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#a masterlist is a masterlist no matter how small
churipu · 2 days
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Hellooo! I saw ur reqs wer open and I wanted to know if its oknif ok if u can write abt the jjk men being their for their gf's performance/exhibit for school or work when their family or friends can't make it?
(I love how how the way you write them as well! I found u through the nanami oneshot and I've just been on ur masterlist reading through all of ur fics and drabbles, esp now with me going through the same thing as above 💛)
𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐀𝐑𝐓 .ᐟ
❪ jjk men showing up in your art exhibition when nobody did ❫
────── 𝕴 . featuring. gojo satoru, nanami kento, itadori yuuji x fem! reader
────── 𝕴 . warnings. none :)
note. hi nonnie :( thank you so much for the love, i'm so sorry for the delay, i'm so sorry that happened to you. i'm 100% sure whatever you were presenting to everyone was awesome! i love you <33
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𝜗𝜚 . GOJO SATORU
gojo has received your heads up regarding an art exhibit a week prior. he'd notice the way you've been very very excited about having your art work presented for people to see. and he's happy to see you happy.
he made it extra clear he wanted nothing with the jujutsu world the day your exhibit was held — all he wanted was a nice and peaceful day to spend with his partner. gojo woke up extra early to send you off, helping you get ready.
the way your smile lit up his morning, he couldn't even get back to sleep right after, seeing how happy you are with today. gojo can't even wait for the time to struck twelve for the exhibition opening, and so he got there an hour early.
he was silent with his movements, a beautiful bouquet of flowers in his grasp as he paced around the crowded area — blue eyes averting everywhere to look for you. with his height, finding you wasn't too hard for him.
pushing through oceans of humans, he stood right in front of you. the solemn look on your face doesn't go unnoticed, "hi, baby."
you look up to see him and crack a smile, "you came."
gojo grins down at you, "of course i did, can't miss my girl's exhibition, can i?" his large hand covered the top of your head, "why the frown? are you not happy to see me?"
chuckling, you shake your head, "no. my parents couldn't make it, they were too busy with work."
and you were so excited to show them your art work too. gojo didn't forget the way you rambled on about how your parents were going to love it — especially when it was dedicated to them. and they butchered it up by choosing work over you.
this time, gojo frowns along with you, "they didn't show up?"
with a shake of your head, gojo pulls you into his embrace, "i'm sorry that happened, show me everything? i arrived here an hour ago to see you, you know?"
"one hour? so early and for what?"
"to see you, silly. i couldn't wait to see all your works," he pressed his lips onto your forehead, "and this is for my beautiful girl."
he handed you the bouquet and laced his fingers with yours, "let's get some food after this? it's a date."
"it's a date!" you smiled, no longer feeling upset.
𝜗𝜚 . NANAMI KENTO
people always tell you to never get excited over small things, but you couldn't help it — the slightest things made you really happy, but at the same time, the slightest things made you sad as well.
i'm sorry, can't come to the exhibit. something came up, i'll try to swing by next time y/n! maybe next year? sorry :(
you read the text over and over again. this should be fine, (friend) was probably just busy with their day so they couldn't drop by — no matter how hard you try to convince yourself that it was fine. you didn't feel like it. they promised.
"i'm sorry i'm late, y/n."
turning around to look at the source of the voice, there stood your boyfriend. sweat dribbling down the side of his face, hair disheveled with shallow and rapid breaths. he looked like he just ran a marathon.
"kento? i thought you couldn't make it—"
nanami shook his head, "i made time for you, i will always make time for you," he gave you a small smile.
"you're not late, just in time actually," you switched your phone off, shoving it inside the back pocket of your jeans, "thank you for coming for me."
he wiped his sweat, standing up straight, stepping towards you, "where are your friends? they should be here now, are they not?"
the corner of your lips tugged downwards. it was embarrassing as it is, and now you had to tell him that they weren't coming. it's like a slap to the face, "um . . . they aren't coming. something came up, and i guess they couldn't come."
nanami's eyebrows twitched slightly, but he said nothing. his hand reached out for yours, giving it a slight squeeze, "spend the rest of your day with me?"
you blinked, "how about work?"
"don't worry about my work, you come first, understood?" he brushed his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for a brief kiss.
𝜗𝜚 . ITADORI YUUJI
maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics made you a better person. maybe the fact that your parents were workaholics pushed you to do better — like a cry for attention. but for some apparent reason, they never seemed to be satisfied with what you're doing.
"art brings you no good, what are you going to be? an artist? do you know how much they earn a year?"
don't be an artist this. don't be an artist that. it was pretty expected that your invitation for them was discarded with no thoughts behind. hell, they didn't even spare it a glance.
and yet, the little girl in you still hoped that they'd show up — even just for a while.
they didn't, it should be obvious. you saw it coming, but it still hurts anyways. however, itadori yuuji showed up; and he was like a ball of sunshine, so you couldn't help but to be happy as well. especially with how packed his schedule is, he still made the time to stop by.
"baby!"
"yuuji!"
he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into a tight hug, carrying you around with ease, "sorry i came a little late, kugisaki needed me to bring her shopping bags back to the cab. where are your parents? they should be here, right?"
right. they should have.
"no, they didn't come," you murmured into the crook of his neck before pulling your head back with a sad smile plastered to your face, "but i'm okay, you're here now!"
yuuji puckered his lips out slightly, "i'm going to pester gojo-sensei to let me off for the rest of the day, i need to be here with you."
you shake your head, "you can't, what if you have a mission?"
"fushiguro can take over, pretty. don't worry about my missions," yuuji replied, nuzzling his nose to the side of your face, "plus, how can i leave you alone here, huh?"
"you're the sweetest, yuuji. but what if it's an important mission?" you pinched his cheeks gently, pulling them.
"fushiguro can take over, he's strong. and there's kugisaki, and the second year students. they'll manage," he retorted, pecking your cheek before letting you down.
"you're too nice, yuuji."
"i love you. and show me your works, i can't wait to see them, you know? kugisaki wanted pictures!"
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© churipu 2024 , do not copy or repost anywhere
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Just one kiss | Lloyd Hansen
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// Pairing //
-> DrugDealer!Lloyd Hansen x Innocent!Virgin!Female!Reader
// Summary //
-> Your best friend — Ransom Drysdale — asks you to buy special pills for him. You don’t know what he means and you didn’t know that the dealer isn’t like Ransom described the man.
// Wordcount //
-> 4.586 Words
// Warnings // Explicit Content
-> 18+, Minors DNI, dark content, Ransom is a dick, innocent!Reader (really innocent!), talking about drugs, manipulation, non/dub-con, Lloyd being Lloyd, blackmail, innocence kink, daddy kink, handjob, oral (male!receiving), cumming on the face, cum play, finger sucking, degrading, praises
// Authors Note //
-> I want to thank @bucks-babe for all those comments and for proofreading.
-> Written for the “Cum Together: A Community Revival Extravaganza�� Event hosted by @labella420 and @stargazingfangirl18.
Prompt: Blackmail + Cum play + “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it.”
// Masterlist | Lloyd Hansen Masterlist //
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     “Come one, please! He is so nice and I just ask you for that favor. Best friends do that for their best friends, princess,” Ransom says, pouting slightly when you still look unsure about his ask.
     You play with your fingers, sliding them over the short pink skirt you’re wearing because your best friend asked you to do so. Aren’t you already a good best friend because you always wear what Ransom asks you to wear?
     “Ransom, I—I don’t know. I’ve never bought something from him. And m—my parents always say to not get too close to him — to Lloyd Hansen,” you say, his name only a whisper afraid that someone could hear you.
     “Princess, I wouldn’t ask when it wouldn’t really mean something to me,” he says, his hand finds its place on your bare thigh and you shiver slightly under his soft touch. “I will give you the money, please.”
     “Why don’t you go there yourself?” You ask, looking at him suspiciously. He chuckles, his fingers dig into your soft skin and you hiss softly about his sudden roughness.
     “Lloyd and I, uhm, we had some differences in the past and he told me to piss off,” Ransom confesses, scratching the back of his neck.
     It wasn't a lie, Lloyd doesn’t really like Ransom but the actual reason he wants you to go there is because sweet, innocent girls like you get better offers than Ransom would get.
     “Don’t you love me, princess?” Your best friend asks, his smile fades away and he tilts his head down, avoiding your gaze. He also removes his hand from your thigh, causing your heart to ache. You don’t like to offend your best friend, especially not to make him sad just because of something he asks you to buy.
     “I do love you, Ran,” you mumble, moving closer to capture his cheeks with your hands. You lift his head so he has to look into your eyes and then you kiss his nose, smirking when he does. “I will buy it for you, what do you want me to buy?”
     “Some special pills. Nothing big, just tell him that you want a small bag of special pills, then Lloyd knows what you ask for, princess,” Ransom says, his grin back on his lips. You nod, letting go of his cheeks and crawl into his lap, cuddling into him, while he wraps his arms around your small body and pulls you closer.
     You’re such a good girl for him, he loves how innocent you are — his sweet girl would do everything he asks for when he just plays the right cards. He loves it, his dick loves your innocence not less. It’s growing and throbbing in his pants while you cuddle you cuddle yourself into his tall, muscular body.
     “Ran! You forgot your keys in your pocket!” You complain, rolling your eyes playfully. Ransom laughs, pulling you even closer and leans down to your ear.
     “That’s not my key, princess. That’s my cock,” he mumbles, causing your eyes to widen and shift slightly. No matter where you try to sit you have his cock point into your ass or back.
     Every slight movement on his lap makes Ransom groan and his dick growing even more. “Why isn’t it moving to the side?”
     Fuck! Your innocence makes him go crazy and he just wants to destroy your little pussy, wants to fill you with his cum and make you come and scream over his cock over and over again. Tears would stream down your cheeks but you would beg for more and he would gladly give it to you, fucking you until you’re nothing but a whimpering mess underneath him.
     “Don’t you know what that is? My cock.” He asks, raising his eyebrow when you shake your head ashamed. Ransom smirks even wider, his fingers draw small circles on your back, grinning you over his hard cock. “I will explain it to you at some point but first you go to Lloyd and buy what I asked you to buy.”
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     Ransom brought you to Lloyd’s house, even when it’s more like a mansion. A cold shiver runs along your spine when Ransom lets you step out of the car, hurrying you to finally drive to a park slot on the side.
     “What happened between you and Lloyd actually, why doesn't he want you to buy something?” You ask innocently while you don’t make a move to get out of the car.
     Sweat is running his face down when he looks in all directions. Would Lloyd see him near his mansion he would probably torture him until he begs for forgiveness. “I— uhm. I accidentally shot him in his ass.”
     You giggle, then you get out of the car and wave with a soft smile at Ransom before you make your way along the path to the big building. Your hands start to sweat and you press them against the skirt as an attempt to cover more of your bare legs.
     Lloyd watches you already from the window, his tongue slides over his lips, while he smirks. So innocent. He groans quietly, turning around to make his way to a chair in the middle of the room. He fucking loves to see those girls all sweet standing there and asking him nicely and cute for some special pills — going to parties with them but you? You look so different, so innocent, so untouched.
     His dick is growing when he’s deepening his thoughts about what he could do with you, letting you twirl for him, lifting your skirt. He wants to see you, all of you — you’re so different to all these other girls.
     But his thoughts get interrupted when someone is knocking at the door, when he growls a low ‘yes’ you open the door and look at him. His hair is slicked back, mustache and white pants with a shirt — exactly how everyone describes him. He smirks at you, leaning back in his chair, his legs spread open and his hands resting on his thighs.
     “Come in, little one,” he tells you. His eyes are roaming over your body and you want to make yourself even smaller. With a short movement you close the door behind you and walk further toward him.
     “H—Hi,” you mumble, looking down, your shoes suddenly the most interesting thing you have ever seen. The creaking noise of the chair makes your eyes widen, hearing him walking closer to you, your body tenses and a quiet whimper leaves your lips.
      “What can I do for such a sweet girl like you?” He sounds nice, not like your parents told you. His hand grasps your chin, tilting your head back so you have to look into his eyes, he is grinning down at you, while he leans closer and there are only inches between your faces.
     “I— My best friend — Ransom. H—He wants me to buy some special pills for him,” you explain, body trembling under the intense gaze of the older man. Lloyd smirks, his hands finding their way to your hips and he pulls you flat against his muscular chest.
     “Mhm, Ransom?” He asks, knowing exactly who he is. When you nod, his grin widens and he pulls you with him closer to the chair. You’re too focused not to just turn around and run out of the building so you don’t really realize that Lloyd leads you to the chair where he lets himself fall down and holds you still between his thick, muscular thighs. “Are you his girl, little one?”
     “N—No, he is my best friend,” you mumble, looking at your hands. Even though Lloyds hands are warm and his grip is firm, you still feel uncomfortable there. The building is so big, there aren’t many people you have seen and the owner of that mansion is holding you just inches away from him by your hips.
     “You’re his best friend, know your parents. Strict ones, do they know that their pretty girl is visiting me here? Do your parents know you’re here, little one?” He asks, and you shake your head slowly.
     Your parents would never allow you to visit Lloyd Hansen, he is famous — famous for drugs and illegal things. “Please, don’t tell them. You won’t tell them, right?”
     “Mhm— but you need to give me something for that then, can you do this?” His voice is soft and the smile on his face widens. He pulls you onto his thigh, moving your hips slowly forward and backward before he stops and lifts his one hand to grasp your chin once again. He tilts your head up, looking straight into your eyes and you feel like he can look into your soul.
     “Do you want more money?” You ask, so innocently that his dick is hurting while it presses against the fabric of his white pants.
     “No, can you give me something else?” He asks, fingers digging into your waist while he holds your chin still with his other hand to look into your eyes. His cock twitches when you whimper softly, thinking about something you could offer him.
    “W—What do you want to have?” His grin widens, when it's even possible. He just waited for you to ask that unless you tell him what he wants to hear. But since you’re just as innocent as you look he is glad you asked him what he would like to have so he won’t tell your parents about your little visit in the Hansen mansion.
     “Kiss me,” he mumbles, leaning back while he lets go of your chin and places that hand on your waist as well. Your eyes widen and you whimper, shaking your head.
     “Please, I—I never kissed someone, not even sure how that works. C—Can I just give you more money?” You try but he just ignores your attempts to convince him to give him something else.
     “Little one, I’m rich. I don’t need what you offer me. You have two opportunities. First; you give me what I want. Second; I take what I want,” he explains, grinding you on his thigh. A tingling feeling erupts between your legs and you try to press them together causing Lloyd to chuckle darkly. “I always get what I want, pretty girl. And look how needy you are, clenching your tights like a desperate slut.”
     “I’m not a slut!” You raise your eyebrow until his grip tightens and you immediately blush. You don’t want to upset him, scared of him. Your body still trembles slightly but the pressure between your legs grows especially when he just holds you, instead of grinding you on his thigh to give you some relief.
     “I know, you’re a pretty innocent girl.” He sits up, straight and your lips are suddenly so close that you can feel his warm breath on your skin. Lloyd groans when you move closer against him, your pussy rubbing over his hard cock and your eyes widen.
     “I—Is that also your cock? R—Ransoms was hard too earlier,” you tell him, looking down where you just feel his hard bulge pressing against you. A low chuckle leaves his lips, causing you to look into his eyes again.
     “That’s my cock, when you kiss me already you can see it. Do you want to see it?” You nod slightly, and he feels his cock twitch once again. Your innocence makes him go crazy, you’re on his lap, willing to kiss him so he won’t tell your parents that you are visiting him. And willing so you can see his throbbing cock.
     Even when you would have said no, he already knew the kiss isn’t everything he wants from you. When such a sweet and innocent girl walks into his mansion and makes his cock painfully hard and throbbing he will definitely use that to fuck you or at least have you suck off his cock.
     You lean slightly forward, you don’t know why but something changes inside of you and you feel comfortable around Lloyd and you really want to see his cock since Ransom wasn’t explaining it to you. So you press your lips softly against his, just a moment before you pull back and giggle softly.
         “Your mustache tickles, Mr. Hansen,” you say, reaching out your hand to slide your fingers over his mustache. You're so perfect for him, so innocent but still so confident when you feel comfortable. He is sure he won’t let you go that easy; you’re his now — his little one, Lloyd's pretty girl.
     “Was that a kiss, little one? Give Daddy a real kiss,” he asks, raising his eyebrow when you nod slowly. He laughs, capturing your cheeks with his hands and pulling you closer, his lips pressing on yours with such force that you gasp. You part your lips slightly, and Lloyd uses the moment to slip his tongue into your mouth, causing you to moan.
     You press him by his chest away, his cheeks heating up, and you look down at your lap. “I’m sorry, I—I didn’t want to moan.”
     “Ahh, pretty girl. Let me hear you moan again, yeah?” Before you can answer, he presses his lips against yours once again. His hands slide to your back and lower down until he grabs your ass, squeezing harshly and causing another moan to leave your lips.
     When he lets you pull away, you breathe heavily, your hands resting on his muscular chest while you look into his eyes. They are a little darker than before, filled with an emotion you have seen in Ransom's eyes sometimes — mostly when his hand slid up your leg underneath your skirt until you moved away from your best friend with a questioning look.
    Lloyd's hands are still capturing your cheeks. He smirks at you, his eyes roaming down your body to your chest, biting his lip before his gaze slides lower to your short skirt. “Do your parents know that you look like a little desperate slut with such short skirts?” 
     “N—No, Ransom asked me to wear it for him. Don’t you like it?” Lloyd chuckles, one hand making its way to your skirt, and he slips it underneath the fabric, stroking the soft skin of your thigh. He groans, his fingers moving closer to your panties, but you grasp his arm just before his fingertip is touching your pussy.
     “It looks pretty, little one. Now get up so I can show you my cock. What do you think?” He asks softly before pushing you off his lap. You immediately stand up and wait in front of him while he unbuckles his belt and lets his white pants fall down his thick, muscular thighs.
     In his boxers is a big bulge, and you guess that’s what he meant. What you didn’t think of was that he was going to push the fabric down as well. His weeping cock slaps against his stomach; the tip is red, and a vein is running along the underside of his huge length.
     “You can touch it, pretty girl.” You shake your head, just looking at his length, before you look him in the eyes again. “Do you want me to tell your parents that you’re going out in such a slutty outfit that you were sitting on my lap and kissing me?”
     “P—Please, don't tell them,” you say quietly, a small pout on your lips. Lloyd chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips, kissing the pout softly away. Then he places his pants between the two on the ground before he pushes you by your shoulders down until you’re on your knees, looking up at him with your innocent gaze.
     “Take it in your hand. Wrap your little fingers around Daddy's huge cock. Can you do that?” He asks so softly that you nod and lift your arms, placing one on his thick thigh.
      “But you’re not my daddy, Mr. Hansen,” you mumble, looking at him with your innocent and now slightly confused gaze.
     “I’m your daddy now, little one. I take care of you, don’t I?” When you slightly nod he grins wide and points at his hard, leaking cock. You bring your other hand to his cock and wrap your fingers around his hard cock.
     Lloyd groans, throwing his head back when your soft skin touches his cock. He then looks back down at you, waiting for you to move your hand, but you're just sitting there and staring at his cock in your hand. His dick twitches in your hand, more pre-cum leaking down his red tip when he thinks about everything he could do with you — taking your virginity and making you his — Lloyds Hansen’s pretty girl.
    “Move your hand, little one.” You look up; your eyes widen when he gives you more instructions. You thought he would let you go after you kissed him, so why does he want you to move your hand around his cock?
     “But you said only a kiss,” you mumble, your eyes watering — your emotions are overwhelming; you feel so embarrassed, but at the time, you don’t want Lloyd to tell your parents that you’re here. And his cock feels not bad in your hand either. He places his hand around yours, grip tightens while he moves your hand up and down his thick length.
