously, Josh has never given us a specific label for himself and so I didn’t want to assume anything about him by doing so myself but I do write that he’s had past relationships with both men and women – but I am in no way claiming to know his dating life or how he identifies. I hope you all enjoy and happy Valentine’s Day to each of you <3

Warnings: Smut (p in v sex, unprotected sex), oral (f. receiving), fingering, pleasuredom!Josh, discussions of infidelity (past relationship - not between reader and Josh), slight panic attack (nothing major), feelings of body insecurity, parties, drinking. 18 Only. Minors DNI

Word Count: 5k

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Fuck them was all you really had left to say. In all honesty… there wasn’t much to say at this point. You’d given them 3 years of your life – 3 years spent crafting a future around a person who, in the end, hadn’t cared enough to do the same for you. You’d been with them for 3 whole years, had spent hours and hours of time with them, loved them at their best and their worst, comforted them when they needed it, been their shoulder to cry on, celebrated their achievements, and loved them with your whole heart for those entire 3 years. And how had they repaid you in the end? By climbing into bed with someone else. A quick fuck with a stranger that they met at a bar was apparently worth more than the 3 years that you had spent loving them the way that you had. It’s crazy how even after all that time you can still find out that you hardly even knew a person at all.

And now here you are the day before Valentine's Day eating ice cream and watching The Office reruns on your couch to try and keep from actually thinking about the hurt you have in your heart. You’ve cried all the tears you have and now you’re just left with a hollowness that you can’t seem to shake. There’s a hole in your heart where all that love for them used to be and now you’re stuck in this weird limbo between heartbroken and downright furious.

Ping!You glance down to where your phone screen has lit up with a text message. You pick it up and immediately sigh at the message that waits for you.

Danny 9:08 PM

Please tell me you’re still going to come to the party tomorrow night

You hadn’t been planning on it. You’d thought since the very moment that Josh had brought up the idea of a Valentine’s Day party that it was borderline ridiculous. But you had agreed to go simply because your partn- your ex had said that they wanted to go. But now that they weren’t in the picture anymore… the thought of going to a party where everyone is going to be hanging off the arms of their partners and, as Josh had put it, love is gonna be in the air! makes you want to scream. Hell no. Fuck no, even.

You 9:09 PM

Don’t think so. Not really in the Valentine’s Day mood to be honest.

It takes hardly even a minute before Danny answers you back.

Danny 9:10 PM

Totally fair

Danny 9:12 PM

There’s gonna be free booze tho… And you’ve gotta stop rotting away on your couch eventually

You pause for a moment before answering. He’s right to be completely honest. You’ve spent two weeks holed up in your apartment and wallowing in self-pity after your breakup. And honestly it’s starting to get a little old. But a Valentine’s Day party? You’re not sure that that is going to be the best break from your self-imposed lock down. But on the other hand… free booze does make the whole idea just a little bit more appealing. Plus, it’d be a great excuse to get dressed up and feel sexy for a night and have it be just for you and not for anyone else. And you haven’t actually gotten to see Danny and the rest of the guys a whole lot recently thanks to their busy schedules.

You sigh once again before texting Danny back in defeat.

You 9:15 PM

Fine

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Any and all excitement that you had the night before is entirely gone by the time you step through the doorway of Josh’s incredibly color-coordinated home. You’d felt sexy in your outfit as you’d stepped out of your apartment but the loud music and even louder people make you want to turn heel and run in the opposite direction. But you’re here now so you figure you might as well enjoy the free booze. You’d taken an Uber tonight solely so that you can get as drunk as you want without having to worry about driving back to your apartment.

“Y/n!”

Danny comes bounding over to you, crushing you in a hug that steals your breath away. You squeeze him back and giggle softly.

“You smell like beer.” You scold him, wrinkling your nose in mock disgust.

Danny smiles and nudges your shoulder with his.

“And you don’t and that’s just not acceptable.”

With a comforting hand placed on your upper back, Danny leads you through the crowd of people into Josh’s kitchen where an array of bottles and stacks of red solo cups await you on the counter. And amidst it all, pouring himself another drink, is the host of this over-the-top Valentine’s Day party. He grins at you as you and Danny enter and you can’t help but to smile back.

“I didn’t think you were gonna make it out tonight!” Josh starts, throwing back a shot before turning his body to face the two of you fully.

You shrug and jab your thumb towards Danny who laughs lightly.

“I’m persuasive.” Is the only bit of explanation he gives.

“And annoying.” You mutter playfully as you walk over to the counter to survey the various choices in alcohol that lay before you. “Watcha makin?”

Josh’s attention drops back down to the drink that he’d been in the middle of pouring when you’d walked in.

“Tequila Sunrise.” He holds up the glass for you to see and you’re impressed with how nice the drink looks. “I’m no bartender but…”

You shake your head, eyeing the beautifully balanced red and orange colors in the glass.

“Nonsense. You know you’re good at mixing drinks. That looks great.”

A pink blush dusts the apples of his cheeks (the color of them making the white dots of his makeup stand out even more) and even the tips of his ears turn a shade darker at your compliment.

“I think you should try a sip before you praise me too much.” He extends his hand and holds the glass out to you. “For you. And if it sucks… Jake is the one who told me how to make it so blame him.”

You take the glass and sip the drink, closing your eyes and humming at the taste. Josh is watching you intently and you wonder briefly if he’s always been so damn attractive.

“And if it’s really good?” You question, taking another sip.

He puffs out his chest and grins.

“Why then it’s all me, of course.”

You can only shake your head at him but a smile spreads across your lips despite yourself.

“It’s really good, Josh. You have my stamp of approval.”

Your eyes meet Josh’s and those brown eyes of his glint with something that you can’t quite name before it’s gone in a flash. You drop your gaze to the drink in your hand and Josh looks towards Danny.

“Daniel, care for a drink?”

–

You’d spent the last hour or two milling about throughout the house, saying hi to friends and occasionally bumping into Josh who always smiles warmly at you in passing as he busies himself with being a cordial host.

And you’d had perhaps one too many drinks and the room is starting to spin by the time you collapse onto a sofa to take a breather. Danny had stuck by your side for a while before his date had arrived, at which point you’d latched yourself onto Sam until he decided to leave early with a girl he met. You’d gone searching for Jake but he’d been nowhere to be found. Likely, he’s already gone home. He’s never one to stick around at social gatherings this big for too long.

You try not to but your heart aches slightly that you’d been abandoned by Sam and Danny. You know that ‘abandoned’ is a strong word but… they knew you were freshly single and hurting. You had hoped that they would have been more willing to spend just a little extra time with you tonight. In fact, the longer you think about it, the more your hurt feelings begin to grow. You’re not angry with them. Not all. If you’re being honest with yourself, you envy them. They both had someone to spend the night with tonight. Jake, too.

You glance around and suddenly all you can see is other people with their partners. Holding hands, laughing, touching, kissing. Your breathing picks up. Does everyone here but you have someone? It sure freaking feels like it. Maybe it’s the alcohol making you have such a strong reaction but you’re suddenly desperate to get out of here. You need to get out of this place. You stand, the abrupt movement causing your head to spin a bit but you ignore it in favor of trying to find an escape. As you make your way through the throng of people it’s like navigating through a sea made of nothing but smiles and kisses that aren’t for you. Your eyes scan frantically until at last… there! The door to the back porch.

You push your way to it and open the door quickly and slam it shut behind you as you escape out onto Josh’s back porch. You pause there, bowing your head and taking a moment to try and steady your breathing. Your throat burns with unshed tears but you swallow them down – you refuse to shed any more tears over the person who treated you so horribly. You refuse to give them the satisfaction.