     “Good girl,” Lloyd praises, his hand tightening even more around yours and his cock, while he picks up the pace. He groans, his hips thrusting up when you move your hand at a slow pace up and down his cock. “Doin’ so well, little on. Now let's try something else: open your mouth and take my dick into your mouth.
    “No, Mr. Hansen, please. I’ve never done that before; I—I don’t think I wanna do that,” you say, quietly and not looking up. Your grip around his cock loosens, and you place both of your hands on your thighs.
    “You don’t want to?” He asks, his voice dangerously sweet, and you shiver lightly. When you shake your head, he grasps your hair, tugging harshly at it and making you look at him. “I don't care; you're gonna suck my cock, or I will tell your parents that you begged me to fuck you, want that? Want your parents to know that you’re nothing but a little whore?”
     You don't really listen to him; your thoughts are running wild, and tears are building in your eyes, making their way slowly down your cheeks. Lloyd wipes his thumb over your cheeks to wipe the tears away; they just turn him on even more — he didn't know you could turn him on even more, but you do. His other hand is still tugging painfully at your hair.
    “Then be a good girl and do what Daddy asks for. Now take it in your mouth, or I will make you take it,” he groans, waiting a moment for you to move, but you just sit there, quietly crying and staring at his cock. Lloyd sighs, pushing your head closer to his cock and wrapping his own hand around his base. He brings his cock to your lips, smearing his pre-cum over them before he pushes his tip between your lips.
     “Come on, pretty girl,” he says, raising one of his eyebrows before he taps his hand softly on your cheek until you open your mouth wider and he is able to push his cock into your mouth.
    Lloyd doesn’t give you much time before he shoves his cock down your throat. You immediately gag around his length, your fingers digging into his thick thighs while he holds you in place for a moment. Your eyes water, and you try to pull away, but the older man’s grin is too tight for you to move away.
     “Fuck, pretty mouth feeling so good,” he growls, pulling out of you and giving you a moment to inhale deeply.
     “Please, don’t; it’s so big,” you whimper, trying to push him away from you. But at your next attempt to say something, he shoves his huge length into your mouth and down your throat again. Your teeth scratch along his soft skin, causing him to buck his hips forward.
     He pulls you off his cock, leaning forward until his face is next to yours. Lloyd is biting into your earlobe, causing you to yelp. “Open your mouth wider, like the good slut you are for me.”
     “B—But your cock is so big, Daddy,” you whimper, tears falling down your cheeks. When he pulls you back and smirks at you, causing you to be slightly scared — he looks so soft and at the same time something dark is glistening in his eyes and expression.
     “You will get used to it. Fuck— should keep you just for me; what do you think, little one?” He asks, chuckling when you try to shake your head. You open your mouth wider when he presses the tip of his cock against your lips. Lloyd shoves his cock into your mouth, smirking proudly when your teeth aren’t scratching against his huge dick. You’re once again gagging around his length; the tears are falling down your cheeks, and saliva is dripping down your mouth. “Daddy told you he gets what he wants. And when he wants to keep you, then he will! So be good and suck my dick and breathe through your nose.”
     Your nails dig almost painfully into the skin of his thigh, grounding yourself. When you breathe through your nose like he told you, you don’t gag that much around his cock anymore. He thrusts every now and then his hips, resting his dick in your mouth before he pulls out to give you a moment to breathe deeply.
     You look with such an innocent gaze at Lloyd that he feels like he has to come immediately. Your saliva drips down, landing on your thighs, while his whole cock is covered in it as well. Lloyd growls, fucking your mouth harshly, your tongue licking the underside of his cock, while you swallow his length down your throat — you’re the best and sweetest girl he could have imagined when you walked into his mansion earlier.
      He looks down at you, meeting your innocent eyes. You look adorable with his cock down your throat. “Taking my cock like the good girl you are for me, huh?”
     After a few more thrusts, he pushes out, and you look at him, confused. Maybe you did something wrong? “Did I do something wrong? Didn’t it feel good?”
   Suddenly, you just want to make him feel good; you want him to praise you — calling you his good girl, and give him what he is asking for.
     “You did so well for me, swallowing my cock like a good girl. But I wanna come all over your face — want to paint your face with my cum,” he tells you, smirking when you look even more confused. “Let Daddy take care of it."
     You nod, looking at his length, which is covered in your saliva when he wraps his hand around it. He then moves his hand at a steady pace, his hand wiping over his tip. It looks hot when he does that, panting and fucking his hand, his cock twitching, and he almost hits your face when he thrusts forward.
      His lips are parted, and the veins on his arm are poking out while he looks at you, groaning loudly. “Open your mouth and stick your tongue out!”
      You do as he says and stick out your tongue. He grins at you, jerking himself off over your tongue. With a loud growl and a harsh thrust into his hand, he comes all over your face. His cum shoots out of his red tip, landing on your tongue and all over your face, while he fucks himself through the orgasm.
     “Looking so sexy with my cum all over your pretty face, pretty girl,” he says, letting go of his cock and reaching out to graze his fingers with his cum. He then brings them to your mouth and pushes them between your lips. “Lick them clean.”
     You twirl your tongue around his fingers, cleaning his fingers and tasting his salty cum. You hum satisfied, addicted to his taste.
     “See, that wasn’t so bad, was it? I think you even enjoyed it,” he says, fingers still in your mouth, pushing your tongue down. He then removes them and grazes them in his cum once again, this time he licks then cleans himself, tongue curling around his digits. His other hand grasps your chin, his thumb pushing into your mouth and you immediately suck at it. “So good for Daddy, huh? I should give you a reward, don’t you think?”
     Your eyes widen and you nod, not exactly knowing what he means, but it doesn’t sound bad. And even though he can be a bit rough sometimes, he is still really nice and sweet with you.
     “Get up, so I can pick you up and we can continue in my bedroom,” he says softly, and you immediately obey. When you stand in front of him, he leans down, pressing his lips softly against yours before he picks you up. His hands rest underneath your ass, squeezing your cheeks while he walks out of the room.
     “B—But Ransom is waiting for me outside in the car,” you mumble, pulling away from Lloyd to look into his beautiful blue eyes. You haven’t recognized the bit of green in them, but it looks beautiful, and you get lost in them for a moment.
     Lloyd smirks. One of his hands lets go of you, but you hold yourself with your legs wrapped around his waist. He looks for his phone, which is placed on a small shelf. He takes it and unlocks it. Lloyd taps a few times on his phone before you hear the familiar sound when you call someone.
     “Princess?” Ransom's voice comes through the loudspeaker. You giggle, placing your head on his shoulder while you wrap your arms around his neck, inhaling his intoxicating scent.
     “Not exactly, but she is here. She is fine. Calm down. I will take care of my pretty girl, won’t I, little one?” Lloyd says, chuckling, before he squeezes your ass once again. You giggle, making Ransom gasp. “Brought me such a sweet and innocent girl; I guess I will keep her here. Make her my Mrs. Hansen.”
     Before Ransom can say something, Lloyd hangs up and places his phone on the nightstand next to his bed. You haven’t noticed that you’re already in his room, but you smirk when he places you on his bed, kissing your lips before he moves down to your neck. He is sucking and biting softly on your sensitive skin.
     “Now let’s get you out of your clothes and show Daddy your pretty body, all mine. Understand, you’re mine, pretty girl,” he says, looking at you. You pull him closer, pressing your lips against his, and let his tongue explore your mouth while his hands roam over your body, causing a tingling in your pussy. He grins, already thinking about the way he will claim you and make you his — his pretty girl.
     He really likes you, falling slowly for you — your sweetness and innocence steal his heart from him, and he gladly gives it to you. Even though he isn’t used to take care of someone he just fucked but he gladly takes care of his pretty girl.
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// Taglist //
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mionemymind · 2 days
Text
To Be Loved Is To Be Considered
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Summary: The moments that Wanda considered Y/n aka the moments her loved showed.
Warnings: Fluff, Established Relationship
A/n: I know y’all love angst but please give this fluff a chance too. GIF credits to @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo
Word Count: 1.3k
Masterlist
Love is not always about the sacrifices you do but rather the moments in life where you consider more than yourself. To be loved is to be considered. And this is how Wanda considered Y/n.
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On no particular evening, Y/n lay asleep on the living room couch after finishing her part of the shared chores. Wanda still had one more thing on her list when she noticed her girlfriend was sound asleep.
Tiptoeing closer, the red head saw the slight shiver on Y/n’s skin. Wanda clicked her tongue in disapproval and used her magic to get the blanket from the living room. Grabbing it from the air, she placed the blanket on top of Y/n and placed a small kiss on her forehead.
The music in the background was lowered to a small hum as Wanda continued with her chores, the last thing being on her list was to water the plants.
Taking her time, Wanda danced around their apartment as she watered the plants, even murmuring small affirmations to certain plants that were taking a while to grow.
And after 20 minutes, feeling satisfied with the clean apartment, Wanda slipped under the blanket and cuddled into her warm girlfriend. It didn’t take long for the red head to fall into a small slumber.
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Y/n has a certain lazy personality when it comes to her safety, something Wanda has always hated. But no matter how many times the red head will berate her girlfriend, Y/n never listens. In her head, as long as she gets back to Wanda, that’s all that matters.
So as Y/n sat in the long pre-mission briefing, Wanda had always checked Y/n’s suit for safety. Any time gadgets need an update, Wanda would be the first to put in the request. When she notices a hindrance in Y/n’s performance, Wanda could always tell why and how certain modifications can help.
Wanda paid attention to make sure that Y/n could focus solely on her job.During the times where they are partnered up, Wanda was always glad to double check over her work.
Y/n knew that when her suit always felt up to date, never without holes before a mission, and surprisingly clean, that Wanda must’ve done something.
So in turn, Y/n never failed to come back to Wanda.
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The warm dim vibe of the restaurant contrasted the loud activity that happened throughout. Wanda and Y/n sat closer to the bar, already dinning in.
It was date night, Wanda had been wanting to try a new spot in LA with great views and amazing food. “You made a great choice, babe.” Wanda smiled at Y/n’s praise.
“Should we get a couple of drinks?” As Y/n nodded in agreement, the waiter came with the food. “Here you go ladies.”
As he sat the food down, Y/n bit back the frown when she noticed the greens she specifically didn’t want mixed with her alfredo. Looking over Wanda’s food, Y/n smiled at how perfect it turned out.
“At least they got her’s right,” Y/n thought.
“Does everything look good?” The waiter asked, waiting for approval.
“Yeah everything-,” Wanda glanced at her girlfriend’s food with a disapproving look ready to say something but Y/n had interrupted her.
“Yeah, everything looks good. Thank you.” The waiter smiled and walked away. Once he was out of sight, Y/n sighed at her food.
“You should’ve let me say something dekta.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to argue with Wanda.
“I really don’t like complaining to them Wanda. Wait staff already have a lot on their hands.” Although Wanda knew they were both right, she was still unhappy to see Y/n unable to eat.
So as Y/n drank her water, Wanda switched their plates. Y/n almost disagreed, but the look on Wanda’s face silenced Y/n. “Now eat, let’s not waste a lovely date night now.”
Y/n smiled and took a bite of the steak, the juicy and flavorful feeling filled her mouth. As they continued the date, Y/n gave Wanda a couple pieces of steak as a small thank you.
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“Dekta, I’m home!” Wanda placed her keys in the bowl and walked into the kitchen, dropping the grocery bag on the counter.
“In here, babe!” Y/n yelled from the office. Once Wanda put away the groceries, her eyes finally set on the gift waiting for her at the kitchen table.
Walking to it, Wanda smiled at the bouquet of flowers wrapped in brown paper. In the middle, a note read ‘For my beautiful and lovely girlfriend, Wanda. Love, your dekta.’
She picked it up, enjoying the smell. Right beside it sat the Sokovian treats that she had mentioned craving the other day.
Already opening a pack, Wanda walked into the office, a gift in hand. Y/n was in the middle of playing video games, her back facing Wanda.
“Pause the game and close your eyes, dekta.” Y/n paused the game.
“Am I in trouble?” Wanda giggled as she placed the gift in Y/n’s lap, giving a small peck on her forehead.
“You’re not in trouble. But open them.” Y/n opened her eyes, mouth slack at the sight of a new gaming controller. The plastered smile on her face made Wanda smile even more.
“I hope you like the color.”
“Like it?!!” Y/n was flabbergasted by the gesture, immediately pulling Wanda in for a massive hug.
“Thank you so much, babe! I can game so much better with this.”
“Maybe then you can aim.” Y/n pouted at the slight jab from Wanda but still kissed her nonetheless.
“I’ll have you know, I blame the drift on my old controller.”
“Yeah, yeah. Give me another kiss so you can play your game.” Y/n pulled Wanda in for a deeper kiss, feeling happy for the unexpected gift.
As Wanda’s smile broke the kiss, she gave her girlfriend another peck on the lips and went back to the kitchen to grab her snacks. She ate them in their office as she watched her girlfriend still miserably lose in Overwatch.
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In their shared bed, Wanda sat in her spot, reading the new book assigned for the month. Laying beside her, Y/n watched a new show on Netflix, making sure to keep the volume low to not disturb Wanda.
“Babe, can you mess with my hair?” Before Wanda could utter yes, Y/n had already laid her head down on her lap, settling herself in a comfortable position.
Without a word, Wanda used her free hand and combed her fingers through Y/n’s hair. A soft groan escaped Y/n’s lips, as she said, “What page are you on?”
“Only in the second chapter, she’s being transported to a new place after killing the wolf.” Y/n hummed in response and continued to watch.
While Wanda combed through Y/n’s hair, she began to notice how her hand hadn't felt plastic frames. Realizing that her girlfriend had been unable to see the show this whole time, Wanda stopped her book. She briefly put it down to notice her girlfriend’s glasses were on the desk across the room.
Rolling her eyes, she continued to read as her magic floated the glasses right in front of Y/n. As if it was a silent command, Y/n put on her glasses, a small smile on her lips as she could finally see clearly.
Y/n placed a small kiss on Wanda’s thigh as a thank you. Together, the two continued to enjoy each other’s activities in the presence of each other.
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Love is not always grand. Love is mostly kind. Feeling considered is something the heart will forever crave. And Wanda will always consider Y/n.
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dragon-kazansky · 3 days
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Twelve - Beautiful day for a wedding
♡♡♡
The invitation arrived in your mail the very next day. You looked down at the writing of Violet Bridgerton on the letter. Daphne and Simon were to be married the very next day.
Your mother ushered you to the Modiste for a dress. You didn't have time for a new one, so she altered one you owned already. You bought a couple of new accessories and headed home.
You did not get to see the Bridgertons at all.
When you arrived at the church with your mother, you found yourself almost shocked at how few people were present, but you also supposed this was best.
On the duke's side were Lady Danbury and Will and his wife. On Daphne's was her family and you.
Benedict looked up just as you entered and smiled at you. He sat with Colin on a pew behind his mother. You smiled back and found your seat with Hyacinth and Gregory. Hyacinth made Gregory swap seats with her ao she could side beside you.
"Isn't this exciting?" She asks softly.
"Very," you smile.
"Daphne will look so beautiful in her dress," Hyacinth smiles.
"I'm certain of it."
You glance up to see Benedict still looking at you. When your eyes meet his, he turns away to talk to Colin again. You're confused by this strange little exchange, but don't dwell on it.
Violet spots you and waves at you with a smile. You return both gestures, and she turns back to Lady Danbury.
The duke stands quietly at the altar, awaiting his bride. As you look at him, you wonder what he must be thinking. From what you understand, this wasn't exactly ideal, but somehow you know, deep down in his heart, he loves Daphne.
He just needs to admit to himself.
His display to the queen, going by what Violet had said, was the most romantic declaration of love there could have ever been. You knew it had to have been true to some extent.
The sound of the door opening has everyone turning to look. You all rise when you see Anthony and the bride enter. You feel yourself gasp softly as you look at her.
Flawless.
Daphne looked beautiful. She was exactly what a bride should be on her special day. Anthony led her down the aisle. As she passed you, she gave you a small smile. She looked like she was putting on a brave face.
You smiled back and watched her pass.
Simon turns to look at his soon-to-wife. Even he couldn't deny how beautiful she is, surely.
Violet was trying so hard not to cry.
All of Daphne's family looked at her so proudly. This was the bottom she had been waiting for. The moment she would become a wife to the man she loved.
Though she had expected love to be true and pure like her parents had, for she knew the truth behind this wedding.
She practically forced Simon into it.
Anthony smiles at his sister and hands her over to Simon Bassett. The two stand beside each other while Anthony joins his mother at her pew.
You all sit.
The ceremony begins.
Hyacinth holds your hand as you watch the couple. You wonder what both of them are thinking.
They face each other. Simon holds out his hand. Daphne places her in it. He removes her long silk glove with ease. Her hand is now bare to him. He places the ring on her finger. Daphne remembers to breathe.
"I now pronounce you man and wife."
They're married.
♡♡♡
The ball after is full of life and cheer. Upbeat music plays on the violins. Though the wedding was an intimate affair, the ball was for all the ton.
Hyacinth and Gregory chase each other through the party while Daphne speaks to some of the guests.
Penelope tries to help Marina find someone other than Colin Bridgerton to marry. After all, Penelope had been in love with Colin for quite some time, though he was unlikely to view her the same way.
You laugh at something Anthony tells you on the other side of the room. Benedict comes over and looks between the two of you. "Is my brother that funny?"
"Quite, actually." You chuckle.
"At least one of us has charisma," Anthony says sipping his drink.
You laugh in the most unladylike manner and try to cover your mouth. Benedict looks at you in shock and in awe. Anthony smiles and shake his head.
"I never knew you could make such a sound," Benedict teases.
"Neither did I until now." You manage to control your laughter, ignoring anyone looking your way.
"A fascinating woman," he grins.
"I'm full of surprises. Even to myself," you smile.
Benedict looks at you curiously.
"Excuse me," Anthony says, nodding at you both and then taking his leave to catch up with someone.
You turn to Benedict only to catch him staring at someone.
"Benedict?"
"Excuse me..." He walks off but is soon cornered by the man he had seen. You sigh and decide to take a stroll of the room instead.
"A most enjoyable party," Henry Granville says to him.
"Indeed."
"Um, Bridgerton... Um... The other night..."
"What happened the other night?" Benedict asks, pretending he did not know. "I do not believe anything happened at all."
Henry chuckles softly. "Very well." A woman joins them, and Granville smiles. "Ah, dearest... I believe you know Mr. Bridgerton."
Benedict stares at the woman, recognising her from the other night. The pretty woman he enjoyed himself with.
"My wife, Mrs Lucy Granville."
Benedict chokes on his wine.
"It is a pleasure, Mr. Bridgerton." She smiles at him.
He just sips his wine and nods. "Mm."
You catch sight of Daphne staring at her husband, who stands across the room. You find this strange because you were made to believe that newly we'd couples rarely parted from each other on their wedding day. Yet, they were standing so far apart.
You were about to approach Daphne, but Anthony came up beside her. You decide to leave them both alone for now.
The conversation seems short, however, as you catch sight of Daphne fleeing the room moments later.
Violet goes after.
Wedding jitters, perhaps? Not that you would know. Would you ever know?
You find that you have circled the room completely and sigh. Benedict finds his way through the crowd and looks at you. "I apologise for that."
"Something urgent?"
"Well, not exactly. Just saw a face I knew."
"Wonderful. Where you know many faces, I know very few."
Benedict frowns. "Is something the matter?"
"Other than your family and Lady Danbury, I don't really know anyone else. Penelope seems lovely enough, but I do not know her all too well."
Benedict remains confused by you.
"Did something happen?" He asks.
"I have been all but abandoned."
"Nonsense."
You sigh. "Forgive me, I'm just tired. Weddings seem to go on for a while, don't they?"
"Can't say I've been to many."
"Do you think I'll get to experience this one day?" You ask, looking around. "Perhaps not as grand as this, but... you know."
Benedict now looks at you with slight surprise. "Of course, if that is what you want."
"I do want it." You confess quietly. "I'd like to be married one day. Not necessarily to a duke," you chuckle.
Benedict laughs, too.
"But I'd like to be a wife and a mother one day." You watch Hyacinth chase her brother around the guests.
Benedict keeps his gaze on you as he says, "one day it shall be yours."
You smile, keeping your eyes on the youngest two of the Bridgerton family.
Benedict does not drop his gaze from you.
♡♡♡
Violet insists you come them to bid Daphne goodbye as she leaves for her new home. You can only wonder how strange it must be for her to leave a place she calls home.
You stand at the back of the crowd as Daphne says goodbye to her siblings. She even hugs Eloise who looks a little reluctant for her sister to go.
Daphne then turns to you and pulls you into a hug. "Thank you," she whispers.
"What for?"
"Being there." She pulls away to look at you, placing her hands in yours softly.
You smile. "Any time. Write, won't you?"
"Of course. Regularly."
You both smile at each other, and Daphne turns around to climb into the carriage. Simon opens the door for her and climbs in after her. She looks out the window to look at her family and her, now, old home.
You wave along with the others, finding your arm looped with Anthony's as you watch the carriage disappear down the road. When it's gone from sight, Anthony escorts you back inside. Violet gushes about the entire day, and you smile as you go with her to fetch some tea.
With the guests gone, the family can relax. You had been invited to stay behind and keep them company for a while longer, and you agreed.
You sit with Violet and the family as tea is called. Anthony stays a while but then excuses himself. Violet makes a comment about him being unable to leave business even for one day.
A cup of tea is placed on the table beside you. You look up to see Benedict standing beside you with a smile.
You accept the cup and sip it. It's been made the way you like it. Benedict remembered something so mundane about you? Or was it perhaps just chance. You have taken tea with his mother before.
"My daughter, a duchess," Violet sighs happily.
"You must be very proud," you say, smiling.
"Immensly." She sips her tea.
"Daphne looked beautiful," Hyacinth says, smiling at you both from where she sits with Gregory.
"Yes," Violet smiles proudly.
You sip your tea and listen to small babble lf conversation about Daphne and where she will be living now, and what a duchess does. Hyacinth was full of questions.
Eloise slumped down in the seat beside you with a sigh.
"You alright?" You ask. She had a book held tightly to her chest.
"Just glad it's all over." She sighs again.
"Did you not enjoy seeing your sister marry?"
"It's not that. I'm very happy for Daphne and shall miss her tremendously. I'm just tired of all the fuss."
"Will it not be your turn next?" You ask.
"Please don't remind me," she screws her eyes shut and grimaces at the thought.
You chuckle softly and pat her arm gently. "You may change your mind."
"I cannot think of anything worse."
You say no more on the matter. After an hour passes, you take your leave. Your mother would be waiting at home for you. Violet calls for a carriage for you, one of their own. Benedict insists on seeing you out.
You walks down the front steps with him and approaches the carriage. The footman opens the door for you.
"Until next we meet," Benedict smiles at you.
You're about to enter the carriage when you stop and turn to him. "Where do you go at night?" You ask.
Benedict seems to freeze at your question. "Pardon?"
"At night, where do you go?"
His mouth hangs open as he tries to think about how to answer, but you keep talking before he can utter a single word.
"The other night when the duke and Lady Danbury came for dinner, you were not present. I asked Anthony about your whereabouts, but he confessed to not knowing. Not that I expect you all to know each others business all the time, but apparently, you have spent a couple nights away from home now. I am curious. Where do you go?"
Benedict really wasn't sure how to answer. Qould you think poorly of him if he told you the truth.
"Well I--"
"No, never mind. Do not tell me. It was rude of me to ask. I was just curious. Curiosity can be dangerous." You climb up into the carriage.
There's a moment of silence before the footman closes the door. Within seconds the carriage takes off towards your home.
Benedict is left standing there wishing he had said something, anything, to keep you longer.
He watches the carriage leave.
♡♡♡
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daydreaming-nerd · 2 days
Text
Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 11
Young Love and Old Money Masterlist
AN: Once again sorry this took a while! I'm about to graduate college (which I'm not happy about) and I've been packing and moving stuff home. Also guess who finished Iron Flame? ME! (Yes I know that i'm so late to the game. Graduation remember) but hey y'all drop your Xaden Riorson requests ;)
Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?
Warnings: mentions of injuries and infertility, smut, violence.
Word Count: 7,238
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The next 24 hours I was bedridden, not by my wishes, but my Madja’s and well, Cassian’s. For most of those hours I was asleep, in Cassian’s arms of course. Getting him to do anything but hold me was a miracle. Not that I was complaining, but when it came to matters of him needing to eat and such I was very adamant that he do so. 
Neither of us spoke much, both of us just wanting the peace of each other's company. When I would wake up I would tilt my head up from Cassian’s chest to see if he was awake or asleep. According to him I was a sleep magnet. 
He would ask me if I was cold or hungry, but mostly he asked how I was feeling, which thankfully was better. My body still aches from the bruises left on me. But since the bloodbane was now out of my system the scars from both of my stab wounds were healing nicely. 
I was lying on Cassian’s chest, enjoying his heartbeat when a timid knock sounded on the door. I lifted my aching body to turn and find my brother poking his head through the door, just like he used to when he would ask me if I wanted to sneak out for a midnight flight to the candy shop. 
“How are you feeling?” he asked, shutting the door behind him softly, like the sound would be too much for me to stand. 
“Much better, still sore and a little tired from the blood loss but at least I’m not near freezing now,” I smiled at him, Cassian rubbed my shoulder as if I needed that small ounce of warmth the friction provided. 
“That’s good,” Rhys said, putting his hands behind his back. “If you’re feeling up to it, I’d like to talk to you.”  
“Yes I just woke up so I’m feeling rested,” I say moving to sit up on the bed, my joints protesting. 
Cassian’s hands found their place under my arms to help lift me into position and then fluffed all my pillows so I would sit comfortably. When the Illyrian made no effort to get out of bed and leave the room, Rhys cleared his throat, getting his attention. 
“Yes?” Cassian cocked an eyebrow, clearly oblivious to what Rhys wanted. 
“Can I have a word with my sister alone?” Rhys asked. 
Cassian just rolled his eyes dramatically and moved to get out of bed. Before he left, he leaned over me and placed a kiss on my lips, one I greedily took as there was once a time I thought I would never taste him again. It wasn’t until my mate sauntered out and closed the door that Rhys spoke again. 
“That’s going to take some getting used to,” he laughed sitting at the side of my bed. 
“What is?” I ask, shifting in my seat to get more comfortable. 
“My little sister making out with my best friend,” he explained, nodding towards the door. 
“We did not make out,” I scoff, slapping him in the arm. 
“Any kind of kissing I see from the two of you might as well be fucking,” he laughed again, shying away from my hand. “Now enough of that, I wanted to apologize.” 
“Apologize? For what?” I furrow my brows, wondering what my saint of a brother could possibly have to apologize for. 
“For being a bad brother, for not being there for you after we escaped, for even suggesting you marry Eris,” he sighed, casting his head down like he couldn’t stand to look at me. “After we got back from under the mountain I started thinking about how I did everything wrong. How if father was still High Lord that never would’ve happened. That’s why I went looking through his things, and that’s how I found the contract. I thought that if I was more like him, I could keep us all safe. I could keep us from having to endure Hybern’s wrath like we did Amarantha’s. I spent too much time thinking about my own mate and my own trauma that I didn’t even stop to consider yours, and I’m so sorry.” 
“Rhys,” I breathe, feeling my heart break as I reach for his hand. “You aren’t a bad brother, you’re far from it. You’re the best big brother I could’ve ever asked for. I never gave you the option to be there for me after we got back, and I never made an effort to be there for you. We both messed up,” 
“Why didn’t you tell me about Eris? You know I would’ve stopped the whole thing right then and there if I knew he had hurt you like that.” He asks, gripping my hand tighter, his brows furrowing as he searches my weary face for an answer. 
“Because you sacrificed so much for me, Rhys. You sold yourself into slavery to keep me from the exact same fate. It’s a debt I never thought I’d be given the opportunity to repay.” I take a deep breath, letting the weight of my own words hit me. “You saved me, I owed you Rhys. I would’ve done anything to help you. I’m sorry that it didn’t work out, that we won’t have those armies anymore.” 
Rhys’ violet eyes glisten with tears as he takes in every word I say. There’s an overwhelming  guilt that fills the room. One that ebbs and flows from both of us. For the first time in 49 years I felt like I was truly seeing my brother again for the first time and what a lovely sight it was. 
“Don’t you dare apologize y/n,” Rhys says, scooting closer to me. “If you were still his wife and living in the Autumn Court, I would have burned the whole place down, given what I know now. Gods I nearly lost my mind when Azriel showed up here with you, and when Madja said you may never wake up? It was worse grief than when mother and father died. Because it would’ve been my fault. You would’ve died before I ever got the chance to make things right again and I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself.”  
“But we don’t have to worry about that anymore,”  I cry, holding both of his hands. “I’m here now.” 
“And you’re not going anywhere,” he assures me. “I can’t be High Lord of this court without my little sister.” 
My words get caught in my throat at his words and I decide to hell with them. I throw my arms around his neck for the first time in a long time. He plucks me from the bed, pulling me closer, like I might slip out of his grasp and be lost forever. Both of us blubber like babies, but I can’t help but smile as I’m engulfed in the scent of sea salt and citrus again. I had missed him so much. 
I hear the snapping of leather wings and then suddenly the light around me goes dark. I open my eyes to see Rhys' wings wrapping around me, cocooning me, just like he used to do when we were little kids. I can’t help but laugh and wipe away a tear as I take them in. 
“We haven’t done this since-” 
“Since father yelled at you for trying to sneak out to go on a date with the blacksmith's son,” Rhys said finishing my sentence. 
“That’s right!” I gasp remembering the young man with shaggy brown hair. “What was his name again?” 
“Arne, and he nearly soiled himself when father and I showed up to his doorstep and told him to stay away from you.” he chuckled. 
“I didn’t know you went too!” I gawk, eyes going wide. 
“Well of course I did, he didn’t deserve your affections,” Rhys smirked.
“All this time I blamed father but you were in on it! I hate you!” I laugh, slapping his chest. “He was handsome.” 
“Don’t let Cassian know that,”  Rhys teased and I couldn’t help but laugh at the image of Arne standing next to Cassian. Soil himself he certainly would in the presence of The Lord of Bloodshed. 
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“I promise you I’m fine. Madja said it would be good for me to start walking around more!” I protest at Cassian’s vice grip trying to keep me in bed. 
It had been two days since the conversion with my brother, one that had gone into the late hours of the night as we reminisced about the old days. The only reason the conversation ended was because Cassian barged in claiming he was tired and refused to sleep anywhere but with his mate. Rhys happily obliged him and promised he would eat lunch with me the following day, which he did. 
Now I was feeling much better, as my stab wounds were scarred but healed. My body still ached from the bruises all over me, both left there from Eris' hands when he took me by force, and from being dragged through the palace. But I was in desperate need of a bath, and a change of clothes. So I wasn’t taking Cassian’s pleas that I stay in bed another day.   
“Fine but let me help you at least,” he grumbles rounding the bed so he can take my  hands and help me stand. My legs shake under the weight of my own body but hold strong. The long sleeve shirt of Cassian’s covering my wobbling knees.  
“See I’m fine,” I laugh taking slow steps to the bathroom where the house has already prepared me a steaming hot bath. The smell of Jasmine bath salts wafts through the air further solidifying that I’m home, in Velaris, and everything is okay. 
I lift Cassian’s shirt over my head, discarding it on the floor and for the first time since I’ve been home I finally get a good look at myself. Except I’m not sure the person looking back at me in the mirror is me. Angry hand shaped bruises mar my hips and my forearms from where Eris gripped me. The hand print around my neck finally started to fade but it was still there. My knees and elbows were bruised from being dragged over stone floors and the scar on my side had finally healed to a faint pink. 
“Gods what did he do to you?” Cassian breathed from the doorway, breaking me out of my trance. I turn to meet his worried gaze as his eyes look up and down my body at the evidence of what Eris did. 
“You don’t want to know Cass,” I say, turning back to see myself in the mirror again. Cassian’s frame comes to stand beside me as he places a kiss on my bare shoulder. 
“If you ever need to talk about it I’ll be here. You don’t have to hide it from me just because you don’t think I want to hear.” he says, staring at me through the mirror. 
I turn in his arms to run a hand down his chest, “Can I ask you a favor? One you can absolutely say no to and I won’t be upset?” I ask him timidly. 
“You could ask me for the moon on a string and I would fly up there and get it for you my love. Anything you want and it’s yours,” he smiles, brushing his knuckles against my face. 
“Will you teach me how to fight?  I’ve been thinking about what happened with Eris, and how helpless I felt. How I knew that all I could do was lie down and take it. I don’t have powers like Rhys, or even wings like you and Azriel to take me away.  I don’t ever want to feel that way again, I never want to feel helpless.” I admit staring at his bare chest, unable to meet his gaze.
His hand finds my chin and lifts it to meet his eyes, in them, so much love. Pain for what I’ve gone through, but pride for how I’ve chosen to handle it. I could feel every emotion down the bond that I thanked the mother for every day. 
“You will never have to feel helpless again y/n. I’ll kill anyone who dares to harm you and I won’t feel a lick of remorse for doing so. But I would be honored to train you,” he smiles, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “You’re going to bring me to my knees in Illyrian fighting leathers,” he laughs. 
I giggle at his comment and smack him on the chest, before waltzing over to the bathtub and getting in. The warm water washing over me practically has me falling apart as I let out an appreciative hum. I close my eyes and lean my head against the edge of the tub already feeling the invisible dirt and grime being lifted off of my skin. It’s like being reborn. 
When I don’t feel another body I open one eye to see Cassian standing next to me arranging towels and clothes for when I get done. I can’t help but smile at the overbearing mother hen he’s been the last couple of days. If I told anyone that The Lord of Bloodshed was fluffing towels and laying out outfits I’m sure none would believe me. 
“Are you going to get in general?” I ask, nodding to the space before me. The bathtub isn’t as big as his, but it’ll do.
“If you’re asking me to get in and just sit with you, yes. But if you’re hoping for anything more the answer is no. You’re not fully healed yet and I don’t want to hurt you,” he says firmly, setting the towels down. 
“But Cass I’m fine-” 
“No you’re not, the wound on your stomach is still healing,” he states and I know he’s right. 
“Fine, get in you Illyrian baby,” I say moving my legs to make room for him. 
He rolls his eyes at my comment but drops his pants. The moment he does I instantly curse myself  for allowing my eyes to ogle him. Then I curse him and his stupid temporary sex ban. It had been well before the wedding since he and I had been intimate that way and I wanted so badly to touch him. To solidify the fact that he was purely mine.  Even as he looked disorientated as hell trying to find a way for his wings to fit in the smaller tub, he was handsome.    
“Here,” I laugh, moving over to sit in his lap so that he can extend his legs and move more. “There now we both fit.” 
“As soon as you're well I’m flying you back to The House of Wind and we’re taking a proper bath,” he laughs, pressing a kiss to my nose. 
“I’ll hold you to that general,” I smile leaning in to kiss him. 
Just like the first time we bathed together he takes the time to gently wash all of me. The way his large hands massage my scalp as he washes my hair has my eyes fluttering shut, as do his soft touches as he washed my body.  The smell of my jasmine and amber soap filling my nose and making me feel like myself again. His hand lingers over the nail shaped scar across my stomach and his eyes zero in there. As if there’s something on the tip of his tongue. 
“There’s something I need to tell you, something that I’ve been avoiding.” he says, not taking his eyes off the scar. “I wanted to wait until you were completely healed but I think you should know now.”
Anxiety starts to build inside of me. I thought that after the wedding he had stopped keeping secrets. Whatever this was, it was big. Big enough for his eyes to start glazing over as they stayed riveted  on my stomach. 
“What is it?” I say quietly when he doesn’t speak up. 
“Madja was able to heal most of you but there were things even her magic couldn’t fix. She says that the wound to your womb was severe, that it hit an area she couldn’t heal. Because of it, you may never be able to have children,” he says solemnly, finally taking his eyes off my scar to look at me. His eyes were full of worry, as tears welled up in them. 
My world stopped as I took in what he said. I knew the reason Eris wounded me was to ensure I wouldn't have his child, but it had never occurred to me that it would prevent me from having any children. Prevent me from having Cassian’s children. 
A wave of grief washes over me for what could’ve been, and then it’s followed by guilt. Cassian had already sacrificed so much for me, for us, for this court. And now I couldn’t give him the one thing the fae prayed and begged the Mother for, a child. I had been a terrible mate all these months. Not knowing about the bond, marrying another male, letting that male put his hands on me. All things I could never atone for. 
What god did Cassian offend to end up cursed with me as his mate?
“There’s still time,” I breathed, eyes cast down to where he held my hands just above the water. 
“Time for what my love?” the general’s eyebrows furrowed at my anomalous response. 
“For you to reject the bond. We haven’t truly accepted it yet and I understand if this isn’t what you want anymore. I know how badly you wanted children and if I can’t-” 
“No,” he answered resolutely, pulling me closer to him pressing his forehead against mine. “This changes nothing. I don’t need children to be happy,  I just need you.”
“Then maybe you can seek out a surrogate and then-” I ramble but he cuts me off again.
“Don’t even finish that sentence. I would rather die than lie with another woman,” he said with a strong tone. “A life with you…That is what I want more than anything. More than children, more than armies.  I have loved you for so long and now you are mine, and I am yours. Anything else is inconsequential.” 
He pauses and leans over the edge of the bathtub grabbing his pants. I can’t help but furrow my brows as he fishes around in one of his pockets until he pulls out something small that I can’t see and holds it tightly in his hand. 
“I made up my mind from the moment you asked me to kiss you all those weeks ago that you would be mine until the end of all days. If you recall, I even told you so.” he starts.
“Now I’m never letting you go”
The words replay in my head as he opens his hand revealing a brass ring. The thing looked so small in his large hand. It was beaten and weathered. No doubt having seen years of life and love. 
“This was my mothers,” he states, holding up the ring. “It’s the only thing I have left of hers, given to me by someone in her village who managed to save it. As you know I’m a bastard, so it’s not a wedding ring. But I remember her wearing it  all the time.” his lips tug up in a small smile as if remembering his mother. 
There is a sadness in his eyes as he stares down at the little ring. But as I see the wheels in his head churning, recalling his mothers face, his eyes lighten and he continues. 
“I always knew that I would give it to my mate, if the cauldron ever blessed me with one. I never once thought I would be mated to the princess. It feels stupid asking you to marry me with this, but I didn’t carry this thing around all these years for nothing.” he chuckles looking into my eyes. “Y/n I love you. I always have. I don’t just want you as my best friend or my partner or even just as my mate. I want you as my wife. I know this ring isn’t befitting of a princess or The Jewel of Prythian, but will you marry me?”  
I can’t help but let out a small laugh and press a kiss to his cheek, “Of course I will Cass, how could you ever think I would say no?”
“I just had to ask,” he chuckles into my lips. 
I look down to see him sliding the circlet of brass around my left ring finger and to my surprise it fits like a glove. As if it was destined to sit there for the rest of its days. 
“We can get you another one, something more befitting of a princess.” he smiles, pressing a kiss to the band. 
“No, I don't want another one. I want this one.” I assure him laying my front down on his chest. 
“Whatever makes you happy  my love,” he hums, running a hand through my wet hair. 
We lay in the newly engaged bliss for a long time. Until the bathwater runs cold and our fingers and toes wrinkle. But it isn’t long enough, we could’ve spent hours more in that bath and it still wouldn’t be enough. No amount of time ever would be. 