“Y/n?”

The sound of your name makes you jump and your eyes snap open to find Josh leaning against the bannister, his head turned back to look at you.

“Hi.” You answer him, willing your voice to sound more composed than you feel. “I didn’t see you out here.”

He smiles and beckons you over to him with a lazy wave.

“Just taking a break for a moment.” His voice carries a warmth that you hadn’t realized you needed as you come to lean on the bannister beside him. “You okay?” He keeps his face purposefully neutral but you can see the concern swirling in his eyes.

“Yeah. Just got a little overwhelming in there.”

He nods, the motion making an errant curl settle onto his forehead. Your hand itches to reach up and swipe it back into place.

“No Alex tonight?”

It’s an innocent question but your ex’s name sends your heart breaking all over again. You’re not even sure why you’re still so upset. Clearly they didn’t love you the way you had loved them and you want to say that you’ve moved on but…

“No. We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh.” Josh breathes out, his features melting into a look of pure sympathy. It makes you want to cry even more. “I’m sorry.”

You shrug.

“It’s okay, really. They fucked a stranger in our own bed so… I’d say it’s a good thing that we broke things off.”

Josh winces at the bitterness in your tone and looks like he wants to say something but doesn’t know what.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I’m still so upset. It’s not like I love them anymore. Not really.” The alcohol in your systems seems to have loosened your tongue as you begin speaking again despite having no intentions of wanting to talk about them at all tonight.

“Anyone would be upset, Y/n. Alex betrayed your trust. Regardless of how you feel about them now… it’s still painful. That’s normal.”

You huff.

“It’s stupid. Stupid and tiring and-” You stop yourself and swallow thickly. “Sorry.”

Josh smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes all the way but it’s genuine.

“Don’t be. Trust me, I know how you feel. Once that trust is broken… it’s like you’re afraid you’ll never get it back again. With anyone.”

You turn to look at him but his face is pointed back out to the yard. As willing as Josh is to discuss matters like this with others, his own relationships he’s always been private about. He’s had a few relationships that you know of in the years that you’ve known him – some men, some women. You’d met only a handful of them in person but he’d never seemed to allow anyone in your little circle to actually get to know them other than Jake. You had no idea that maybe he’s gone through something similar.

“Sometimes I just… It feels like I’m never going to find my person. And all this-” You gesture towards the door and the Valentine’s Day festivities that lay beyond it, “just didn’t really help at all. It feels like everyone has someone but me.”

A warm, steadying hand lands on your shoulder and you swear that a tingle runs up the length of your spine at the touch. Josh’s eyes glitter in the light of the night sky and the porch light casts shadows across his sharp jawline. And as you look at him, it feels like you’re seeing him, really seeing him for the first time. And he’s beautiful.

“You’ll find your person, Y/n. I know you will. You’re too nice of a person to not.”

You can feel your cheeks grow hot.

“Thank you, Josh. That means a lot.”

“Of course.” He grins, dropping his hand from your shoulder at last. “That’s what friends are for, right? Helping each other out when we’re down?”

For some reason, his words make you pause. You and Josh have been friends for so long and you’d only ever seen him as a friend. But now, standing next to him and thinking back to all the years of kindness and laughter that he’s given you… you’re struck suddenly with the thought that maybe you don’t just want to be friends with him. You’ve always been able to acknowledge that he’s attractive. And he makes you laugh like no one else can. Always there for you when you need a shoulder to cry on. Hell, he’s been one of the only constants in your ever-changing life. And he’s-

You shake your head at yourself. He’s just a friend. He’d just said so himself.

“I wish more people were like you, Josh.” You find yourself saying softly. “You’re one of the good ones.”

He blushes – the apples of his cheeks flushing a dark red that reaches all the way down his neck too. Has he always blushed this much around you? First earlier when you’d complimented his drink making and now… Surely not. Right?

“You just have to be patient.” He tilts his head and grins, nudging your shoulder playfully with his. “And hey, if you can’t find someone else you can always give dating me a try.”

You don’t mean to but you laugh, perhaps a little harder than you should have. The idea has your heart pounding in your chest and you desperately don’t want him to see how much the joke affected you. A desperate wish that bleeds into regret as you watch the light in his eyes dim ever so slightly as you laugh.

You want to take it back. You want to tell him that maybe you’ve been blind this whole time and not seen what was right in front of you. But he only smiles tightly and straightens himself, popping his back and rolling his neck before beginning to turn away.

“I suppose I should get back inside. I’m being a terrible host by hiding out here.”

With that, he turns on his heel to begin walking back inside but his name explodes past your lips before you can stop it.

“Yeah?”

The hope in his voice makes your stomach drop.

“I-” You don’t know. You don’t know what to say. You don’t even know if these feelings are real. Have they been here this whole time, hiding under the surface? Or did it take you getting heartbroken by someone else to see the kindness that he’s been offering for years? There’s so many questions swirling through your head and you can’t seem to even form a full thought. Defeatedly, you shake your head. “Never mind. I’ll see you later.”

Josh stares at you for a long, tense moment before nodding his head.

“I’ll see you later, Y/n.”

You turn away before you see him leave but the sound of the back door shutting makes you wince. Should you have told him how you feel? Hell, you don’t understand how you’re feeling so you don’t even know what you would have told him anyway.

Regardless, you can’t shake the feeling that you’ve just made a mistake. You’ve spent years desperately wishing for true love. Dates with people had come and gone and Alex had just been the first person who seemed to want the same from a relationship as you. No one had expected you to date them. No one had expected the two of you to last as long as you did. And honestly? You hadn’t expected it either. Alex was… comfortable. Safe.

You’d been so caught up, so desperate to find love… and maybe it’s been right in front of you all along. He has been right in front of you. And you just let him walk away.

Frantically, you whirl around to go and find him but stop short at the sight of Josh shoving the door open and coming back outside. He looks frenzied but determined as he strides over to you. You’re frozen in place, but with each step that he takes you grow more and more certain about the warmth spreading through your chest. Yes, he really had been right here all along.

Josh stops. He’s so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath.

“Y/n.” His voice is soft – quiet but just as determined as his steps had been. “I couldn’t- I had to come back. I couldn’t not tell you.” He rambles, his dark eyes pinning you in place before him. “I know we’re just friends and- and I know that you don’t-”

“Josh,” you interrupt, “I love you too.”

“What?”

He’s utterly still, jaw dropped open and eyes gaping at you. If your heart wasn’t pounding so hard you think you might laugh at the sight of Josh Kiszka rendered speechless.

“I said I love you too. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it before… but I do, Josh.”

His mouth remains open for a long moment and you think for one brief, horrible second that you’ve made a mistake and he doesn’t feel the same. But then his lips spread into a wide smile that makes your heart melt.

“You- you love me?”

You nod.

“And I’m sorry that I didn’t realize it sooner.”

He huffs, the noise a mix between a sigh and a laugh before he takes a step even closer, his lips hovering just above yours. He pauses there, waiting. You give him a slight nod and then his lips are on yours – soft and pillowy and oh so warm against your own. With a soft whine, your hands find perchance on his shoulders while his palms settle on your cheeks, thumbs caressing your cheek bones. The heat of him is delicious and you use your grip on his shoulders to pull him in closer to you. He answers with a breathy moan into your mouth that sends liquid fire pooling between your legs.

“Y/n.” Your name escapes him with a sigh, his lips parting from yours for a moment to breathe. “I’ve dreamed of this.”