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The next day I woke up to Cassian’s side of the bed cold. No doubt he had finally started training again, something I’m sure Azriel had been pestering him about. Ever since I had gotten back he hadn’t left my side once, and that included training. I joked with him that he was going to lose his rippling abs but he always laughed it off and said I was more important. I wasn’t upset that he had gone to training, if anything it made me feel lighter. It made me feel like things were going back to normal. 
I was sitting in the library reading when he finally waltzed in, covered in sweat with his hair tied at the nape of his neck. The sight had me wondering when his little sex ban would end.
“How was training?” I ask setting down the book I was reading and stand to greet him. 
“Az kicked my ass, apparently a couple days out officially puts me out of practice,” he smiles, bending down to kiss me.
“You’re stinky,” I laughed, twisting my face at him. 
“You like it and you know it,” he teases, grabbing me by the waist to plant another kiss on my lips. 
I cursed at the feral part of me that liked seeing him sweaty and dirty, “Yeah, yeah, yeah so maybe I like it,” I smiled, pulling him down by the nape of the neck for another kiss. 
His hands pulled my waist so I was closer to him and my arms naturally looped around his neck. I was consumed by the feeling of him. His strong arms around me, his lips all over mine, his scent at its purest form. It was enough to drive me absolutely mad. I pulled him in closer with a groan as I parted my mouth for him.
“Ah ah ah,” he tutted, breaking the kiss. “You’re not healed yet.”
“Ugh Cass!” I bemoan throwing my head back in a mini tantrum. 
“You’re still a little sore, I can see it when you walk,” he laughs, kissing my temple. “Just a few more days my love.” 
“If you don’t want me anymore you can just say it,” I tease, turning my head to the side so that I’m staring at the wall. 
His hand finds my chin and turns it so I’m facing him again. I make sure to don my most irritated face, one that makes his lips turn up in a smirk. I wish I could kiss it right off his face.
“Oh believe me baby I want you plenty,” he smirks. “In a perfect world I would fuck you over the arm of that couch until the only word that you know how to say is my name.” 
My breath hitches and my toes curl at the image of him taking me that way. I knew he meant every word. Words I would hold him to once I was finished. I wanted him in every way  possible. The kitchen floor, the bathroom counter, the dining room table. Anywhere he would take me. 
As if he can scent my arousal he leans in to place a sweet kiss upon my lips. But when I close my eyes I fall into dead air. I open my eyes to see him staring off into the distance,  a concerned look on his face. 
“What? What is it?” I ask knowing that something is going wrong. 
“Eris is here,” he says assuredly and I realize that my brother had been contacting him via daemati. 
Cassian drops his hands from my waist and walks towards the doorway, picking up the swords he discarded against the wall. A male with a clear goal in sight.
“Wait, I want to come too!” I shout at him, following him down the hall.
He stops in his tracks turning to meet my gaze, “Absolutely not, I don’t want him anywhere near you.” he fusses strapping his swords and daggers in tightly. 
“Cass please I’m not afraid of him. This obviously concerns me, I want to be there,” I plead with him. 
Cassian’s jaw twinges and he looks out the window to my right, as if he is contemplating what he wants to do. Things that might happen, things that could go wrong. I see his eyes dart around slightly as if he’s watching all possible outcomes.
“Fine,” he states, though I can tell it’s not truly what he wants. “But you have to know that if he even comes close to you I will fucking kill him y/n. I will slit his fucking throat right then and there. Can you live with that?” he asks me in earnest. 
“Yes,” I nod. 
In reality my answer is no. The last thing I need is for a war between Night and Autumn just because Cassian killed their heir. I hated the male just as much as Cassian did, maybe even more, but I wouldn’t allow this to happen, which might be the real reason I wanted to attend. 
The flight to the house in The Court of Nightmares was short. One Cassian had clearly flown a thousand times. Growing up I was never allowed to go there, my father claiming it was too dangerous for me. One night curiosity got the best of me and I asked Rhys to take me and he declined. It was at that moment I lost all desire to set foot in the city. 
As Cassian and I stepped foot into my family's house there I couldn’t help but shudder. No wonder I had never been allowed here. It was all wrong, nothing like Velaris. Suddenly all the stories other courts whispered about the Night Court added up. 
When we arrived at the throne room we entered through the back. Standing by Rhysand who was sitting atop the throne he had been born to inherit. Eris is standing before him just a few yards away.  Both of them clearly lost in a heated discussion.  
We stood aside Rhys, Cassian’s arm wrapping protectively around me as his other hand hovered over the hilt of his sword. Eris’ eyes flickered over to me, then to Cassain and then back to Rhys.
“You hold no claim over my sister, not after what you’ve done. You’re lucky I haven’t melted your mind where you stand,”  Rhysand’s voice boomed.
It was the first thing I heard when I walked in, and it made a chill run down my spine. I had never heard my brother this way. I knew Rhys often put on a front for other courts but I had  never seen it. As if he was too afraid to show it to me.
“She’s my fucking wife. You can’t keep my wife from me Rhysand; it goes against the laws of every court in Prythian.” Eris growls back. “Come on pet it’s time to return home.” he says, holding a hand out to me.  Had he forgotten the events that led me here in the first place?
I step closer into Cassain’s frame, my hand curling into one of the straps on his fighting leathers. As if he can sense my fear, his body tenses and he pulls me tighter to him.
“Take one more fucking step towards her Eris and I will spill your guts on this floor,” Cassian growls and even I’m scared of the tone he uses. Unlike the Autumn Court, Cassian has the upper hand here, and I’m deeply terrified he will use it.  While he may be The Lord of Bloodshed, Eris is the son of a High Lord.
“She is my wife, and I hold full authority over her,” Eris seethes, the fire in his eyes returning. 
“You hold no claim over me,” I said. “You never did. By the laws of your court our marriage is null and void. Now I belong to my mate, who loves me.” 
“You once told me you loved me,” Eris says smugly. 
My mind races back to our wedding night. I swore I would never let him hear the words pass my lips. But the pain, it was too much. He told me he would stop if I would just say those three little words, and in a moment of desperation I caved to his wishes. My body too worse for wear to take much more.
Cassian’s body twinges next to me clearly taken back by Eris’ words.
“That’s because you beat me into submission until I did. That’s not love. I gave Cassian my love freely, before he ever touched me. Before I knew he was my mate.” I say firmly, my gaze unyielding at the Autumn Court heir. 
Eris simply rolled his eyes, “To hell with the laws of my court, I had it written today that impure females can still wed noblemen. I want The Jewel and I shall have her,” he smirks looking me up and down. 
Before I can even retort, Rhysand speaks up, “and I had it written the moment she was found that in my court, mates can’t be separated without consent,” my brother says smoothly. “Sister, would you like to go with Eris?” he asked me.  
“No I would not,” I say firmly. “You wouldn’t benefit much from me anyways. The healers say I may never bear children now.” 
“What a shame, now you’re just spoiled fucking goods,” Eris lips twist in a self satisfied sneer. “At least one good thing came out of that nail to your womb. You won’t be making any bastard children.” 
Before I can even start to bring him down to earth Cassian is launching himself at Eris. A frenzy of swords, flame and raw power from Cassian’s siphons barrel around the room. I can’t help but gawk and run to my brother's side as Cassian unleashes his fury upon Eris. Most of Eris’ moves are on the defense, as Cassian never lets him have a moment to strike.
“Rhys stop this!” I say clutching my brother's arm. 
Rhys simply smirks, crossing an ankle over his knee clearly amused, “No I’m actually enjoying this,” he smirks leaning into the arm of the throne as the sounds of metal on metal ring through the room. 
I look up to see Cassian hovering over Eris, a sword held to his throat as Eris uses every ounce of power he has to keep the general from piercing his throat.
“Did I get under your skin, dog?” Eris taunts, trying to catch Cassian off guard enough that he can get the upper hand. “Did I tell you how she screamed as I took her?” he grins. 
Cassian falters just long enough for Eris to get out from underneath him. Eris’ hands are ablaze as he tries to burn through Cassain’s leathers, but the general has him on his back before he gets the chance. His hazel eyes ravenous as he lifts a sword to cleave Eris’ head. I realize that this is truly the Lord of Bloodshed standing before me, and now I know why he had been given the title.
“Rhys!” I cry out hoping he can end the carnage. 
“Fine, fine,” he assures me standing from his seat. “ENOUGH!” the High Lord bellows, his power pulling the fighting males apart. “My word is final. Eris, go home while I’ll still allow it.” Rhys finishes sitting back in his chair with a swagger I wish I could recreate for myself. 
Cassain comes running over to me, not a scratch on him as Eris limps out the doors behind him.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I fuss surveying the burn marks in his leathers from Eris’ hands. Thankfully none of them burnt all the way through. 
“I’m fine baby,” he beams down at me, trying to mask the anger he feels for letting Eris walk out of here alive. 
“By the mother can the both of you get a room?” Rhys chastised, standing from the throne. 
“You’re going to have to get used to it brother,” Cassian laughs, wrapping his arms around me.
“Yeah, yeah,” Rhys dismisses us. “Go home, both of you, before I lose my lunch,” he jokes, stepping down from the dais, moving towards the door Cassian and I entered through. 
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Cassian and I enter his room, this time at the House of Wind. Both of us had decided that Rhys needed to learn to take the new dynamic in doses. The Illyrian rid himself of his leathers, his body practically vibrating with anger, desire, sadness? I couldn’t quite tell.
“Cass, are you okay?” I ask laying a hand on his now bare shoulder. My voice is small and timid worrying what I might awaken in him. 
“Yes my love I’m fine,” he says, taking my hand and pressing a kiss to my open palm. “Just left over adrenaline inside of me, that’s all.”
My thoughts wander to the sight of him nearly taking Eris’ life. In the moment I was scared he would get hurt, but looking back now? I hated to admit how it made my heart race and my thighs clench. I had never needed him more than I did now. 
“I can think of a few ways to dispel that adrenaline,” I smirk, leaning in to kiss him but he stops me.
“No stop, I won’t hurt you y/n,” he groans, pushing me away. 
I felt something in me snap, something breaking. “Cassian please,” I beg and his eyes meet mine. “Please, I'm begging you to touch me. I am whole, I am well. I just want my mate. I can’t bear it any longer.” I plead with him, tears welling in my eyes.
He moves swiftly, his frame towering over me as he comusnes my mouth as if he’s consuming my soul. I feel the need in him sink into my very skin as he takes me in his arms. I nearly whimper at the way he kisses me so thoroughly. 
“If I hurt you, tell me right away. Okay?” he says between kisses, his hands roaming up and down my sides. 
I can only nod my head in agreement before his lips are on mine again. Every  touch of his hands on my body is so all consuming, yet never enough. The male could be melded to my skin and it still wouldn’t be enough. 
I feel my thighs hit the back of a rogue desk and suddenly I’m being hauled up until my bum sits on the cold surface. My hands wander up and down Cassian’s chest, committing every muscle to memory once more. His own hands wander around my back until I hear a deafening rip ricochet off the walls. My dress being torn in half and discarded on the floor. 
“Cassian,” I breathed as the cold air hit the bare skin of my breasts. 
I  was happy to see that his little sex ban had affected him as much as it did me. His hands and mouth were feral on me, no doubt from the adrenaline. His hand tugged my head back by my hair giving himself full access to my neck. The open mouthed kisses he left all over me drove me wild. But I didn’t stop the general on his mission to worship every part of me. 
His lips wandered over every ghost of a bruise Eris had left on me.
“You are loved, you are safe, you are mine,” he whispered before consuming my mouth once more.
My hands flew to the leathers of his pants, ripping them open seamlessly. His cock sprung free, hard and ready for me. But once again he stopped me.
“I mean it princess. You feel pain at any time and we’re done.” he says pressing his forehead to mine. 
“Shut up and fuck me general,” I grit bucking my core towards him. 
“Is that an order princess?” He teased, kissing my temple. 
“Yes it is,” I groan. “If you don’t I’ll throw you in the dungeons.” I tease running my hands down his chest. 
“Well then, as my princess commands.” He smirks, sinking himself into me. 
If he didn’t have me seated on his desk my knees would’ve buckled. The feeling of him inside me was so overwhelming, so amazing. I found myself crying out in pleasure from the fullness.
“Good girl,” he smiles before thrusting in once more. 
My eyes already see stars as he sets a steady pace. One not nearly as hard as he did at the ball, clearly not wanting to hurt me. Nonetheless, the pace he set felt amazing. 
“Oh Cass,” I moaned,  my nails raking across his back. 
“Did I tell you how I missed this?” he groaned, thrusting into me deeper. “How badly I missed being inside you?” 
His words had me going limp in his arms. My mouth leaving sweet kisses on his neck to encourage him to keep fucking me. I run my hands all over his body, wanting to feel all of him. This man, this glorious, brave and strong man was my mate. For the first time since realizing it, it had begun to truly sink in. This was our first time together now that both of us knew, and I could practically feel the bond between us screaming to be consummated. 
“Mine,” I breathed into his ear as he hit me particularly deep. “My mate.”
His hand came back to cup the base of my neck so that I was craning up to meet his stare. The fanning of his breath on my cheek as he fucked me languidly. 
“All yours baby, forever.” he smirked, leaning down to kiss me. 
Large hands cupped my bottom and I felt myself being carried towards the bed. He set me down in a way that made it so he never had to pull out of me, and I was thankful for the gesture. I didn’t want to be separated from him for a single moment. 
He resumed his relaxed place, one that had me feeling every inch of him. There would be time for fucking in the future, but for now I just wanted him to make love to me, and by the cauldron did he.
I felt my legs start to shake and tremble as he continuously hit the part of me that always had me falling apart. My hands threaded through his hair as I heard his moans and grunts in my ear, only making my stomach flutter even more. The damn inside of me getting ready to burst. 
“Cass I’m going to,” I shudder, raking my hands down his back, an action that spurs him on. 
“I’m close too y/n, just hold on for me,” he grunts fucking into me harder.
In my efforts to hold off on my release in order to wait for him I feel myself clench around his length, his hips stuttering as he tries to keep his pace.
“Oh shit baby you keep doing that I’m gonna-” 
“Cass please,” I cry, nearly arching my back so I can feel more of his skin on mine.
“Fuck, cum with me,” Cassian groans.
The ragged deepness of his voice has me seeing stars as my own release washes over me. He continues rutting into me as he buries his head in my neck, breathing in my scent. Both of us are panting as I run my hands through his hair some more, calming us both down. 
“My beautiful, smart, amazing, sexy mate,” he says, kissing my neck with each phrase.
He rolls over so he doesn’t crush me under his weight, and his arms pull me up to rest on his chest like always. The skin under my cheek is covered in a thin sheen of sweat as I hear his heartbeat beginning to calm down. I can’t stop myself from propping my chin up on his chest and placing sweet kisses all over him. From his abs to his chest, to his shoulders, and his neck.
“If this is us now how bad are we going to be after we accept the bond?” Cassian chuckles, pushing my hair out of my face so that he can see me. 
“I don’t know, but I don’t want to wait any longer to accept it,” I say, pressing a kiss to the center of his chest. “Not after today, with Eris. Who knows what kind of crazy strings he would pull to take me back and have me be his lap pet. If we’re officially mated Rhys’ laws will hold true.”
“Trust me, Eris would sooner have his head on a pike than have his hands on you again,” Cassian laughs lightly. 
“I’d rather not have it come to that. If you were on the other end of Beron’s wrath for killing his heir we couldn’t do this as often,” I smirk, placing a kiss on his neck. 
“You have me there princess,” Cassian laughs, pulling my bare body impossibly closer to his. 
“By the end of the week?” I ask boldly.
“What?” he says, caught off guard. 
“I want to be mated by the end of the week, I want to call you my husband,” I smile, bringing my left hand with the engagement ring up to cup his face. “Unless you think it’s too soon?” I ask worried I might be pushing him too far.
“Too soon? I’ve been wanting to make you my wife for over 50 years y/n. I’d marry you right now if you wanted me to,” he rambles and I can’t help but giggle. 
“While I love the sound of that I would like a dress, and maybe a ring for you as well.” I say brushing a hair out of his face. 
“I suppose I’ve waited this long,” he laughs, pulling me over so I’m lying directly on top of his chest. “By the end of the week it is.” he beams, sealing the promise with a kiss.
Hey I’ve been having some problems with tagging so lmk if you get this or if you saw it but didn’t get the notif!!
Taglist: @crystalferret202 , @nickishadow139 ,  @graceshifts , @writeroutoftime , @heyyitsnat21 ,  @stinkinstuffie , @lilah-asteria , @12358 , @fxckmiup , @daughterofthemoons-stuff , @mybestfriendmademe , @anxious-study , @bxm-1012 , @mal-adaptive-dreams ,  @sh4nn , @talesofadragon , @5onedirection5 , @saltedcoffeescotch , @flourelle 
Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always  
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acewritesfics · 3 days
Text
Sweetheart | Tommy Shelby 
Pairing: Tommy Shelby x wife!reader
Request: No
Warnings: The word whore being used a few times. A threat made.
Word Count: 640
Tommy Shelby Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Tommy enters his office and is taken aback to see his wife seated behind his desk, wearing a displeased look on her face. He lights his 6th cigarette for the day and moves to stand near the windows, knowing that whatever is about to unfold cannot be good. Her eyes follow his every move as she remains quiet waiting for him to speak first.
"I suppose I should ask if everything is well, but I have a feeling it would only anger you further," he says, observing her as she stares at him. "So why don't you tell me what I've done wrong so we can sort it out?" 
She continues to scowl at him, saying, "I know you are willing to do anything to get what you want, I just never thought I would have to witness it." 
His expression remains stoic, revealing nothing about what he's thinking or feeling. 
"Imagine now my amazement when I saw every man's favorite whore with her hands all over my husband only to see him do nothing about it. He seemed to be encouraging it." 
Tommy could see the sadness and the hurt in her eyes. He didn't miss the way her voice became strained at the end. It hurt his heart to know that it was his own foolish impulsive acts that caused her feel this way. But he could see she wasn't done talking. He remains silent, knowing that trying to apologise before she finishs would only make matters worse. 
"But instead of simply confronting you, I went and confronted her," she confesses. 
Tommy struggles to conceal his smirk. Y/N's headstrong personality causes her to protect what belongs to her and causes her to make sure people knew where she stands and where they stood. If he could be possessive over her, than so can she when it comes to him. Tommy was hers - him being the father to her three children, her husband and the love of her life - and she wasn't about to let anyone forget it. It's one of the many things Tommy loves about her. 
"Don't worry, she said you merely used her for information. That you flirted a little, got her hopes up, and that was the end of it," Her eyes never leave his while a smirk appears on her lips. She trusted him not to go any farther than flirting. It was the whores she was wary about. Her lover before Tommy was always persuaded by them . When they first started their relationship, she made it clear to Tommy that adultery would not be tolerated. 
"And what did you tell her?" Tommy enquired, slightly amused by her possessiveness. Y/N didn't typically take such action, but he admires that she was willing to confront anyone who threatened their family and marriage, even if it was against a lady of the night. 
"I told her, if she touches you with her filthy little hands again, I'll cut 'em off," she confidently tells him. 
"Sweetheart," he said not bothering to hide the small smirk that's forming, his head shaking side to side. "After all these years, you still surprise me with your words." 
"How else are those whores meant to know I won't tolerate them trying to seduce you?" She wonders aloud as he rounds the desk, standing in front of her. 
He pulls her up from the chair, lifting her to sit on his desk as he stands between her legs. "What if I need information from them? I can't have them scared of me." 
"Then you get someone else to do your dirty work," she tells him. "Preferably someone who isn't married." 
He smiles and kisses her, knowing she's no longer angry at him. "I love you." 
"I love you too," she replies pulling him closer to kiss him again. 
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jgracie · 1 day
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⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ FADE INTO YOU
↳ the chronicles of jj & smartiepants!
(american)footballer!jason grace x fem!reader
masterlist | rules
on the radio . . . fade into you (mazzy star)
an heavily inspired by the scene in miraculous ladybug w the umbrella... u know the one! also for a bit of context this is jj & smartiepants’ first time talking and she’s new to the school
of course it had to rain on the one day you didn’t bring an umbrella to school with you
for the past week, you’d brought one, thinking it was going to rain. every day was dark and gloomy so you were certain it’d have to rain eventually. however, it never did
today, on friday, you decided not to bring your umbrella to school. it wasn’t as cloudy in the morning, and besides, why would it rain now when it hadn’t on all those other days? as the school day progressed, the clouds built up in the sky and by the time your last class ended, it was pouring
you sighed as you made your way to your locker, hoping that maybe you’d kept a hoodie or something that would shield you from the rain. unfortunately, all you found were papers. there was no one to pick you up from school either, so you were just going to have to walk home and pray you don’t end up with a cold
now, you stood under the shelter of your school building. one step is all it would take for you to be drenched. considering checking your bag one last time in case maybe, just maybe, you had brought your umbrella to school, you watched as people ran to their cars or walked under the shade of their own umbrellas. it seems everyone had predicted this but you
just as you were about to begin your uncomfortable walk home, you heard a voice behind you say, “i knew it would rain today.” turning around, you found yourself facing none other than jason grace - or as you’d heard many others call him, jj. you had a couple classes with him, but this was your first time actually talking to the guy.
he’d intimidated you a little, but your newfound friend reyna explained that he was actually really sweet and ever since that day you’d become intrigued. you started paying more attention to him and noticed how he’d always treat the freshmen with kindness (despite how annoying they could be at times) and how no matter how frustrating his teammates were, not once did he lash out. you wouldn’t say you had a crush, but he definitely interested you
giving him a small smile, you replied, “yeah? well, i didn’t. i thought it’d rain every day of this week and the one time it does i don’t bring my umbrella.” he was standing next to you now, and his brows furrowed at your words
“my sister’s the same, she’s never been able to predict the weather either,” he said. you didn’t know he had a sister - he struck you for an only child. since you hadn’t heard of a second grace at your school, you assumed she didn’t go. still, you chose not to pry. from the soft tone of his voice you could tell this was a sensitive topic
a silence draped itself over you. everyone had gone home now, so the only noise heard was the pitter-patter of the rain as it fell to the ground (and maybe your heart as you fell for him?)
after about a minute, jason cleared his throat, “well, do you have a ride home? i assumed you were waiting for someone but…” you shook your head no, telling him you were going to just walk in the midst of the rain and hope for the best
“where do you live? i’ll walk you. we can share my umbrella - don’t even think about saying no, i insist. can’t let you catch a cold.”
that was that. you told him where you lived (he apparently lived nearby so there wasn’t much issue with dropping you off) and as you walked, you made small talk, discovering more about each other. jason told you about how he’d gotten the scar on his lip and you told him about your life in new york and your old school before moving to california
jason looked up at the sky - you noticed he did that a lot - and smiled, saying, “i really like the rain. it’s stupid, but my mom would say that rainy or stormy weather was a sign my father was keeping an eye on me. looking back on it, i think she just said that cause she was sick of having to wake up in the middle of the night and spend an hour putting me back to bed, but it’s still comforting.”
he had a solemn look on his face as he said this, and you put all the power you could muster into your voice as you replied, “it’s not stupid, jason.” maybe it was the light playing tricks, but you could’ve sworn you saw him blush when you used his name
after thanking jason profusely and promising you’ll pay him back someday, you ran into your home and to the solace of your bed. meanwhile, jason turned, heading the opposite way
the walk home would take double the time now, but he didn’t care
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midnightsxblue · 2 days
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BIRTHDAY
carl grimes x reader
tags: fluff fluff fluff
masterlist here! (i fixed it btw)
send some more requests!!!
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You could never keep a secret from Carl, no matter how serious or how stupid he could always manage to get it out of you. All he had to do was ask repeatedly or when you got really stubborn he’d tickle it out of you. He’s just that kind of guy, he likes to know everything going on in that brain of yours. But more importantly he hates secrets.
That’s why when his birthday rolled around you had no idea what to get him or how you would even keep it from him. You’d done the classic comic gift maybe two times before already. Last year you had gotten him a vinyl for his record player and he was happy with it.
Carl didn’t care for gifts at all, he believed your presence was enough but gifts sort of just gave him something to enjoy with you. Every time you’d gotten him a comic, you read it with him. When you got him that vinyl, he listened to it with you. He was happy, so you knew whatever you got him this year was something you should enjoy too.
You decided to go out to scavenge with Glenn to see if you could find anything. You went out to a shopping center nearby and looked around there. You thought maybe you could get him a new flannel but you weren’t sure if he’d like it. You found a red flannel and realized he’d hate it.
“Hey, is this ugly?” You asked Glenn who was also digging through racks to find something for Maggie since her birthday was coming soon too. He looked over and cringed at the sight of it. “Yeah that’s- that’s pretty bad..” He looked back to the racks to dig through. “Fair.”
You were so stumped, what could he possibly want? You walk through the store some more, looking around the aisles when you hear something behind you. A small meow. You stop in your tracks and just pause. You loved cats probably as much as you loved Carl. You turn around and look to the floor to be met with the cutest little siamese kitten.
You crouch to the floor and let him walk to you. You melt at how adorable he is before gently picking him up. You need to show Glenn. When you find Glenn, his eyes are locked on the racks of clothes still. “Glenn.” You try to get his attention but his eyes wouldn’t pry away. You stick the cat out in his direction. “Glenn look.” He rolls his eyes and turns to you to be face to face with a cat and he almost jumps a little.
“Oh- jesus christ. Where…” His voice trails off when he realizes what you’re asking. “No. Nope. That thing probably has fleas.” He replies backing away. “But he doesn’t I already checked and even if he does we can treat it, can’t we? Cmonnn for Carl’s birthday.” You smile pleadingly. Glenn sighs and agrees. “Fine but if I get in trouble with Rick or Michonne, you’re dead.”
You smile and thank him. You look around the store for some more stuff you might need like the cats food or maybe a collar or something. You find everything and a couple a toys before you guys leave back to Alexandria. You knew getting back home would be tough, Carl’s birthday isn’t till tomorrow so you needed a way to hide the cat.
When you approached the gates you knew you’d have to be quick to hide him. You couldn’t ask Glenn since he’s already at risk of being scolded because Rick would usually never agree to letting you bring an animal home. So you thought of someone Rick can’t get mad at.
“That ain’t happenin.” Daryl says as you’re standing at his doorstep practically begging him to let you keep the cat there for the night. “Daryl it’s just for tonight? Please? It’s the perfect gift for him and I can’t keep it at our house he’ll find out and I don’t want it to be spoiled.” You pout. It kinda worked.
“If it shits in here you’re cleanin it up.” He grumbles, taking the cat from your hands and your bag of supplies. You thank him and praise him for doing you the favor. Now it’s just a matter of keeping it from Carl until the morning.
You and Glenn had come back from the run quite late so it shouldn’t be that hard. Maybe an hour and you can spend half of it in the shower. You walk into the house and Carl was feeding Judith dinner. “Hey how was the run?” He asks, trying to get Judith to eat the food off the spoon. “Fine.” You muster up. He’s confused as to why you’re being so short with him. “Find anything interesting?” He adds. “No. Not at all, I think i’m gonna go shower.” You make your way over to the stairs and he chose not to push it. He knew something was up, maybe you actually hadn’t found anything and you were upset about it. Or you were up to something else.
You had to wake up early the next morning in order to surprise him properly. You walked downstairs to see Carol cooking his breakfast and she flashes you a smile before going back to work. You head back over next door to collect the cat. You walk in and Daryl’s looking down in the box he had kept him in. He notices you and looks at you for a moment before speaking. “He shit in the kitchen.” He tells you before walking past you and out the door. “What the fuck, Daryl?” You giggle.
You handle it of course due to your guys’ agreement. You gather everything and head back over to finally surprise Carl. Rick and Michonne didn’t even realize you’d gotten him a cat so they found out when Carl did. They didn’t care, however, they knew the both of you would parent that thing like it was your damn newborn. You walk into your guys’ room and see he’s still soundly asleep. You gently place the cat on him as he sleeps and you poke him to wake up.
“Wh- woah what-“ Rick and Michonne giggle at how delirious he was. “Happy birthday.” You smile, waiting for him to process. He sits there for a moment to do so. “Wait we can keep it?” He croaks out. You look to Rick and Michonne and they look to each other. They look back to the both of you and nod, finally giving in. “Thank you.” He smiles as you lean down to kiss his forehead.
The rest of the day went perfectly, you guys spent the whole day together and got to do whatever it was you wanted, like going out to the woods with your new cat. Carl had his birthday dinner and afterwards you both went upstairs to rest from your eventful day.
His birthday ended perfectly. Laying in bed with his favorite person and his new kitten.
It couldn’t get any better than that.
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a/n: i hope you likedddd ittttt this one’s one of my favorites now UHHH i didn’t give the cat a specific name bc i wanna leave that to you guys to name him muehehehe lowkey reply with a name you’d give the cat :P THIS REQUEST WAS ADOOORABLE THANK YOU ♠️
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quin-ns · 2 days
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The blue (JJ Maybank x Reader)
Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for
Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)
A/N: first series I’ve finished and I could not be more excited to share! please read the tags and if the subject matter is uncomfortable to you, you do not have to read. this one is a wild ride guys, I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store 🫶
Series masterlist + OBX masterlist
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JJ didn’t really understand how this happened, but it did. When he tried to trace it all back, there wasn’t really one big moment. Just a bunch of small individual moments that amounted to… this. This feeling. This thing that kept him up at night that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.
He’d never been in love before, so it took JJ awhile to realize that’s what he felt for you.
Or maybe it was the denial. The moral part of his brain telling him it wasn’t normal. Your mom was married to his dad, so according to everyone else’s rules that made you his step sister—even if he didn’t think about you in that context anymore.
He used to, when you both were younger, before your mom got arrested. A large part of why JJ was so happy when you came into his life was because his dad eased up on him, finding some semblance of happiness with your mom.
But she wasn’t exactly perfect. To be with his dad, JJ always wondered what was wrong. As it would turn out, she had serious issues, but what they got her for was being a tax cheat. It added up how they could’ve met after that.
It was getting to be around… what, a little over a year since that happened? JJ couldn’t really keep track of the months, and you never liked to talk about it.
As much as JJ loved his father, he knew he wasn’t a good guy, even if he wanted him to be. So it surprised him when his dad still let you stay with them, but you’d been around since you were both about thirteen, so even if his dad didn’t think of himself as responsible for you (or even JJ), he at least cared enough to not throw you to the street.
That was about the same JJ got from him, and recognizing that is what brought you closer to him.
Sure, you’d been sort of close growing up, but not really. You mostly spent time with your mom and your own friends. Then, when everything went down, you lost your mom and your friends followed not long after. He saw the puffiness in your eyes when you’d come home and go to your room for the whole night. No one to hang out with after school and nowhere to go on a Saturday night. They had ditched you, apparently deciding that mocking you was more important than being there for you. It made his stomach hurt to see you in such a state. You didn’t smile for days.
So JJ, being the good step brother that he was, stepped in. He took you under his wing and brought your smile back.
You fit in well with his friends, easily becoming a part of the group. They liked having you around, and JJ felt like he got to know you in a way he hadn’t ever before.
It was selfish, but you made being at home easier. You kept him company when he stayed up too late and made sure to wake him up in the morning so he wouldn’t be late to work whatever odd job he had at the time.
Whenever his dad hit him, which started again not long after your mom was locked up, you were there to take care of him.
You were so sweet with him, eyes full of care and touches gentle as you cleaned his cuts or iced his bruises. It made it hurt less.
After one night, when his dad hit him, leaving a cut from one of his rings on JJ’s face, you came to his aid as you frequently did. His dad stormed out, so it was just the two of you as you cleaned his face. You had him sit on the couch and stood over him, one hand holding his face while the other held a cloth to make sure the cut was clean.
As JJ stared up at you, your frustrated words about his father falling on deaf ears, one jarring thought crossed his mind.
You should kiss her.
He’d immediately stood up, snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in, and went to his room. You’d tried to talk to him, but he brushed you off and said he was tired. When he asked to be left alone, which was rare, you did.
He didn’t sleep most of the night, staring up at his ceiling wondering where that thought had even come from. He’d never had it before, but from that moment on, JJ started to become much more aware of everything you did—everything you did for him.
Of course his friends loved him and cared about him, and he did the same for them, but with you, something about it just felt different. You were by his side nearly every moment of the day. You saw things they didn’t, and you were there when they couldn’t be.
You became everything to JJ. There was no other way to put it.
That was a couple months ago, and since then, his realization had morphed into something far more.
JJ was deeply, madly in love with you, which was not something a guy should be with his step sister, but he was. He didn’t really deal with it, just shoved it down and tried to ignore it. It was hard, especially when he was around you every single day, but JJ had done his best.
JJ would catch himself staring at you more than he’d admit, but no one seemed to notice. No one would suspect what he was thinking anyway. He made excuses to touch you, like a hand on your back when moving past you to get something or draping his arm over your shoulder and leaning on you jokingly. The latter made you laugh, and he’d join you, but he’d still feel a loss when you playfully nudged him away and told him you weren’t an armrest.
Sometimes, when he didn’t care how pathetic it was, he’d let himself drink too much, just so he could lean on you when you’d help him inside. When he pulled that stunt, sometimes he’d get lucky and you’d even stay by his side to make sure he went to sleep comfortably. And of course, whenever his dad struck, fists full of misplaced rage, you were there, easing the pain.
JJ resolved to take what he could get, and eventually he’d move on.
At least, he hoped that’s how it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and—
“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of JJ’s face. “I’m talking to you.”
JJ blinked. He looked at you, zoning back in. In an instant, he remembered what was going on. You and him, along with his three best friends, were all on the beach. The others were in the water, while you had been sunbathing on shore and JJ… well, he’d just been sitting by you, wanting to be in your proximity (and sometimes steal glances when he couldn’t help himself).
But now you were on your feet, leaning down as you dropped your hand. JJ’s eyes fell from your face to your chest, and he swallowed when he caught a glimpse down your bikini top.
His eyes flicked back to your face. Was that too obvious? He hoped not.
“Sorry, what?”
You gave him a confused look, but laughed and straightened up.
“Do you wanna get in?”
He knew you meant the water, and in the distance he saw his friends waving for the two of you to join them.
JJ shook his head, and the action felt as if it were in slow motion. Kind of like when he was high, but much less carefree.
“Um, maybe in a bit.”
If he got too distracted he’d probably drown in the ocean—if the guilt of keeping his secret from you didn’t do it first.
You shrugged, not able to read him the way you usually could.
“If you’re scared, there might be some floaties somewhere,” you teased as you turned your back, heading for the water.
JJ couldn’t formulate a comeback, too focused on the swing on your hips as you walked away from him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed again, questioning his own self what was wrong with him. He’s never experienced such a desperate feeling before. What were you doing to him?
When he opened his eyes, you were in the water, and he had no answers.
He tried to focus on the sand, the water, the sky—anything but you. He even tried to look at Kiara just to see if it would work, but his eyes always drifted back to you, the ache in his chest growing with each passing minute.
JJ didn’t think much of it when he saw Kiara suddenly haul herself up onto Pope’s shoulders, but he felt like he got kicked in the stomach when you climbed onto John B’s.
John B’s arms locked around your legs, the two of you laughing loudly as you steadied yourself. JJ could hear it from shore—you weren’t that far out. JJ knew he was focusing far more than necessary because he saw the way your hands brushed John B’s hair out of his face as he tilted his head back to look up at you.
Even from where he was, JJ could see how you smiled down at John B. It was innocent and friendly, and it made him incredibly jealous.
You and Kiara started to go at it, trying to knock the other into the water.
JJ didn’t think anyone noticed when he stood and walked down to the edge of the sand.
“You’re going down!” Kiara shouted, her hands interlocked with and pushing against yours as you both refused to budge.
You laughed loudly. It was like music.
It took one exchanged look from you and John B to formulate a plan. It was the kind of silent communication that JJ thought you reserved for him.
You let Kiara lean a lot of weight on you, and that’s where your advantage was. In an instant, you relaxed your grip and John B stepped to the side. The other girl, and Pope beneath her, wobbled. It was over in a second. The two shouted right before they crashed down into the water.
“Ha!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air while John B whooped and hollered in celebration.
Kiara and Pope emerged, both rolling their eyes. It was their turn to share a look, and as JJ waded into the water, he figured out their plan.
With the two of them jumping at John B, it was easy to knock him off his feet. JJ’s eyes went a little wide when you fell into the water with a crash.
“Did you see that?” Kiara yelled with a grin when she spotted JJ.
“Kinda hard to miss,” he responded, looking around the water. It had been a few seconds and you had yet to reappear.
“They’re just messing with us,” Pope commented on your and John B’s absence, but his words started to sound less sure by the end.
Another long beat of silence passed. The waves grew still.
“This isn’t funny anymore!” Kie shouted.
JJ felt a twinge of panic, awful scenarios flashing through his head. It didn’t matter how unlikely they were.
Suddenly, water erupted. John B arose with a splash, with you clinging to his back. He roared dramatically while shoving water towards Kie and Pope. They screamed as the waves hit them, trying and failing to shield themselves.
“Revenge!” you yelled in a maniacal manner, chin on John B’s shoulder.
“Truce! Truce!” Kie and Pope both yelled, spitting out saltwater.
John B paused, and JJ noticed how close his face was to yours when he turned his head.
“Should we forgive them?” John B deferred to you.
You hummed thoughtfully. “I think they learned their lesson,” you decided. Your gaze, which had been focused on John B, shifted past him. “Hey, look who made it!”
JJ realized you were talking to him. He forced a smile, smothering the jealousy he felt at seeing you and John B in the position you were in. It seemed weirdly close for you two. You and John B weren’t usually touchy-feely-piggyback-ride friends.
John B seemed to pick up on JJ’s shift in demeanor, because his smile was a little more contained as he said, “Hey, man.”
JJ figured his friend didn’t get that he was jealous, which was for the best. Everyone knew JJ was protective over you, and John B probably thought JJ was questioning his intentions as your brother. Why would it be anything else?
“Nice victory,” JJ replied, having nothing better to say. He didn’t even grit his teeth, so he counted that as a win for himself.
Tension eased as you all decided to just chat and relax in the water until the sun set.
Although, JJ kept an eye on John B, noticing how his friend kept an eye on you.
When it got dark and you all began to head back to the shore, JJ found himself at your side. Your steps fell in line with his as you looked up.
“You feeling okay?” you asked lightly. You must’ve sensed his attitude shift, even if it was subtle. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”
JJ couldn’t help the urge to smile at how well you knew him.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to concern you. He liked when you worried about him, but this was the one time when he didn’t want you pressing for him to open up. “Are you?”
JJ reached to ruffle your damp hair. You swatted his hand away before he could do any real damage.
“Very funny,” you grumbled. Your expression shifted to a smile, then softened. There was something careful about it. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”
JJ swallowed, trying to avoid the way your eyes searched his. He had to look forward before he could answer.
“Yeah, of course,” he assured.
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JJ didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, but he remembered everyone sitting around the living room.
Wait, no. That wasn’t right.
The porch. Everyone has been sitting on the porch, drinking and laughing together. He recalled cramming himself into a chair next to you, playing it off like a joke. Everyone had laughed, and he got to be close to you, so it worked out.
He also remembered following Kiara and Pope inside, expecting you to be behind him.