“Yeah?” You whisper, lips ghosting over his once again, just barely touching. “Just of kissing me?”

He catches his bottom lip between his teeth and shakes his head, curls bouncing.

“Much more than that.”

“Show me?”

Josh answers you with a Cheshire grin and turns his head to look over his shoulder at the party still going on inside.

“Think they’ll notice that I’m gone?”

“We can be quick.”

He shakes his head and grins but laces his fingers with yours and begins to tug you towards the door.

“No. We won’t.”

“You can’t just leave.” You start to protest but Josh silences you with a grin.

“They’ll take the hint and leave eventually. We’ll worry about cleaning up tomorrow.”

–

You barely notice the people as Josh leads you through them and none of them seem to notice the two of you as you both slip up the stairs. It feels like a dream as he tugs you through the threshold of his bedroom, shutting the door behind you with a soft ‘click.’

“So many dreams and so little time.” He murmurs, hands finding your hips and guiding you backwards until the backs of your thighs hit the bed.

Josh kisses you again before pulling back and letting the moment hold for a moment. You take in your surroundings. The soft, white bed sheets. The warm glow of the lamp in the corner and the smell of incense. The room screams Josh – cluttered but organized, comfy.

“But enough time,” Josh continues, palms sweeping down your sides, “that we can do as much or as little as you want tonight.”

Josh is selfless in everything else that he does and you can’t help but smile knowing that he's selfless in here too.

“I want you.” Is all your brain can manage to come up with.

But it does the trick given the way Josh’s eyes glitter with mischief as his fingers dance across your shoulders and hook underneath the straps of your dress.

“Can I take this off?”

You nod and he slides the fabric down, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving your bra and panties on display for him. You’d gone with black lace and based on the groan that rumbles in his chest, it was the right choice. Before undressing you further, Josh tugs his own shirt up and over his head and tosses it haphazardly to the floor. His khakis are next and you exhale shakily as you take in his smooth, creamy skin. His body is lithe and toned, muscles defined but still slim. There’s something effortlessly graceful about his body and you reach out a hand to feel him, a palm settling on his pec and the other hand grabbing his waist and squeezing.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” His words come out husky and a little gruff and your core pulses. “Bra off then on the bed.”

You comply, unhooking your bra and letting it fall to the floor before jumping up and scrambling backwards until your back hits the wall of plush pillows guarding the head board. He follows you, climbing onto the bed and settling onto his knees between your thighs. Chocolate eyes sweep up to yours, somehow filled with an almost innocence despite what the two of you are about to do.

“Can I taste you, Y/n?” He pleas– and it is a plea.

You want to nod. To let him use that pretty mouth on you for as long as he pleases. But years of insecurity – insecurity that’s only been made worse after recent events, bubbles to the surface.

“I- I didn’t shave. You don’t have to.” You hate how weak your voice sounds. You hate that you feel like this. You hate how every single cell in your body wants to close your thighs and hide from him despite the love that you see swirling through his eyes.

“I want to.” Josh answers, warm hands finding purchase on your thighs. “And I don’t care about whether or not you shaved, Y/n. It’s your body that you’re choosing to share with me.” His thumbs trace small, soothing circles into your skin. “But if you don’t feel comfortable that’s okay too.”

You take a deep breath. You let all those insecurities that have welled up recently come to the forefront of your mind. You let yourself feel each one. And then you let them go.

“Y-you can. You can taste me.”

Josh smiles softly, the weight of your trust not lost on him as he leans down and slides your panties down your legs. Already soaked, Josh hums at the sight.

“Stunning.” He says, swiping a finger through your folds and earning a cry from between your lips.

Hooking his arms beneath your thighs and dropping his body to lay against the mattress, Josh pulls your glistening center flush against him and sucks your clit into his mouth. He rolls his tongue around the swollen bud and your hips buck up to meet the feeling.

“Oh fuck.” You whine, eyes shut tightly against the onslaught of pleasure.

His tongue works over you effortlessly, switching between circling around your clit and slipping into your entrance. The sound is obscene. Your wetness coupled with the way Josh moans into your heat has the band of pleasure in your lower belly beginning to tighten already. It’s like he somehow knows exactly what you like the most – effortlessly coaxing you to the edge. He’s groaning into you, head thrashing from side to side and his own hips pushing down into the bed.

“Josh.” You warn, your body beginning to tense as the white hot pleasure keeps building.

“Cum in my mouth, mama. I need it.”

With one last lick of his tongue against you the wave breaks. With a loud cry, you let the pleasure overtake you and Josh keeps working you through it, making sure to give you the most pleasure he can as your orgasm works its way through you.

Finally, he sits up and wipes his mouth against the back of his hand.

“How was that?”

It’s an innocent question but the cocky grin he’s sporting lets you know that he knows exactly how good it was.

“Fuck.” Is all you manage to say and Josh giggles.

“Eloquent.”

Josh sits up and you can see his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers, his flushed tip trapped underneath the waistband. Even covered you can see that he’s big. You’d always known that he was – his jumpsuits leave little to the imagination. But seeing it like this, hard and leaking for you, makes your breath stutter in your chest. You reach out to feel him but he stops you, shaking his head and grinning.

“Not done yet.” Is all he says before his fingers find your wet folds again.

Slowly, he presses a finger in and you whine, legs falling apart wider as he curls the digit. He’s watching you intently, noting every shift of your hips and every change in expression as he explores your body, finding what makes you tick. His finger brushes against your sweet spot and you cry out his name.

“Oh fuck, Josh. Right there.”

He grins.

“There it is.”

He adds another finger, scissoring them to stretch you but making sure to brush that spot over and over again as he does so. You’re a whining mess beneath him, embarrassingly close to cumming again already. No one has ever paid attention like this – actually taking the time to learn your body and its responses in order to maximize your pleasure. Maybe it's that thought that has you about to reach climax again.

“You gonna cum on my fingers, Y/n?”

You nod your head, unable to form words as he pumps his fingers in and out of you.

“Yeah? I can feel you squeezing them, baby. You can cum, angel. Just let it go.”

Your body trembles and shakes all over as you cum and Josh moans in delight at the sight of you surrendering to pleasure, at the sight of the pleasure that he is giving you. This one lasts longer than the last and Josh works you through every second of it until you're panting and shying away from the touch as the oversensitivity hits you.

“Good?” He murmurs, eyes practically black as they stare at you.

“Very, very good.” You answer with a lazy, satiated smile. “Are you going to fuck me now?”

Josh’s tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip and your eyes track the movement. You want him. You want him so bad it aches.

“Only if you want me to. We don’t have to do anything else tonight.”

Of course he didn’t expect more from you. And you’re 100% certain that if you asked him to, he’d lay down and go to bed with you right now despite how hard his aching member must be. But you don’t want that. You want him. All of him.

“I want you to, Josh. I need you to fuck me.”

A soft, delicate little whine escapes him.

“Okay.”

Wordlessly, he reaches over to his night stand and opens a drawer. His hand disappears inside it before reappearing with a condom in hand. He palms himself once with his right hand through his boxers before hooking his fingers in the waistband and tugging them down.

You never knew that a cock could be so fucking pretty.

He rips the foil with his teeth and rolls the latex over his length, hissing as he does so.

You let your legs fall apart and beckon him to you. With dark eyes, Josh pumps his length in his hand once, twice, before he guides himself into your soaked entrance. He’s big, the stretch causing a delicious mix of pleasure bordering on pain. He moans as he bottoms out and your hands latch onto his shoulders and your fingertips dig into the muscle.

“Fuck, you feel good.” You moan, already aching for him to move.

“And you feel like satin, angel. So fuckin’ tight.”

Slowly, Josh pulls almost all the way out of you before sliding back in again. His arms come to rest on either side of your head, his weight resting on his forearms. With each snap of his hips you can’t help but moan. Every movement, every inch of him, sends sparks of pleasure through your entire body. Sex with Alex had been rough – frenzied and almost mindless. But this? This is worship.

“Don’t stop.” You beg, heels digging into his hips to keep him close.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His voice sounds wrecked – cracked and broken with his own pleasure.

“You’re so good.” You find yourself mumbling, eyes squeezing shut. “So fucking good, Josh.”

You can feel his length twitch and pulse inside of you as soon as the words leave your mouth. He likes knowing that he’s making you feel good.

“Wanna make you cum, mama. Wanna make you feel good.” He whines, jaw dropping open and face contorting in pleasured agony.

You nod your head frantically, tits bouncing as he picks up his pace.

“Feels so good. Oh fuck!” Your own voice sounds foreign to you – high pitched and almost squeaky. You’re losing yourself in the pleasure, his cock hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

“Please cum, baby. Cum on my cock. I need to feel it.”

His right hand slips into the heated space between your bodies and his finger finds your clit, ruthlessly swirling the pad of his finger in time with his thrusts.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum, Josh. Please, please, please.”

“You don’t have to beg, baby.” He grits out, his pace beginning to falter as your walls clench mercilessly around him. “Gonna take care of you. Gonna get you there.”

It hardly takes a minute more before the band snaps. With a harsh scream, your orgasm rips through you. Stars explode behind your eyes and any thoughts that you had have been ripped from you. All you can focus on is the pleasure as Josh keeps fucking you through your high. The only words you can think of fall from your lips in a breathy whine.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

Josh cries out harshly, his own body tensing as he finally lets himself reach his own climax.

“Oh fuck, I’m cumming. Y/n.” His words are almost a growl, rumbling from deep within his chest as his orgasm hits him fully. “I love you too. Fuck, I love you so much.”

With one last thrust of his hips the two of you finally settle, Josh’s weight coming down to pin you to the mattress as you both come back to yourselves. He doesn’t pull out, allowing the intimacy of the moment to stretch on.

“My God.” You mumble, your throat feeling raw from screaming.

Josh leans down to capture your lips with his, his tongue exploring your mouth lazily for a moment before he draws back.

“I love you, Y/n.”

“I love you too. I’m sorry I took so long.”

“I would have waited even longer so long as I got to have you in the end.”

You pull him down to kiss him again.

“You have me.”

♡︵‿♡︵‿♡‿︵♡‿︵♡

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#dee's writing #josh kiskza x reader #josh kiszka smut #josh kiszka fanfiction #josh kiszka

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odocoiileus · 3 months

Note

Hi! Could I get some Eddie x Reader angst? Preferably afab/female reader. The angst is up to you!

pairings: eddie munson x afab! reader

warnings: angst to eventual comfort, brief heartbreak and jealousy, usage of curse words, usage of feminine pet names (princess), mentions of dealing, reader has a fear of being abandoned and is an asshole, eddie's also an asshole kind of (less than the reader). reader has symptoms of a personality disorder if you squint.

a/n: sure thing, anon! enjoy this angst. reader is of age.

you were never the most emotionally stable. you had emotions that were more intense than most. anger felt like fire, sadness felt like you were dying, being normal felt like numbness. most of all, you had a horrible, debilitating fear of abandonment. you weren't sure where this stemmed from — your parents were present in your life. nobody major in your life had ever left you.

despite this lack of reason for such a fear, you find yourself practically shaking in eddie's trailer. your hands tremble, your heart beating against your chest painfully. he's talking about one of his customers again, who he seems to talk about all the time. your brows knit together, a whirlwind of emotions taking place inside you. most notably, anger. and right now? you felt like you were being burned alive.

"yeah, I mean, she's awesome! probably one of my favorite customers. always pays more than what I ask, kinda like a tip. great, right, babe?" eddie rambles, taking a moment to look at you sitting on his couch. he notices the disturbed expression on your face and his smug grin drops, hurrying over to sit beside you. "hey..uh, what's up, princess?" he asks, voice as smooth as butter, soft as cotton. he places a warm hand on your shoulder. and normally, you would want to lean into his touch, wouldn't be able to stop yourself from swooning over him. but right now, you can't help but feel your anger build up more, consuming you like a horrible monster.

"her! and you!" you spit out, scowling at him as your anger finally spills out. "all you do is talk about her, eds! I mean, we can't even have a normal fucking conversation without you bringing up how great she is..all she does is smoke!" you didn't know what his obsession with her was about, but there was only one thought in your mind. only one reason. he must like her, he must have a crush on her, he must love her. it's irrational, but right now it makes sense. you feel like clawing your skin off. you're oblivious to the shock and hurt on eddie's face. "you like her, don't you? like, like like her." you accuse, gritting your teeth as tears swell in your eyes.

eddie's puppy dog eyes narrow just slightly, his brows furrowing. his mouth, once agape, is now in a deep frown. "no! I don't like her like that..you know that, you're just being dramatic. stop being so insecure." he scoffs, taking his hand off your shoulder to cross his arms over his chest. you feel as though you've been shot at the 'dramatic' comment. a lump forms in your throat, you suddenly stand up with a bark of sarcastic laughter. "I'm dramatic? fine! since I'm so dramatic, I'm going back to my house! call me when you get over the obsession you have with your customer!" before eddie can say anything else, you're already out of the trailer, slamming the door behind you.

· · · · · · · · · · · · · · ·

hours had passed since the argument – the sun had set, the night sky illuminated by the moon. you were curled up in your bed, buried under copious amounts of blankets, wallowing in your pity. you felt horrible, guilty, mostly you felt like an asshole. you were an asshole. it was always like this - after your outbursts, you always felt guilty, but in the moments they happened..you felt like you couldn't control it.

with a heavy sigh, you drag your hands down your face. "great going.." you grumble to yourself. a sudden clonk catches your attention, eyes darting over to your window. there's a second clonk, before you realize that it's a rock hitting your window. oh, god. that could only mean one thing. eddie.

scrambling out of your bed, you open your window and look outside, spotting the brunette. "eddie.." you mumble. the metalhead looks just as sullen as you do, if not worse, as he maneuvers his way onto your roof and to your window. subsequently, you move out of the way so he can crawl into your bedroom. the second he's standing firmly, he wraps his arms around you in a tight hug.

finally, you break the silence. "I..I'm sorry, eds. I shouldn't have acted that way..I..just," you start, voice wavering. your hands find themselves on his chest. "..felt like you like her way more than me or somethin', stupid I know..I'm sorry." you say, feeling the lump form in your throat again. you will yourself not to cry. it proves to be unbelievably difficult once eddie speaks up.

"I'm sorry, princess. I promise you, I don't like her like that..I never would, I got you and you're..totally metal, 'kay? I just got excited since I've never had someone repeatedly come back to buy stuff." eddie speaks, and you're able to pinpoint a small crack in his voice, the way he squeezes you just a bit tighter. "i'd never replace you, never..just..just believe me, okay? I love you. I shouldn't 've called you dramatic." he whispers and you swear his voice shakes like he might also cry. you nod, blinking away tears. "I love you too, eds."

you pull away from the hug to look up at him, heart shattering at the sight of his brown hues glistening with tears. "I'm a total asshole." you huff, forcing out a giggle in hopes it'll lift the mood. you see eddie perk up just a little bit. "..come lay down with me?" you ask hesitantly, a smile appearing on your face when you see eddie's own as he nods.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson #angst with a happy ending #comfort #odofics #odocoiileus #stranger things fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fics

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witch-and-her-witcher · 3 months

Text

Reprieve

xaden/violet | E | porn with feelings, angst, hurt/comfort, light bondage, knifeplay | 6k

ao3

“I just thought you might like to explore an aspect of Tyrrish culture. I can tie every knot in that book.” He flashes a smile. “It’ll be fun to see if you can keep up with me.” - Xaden, Iron Flame (spoilers)

Violet and Xaden get a weekend’s reprieve from it all. Or, the bondage scene I thought we were getting with the books on knots.