Everything clicked.
You and John B had elected to stay outside, and JJ had been sitting on the couch, watching through the window, trying to make out what you were saying through the small opening where the window was cracked for the nighttime breeze.
He must’ve dozed off while waiting for you. That didn’t sound like him—he would’ve been focused on watching you, making sure you made it in. Maybe he had been worn out or you stayed up way too late, or both.
JJ blinked a few times. He was just concerned for your safety, like always. Fenced in porches with lights and his best friend keeping you company could be dangerous…
Yeah, he didn’t even buy that.
It was easier back when JJ believed his own lies and self justifications.
Sitting up, JJ peered out the window. It was the early hours of the morning, right around when it was still dark but you could just tell the sun was about to begin rising. His heart sped up when he found you missing from your chair. You weren’t in any of the other chairs in his view, either.
He stood up, feeling more awake than ever, and went right for the door. He didn’t care about waking anyone inside up.
“Jeez, man,” John B said suddenly, sounding surprised as he looked at him. JJ had just barged out onto the porch out of nowhere. “You good?”
JJ took a second to observe his friend. He half-sitting and half-laying back on the couch against the wall, which made sense because he’d been sitting there before. From inside, JJ couldn’t see him, but he didn’t even think about John B’s whereabouts until he stepped out.
Maybe he was a bad friend for that.
He didn’t feel that guilty, though, because he saw where you were; sleeping on John B with your head on his thigh. You were curled up on your side, facing away from his body, and JJ could see how steadily you were breathing.
JJ looked back at his friend, ready to lash out, but the word ‘irrational’ popped up in his mind and resisted. Just from the scene in front of him, it’s not like he had anything to be mad about.
Jealous, maybe, but not mad. But he couldn’t act on that feeling either. If he acted jealous, that would invite too many questions that JJ didn’t have a good answer for.
“Fine just…” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. “You guys good?”
John B furrowed his brows a little, but chuckled.
“Yeah, we’re fine. We were just talking and she started to fall asleep and I just let her. She seemed tired and it wasn’t a big deal so...”
“What were you guys talking about?”
“I don’t know, stuff?”
JJ leaned back in the doorway. “Like what, though?”
John B tilted his head a little, shaking it ever so slightly.
“Just… life and stuff. Does it matter?”
“I guess not,” JJ replied, giving the appropriate answer. He looked down at you, noticing you hadn’t stirred. You looked comfortable, and that was very conflicting. All of this was. It made his head hurt. “Has she been asleep long?”
John B met JJ’s eyes when he looked back up from you.
“You sure you’re okay?” John B asked, sounding almost concerned. Or at least confused. Maybe both.
But the answer was no. No he wasn’t.
“Yeah, man,” JJ answered with a shrug. “She probably won’t wake up if you wanna get up and go get some sleep.”
John B looked down at you, then at JJ.
He slowly started to move, being extra careful with your head, making sure to put a cushion beneath you before standing up straight.
John B gave a light, awkward smile to JJ as he neared him. He brushed past to go through the door, turning to face JJ.
“You coming?”
“Actually, I think I’m gonna sleep out here,” JJ answered, fighting the urge to look at you. He gave a shrug instead and said, “It’s nice out and I can’t get comfortable on the couch anyway. You can have it—plus I think Kie’s in your bed, so…”
“Right…” John B agreed slowly, glancing at you on the couch again. “You know nothing happened, right?” He looked back at JJ. “We were just talking.”
JJ wasn’t expecting something so direct. “It’s cool man, I know,” he found himself replying. “We’re good.”
John B nodded, albeit slowly. He entered the dark house, and JJ shut the door behind him. As a courtesy.
He then turned, spotted the comfiest chair, and resolved to sleep in that for the night. You had stretched out on the couch and looked too peaceful to disturb, even if he did want to take John B’s place from before.
It worked out perfectly, because it gave him a clear view of you as he decided to let himself go back to sleep.
As his eyes closed, he wondered if John B would peek through the window just as he had.
If he did, he’d see the content smile on JJ’s face as he drifted off to sleep. For yet another night, JJ got you all to himself. He didn’t want it any other way. He wasn’t sure what he would do.
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glxyaaandromeda · 3 days
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Missing your presence
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Pairing/s: Xavier, Zayne, Rafayel x GN! Reader [Separated Established Relationship]
Warning/s: Angst / hurt / comfort
Summary: What would be their reaction when you left without a word… then came back again.
A/N: I stopped playing LnDs for a month and when I came back a few days ago, I received these messages from them and thought I should write something angst with a bit of comfort headcanon about it. The devs do be really know how to pull our heartstrings huh?
Masterlists | commission sheet + socials
Xavier
He missed you, like a lot.
Despite not getting responses from you, he continues to message you now and then. “Why are you so quiet?” “Did you go to the no-hunt zone alone again?” “Are you hiding from me or is something bothering you?”
Even when he sleeps, he sees you in his dreams, hoping someday you would come back again.
When there’s no Wanderer around, he goes to the places you and him enjoy each other's company.
Then you return – you saw him in the cafe that you and he visited often, he was sitting near the window and the drink that he ordered remained untouched then he saw you walking on where he sat.
He’s not dreaming, is he? He’s not dreaming. “So it’s not a dream? Can I pinch you, (Y/N)?” You gave him a small nod as you sit beside him and he did pinch you – not enough to hurt you of course but just to see if you are actually real, with him. Then without any word, he embraced you. “I missed you a lot when you were gone.”
Zayne
Busy as usual.
Though his co-workers noticed that he’s been checking his phone from time to time so often, “Respond when you have time.” “I saw a hunter wearing their uniform at the airport and… I thought it was you.” are some of the messages that he sent to you, waiting for you to reply, but nothing came. 
It’s a weird feeling from him honestly, he missed your presence, your messages – like any updates from you on what had happened on your day. He still hopes that you’re doing okay at least even if you missed your monthly check-ups from him.
He tries not to be angry at you, a bit disappointed but… maybe it’s a personal matter that’s why there’s no word when you left.
Then you return – It surely is a coincidence to see him on the restaurant that you and him had lunch together, you saw him making a snow replica of the cat that you’ve seen a lot here at the restaurant.
With the food that you ordered on hand, you walked over to where he sat. “Is this seat taken?” There was a minute of silence between you two, Zayne registering if it’s really you in front of him and yes it is you. “Is this your way of punishing me?” “No- I, absolutely not..” Then you explained to him what had happened for the past few months, he then gave you a head pat. “Hm, if that’s the case then, can we stop this punishment now?” 
Rafayel
He was frustrated for a week or so.
Why did you leave without a word? You are his bodyguard after all, shouldn’t you ask for a sick leave or something before you leave? But you didn’t.
He’s sure to himself that you are capable of taking care of yourself, so why is he worrying too much about you? He still continues to message you even though he knows damn well you won’t respond to him.. “... are you asleep?” “Come find me when you wake up.” 
He tried his best to enjoy the things he does every day even if your presence is not there, it’s not really a big deal really. (p.s: it’s a big deal to him to be honest.)
Then you return – His studio was a mess, Thomas already tried his best to cheer him up to tidy his studio but it was always different when you’re there and… there you are facing his back as he continues to paint a new art piece, you assume. 
“So you finally decided to show up, huh?” There is the sassy Rafayel you knew, now facing you. “By the way, I went to art exhibitions, sketching and painting alone, no big deal really.” He didn't even realize how much he misses you, with a sigh and giving him an apologetic smile you couldn’t help but laugh lightly on his antics – whenever he crossed his arms and pouts, you couldn’t help but offer him a hug. “... are you mad?” “Hmph. I can’t get mad at you and.. Welcome back my bodyguard.”
the messages I was referring to, like 😭😭😭
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Text
Take A Chance: Rafe Cameron
Outer Banks Masterlist
word count: 800
description: tried of seeing your heart broken by losers, Rafe decides to take matters into his hands...will you accept?
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Another failed talking stage but yet you were so attached. You had been in your room rotting away for at least two days now only stepping out when no one was around to see you and how miserable you were over a talking stage. 
You were currently laying in bed softly crying thinking how you were destined to be alone at this rate. So lost in your thoughts that you didn't hear your bedroom door open until you saw him kneeling in front of you with a frown on his face. 
"He doesn't deserve your tears sunshine." He said gently wiping your tears. 
"I know but it still hurts Rafe, every time I try to start a relationship with a guy it always fails...I just wish I was good enough." You said sadly. 
"But you are good enough sunshine, someday you will find someone who show you how good enough you are." He said as you leaned into his touch. 
Rafe's heart was breaking seeing you like this...seeing you so heartbroken over some loser that clearly didn't appreciate you. 
"Rafe can you lay with me for a bit?" You asked him softly.
"Of course sunshine." He said softly kicking his shoes off. 
He climbed into your bed next to you before beckoning to come crawl into his arms which you happily did. He laid there running a hand through your hair until he heard your breathing even out and then he pulled out his phone and started planning something special for you. Rafe had been in love with you for years but due to his issues he always kept them to himself never wanting to hurt you or involve you in his mess but now he had no choice. 
"She's gonna love that, are you finally going to tell her?" Sarah asked standing by your door. 
"You think so?  I want this to be perfect for her she deserves to know that there is someone out there that truly loves her." He said placing a kiss on your forehead making you snuggle into him. 
"Yes Rafe she's gonna love it. I'm gonna go since you are here with her but let me know if you need anything." Sarah said. 
A few days later you were feeling a bit better than you had been the last two weeks. You were currently getting ready for a surprise that Rafe said he had for you unsure what he was up to. 
You had just finished putting on your shoes when you heard him knock on the door. You walked over to the door and opened it and there he was standing there looking so handsome as always, with a bouquet of sunflowers.  
"Wow sunshine you look absolutely gorgeous." He said. 
"Thank you Rafe, you look handsome as well." You said with a small smile. 
"These are for you, I know how much you love sunflowers." He said handing them to you as your heart melted. 
"You remembered?" You asked shocked as none of your past relationships did. 
"Of course I did, I remember everything about you sunshine." He said with a smile. 
You quickly put them in some water so they wouldn't die and met him by the door, where he lead you out to his truck and helped you into it. You guys made small talk as he drove to wherever he was taking you, and soon enough you guys were at the private beach that you guys liked to come to. He parked his truck and helped you out and that's when you saw a beautiful picnic setup by the beach making you look at Rafe. 
"Rafe what is going on? What's all this?" You asked him. 
"Sunshine bare with me...this is all new for me but I wanted to take you on a small date to show you that there is someone out there who cares for you and wants you and thinks the world of you." He said nervously. 
"Why now Rafe?" You asked him. 
"Because sunshine I thought I was protecting you by pushing you away but after seeing you hurt once again by some loser, I couldn't keep hiding from you any longer. So I know this is a big ask sunshine, but please take a chance on me and let me show you the kind of relationship you deserve." He said.
You were shocked by his confession let alone that he did all of this for you but deep down you had always had feelings for Rafe and that all these talking stages were attempts to get your mind off of him. 
"Rafe I would like to give us a chance." You said with a smile. 
Hearing you say that made a huge smile spread across Rafe's face as he wrapped his arms around you and placed a kiss on your lips. 
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shadowlali · 23 hours
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Hi, I love the way you write (You literally write 3 of my favorite COD men)
If you could I would love a Fem/Reader with either Rodolfo or Alejandro and they’re teaching you how to dance for an upcoming wedding. (It’s cool if you wanna make it SFW/NSFW).
Anyway I hope you keep writing because it gives me life haha
tú y yo
COD - Rudy Parra x fem!reader
[18+] wc: ~800 summary: Rudy teaches you how to dance. masterlist | AO3
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warnings: NSFW, no use of Y/N nor too many details on reader’s appearance, some proofreading, oral (f! receiving), size kink (kinda), unprotected sex
a/n: hi nonnie, thank you so so much for the support! 🤍🤍🤍
“Move your hips,” Rudy whispers in your ear, “just like this, nena.” [babygirl]
Soft music plays from the speaker through the living room. The coffee table is pushed to the wall and the center of the room is left empty, perfect space for Rudy to teach you how to dance. His hands caress your sides and slide down to your hips, helping you move them in a small circle.
You can’t help but giggle. There is absolutely no need for all of this considering he’s teaching you how to dance for his sister’s wedding. You take a quick step forward, narrowly missing Rudy’s hands as they try to keep you pressed against him.
“Rudy,” you whine, “focus. You have to teach me how to dance for a family event. Not for you.”
You place your hands on your hips and try to give him a stern look but fail, immediately melting into his arms the moment he wraps them around you.
“I forgot,” Rudy croons, “you distract me too much.”
You link your fingers behind his neck whisper out oh sure, you forgot. He places his hands on your hips as a new song starts and slowly moves them from side to side.
He rubs the tip of his nose on yours before tilting his head to the side to press a soft kiss on your lips. You sink your fingers in his hair as he presses your hips to his hard bulge.
“Rudy,” you whisper on his mouth, “focus.”
He laughs, “I am, mi amor.” [my love]
For the next few songs he keeps a respectable distance and teaches you a few moves. You’ve always been just okay at dancing, but Rudy and his family are on a whole other level.
It doesn’t matter if it's a simple family dinner, the moment the music begins—his family will start a party. His mom and sisters will always pull you to the dance floor and you love them too much to continue being a subpar dancer.
Plus, Rudy loves to dance. And he moves way too well for you to stay sitting down at parties.
Rudy immediately agreed to teach you how to dance. Not because he thinks you need help–he always makes you feel confident whenever you dance together–but because it's just another chance for him to touch and keep you close.
“Doing so good, mi vida,” Rudy says as you immediately match the tempo to the next song. [my life]
Rudy smiles with genuine happiness as he watches you dance. His eyes are soft and half-lidded, his hands gentle while they guide you.
You press closer to Rudy as the music changes to something slower. The beat vibrates you to the core, causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin.
You turn around and press right against his cock, grabbing his hands and placing them on your hips. He slides a hand to your lower belly and grinds his cock on your ass.
By the end of the next song, his head is between your thighs and your whimpers are louder than the music. His fingers plunge into you with harsh strokes, stretching you for his cock.
Rudy drags you down to the floor before you can cum and plunges his cock in your creamy pussy. He folds you almost in half, fucking into you while he presses his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss.
“More, more, more,” you chant, close to tears.
“Nena,” Rudy groans, “you love how I fuck you? Love how I make you all mine?”
A choked yes falls from your lips but you take each plunge, feeling his tip bump the end of you. One of his hands grips your thigh to spread you open while the other is placed on the floor by your head.
It becomes harder to breath, your head becoming dizzy with each slide of his hips. It’s intense, a little rough given how much you teased each other while dancing. He’s big, stretching you to your limit. But you can take it, you always do.
“Should I finish inside of you, mi amor? Paint this little cunt with my cum?”
Your pussy grips and flutters around his thick length at his words. You manage to mumble out yes, please Rudy, please before dragging a hand down to rub at your swollen clit.
The orgasm hits you with full force the moment your fingers circle your button. Your body pulls tight and your eyes shudder close from the force of his thrusts.
You barely manage to hear him praise you, come for me, nena–milk my cock, just like that. Rudy groans in a mixture of pain and pleasure and immediately comes, fucking you in sloppy thrusts.
Warm cum fills your pussy as you twist and moan underneath him. He grinds his hips into you, making sure that not a single drop of cum escapes your cunt.
Rudy falls next to you in a sweaty heap. Your body shakes in little aftershocks as Rudy drags you closer to him.
“I think,” he whispers after a few minutes, “I think you’re a great dancer.”
You let out a laugh and turn your head to press a kiss onto his cheek.
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cheesus-doodles · 2 days
Text
A Friend In Me: Chapter 4
Yandere Platonic Toman
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Chapters 1 | 2‎ | 3
Masterlist
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my usual pink line divide no longer works because it messes with the tags ;^; have this divider from angelfire instead
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The world around Mikey came to a standstill. His ears buzzed with static, unable to process anything as his mind raced. In a sole instant, everything clicked together as if an incomplete puzzle finally being solved, and the Tokyo Manji Gang president could see the full picture, though the surprise at this revelation never made it to reflect in those abyss eyes. 
It made sense now, the blond-haired boy mused, watching the other five Toman founders burst into action in slow motion around him. He understood. Why you were attracted to two fighting delinquents instead of beating a hasty retreat like everyone else when you first met them, why you never seemed bothered by them turning up with small splatters of blood on their disheveled uniforms, why you could so effectively patch up injuries. You had never divulged or discussed your home life nor your childhood with them, and he had never bothered pressing you for details. Because why would he, when all evidence pointed to you living alone and having always lived alone? Having followed you home countless times to an empty house, you were always alone at all times of the day. No laundry or carelessly strewn clothes to be found, no closed or locked room that indicated another resident in your home. Even the pictures that decorated the walls and your bedrooms have always just been you and them.
“Hey!” From behind Mikey came a shout from Mitsuya, quickly followed by the telltale sounds of a tussle between the Toman Vice President and the Second Division Captain over you in the middle. “Don’t pull like that!”
You had grown up beside a delinquent. Your older brother whom you had never cared to mention was himself a fearsome and borderline insane delinquent - they had doubetlessly heard of Madarame Shion’s brutality and his supposed involvement in underworld crimes even before their paths crossed. Of course nothing they did would surprise or scare you if this was the normal behavior you were exposed to all your life. 
Abyss eyes turned to take in the expression on your face, the horror at what was happening slowly settling into your swollen eyes even as tears continued to streak down flush cheeks. Yet, all it took was the merest exposure to what was the normalcy of any delinquent’s life for you to break down - a telling-off, a by-far bloodless fight, nothing that would raise the eyebrow of a seasoned onlooker really. So how much did you really know? Did you know of their previous clash with Shion and the ninth generation of Black Dragons back when from the founding of Toman? He doubted it - your reaction to them after their fight would have been a lot stronger if you did. But most importantly, why didn’t you tell them earlier about having an older sibling?
A muffled shout from your still-connected call to your disgrace-of-a-delinquent older brother was enough to draw Mikey’s attention back to the current situation at hand, though he all but ignored whatever that goon had to say. No, you couldn’t know, he determined, because if you did, you would clearly see that they had no reason to fear a shithead like Shion. They had beaten him and his gang once already, what was a second time? But he could get the answers out of you later, once you were safe and away from this mess. For now, the Toman President mused, as time returned to its usual speed and the world exploded back into its full chaotic state, there were more important things to settle.
The mere thought of possibly losing you to this black-haired homewrecker you called Koko, or even worse, the loser of an older brother that they have already beaten to a pulp once; his heart raced. He couldn’t accept it. These weak-willed losers couldn’t be allowed to win him, especially not in a matter as important as this. 
Pivoting around, your watery eyes were helplessly fixed on the brawl going down right in front of you, phone clutched in a white-knucked grip. This was all for your own good. He was just protecting you from the wider world, the Toman President tried to convince himself, his slippered feet starting its ominous route towards the brawling four, his hands tucked almost casually into the pockets of his school pants. Your eyes immediately snapping to him and your lips falling apart as you watched him move.
Not because Mikey needed your support and your attention; no, he didn’t need you as much as you needed him. He was strong, the unshakable pillar of the Tokyo Manji Gang, not soft and weak and a crybaby like you. His heart wasn’t aching at the mere thought of never being able to see you again, never having you pamper and lavish him with attention and love and filling the hole in his heart - the palpitations was from excitement, the itch to fight and drive away the enemies of his friends.
He was the Invincible Mikey, and now more than ever, he needed to make sure that everyone knew why.
‎‎
‎‎
Ninth Generation Black Dragon President. You heard Koko loud and clear right before the momentary tranquility went straight to hell once more, but now you could barely think amidst the cacophony. Individually, the words made sense, yet strung together, it became incoherent to your spinning mind. Too many, too much. Watching Baji once more take aim at the opposing delinquent, you staggered a step forward, your heart urging you to take action; do something, do anything. Before someone gets hurt again. 