(Thank you kindly to @belabellissima and @climbthemountain2020 for beta reading this for me!!)

~*~

"I feel heavy,” she’d said.

The weight on those thin, deceptively strong shoulders. The weight on her lion’s heart. The weight in those beautiful, round eyes that hold depths of kindness most people won’t even come in contact within a lifetime.

There was a time Xaden would have told himself it was good for Violet, to feel that burden of loss. What exactly was at stake here.

But he’d been naive then.

Naive to the extent of his own capacity to care. And he’d had plenty of exposure to carrying the weight of death, of war, of the lives of one hundred and seven others in enemy territory who relied on him, on a whole country —

Fuck, if heavy isn’t exactly what it all feels like.

And it isn’t getting any lighter.

“Self-pity doesn’t suit you,” Sgaeyl warns.

“I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”

“I didn’t ask,” she responds, voice huskier than normal. “But since you deem fit to push your thoughts so loudly and interrupt —”

“— don’t finish that. Understood.”

Xaden mortars and bricks the bond between himself and his dragon. Gods, he should have known the mates wouldn’t bother keeping their claws to themselves until nightfall.

“Perhaps if you didn’t inflict your own discomfort with idealistic notions,” slips through before Xaden can finish blocking out Sgaeyl.

“Then who would I be?”

Sgaeyl chuffs with the relaxed good humor that only comes with proximity to Tairn.

At least they’re enjoying each other’s company.

The line to Sgaeyl and the dimmer tether to Tairn fall quiet as he finishes blocking them out.

Violet’s shoulders droop in her chair, her normally rigid posture given way to the exhaustion of nightmare-riddled sleep. The stress of studies when her mind refused to cooperate, refused to put all of the shitty experiences from the past year in a neat little box to ignore like she preferred to do with everything uncomfortable, unfavorable.

Just like she’d done with Liam’s letters. Putting them in a box for her to kick under the bed until she was ready to … What? She’d yet to … well, to do anything with. Giving them to Sloane right away felt too risky, first years weren’t allowed mail and if the letters were found in her possession they could be confiscated, or worse yet — burned.

So under her bed, safe behind the wards Xaden had put around her room, they sat. Collecting dust.

Yeah, that’s probably what she’d do with all of the shit they’d gone through too if she had it her way. Violet liked to just move on and not wallow.

Xaden appreciates that about her.

But it doesn’t do much in the way of preparing oneself for the gaping hole in their lives that can’t just be tossed away. Forgotten in a neat box. Left to collect dust.

Xaden’s chest clenches like the weight of his missing brother is pressing directly on his sternum.

Pressing, pressing, pressing.

Maybe it’ll just crack.

Violet’s enchanted quill clatters to the desk and she drops her face into her hands, deflating with an exasperated sigh. She presses the heels of her palms into her eyes.

The air whooshes back into Xaden’s lungs. He remembers how to breathe through the sorrow again.

For her. He has to be strong, he has to be whole, for her.

With the bond between his dragon quiet, with the halls of the second year wing quiet as students have either turned in early to recover from the week — or, more than likely, headed out to Chantara to blow off steam — and with his powers reigned in tight so he doesn’t unintentionally latch onto Violet and read her, all Xaden can hear is the memory of her words on loop in his mind.

“I feel heavy.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

Violet’s spine curves, curling in on herself further. Milky white flesh stretches taut above the collar of her training blouse, unbuttoned several down but not removed.

“I don’t think our dragons are interested in flying right now.”

“Should we let them have all the fun?” Xaden tries to push levity into his tone. “I didn’t mean flying. Let’s go into town.”

Violet scrubs a hand along her scalp, carelessly tugging hair from her braid. After a moment’s consideration, she leans back to study him sideways where Xaden has gotten to his feet. It’s tempting, oh so tempting, to reach out with his powers and snag what lies beneath that assessing gaze —

Shadows convulse and writhe in the corners of the room as he clenches his fist against the urge.

He’s considered himself a patient man until now. A controlled man even.

Until Violet.

“What do you want to do in town?”

“Have a few drinks, dance, play cards?”

“Pass.”

Xaden’s gaze darkens as he lowers his voice and says, “Rent a room, pretend we’re a nobody couple getting away for a night of fucking and maybe even some cuddling if you’re not too much of a brat?”

Violet’s eyes alight at that. “Doesn’t that break your rule? I’m not going to say —”

“Fuck the rule.” Xaden surges forward, spinning her chair around so they’re nose to nose. His arms bracket her body. He towers over Violet, but there’s nothing small about the heat or intensity that flushes her neck, parts her lips just so, sets her brow with heady interest while she doesn’t so much as flinch beneath him. “For the next twenty-four hours. Fuck. The. Rule.”

It’s a concession neither of them is used to making.

But they’ll crack if they don’t release some of this pressure.

He knows it.

She knows it.

And because she’s the smartest person he’s ever come across, if not the most difficult, the corner of Violet’s mouth ticks up into a smirk in answer.

It’s easier than they expect to blend into the throng of upperclassmen from all sectors of Basgiath as well as active-duty riders, soldiers and healers alike mixing in the streets and taverns of the mage light illuminated Chantara.

With cloaks drawn to cover her telling silver-tipped hair, his distinct relic tattoo, they’re just another couple getting a room for a night of drinking and fucking and forgetting about the unforgiving life they lead in the name of a united Navarre.

But before they can slip away to the room Xaden pays for with his measly first year active rider’s wages — although more than what Violet has despite her last name— a musician pulls up his stool and begins playing. The melancholy, soulful cords of his voice and instrument are their own gravitational pull.

It’s not the party scene of Chantara either of them had anticipated.

But Violet and Xaden are far from the only people who have experienced trauma and it makes sense this would be an appealing performer. The man’s crooning is powerful, moving in its mournful undulations.

Violet’s pale blue gaze can’t be torn from the stage. He wants to drink in the sight of her, transfixed on the make-shift stage and emotions dancing across her face that make it obvious she’s all at once at peace and at war with herself.

It’s all he can do to keep a watchful eye on the other audience members, head on a swivel to ensure no one is taking advantage of the distraction. There are more glistening eyes, hands clutched to chests, than security risks though.

He forces himself to relax. Twenty-four hours, he can unwind, for twenty-four hours, he can be exactly who she needs.

Xaden positions himself behind Violet, wraps his arms around her so her back is pulled flush to his body. The back of her head rests perfectly against his collarbone, just right for his chin to set on. The delicate scent of her shampoo wafts up, curling through him and further easing the tension running down his spine, his rigid muscles easing ever so slightly.

They sway with the music.

Time passes fluidly in the dimly lit tavern, chatter continuing in the booths around them, but it’s respectful to the rapt attention on the dance floor for the performer.

The moment is so normal.

Xaden fights the itch of anxiety, of endless awareness from the outpost, from always having to watch his own back for a knife ready to plunge into —

Twenty-four hours, you bastard, he berates himself.

All he should care about is the woman tucked willingly, safely against his body. Warm skin, beating heart. Alive, alive, alive. How many times has that seemed like a question rather than a certainty?

Too many to squander this moment.

Gods, she’d agreed to this reprieve and he can’t risk fucking it up with his own broodiness.

She deserves the world, but if Violet will settle for Xaden Riorson, then he’ll make it worth her while.

The instrument's strings thrum in a final note.

Violet’s lips part in a gentle exhale, her shoulders drop under his arms where he’s folded around her, as if she’s been holding her breath, as the singer ends his song and releases her from his thrall.

“Xaden?”

“Yes?”

It’s his turn to be absolutely captivated as she turns those intelligent eyes on him. A flush from the crowded space has brightened her cheekbones, the bridge of her nose, and her splattering of freckles stands out in contrast as she tilts her head back to see him, but it’s the mage light’s twinkling in the reflection of those sharp, icy depths, the dancing of candle flames against her enlarged pupils —

Xaden inhales sharply.

Godsdamn, this woman. This woman is everything. Everything good, everything right —

“Take me to bed?”

His insides pull tight with arousal at the simple words.

“Alright,” he says, low and deep and rumbling against her body like the hunger that reverberates through his entire being for her. “Alright, Violence. Whatever you say.”

Xaden has other plans than simply going to bed.

The floral scent of the bath oil swirls upwards in the tendrils of steam, the cool air from the open window in the bathing chamber drawing it out towards the night sky. The water laps around shapely calves as Violet crosses one foot over the other on the far lip of the tub. She sighs, luxuriating in the drag of Xaden’s fingers up and down her arms.

It’s taking all of his willpower to keep his erection at bay, from pushing his lustful need into her backside to seek the friction he knows will ease some of the want, while also igniting a flame that will be near impossible to keep from catching, from burning down every last wall of his resolve to behave.

This is about her.

Xaden kisses away the damp mix of salty sweat and bathwater from the swath of Violet’s elegant neck exposed to him.

The variation between his golden-brown hands and her moon pale skin is magnified under the water as he massages her biceps, up to her shoulders. He has to close his eyes to keep from staring at the soft rosebud peaks of her nipples that are pebbled where the water ebbs around them.

“So beautiful,” he breathes against her skin.

“Don’t think this means I still don’t know three different ways to kill you from this position if I need to.”

“I’d think I’m vulnerable enough in this position to incapacitate without much struggle.”

Violet’s chuckle makes her breasts bounce.

Fuck. This is about her, this is about her, this is about her …

“I never knew you could be such a romantic.”

“For you, Vi, I can be anything.” She isn’t wrong. It feels unnatural to slow down, to capture this softness between them. If he’s being honest with himself, it’s driving him a little insane.

But for her. It’s worth it.

Besides, the alternative is driving himself insane over the long list of his worries, of problems to solve, of politics and war and —

He presses his thumb in steady circles along her spine, careful to use just the right amount of pressure to massage her persistently sore muscles and not bruise or cause further pain. Distracts himself with her needs, what he can do for her.

Thinking of the regular discomfort, the regular hurt, Violet carries around in her small body alongside the rest of the shit … If he could, Xaden would carry the burden for her, alleviate whatever aches and pains he possibly could by offering up his own body instead.

“Thank you,” she says, arching her spine like a satiated cat. “That feels amazing.”

“Anywhere else I can massage?”

Violet hums thoughtfully before twisting in the tub until they’re facing each other, breathing the same air.

“If you’ll let me have my turn to take care of you? I can think of something that could use a very intimate massage.”

Xaden lifts his mouth to hers, lets their lips slot against one another. Her tongue immediately begs entrance, exploring the hot cavern of his mouth, the back of his teeth. He grabs a handful of her ass to grind her hips forward, the hard peaks of her nipples press into his chest. It elicits a low moan in the back of her throat.

They taste, touch, take against one another's bodies until Xaden’s certain he’s so hard he may pass out from lack of blood flow above the waist.

They break apart with a thin line of spit connecting their panting mouths.

Violet’s pink tongue darts out to lick clean her kiss-swollen lips, takes that string of their mixed saliva with its return to her mouth.

“Come on.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

Xaden grips her thighs and lifts Violet and himself from the tub in one swift move.

“Let's dry you off and get you tucked into bed, you must be exhausted —”

Violet cuts off his taunting words by locking her ankles at the small of his back and salaciously rubbing the seam of herself against his length.

“Don’t be fucking stupid.”

He laughs.

“Stupid? With you? Never.” He groans as she bucks her hips forward. “Fuck — yeah, Sorrengail, you don’t have an ounce of effect on me.”

She grins wolfishly and nips at his jawline. “Ounces? No. Inches?” She grinds against him pointedly. “Hm, I think that’s up for debate.”

Xaden growls, on the verge of losing the careful control over his desire for her that he’s held locked up firmly tight all evening.

The rich timbre of her laugh fills the bedroom as Xaden carries her into the room. His shadows twirl and dance, unwittingly feeding off of his steady flow of emotions. Or maybe just as fond of the sound as their master.

Xaden doesn’t need to read her intentions to know the slick moisture of her cunt against his iron hard cock isn’t bath water, is nothing but her own heady want for him.

“Let me take care of you,” she whispers, peppering kisses along his jaw, his neck, paying careful attention to the ridges of his marked tattoo.

“How do you plan to do that, Vi?”

“Set me down.”

He obeys.

Couldn’t act against her will even if he wanted.

Violet smiles seductively over her shoulder before turning her attention to her pack. Her skin is still pink from the bath water, smells so strongly of the oil that all Xaden wants to do is bury his face in the lush skin of her breasts, her hips, her thighs and never bother breathing air that isn’t scented with her again.

The muscles along her back flex as she moves, undoing the draw strings and rifling through —

What she withdraws from her pack is the last thing Xaden expects.

Violet’s lips cock upwards along with a single brow.

In her small but sure hands is the coil of soft threaded rope he’d gifted her along with the Tyrrish knot tying books.

“I thought I’d show you what I’ve learned so far?”

Xaden’s eyes dart between the metal headboard of the bed frame to the rope to the sultry look in her pale blue eyes. He draws his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Do you want me to —”

“No.” Violet steps forward until she’s close enough she has to look up to meet his heated gaze. “Let me take care of you,” she repeats.

Xaden swallows thickly.

She tilts her head to the side. “Unless you don’t want me to?”

“N-no, I do,” Xaden rushes to say, fumbling like an untried youth. His dick might explode he wants her to that much. “I just … It’s difficult for me, to …”

“Trust?” Challenge flashes in her expression, but she lets it pass like a storm cloud. “I know. But you can trust me, Xaden. Give up control. Just for a few hours.”

Relief washes over him that the conversation won’t pivot to the deeper issues around that single word: ‘trust.’ How can he ask this of her when he refuses to give it to her?

Violet drapes the rope along the muscular planes of his chest. Tickles his dusky nipple with the end. She looks up beneath her lashes at him. There’s something vulnerable in that look, the knowledge she’s offering to take this on and if he tells her no, it will be taken as a rejection, a direct criticism of his belief in her capabilities.

“Please?”

Xaden huffs a laugh. “A few hours, Violence? Even for me, that may be a stretch.”

She grins, wide and open.

“Let’s find out, then.”

The silky threads of the rope tickle, tease, drag out more and more lust from Xaden than he thought possible as Violet’s nimble fingers work around his wrists.

He feels no shame when he closes his mouth around the nipple hovering just at his line of sight.

“Oh,” she moans, slow to move away from him.