You were yanked back before you could take another step, vaguely registering Draken’s voice snapping at you but nothing registering in your mind. Fixated on the fight going on its second round, the white of Inui’s uniform, combined with his sunflower-blond hair, seemed to almost glimmer in the sunlight as it caught your eye, and the memories you had long lost to the back of your mind came surging back to the front. You had seen that uniform before, having washed and scrubbed the blood from the white fabric before Shion moved out. It’s happening. Again. Any control you felt you had left over your own life was slipping through your fingers once more; the way of your life that you had so painstakingly built, the personality you had so carefully tailored, everything was falling apart in front of your eyes. All over again.
Those stunned expressions you just saw simply couldn’t be faked, you knew instinctively, not with how all of them wore the same look on their faces. For reasons beyond you, everyone present all knew your older brother, and vice versa. They all hated each other, and you were caught right in the middle. How could you have known that the only friends you had knew of and hated each other? What more could you have done? What could you have done differently?
Maybe you should have heeded Mikey’s and the other’s warnings about Koko. Maybe if you hadn’t gone looking for that CB250T. If you hadn’t-
Every breath became heavier and heavier, faster and faster, and you struggled to fill your lungs, the air sludgy and thick. The world around you was all too much. Too loud. You couldn’t-
A fresh pair of arms enveloped you, and you were pulled into a tight hug. “Breathe.”
You let out the breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, your body shuddering as the atmosphere instantly thinned out. You gulped down as much oxygen as you could, your sweating palms glistening in the light of the afternoon sun.
“Are you alright?” Mitsuya’s voice was calm, soft, those calloused hands gently running through your hair as he bodily blocked you from the fight that was occurring just a stone’s throw away.
Unable to speak, you simply nodded, wiping your fist on your shirt. I’m fine, you mouthed, though you knew that Mitusya knew it was a lie, your skin having turned several tones lighter from the lack of air. But you had other more important things to concern yourself with (at least in your view), as you attempted to look over your friend’s mob of purple hair. What had you missed? 
“Relax,” the Toman founder tried to convince you, resting one hand atop your head yet not forcing you down by any means despite Draken’s annoyed ‘tch’ from behind you, where he continued to hold on to you tightly. “Let them handle it.” 
Let them handle it? Giving a shaky glance you hoped was reassuring at Mitsuya, you turned your attention back to the fight, right as Kazutora broke past Inupi’s defense, his fist outstretched and jealous anger fully directed at Koko.
In a single blink, you broke free from both Draken and Mitsuya’s grip, your long strides closing the distance between you and Koko. “Tory, stop!”
The last thing Koko expected was to see you flying towards him, putting your decidedly much more fragile self between him and the Toman founder.
”Fuck- Watch out!” 
An exceptionally hard yank from Koko had both you and him flying backwards, but the loud smack of a fist into the back of your head as the two of you fell towards the ground was unmistakable. His gut dropped. Damn it. Too late. Landing with an oof on the hard ground and you atop him, the infamous financier could hardly acknowledge the ache of his back, not while his thoughts were focused solely on you. “Are you alright?” What on earth were you thinking? He wasn’t exactly a delinquent but he sure as hell could take, if not dodge, a hit better than you - he just preferred standing behind others.
You winced, rubbing what should be a forming sore spot where you were hit. “I’m fine,” you assured, the momentary crinkle of your forehead as you carefully shifted tilted your head telling otherwise, though it was quick to evaporate as the realization of who cushioned your fall hit you. You scrambled to stand, but you were instantly tackled to the ground once more by a bawling Toman founder with black and yellow hair and nearly falling over again - Kazutora, if Koko remembered correctly.
”I- I-“ Barely able to speak, your own injury was forgotten as you instantly shifted to attempt to soothe the wailing boy with an undeserved gentleness. “I hit-”
”I’m fine, I’m fine,” you tried to reassure. “It barely touched me.” It was obviously the wrong thing to say, your voice quickly drowned out as Kazutora only cried harder, burying his face into your shirt, fists clenching bundles of your school shirt. 
Koko could only watch on as you caught his gaze, returning an apologetic one of your own as you did your best to soothe the bawling delinquent - a sight that he never thought he would witness. He did already have a good idea of what your self-proclaimed Toman friends were like, having been forewarned about how protective they were of you (some of your stories truly did raise an eyebrow or two). And sure, Inupi had whirled around at his alarmed shout with what should be an intent to help, but his attention had been forced back to the fight on hand almost instantaneously when Baji had attempted to take advantage of his momentary distraction to go in for a sweep; it's not as if his friend didn’t care at all. But expecting to have to throw hands was one thing, understandable even, given how he would be associated with Inupi and thus the Black Dragons, but this level of attachment? Were all these waterworks even real?
A set of footsteps stomping in his direction had the notorious financier look up, and straight at the Toman’s Vice Captain towering over him. But the other’s ire surprisingly wasn’t directed at him, and instead, you were bodily lifted by the front of your shirt, forcing Kazutora off of you right before you were shaken like a stuck salt shaker. “What the hell were you thinking?! That was insane!”
“I’m alright-” You barely got two words out before being cut off again.
“YOU ARE NOT OKAY,” bellowed back an uncharacteristically furious Draken, and you threw both hands up in surrender even as you continued to be shaken around like a martini.  “YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN HURT. OR KILLED!”
Kazutora only started to cry harder at his words, babbling incoherently as he tried to latch onto your legs.
At least the Toman Third Division Captain was on your side, stepping between a furious Vice Captain and you and prying you free with little effort. “You’re making it worse,” Pah said simply, echoing Mitsuya’s earlier words.
“-ey! HEY! ” The vague screams of Shion echoed out from beneath you, alerting you, Koko and everyone else to the fact that you had yet to hang up on your previous call. Fishing around beneath you where your phone had most likely fallen earlier on, your older brother’s frankly annoying shrieking was finally noticed, now that the general mayhem had died down. 
And much to Koko’s annoyance, you visibly stiffened upon hearing Shion once more, like a bolt of lightning ran up your spine, and you bent over to gingerly pick up your dropped phone. He hated seeing you scared of someone as useless as Shion, a scumbag even Inupi wasn’t impressed with. If he could make your problem disappear, he would in a blink. Not that this would be right time to tell you this. 
The clash of delinquents had long driven off any last soul left that tried to wander down this street, the road deserted of passerbys of any kind. Even the wind had long died down, and Koko hastily dabbed away the sweat forming along his upper lip. “Ah, nii-san-” You mumbled out under your breath, though that was most likely more to remind yourself who you were dealing with on the other end.
“FUCKING FINALLY! YOU GET YOUR ASS HOME NOW!” 
Deflated, you looked defeated at your older brother’s orders, your shoulders slumping over. “I-”
But Shion was not done. “AND DROP THOSE TOMAN FUCKS, UNDERSTAND?”
And that was apparently where the former Black Dragon President crossed the line. In a blink, your phone disappeared from your grip as if by magic. You barely had time to react, the small, outdated electronic now clutched tightly in Mikey’s white-knuckled grip, a speed that took even Koko by surprise. When did he get that? Where did he even come from?
“I’ll kill you,” the threat from the Toman President was loud and clear, the sheer rage burning behind those empty eyes enough to have even Koko recoil. “You try anything funny, and I’ll kill you, right here, right now.”
A snort. “Try it, motherfu-”
It was a loud crack, followed by a small fizzle, an unremarkable show that marked the untimely end to your device as Mikey crushed the phone underfoot without an afterthought. Your jaw dropped. Koko estimated you must have lost the equivalent of several months of work in one inconsiderate move. 
Not that the Toman lowlives you called friends knew, of course, seemingly failing to notice you staring on speechlessly as Baji proceeded to grind the heel of his foot into the electronic device, spitting curses probably meant for your brother. You no doubt knew full-well by now that they were pissed to hell and back, both at Shion and at him, but did they have to take this out on your poor, defenseless phone?
A shove from Mitsuya quickly broke Baji’s rampage. “Stop that!” The purple-haired boy scolded, as he pushed the other Toman founder away, earning himself an irritated “Huh?!” from the First Division Captain, though that did little to scare Mitsuya. “You’re making it worse!”
The breaking of your phone was of relative insignificance to Koko at least, watching you dejectedly shuffle forward to pick up the broken pieces of the devices to stuff back into your pocket; the short tranquility he got now from the previous chaos was worth the cost to replace it for you at a later date. Even better, he could get you a nicer model, something pretty and slick and get into your good books, perhaps convince you to get an additional number that only he would have? That would definitely put him ahead of the Toman boys, at the very least.
“Hey.” A short shuffle, and Koko looked up, his eyes instantly focusing on your outstretched hand.
Inupi had long stepped aside, not eager to be pulled back into this particular lover’s squabble, those blue eyes content with observing as the Toman founders were once more embroiled in pointless arguments once more. Complete with threats of violence and withholding of lunches, it was Mistuya this time that was caught in the middle, attempting to scold both Mikey and Baji with backing from Draken. 
You, though, had turned your attention instead to him. “Are you alright?” Your voice was soft, barely audible over the other loud voices. Even with all that happened, you hadn’t forgotten about him.
“Ye, I’m fine,” Koko assured. “Just a bit sore.”
Yet as he reached out to accept your offer of help, it was a sudden recognition of the situation he put himself in that rang in his ears and rattled his mind; the sensation much as if he was waking from a trance the black-haired boy hadn’t even realized he was in. Widened almond eyes met yours, the realization lighting up dilated pupils: if he had known any better, you would have been the last person he would ever want to court, let alone be in any sort of relationship with, coming laden with so much baggage. Anyone would be insane to want to be involved with a walking spark like you.
Alas, the sensation was momentary, and the thought of letting you slip away from him - letting someone Koko cared about be stolen away from him again - was accompanied immediately by a heart-throbbing sense of loss that came surging from his gut. Could he truly live without you to fill the hole in his heart? More importantly, did he dare to attempt to? 
Too lost in his thoughts, it was a subconscious catch of movement in the corner of his eye that snapped Koko out from his inner turmoil. It was of course you, though the disappointment was already written on your face as you began to pull away and straighten up, words tumbling free from pressed lips. “Ah- I’m glad,” you muttered, starting to turn away from him. “Hopefully it doesn’t hurt bad.”
How long had he been trapped thinking in real world time? Long enough for you to notice his hesitation, at the very least. Panic now kicking his reaction back into high gear, Koko all but threw himself after your now-retreating hand, catching it just centimeters away from where it had been, a nervous smile pulling at his lips. “Thanks,” was all his heavy tongue could stutter out, the black-haired boy trying desperately to pretend that nothing had happened as he pulled himself up, taking care to rely as little as possible on you. You said nothing, but the upturn of your lips told him everything he needed to know. You didn’t even pull away from him when he had surreptitiously intertwined his fingers with yours, quietly pulling both your hands behind him so the others couldn’t see.
See? There was no doubt - you wanted to be with him. The little moment however didn’t last long, as Koko forced himself to focus back on the issue at hand. He had to solve this issue before they could take you away from him. He couldn’t lose everything again. Wrecking his brain, the solution that Koko arrived at was surprisingly simple. 
Money. 
It was money that could have saved Akane, so maybe money could save you too? That was it. Money. Money could solve everything, couldn’t it? “How much?” Koko found himself blurting out before he could stop himself. Those two words were enough to dumbfounded everyone there, with eight pairs of eyes turning to stare at Koko. Were they really that surprised? Or just waiting for an offer?
“A hundred thousand yen,” the black-haired boy clarified. And he didn’t need to clarify what he was saying - a hundred thousand yen for them to give you to him. He didn’t want to fight, he was barely interested in being a delinquent as it is. All he wanted was you, no matter the cost. “I’ll give you a hundred thousand yen.” 
“What?” You were the first to speak, your slack jaw and furrowed eyebrows sending a throb through his chest. Damn, was his offer too low? You were priceless of course - no matter how vast Koko’s fortune was, you would always be unattainable - so were you going to think that he was being cheap? That you were only worth so little in his eyes?
Even Inupi had raised an eyebrow at his named price, and though the surprise was written all over his usual stoic expression, the blond-haired boy said nothing.
But before he could try and revise his offer, to make sure you knew just how much Koko was ready to spend on you, it seemed his words finally set in in the others’ much slower minds. “Do you think we’re just going to sell-” The vein bulged prominently on Baji’s forehead as he once more lunged forward, and would have reached his target if not for Mitsuya grabbing the back of his shirt. “You son of a bitch!”
“How fucking dare you?!” Kazutora snarled, and Koko braced himself for another fight as the duo-colored delinquent made to pull away from you.
“Honestly why is it everytime there’s a ruckus, it’s always you, Mikey?” A new voice sighed out from behind Koko, catching all present by surprise. Those abyss eyes were an exact carbon copy of the Tokyo Manji Gang President’s, though the man that they belonged to was one that Koko was thankfully still on rather good terms with. “Can yall at least keep it away from my shop? Bad for business and all.”
By now, the once clear sky had filled up with clouds that blocked most of the light from the afternoon sun, the oppressing heat somewhat dissipating as the breeze picked up once more.
From where you were at the center of the mess, your ears perked up as if a dog recognized the word ‘snack’. “O-oji-san?” You sniffled a little, though you quickly pulled yourself together, rubbing your nose on your forearm. Eyes, though red and swollen, were now dry.
“I’m not that old!” Shinichiro froze right as the words left his lips, blinking as he stared back at you, the gears very clearly turning behind his eyes as he took in the entire scene that had unfolded right in front of his shop. “Oh,” the man mumbled, as if all the puzzle pieces had just fallen into place, gaze turning from you to Mikey before landing on Inupi and Koko. A pause, and he sighed, resting one hand on his hip. “It’s you, huh?”
Kazutora shuffled protectively in front of you in an attempt to hide your figure from the older man’s view, your arm interlocked tightly with his as he glared back. “You staring?” The sandy-brown eyed boy demanded, puffing up his chest the same way a cat poofed up its fur, a 180 from his childlike state just minutes earlier, the tears now all gone as he scowled at the newest entry.
This, however, only earned him a whack to the back of his head by Draken, after which the boy deflated. “That’s Mikey’s older brother, dipshit.”
Shinichiro seemed to barely notice the small squabble taking place, his hand dipping into his pocket to withdraw a small, slightly crushed pack of cigarettes and a lighter. Sliding the stick into his mouth and lighting up, the older man took a long inhale, his voice slightly raspy as he spoke. “So,” he started, looking at Mikey. “This is the buddy you’ve been telling me about?”
Yet before Mikey could answer the rhetorical question, Shinichiro had already turned to Koko. “And also your little birdie?”
“No.” “No.” Both Mikey and Baji snapped irritably together in response to the second question, with Baji seemingly just a hair’s breadth away from flying straight at Koko once more, his fist clenching with anticipation.
“He,” Baji very pointedly hissed out, sharp yellow eyes glaring across the aisle at Koko. “Needs to stay away.”
You meekly shuffled your feet, your eyes turned down towards the ground as your Toman friends turned on cue to shoot you a stink eye. Ah. Caught breaking the rules again. “Koko’s just a friend,” you offered weakly, though it didn’t seem to convince anyone. 
Koko could only feel the growing pit at the base of his gut as Inupi threw a similarly dirty look his way, though the sunflower-blond Black Dragon member still raised his pipe in defense. Fuck. To be fair to him, Koko reasoned internally, he hadn’t known about your ties to the Tokyo Manji Gang back when he was standing outside Inupi’s door in the rain, but he did casually fail to mention it even after he knew. Now that it was out in the open, there wasn’t really anything more he could say.
Shinichiro let out yet another ragged sigh as he took another breath, exhaling the smoke into a column that hung lazily in the still, humid air before speaking again, this time his words directed at you. “And you’re related to the Ninth Generation Black Dragon President? The one that Toman bea- OW!”
You were slightly confused at Mikey’s sudden move to stomp on Shinichiro’s foot, the abrupt sentence stop only leaving you to wonder. Was Shinichiro trying to say something that Mikey didn’t like? Shrugging it off as something you wouldn’t be able to find out anyway, the side eyes sent Shinichiro’s way were hard to miss. “Madarame is my nii-san,” you nodded, reaching down to gently touch the remnants of your phone jiggling in your pocket. “He moved out from our family home years ago, but it seems like he’s back today for some reason.”
Hopping around the pavement, the man’s expression was twisted in pain radiating from his bruised foot, with Mikey still scowling at his own older brother. “Ah, i-in that case,” Shinichiro managed to grit out as he shuffled back to lean against the glass windows of his shop. “You should go home and see what he wants.”
That turned out to be a highly unpopular opinion, and the disagreement your friends felt necessary to voice was made obvious even with the respect the delinquents had for Shinichiro, Mikey being the loudest in his protest. 
“No!” “Absolutely not.” “Are you crazy?!” “NO!” The torrent of disagreements were certainly surprising to you, and you blinked owly as you were physically pulled further away from Shinichiro, as if the older man was going to personally rip you away from your friends and bring you home.
Shinichiro, however, was undeterred by the outburst that half the neighborhood must have heard, waving his arms downwards in an attempt to restore the peace, waiting for the chaos to die down before continuing, his smoking cigarette lightly gripped between two fingers. “As I was saying, you should go home and see what Shion wants first, since he is your older brother. And then Mikey and your friends can meet you after. I’ll settle things here and then send them over, alright?”
It was phrased as if it was a suggestion, but there was no negotiation to be had. Now that Shinichiro was present, he was in charge. 
You seemed hesitant, but ultimately agreed. That did make sense to you, given that if Shion was planning to move back home, there were arrangements that would have to be made, and changes in your schedule. And with how much your older brother and Toman seemed to already hate each other, it would be better to allow tempers to diffuse before combining both halves of your life. “Alright, I’ll head home first.”
“What if she isn’t safe at home, Shinichiro-san?” Draken pointed out, his arms crossed, Pah nodding sagely along, joined by the frantic bubbling and wailing from Kazutora, who had done another u-turn from badass delinquent to bubbling and wailing mess, attached to your side like superglue and refusing to let go.
Mitsuya straightened out your school uniform for you, a more levelheaded presence though still physically blocking any view you had of Koko further down the street. “Are you going to be safe?”
You paused, your head cocking as you considered what Mitsuya was asking, before slowly nodding. “Madarame-nii won’t hurt me,” you tried to assure, though you didn’t sound very confident yourself. “I should be fine.”
“They won’t be long here,” Shinichiro promised, grabbing Mikey by the back of his shirt as said boy attempted to make a break for you, before he turned to almost effortlessly snag Kazutora in the exact same manner.
Koko’s heart sank when you turned away from him, but with Shinichiro’s stronger-than-it-looked hand resting on his shoulder, Inupi was already distancing himself from the Toman boys, all he could do was watch you say your goodbyes to your Toman friends before disappearing round the bend, with no say on whether he would ever be able to see you again. Maybe, maybe all he needed was more money.
Fourteen years in the future, the atmosphere that blanketed the headquarters of the feared Tokyo Manji Gang syndicate was not too dissimilar to the delicate yet weighty tension outside of Shinichiro’s shop. It was by every account a gorgeous day outside, the bright afternoon sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows and catching in the gold trimmings of each and every fitting of the opulent home. Yet, the hallways of the penthouse were unusually empty of the usual black-tie suited gangsters and guards and the like that usually teemed this area, the deafening silence weighing down what was the epitome of luxury. But it was hardly a concerning issue to Kisaki as he stalked down the wide corridors, casting a shadow on the priceless art and other masterpieces as he swept past, the crystals that decorated the chandeliers hanging above chiming lightly as they jingled with the air conditioning. After all, he did know why everyone had been sent away, and he did hold a very slight responsibility for the cause.