Xaden lets his teeth drag along the sensitive skin as she does. Shadows draw upwards, drag in a cool breeze along the wet skin.

“Oh,” she repeats.

A bead of precome smears against his abdomen as his cock jerks from the sound.

He tugs half-heartedly at the restraints around his wrists. “Are you done?” There’s too much give, she better say no.

“Yes.”

“Wrong.”

The Wingleader creeps back into his tone. Defiant fire ignites in Violet’s gaze.

The shadows twist for her breasts, sullen to lose contact with the soft flesh, before dissipating and pooling around the ropes under her fingers. They flow like water into the shape to correct the knot.

“Theoretically, it’s correct,” Xaden offers her, “But in practice, you haven’t accommodated for the size of my wrists — or how much I’ve practiced dislocating my thumb to slip restraints.”

Violet gapes for a moment, before slapping her mouth back shut. “You don’t.”

“I do,” he assures, voice a purr as he eyes those delicious nipples once more.

She lets the shadows guide her adjustments on the rope.

“Better?”

Xaden pulls.

There’s no give.

Electricity runs down his spine, jolts his abdomen low until arousal and a heavy dose of fear coil tight in a dangerous, heady cocktail. Rationally, he can tell himself his shadows could assist his escape if needed —

Cold steel kisses the vulnerable skin of his neck.

Violet angles the dagger casually, lethal grace personified.

“I can see those gears turning, Riorson. I told you to let me take over.”

A shiver runs unbidden across his skin. Xaden drops his head back, exposing his neck to her while blinking in a daze at the room’s ceiling.

He has to look away, unless he wants to come untouched.

Gods, how long has it been since they were last together?

Violet sets the dagger reverently to the side, still in her reach but without posing a danger to either of the bed’s occupants. She returns to the spot where her blade had just been pressed and kisses away the lingering red mark that must be there. Her lips work a steady path from that spot down, down, down.

Xaden groans when the flat of her tongue traces the cut of his abdominals.

He tugs at his restraints.

He needs to touch her. Needs to feel her on every inch of his skin, on him and in her and as close as they can be until they’re one writhing tangle of limbs and heat and everything, everything, everything he’s been craving.

The headboard doesn’t budge. The knot doesn’t give.

It will be his shoulders that are done in first if he really tries to get himself loose.

Xaden’s heart rate ticks up. He’s trapped, completely at Violet’s mercy.

The increased blood flow only rushes to his cock.

When he looks down, Violet is staring with lustful fascination at his swollen, throbbing cock. The tip glistens with precome. She licks her lips and Xaden curses every god he knows the name of.

This woman will be his undoing.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers, her breath dancing over the taut skin of his length.

But instead of touching her lips, her tongue, her mouth to his aching need, she licks away the evidence of his dripping desire that has pooled on his stomach. Hot breath and saliva tracking everywhere except where he desperately needs her attention.

“Violence,” he groans, bucking his hips needily upwards.

“Do that again and I’ll have the dagger to your balls.”

Xaden swallows thickly. He doesn’t need to use his powers to know this magnificent woman perched between his legs means every word of her threat. He roots his ass into the mattress.

“Good boy,” praises Violet.

Her delicate fingers grip his hip, making him tense as she brushes her nails along the vee of muscle above it.

Xaden squeezes his eyes shut, fighting the urge to arch upwards once more.

“Relax,” she teases next, and he feels the pressure of the flat of her hand on him before the displacement of her weight results in the rub of her breasts along his cock. His eyes shoot open and he looks back down to capture the absolutely sinful look of Violet with her bottom lip sucked between her teeth, ass high in the air, watching his expression while her free hand guides her pert breasts along his length …

“Shit,” he gasps. “Violet, you … You …”

“Me?”

“You’re —” Words, fuck, what are words? “Godsdamn, you’re incredible.”

“Mm,” she hums, swirling a hard nipple along his tip and dear gods he isn’t going to last if the intensity of that touch is any giveaway.

Without thinking, Xaden tries to reach for her —

“Fuck. Untie me, Vi, I need to —”

“Relax,” she commands with all the weight of the rider of one of the most powerful dragons of their time.

“I can’t relax if you don’t fucking touch me like you mean it,” he growls, feeling mad with lust. The shadows writhe in the room, twisting and surging and begging for more right alongside him.

Violet rolls her eyes disapprovingly. “You’re such a baby.”

“I’m not —”

The retort is cut off by an animalistic noise from deep in his throat when Violet finally, finally wraps her lips around the head of his cock. The warm clutch of her mouth feels like milk and honey and every promised land written of in ancient and modern texts.

Using the flat of her tongue next, she licks a broad stripe down the pulsing vein on the backside of his cock. It heats and then cools as she passes and his length jumps with pleasure just as she slides her way down to his balls, cradling them adoringly in her mouth next.

She laps at the underside of his sack. A breath hisses between his teeth as Xaden fights every urge to damn his shoulders and find a way to shake loose the ropes, to take hold of Violet and her teasing mouth —

The ability to think coherently dies when she swallows him down once more.

Air whooshes out of his lungs.

Xaden’s nails dig into the palm of his hands.

Fuck, fuck, she feels amazing sucking him down. Born to take his cock. Made to draw pleasure from him.

Violet purrs happily around him, smug at stealing the breath from his lungs as his mind hones in on the nerve endings set ablaze within him from the tight seal of her lips working down his shaft. Her cheeks hollow out and drool edges out of her lips as she moves, slipping and sliding her way up and down until the tip of his cock is nudging the back of her throat.

“Vi, you don’t have to —”

He has enough survival instincts to sense her fingers creeping towards the dagger.

Xaden chokes off the rest of his protests. Slams the back of his skull into the headboard to try and fight the overwhelming sensation of her taking him deep, deeper than she ever has before.

His thighs shake with the effort to control —

With a firm, tender touch, Violet grips his balls in one hand and the base of his shaft with the other.

“Shit, shit, yeah, just like that,” he praises huskily. Without the use of his hands or the permission to move on his own, it’s all he has, the words to coax her, to encourage and appreciate as she increases her efforts with vigor. “I’m not going to last,” he warns, panting.

Violet doesn’t back off, doesn’t relent.

Trapped, thrashing internally, Xaden raves against the inner walls of his mind.

Hot. Tight. Fucking gods and dragons above.

Nothing else exists except this moment, this juncture of their bodies.

Fuck Navarre. Fuck Tyrrendor. Fuck the revolution.

Who cares if he’s Fen Riorson’s son? If he’s responsible for one hundred and seven Marked Ones? If an entire country could be cut off at the knees with his recklessness.

Fuck. It.

This is it.

This is everything.

Release pounds at the base of his skull and the next time she takes him down, swallows around his length and twists the base of his cock like she makes a living from pleasuring men, Xaden is dropping over the edge with a shout. He comes down her throat in long, hot spurts. She takes it, and takes it, and takes it.

Minutes pass in euphoria, needing time to come down from his orgasm, from the powerful, white-hot wash of giving over completely to Violet.

When he feels as if he’s back in his body once more, Violet has already wiped her cherry red mouth clean with the back of her hand. She crawls up his body to rest her head over his thundering heart, turning to press her ear directly above it.

Like she needs to feel and hear the incessant reminder that he’s living.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, not able to feel shame for the short time he lasted when Violet moved so expertly on him. “Untie me and I can take care of you, sweetheart.”

She presses a gentle kiss onto his sweat sheened chest. “Did I say I was done?”

“No …”

“Do you need a drink? A snack? I figured some time to recover would serve both of us well,” she says, letting her fingers brush his over-sensitive cock and making him jump.

Xaden blinks back welling emotions at her dedication to take care of him, shoves it deep, deep down with the other feelings of inadequacy that chase him in her presence.

“Water, thanks,” he croaks.

Perceptive as ever, Violet adjusts so her chin rests on his brown skin and she can observe him with heavy lids. “Can you handle more? I didn’t ask about a safe word. Should we —”

“Hell no, it’s fine,” he says adamantly, “Just need some water after you sucked my soul right out of me.”

A pretty blush decorates Violet’s cheeks as she pushes off of him. “Oh. Alright, then.” She rolls off of the bed and her long, beautiful hair tumbles down her bare back as she stands. Her hips swish with each step, accentuating the dimples above her ass as she crosses the room to the dresser and the pitcher of water on it.

Powerful and lithe, capable of bringing anyone to their knees through her arresting looks — or her immense skill in the use of force.

It should be impossible, but Xaden’s cock is stirring as he watches her movements. There’s a slight sting in his wrists where the rope has bit in, an ache in his shoulders, but nothing that isn’t made sweet from the mind-blowing orgasm he’s still coming down from.

“What?” she asks, catching him staring.

“You’re incredible.”

She snorts. “So you’ve said.” She pours him a glass of water and brings it back to bed, sitting gingerly beside him and holding the glass to his lips. “Drink.”

He obeys, but he doesn’t drop that icy blue gaze.

“I mean it,” he says once he’s taken his fill, the cool water coating his throat and taming the ragged edges she’d torn from him earlier.

But it does nothing to cool the want growing in the pit of his stomach once more.

Violet sets the glass on the bedside table, cooly assesses his quickly hardening length, and hitches a thigh over his waist. Straddling him, thighs flexed as if she were sitting in Tairn’s saddle, Xaden feels a momentary flash of jealousy for the dragon. What good fortune, to have this woman riding him day in and day out, to feel the connection where her legs rest against his body, the heat of the apex of her thighs …

His mouth runs dry despite having quenched his thirst.

With Violet Sorrengail, there seems to be no singular satisfaction that can be achieved.

She doesn’t tease him this time, and he can feel why as she takes his length in hand and guides the head of his cock to her dripping entrance.

So, so wet, just for him.

Something painfully close to a whine nearly leaves his throat.

Violet swirls her hips as she winds her way down his cock, her greedy cunt pulling him in. Her lashes flutter closed as she adjusts to the stretch of him, to the way he fills her like he can’t possibly fit in her tight, molten core.

They haven’t been joined in this way in far too long.

But Violet takes it in stride and with a sweet, breathy moan she impales herself on his iron hard cock until the wet, slick skin of her center is flush to his body.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” Xaden exhales, nostrils flaring wide as every part of him screams to thrust upward, to break loose of his restraints, to seize her and claim her.

Every part aside from the steady hold on his balls her earlier threats have on him.

Blinking her dark lashes open, Violet opens her mouth in a silent moan as she begins to grind down on him.

“You take me so well,” he continues, wishing he could spread a hand across her lower abdomen, to feel where he has to be pressing against her insides. She’s so impossibly small, riding his fat cock like it doesn’t defy physics. “Incredible, fucking incredible.”

She doesn’t say anything, just smiles knowingly.

And then she proves to him just how stupid it is to assume this woman abides by any law of nature.

They’ve both come until there must be no fluids left in their bodies.

Violet lets out a breathy, sated sigh as she flops down beside him. Xaden lifts the covers for her to wiggle underneath, to protect her still naked body against the chill of the night air against their sweat slicked bodies.

“So, that was …”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” Violet says, settling in only to flop back towards the nightstand. She coils back towards him, but this time with a rolled churam cigarette.

Xaden screws up his brow. “Why not?”

She eyes him and there’s a flash of something there, something like distrust, that strikes him deep to his core. Like a bolt of lightning she doesn’t need her signet to wield. Instead of answering, she lights the cigarette and leans back against the headboard.

“I don’t need to hear how my knot tying could be better.” She inhales and he can’t look away from the way her lips wrap around the rolled paper, the way her cheeks hollow out … His cock makes a valiant effort to rally, but graciously continues to rest, soft and sated, on his thigh.

“There was nothing to critique about your skills,” he says, accepting the churam from her. “As for your creativity … Well, I can expand your application on that later.” He winks, taking a long drag.

They both exhale and lean back, watching the earthy, sweet scented smoke curl and join together on the path to the ceiling.

“Your wrists don’t hurt?” she asks after an uncertain amount of time passes with only smoke and comfortable silence hanging between them.

He shakes his head, cutting a sideways glance her way. “Does that bother you?”

“Of course not.”

“Really? You aren’t going soft, are you, Violence?”

She rolls her eyes, taking one last puff of the cigarette before handing him the rest to finish on his own. “I’m going to get some sleep in this very comfortable, very expensive, definitely not fucked in by dozens of horny Basgiath students, bed.”

“Try tens of dozens.”

“Gross.”

Xaden shrugs, pinching out the end of the churam roll and setting it to the side. They both settle lower in bed so their heads are on the pillow, their bodies easily rotating towards one another. Violet has a hand resting under her cheek, her hair braided over one slender shoulder, and she blinks sleepily at him.

“Thank you. For this. I needed it,” Xaden confesses, letting the darkness of the night and maybe an extra layer of his shadows hide his vulnerability from the rest of the world.

Violet’s fingers curl into the pillow. She nods curtly, but when Xaden cups her chin in his hand, her indifference melts. Moonlight catches the silver lining of her eyes that neither of them will speak of.

“Same.”

She squeezes her eyes shut and presses against the connection of their skin.

Xaden lets the hot tears fall without comment, watches her mourn and grieve as if standing guard over a fallen brethren's grave. Here, in this space, in these twenty-four hours they’ve given themselves, he’s going to be everything she needs.

He won’t tell her to push it down, to repress all of that sadness and guilt and the crushing weight of that presence missing from their lives …

She shuffles closer until her forehead is resting on his chest and Xaden can wrap her snugly in his arms. Wills any strength he can to pass through the embrace as her body shakes with silent sobs.

The churam’s high insulates his nerves, keeps him from feeling out of control in the face of this. Normally, displays of sadness make him itch, make it feel as if something horrible is trying to claw its way out of him, but now he simply holds her and peppers kisses into Violet’s hair.

“I feel heavy.”

Those words feel decades in the past as she finally stills, as the last of her tears dry out and her body relaxes. Tension seeps from her as Violet’s breathing regulates and she curls closer, closer, closer to him.

A familiar talon scrapes along the tepid bond. "You've done well for your mate," Sgaeyl appraises.

"Did we barge into your evening like you two so often do?" Xaden doesn't bother correcting her use of the word 'mate,' not tonight when he feels near boneless.

"Not from your amorous activities. Tairn worries for his rider's mental state." The sting of her easy dismissal of his abilities to please his partner passes quickly. Dragons. They don't hold punches. There's a significant pause. "He's resting now."

So, he'd eased Tairn's mind.

"Good night, Sgaeyl. Thank you."

Violet shifts against him. He kisses the top of her hair one more time before uncurling enough to give her the space she needs for sleep.

There’s nothing to say as they both drift off into the first restful sleep in months, even knowing he's earned another nod of approval from Sgaeyl's mate. It's probably the only decent rest they’ll have for months to come if their track record is anything to go off of.

For now, they’re just a nobody couple renting a room to fuck and cuddle away the stress of life.

#xaden x violet #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #fourth wing #iron flame #the empyrean #FW fanfic #my writing

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