His destination was at the end of the corridor, a simple white door fitted into wallpapered walls that stood out like a sore thumb amidst the lavishness, a curse from a different time that continued to haunt both him and Mikey. Because it wasn’t just the door that was a specter from the past, Kisaki knew. The sole rap on the door was a courtesy, and the suited man didn’t wait for a response to enter.
The room he stepped into looked ripped straight from a common suburban home, unfitting for a multimillion dollar house right in the heart of Tokyo, even less so for a yakuza boss with the entire underground world at his fingertips. Simple painted walls, a hardwood flooring, and well-worn furniture that had seen better days, things that Kisaki wouldn’t even give a second glance yet things that would get him shot between his eyes if his fingers lingered on them for a second too long. “Mikey,” Kisaki greeted, cutting a straight path to the single armchair turned to face away from the entrance.
There was no response from said man, abyss eyes staring blankly out clear, streakless windows into the open sky, though his gaze did turn to meet Kisaki’s as the door swung close with a soft click, the dragon tattoo decorating his scrawny neck contrasting greatly with his pale skin. A sky-high view of the city skyline worthy of the sky-high price, but again, not what he was here for. 
The Toman second-in-command held up a sheaf of papers, his other hand pushing up his glasses. “Need your sign-off on these.” It was rare for him to have to do such menial tasks as delivering paperwork - that is the sole purpose he pays for Mikey to have a dedicated secretary - but with it being this time of the year again, the reports were once more starting to be returned unsigned and unread.
Yet for all the effort Kisaki undertook to come here in person, it meant nothing to Mikey, the yakuza boss simply ignoring whatever his right-hand man had to say as he turned his gaze back out the window once more. The spectacled man tried again, taking a step closer. “Mikey,” he insisted, hand reaching out in an attempt to pass on the papers on hand. 
But it was the distinctive click of a gun’s safety being switched off that had Kisaki retract his hand as if burnt, the anger that had sparked in those usually empty eyes clear as Mikey swung around to glare at him. Throwing both arms up in surrender and under the other’s deadly scowl, he backed away slightly; an inch closer, and those reports would have brushed against the delicate decades-old fabric of the armchair. Your armchair. 
That heavy pressure was palpable as the silence weighed on the passing time. A heartbeat, then two. “What?” The biker gang president-turned-mafioso finally growled out, voice hoarse from lack of use - it must have been at least a week since he last spoke, Kisaki noted.
”Your sign-off.”
”No.”
Kisaki let out an exasperated sigh. “Mikey-“
”No,” Mikey repeated. “Leave.” And that was that, with said man refusing to look at him a moment longer, flopping back down into his armchair limply, the momentary energy from a rush of adrenaline dissipated back into the cocktail of depression and drugs the former delinquent had been indulging in.
There was nothing more that the second-in-command could do but to obey and leave. But he did understand the reason behind Mikey’s foul mood - it was just about a month out from both Shinichiro’s and your death anniversary, after all, even if both events were several years apart. Pausing at the threshold of the room, Kisaki used the moment it took to open the door to subtly glance around; it was rare that he ever had the chance to see the inside of this room. 
After all, the ghost that still haunted them was you. 
This was, or had been, your room, with every last item and detail having been painstakingly removed, transported and reinstalled when the yakuza boss had finally been convinced to relocate from what had been your home in the suburb for his own safety. That armchair, your bed and covers that Mikey still sleeps in, the wooden floor panels and the old plastered walls and ceilings. Even this blasted door which formally served as your bedroom door. It was all you. 
And your death hadn’t even been planned. Sure the spectacled man knew of your existence, but you had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had been caught up in an attack meant for another.
Carefully closing the door behind him, Kisaki shook his head, letting out the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The once strongman of Toman, the invincible delinquent, could conquer anything he set out to - the spiral into crime, the murder of his former friends, the whole of the Japan underground world. Yet twelve years on, Mikey just couldn’t let you go, long after you had breathed your last breath and torn the entire Toman apart.
The good thing was that at least Kisaki doesn’t exactly need the Toman boss’ approval to get things done around here; it’s far easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.
Back fourteen years in the past, you hardly had the time to worry about what time would eventually bring to your doorstep, knee-deep in your current problems. The moon hung mockingly high in the sky as you closed the door gently behind you, tweaking the knob slightly as it latched back into place to stop its usual click. Your efforts, however, were in vain, and you froze as the all-too distinctive sound echoed through the otherwise silent night. Carefully pressing one ear against the wooden front door, you held your breath, waiting to hear that distinct stomping of feet  down the stairs in your pursuit and the roar of your name.
The past weeks have been nothing short of hell. With your older brother Madarame temporarily moving back into your family home, it went without saying that you were no longer permitted to see your Toman friends going forward, let alone have them come over. Biting your lip, you would simply agree and say nothing more, careful to tread on eggshells around the volatile boy. With how closely your older brother has been monitoring your every move, you hadn’t dared to step out of line - you did previously have a front row seat as to what happened to the people around you the last time you dared to openly disobey.
Yet time and time again, it was Mikey and the others that persisted in swinging round to pick you up in the evenings against your brother’s orders in the one and half week since the fight, exactly as Shinichiro had predicted, even doing several very loud donuts that your neighbors would not appreciate outside your house just to make sure that Shion knew they were there. To your surprise, it was your brother who has done nothing more than scowl at you running out to meet them from the window like a disapproving mother before disappearing into the house, failing to even bring up your cheeky escapades the day after. Him and the Toman founders definitely weren’t on speaking terms, you determined, but there was more to it that either party was willing to say.
But all this was far from your concern at the moment. 
Tonight was one of those rare nights: with your brother fast asleep in his bed instead of out and prowling the streets, and the mobs of various-colored hair were nowhere to be seen lounging along your street, busy with a gang meet at Musashi Shrine. A rare chance to take advantage of this extraordinary situation where you have finally been left alone for just a small window of time. That is, as long as you didn’t get caught first - and your brother would 100% tattle on you to your friends if it would get you in more trouble.
The summertime heat was already in full-force by now at the start of August, and though the blazing temperature has at least cooled somewhat with the absence of the sun from the night sky, the humidity had yet to let up. Beads of perspiration that dotted your forehead trailed their way down your forehead as you waited, your heartbeat racing with every second ticking by. Was this it? 
A minute passed. Then two. And the inside of your house remained as quiet as the dead of night, the peace of your neighborhood unbroken. Heaving a sigh of relief, you quickly turned heel, fleeing down the lifeless main street before taking a corner at the first alley, coming face to face with a familiar grinning face waiting for you under the flickering light of a weary streetlamp. “Took you long enough,” Koko chuckled, both hands tucked into the pockets of his pants. 
“That’s not very nice!” You tried your best to put up an indignant front, but the facade collapsed into a wide grin too quickly for any part of it to be taken seriously. “Did I keep you waiting long, Koko? Sorry ‘bout that.”
The black-haired boy waved off your apologies, pulling himself up from the wall he had been leaning against. “Nah, it’s just been a few minutes,” he admitted. Offering a hand to you, you were glad to accept, gently intertwining your fingers with his as he led you through the dark alleyway, your duo’s footsteps barely echoing amidst the silent residential buildings. “Any place in mind?”
You shook your head. “Didn’t think about it cause I know you do.”
“Ah.”
You laughed as Koko rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. You did know him well enough to assume otherwise. Letting out a hum, you allowed the other to tug you closer to his side, to which you responded by resting your head on his shoulder. “So where are we going?”
If you could be honest with yourself for a moment, Koko was the breath of fresh air you had been looking for. It was a truly ungrateful feeling to harbor, especially towards your Toman boys who had been the ones to take you in and accept you as a friend, but he was an escape from the constant neediness and possessiveness. You did love them dearly, really, but sometimes it all just got too much for you, with the final straw being that particular incident outside of Shinichiro’s shop; you had never been frightened of Mikey or Baji or the others before, yet seeing them snap before your eyes at another that you held dear to you - it was all too much, on top of having to deal with new tension at home.
All you wanted was to be able to hang out with a friend you made yourself, someone you didn’t have to give constant attention to. A friend who wouldn’t put you on a pedestal.
“There’s a nice karaoke place in town,” Koko replied almost absentmindedly, his well-gelled hair bobbing slightly as it caught the occasional light as the two of you stepped out of the alleyway and back onto a main street. “We can take the train there.”
Your mind immediately thought to the last round your Toman boys had invited you to karaoke with them, the session ending with you having to cool heads when they started bickering about whose turn it was with the mic. “That’s a good idea,” you nodded. Those places were open pretty late, right? Plus a private room would make it a lot harder to get caught.
The area the two of you ended up in was a location slightly outside of town, which you recognized as not being too far from Shinichiro’s shop - the now-closed small convenience store was the same one that Mikey had been dragging you past just two weeks earlier. This was definitely a more uptown area compared to where the bike shop was, you noted, the stores though all closed at this hour were steadily getting larger and more luxurious the further you and Koko strolled down deserted streets.
“It’s so quiet,” you found yourself musing out loud, earning a soft exhale from the other. 
You rarely venture to this part of Tokyo City, it being well out of your usual sphere of life with good reason, though even with the handful of visits under your belt, the difference between day and night was still starkly visible. A flood of business suits and their occupants busy on the phone, with the rare occasional student weaving their way through the crowd, these streets were hardly catered to a younger audience, the prices well out of the range of what any student could afford, and you would assume the same, even more so in fact at night. The last thing you would expect to find here would be a karaoke, but perhaps you simply missed it before.
“This way,” Koko tugged you through an unassuming door, tucked neatly between two shopfronts and one you would have completely glazed over. Up a dimly lit stairway and with a light knock from your friend, the well-worn steel door opened to reveal a backdrop of high ceilings and a chandelier, framing an elegantly-dressed lady ushering the two of you in, the door swinging shut behind you with a quiet click. You felt your jaw dragging across the floor, eyes glancing around and taking in as much as you could. What even was this place?
Shiny, polished granite floors sparkled with specks of yellow reflected from the dim lights above, the walls trimmed tastefully with gold and decorated with flourished wallpapers. The crystal vase in which an enormous bouquet of flowers had been professionally arranged, atop a spotless dark wood counter, combined with the staff here wearing full suits, was all rather intimidating.
Vaguely noting Koko saying something to the lady who had welcomed you at the door, his words blending into the soft classical background music, you were only grounded by the fact that your hand was still laced with his as you shrunk shyly behind him. Needless to say, you felt extremely out-of-place, dressed in nothing more than your usual outing attire having expected a simple date. Were they going to kick you out?
Not just yet fortunately, as you were led down a velvet-walled hallway instead, lined with doors that ran the entire length, before being ushered into the room right at the end. Koko had stepped into the booth first, holding the door open as you quickly followed suit, and much to your relief, the inside looked similar enough to a regular karaoke room. Letting out a sigh of relief, you settled on the sofa, patting the area next to you. “I thought it was going to be so different,” you admitted, snuggling in close to Koko as he sat down next to you. “The outside looks so fancy.”
Said boy laughed, shaking his head as he leaned over to grab two microphones off their stands. “I thought it would be better since it's unlikely you’ll be found here.” By your Toman friends, that is.
“Not that I don’t like it,” you hastily added, accepting the device from Koko. “It’s lovely, thank you. And I doubt they know this place even exists.”
“No way,” the financier rolled his eyes, earning a giggle from you. That goes without saying. “Come on, pick a song, I’ll order us some drinks.”
Time slipped through your fingers, the minutes flying by without your notice. Though you barely had a sip of alcohol (Koko refused to let you have any more than a taste of his cocktail), you were sure that you were giddy enough from giggling the entire time, your newest plushie sitting snug on your lap. 
”I still can’t believe you managed to nail that song!” You laughed out, lightly tapping on the black-haired boy’s arm as you carefully stepped across the curb. “I sounded completely off, I swear.”
“No way,” Koko disagreed, a tinge of red brushed across both cheeks as his gaze fell away from yours, though from the alcohol or otherwise, you couldn’t quite tell. He has had several drinks, after all. “You were great.”
Definitely the alcohol, you mused to yourself, squeezing his hand lightly as you gracefully ignored his voice trailing-off. “Thank you for bringing me out tonight, Koko.” And you meant it - with everything that had been going on at home and with the Toman boys, you truly did need this break from the hum and drum of regular life, even if you didn’t know it before. “I really had fun.”
No response, and none was needed, the other only returning the squeeze of your hand, face still turned away from yours. Strolling down the quiet street, it was late into the night, way past the time that you were usually already tucked into bed, your lights turned off and usually accompanied by one (or more) of the Toman founders. Yet your life these past months have been anything but usual, and having been unable to see Koko without getting him into unmeasurable amounts of trouble that would most likely end up with him in the hospital, you did miss him dearly. You will deal with the consequences of a lack of sleep tomorrow, you determined.
The music of yester-hours still buzzing in your ears and a hum under your breath, it would have been a perfect ending to your night if all the excitement ended there.
“Hey assfaces!” 
A sudden loud voice from behind that reverberated across the silent night had you jump a foot into the air like a startled cat, and you whirled around to locate the source of the disturbance. Koko, though, seemed barely bothered, his light tugs at your hand urging you to keep walking before trouble found the two of you. Too little, too late; your paths were quickly being blocked by several punks with aggressive hairstyles that you quickly identified as delinquents, though they didn’t seem to have a uniform of any sort, with the attire consisting of a mix of ruffled school uniforms and streetwear. “Strolling through my territory, huh?!”
Your heart skipped a beat - did they know who you were? Were they looking for Koko? No, that couldn’t be it. You decided that being friendly couldn’t go wrong, maybe it’s just a case of mistaken identity. “Hello,” you greeted. “Can we help you?”
A jeer rippled through the crowd in response, and you shrunk back. That was obviously the wrong move. Worse still, your voice seemed to have triggered a memory recall. “I’ve seen you somewhere before,” the seeming group leader muttered, squinting as he leaned in towards you. 
The grip Koko had on your hand tightened ever so slightly even as the expression on said boy’s face remained relaxed, almost as if bored. He must have gone through this multiple times, you reckoned, as you tried to shift away from the other.
“Ah,” the recognition settled into the other’s eyes as he pushed his face into your personal space, and you recoiled at the spit flying out from his mouth at you. “It's the shitbag always hanging off of Mikey, aren’t ya you little thing?”
Uh oh.
Another wave of sneering washed through the gang, though this time, the scorn was audible.
“I got beaten up by those Toman fuckers last week!” “One of them burned my bike!” “He stole my lunch!”
Your heart dropped into your gut. Fuck. You never thought you would be recognized.
The head delinquent’s smirk only grew larger as the displeasure boiled over into calls for Toman’s death, and he made to grab at your arm. “You’re quite the cute thing. Those fuckers have good taste. I think I’ll have some fun fir-”
A loud crack! - and you whirled around to the sight of a delinquent crumpling to the ground, clearly having lost consciousness. And there was Koko, calmly withdrawing his fist, simply not having the disrespect. “I rather you pick on someone your own size,” he stated, as if it was another usual day.
Time seemed to have frozen for a second, with the rest of the delinquents present turning almost robotically to glance between Koko and their downed buddy, the moment bringing with it an unexpected peace. But alas, it did not last as pandemonium quickly broke back out, the hoodlums sent into an uproar. “I WANT BOTH OF THEM DEAD!” The gang leader roared.
Koko shoved you. “Run!” He yelled, as he started beating down whoever he could reach. “Get to safety!”
You took off, drawing half the crowd with you, that distinctive side-swept mob of black hair quickly disappearing behind a wall. Fuck.
Shit shit shit- your feet were all but flying over the pavement at this point as you sprinted down the street as fast as you could, taking random rights and lefts in an attempt to shake off your pursuers. But alas, enraged delinquents weren’t as easy to lose as you had hoped, and the stomp of their boots echoing behind you only ate away at your gut more and more. The light of the streetlamps overhead flashed and disappeared as you bolted through each and every circle of illumination, the environment all but a blur - you were sure you were completely lost at this point, though all your mind was urging you to just keep running.
What on earth were you going to do now? What could you do?
Your thoughts wandered back to Koko whom you had abandoned on the main street as you took another shark right, and your heart clenched, the guilt already starting to gnaw away at your gut. The last glimpse you had, he had been surrounded by so many of those fierce delinquents; yes, he had taken one of those builds down easily, but with opponents of such numbers? Maybe you should have stayed, but you didn’t want Koko to have to not only fight but also watch over a useless you. And, you tried to reason, with you running off, you at least have managed to draw some of the crowd away to chase after you.
But now that you were on the run, easily recognized by the self-declared rivals of the Tokyo Manji Gang, you were no doubt only creating more trouble for Mikey and the rest of your friends. No matter what you decided, no matter what you did, you only seemed to drag more and more people you claim to care about into the mess that was your life. 
Turning down yet another side alley, your lungs were beginning to burn from effort, every breath you took becoming heavier and heavier as your calves yearned for relief. You couldn’t recall the last time you had to assert such consistent effort, but you urged yourself on, forcing yourself past your limits as the adrenaline rush slowly ebbed away. You needed a place to hide and rest, somewhere safe - but where could you go? 
Bursting out back onto a main street, it was a familiar white awning that caught the corner of your eye, and though now folded up, you could recognize the partially hidden words and logo anywhere. S.S Motor…you weren’t sure if anyone was still in the shop at this time of night, but it wasn’t like you really had any other choice now. The white awning was calling to you as if it was your salvation as you closed the distance in under a minute, slamming straight into the locked front door. Damn. The door wasn’t going to give way no matter the amount of desperate rattling, and you should have known better, yet here you were, wasting precious time.
Letting go of the worn brass handle, it was the bloodthirsty calls for your blood growing nearer and nearer, accompanied by thunderous footsteps, that had you hesitate to leave the minute safety that the indent of the shop doors allowed you, with each precious second passing decreasing the amount you would have had to continue your escape. But even if you wanted to, your body was already at the point of giving up - you were physically incapable of running any further, your legs urging you to give up as you doubled over, pressing your hands against your knees in a bid to catch your breath. This was it, you supposed. You were going to make more trouble for Mikey and the rest, and probably get beat up in the process.
You took a deep breath, steeling your nerves, and turned around. No, this was not the end. You weren’t going to give up so easily and disgrace your Toman friends here. You had fists just like them after all, you could at least put up some resistance.
The click of a lock opening had relief that flooded into your system when your name was called by a recognizable name. Looking down at you with furrowed abyss eyes was none other than Shinichiro, that signature bluish-gray overalls of his tied still around his waist, spanner in hand. “What ya doing here at this time?”
”Chased,” was all you could hurriedly say in the time you had, as you glanced backwards at a roar that sounded just a turn away. “CanIcomeinplease?”
Shinichiro seemed to understand almost immediately. “Hide and call the police,” he grimaced, holding the door open and allowing you duck in under his arm. But much to your surprise, the older man didn’t follow you inside, instead stepping outside to block the path and line of sight of the horde of delinquents who have finally caught up to you. “Can I help you?”
Scurrying behind a motorcycle and rolling up into a ball in an attempt to make yourself smaller, your shaking hands could barely grasp your small phone without almost instantly dropping it, and you struggled to make sense of the keypad through teary eyes as you followed the commotion outside through the commotion alone, scared to give any visible indication of your presence to the angry gangsters outside.
Demands for Shinichiro to step aside, to bring you out to them, the threats of death and torture, and all the while the man was attempting to calm the mob and diffuse the situation. He was depending on you, you tried to tell yourself, finally punching in the emergency hotline, the dialing and connecting noises sounding as if they were echoing through the whole shop and not just in your ear, as if those ruthless hooligans outside could hear.
But they must have sensed your panic, your fear like a predator in the dark woods. A scuffle, and your heart sank like an anchor as a loud clunk rang out through the dead silence of the night, followed by the unmistakable sound of a body hitting the ground. Grabbing the nearest tool, you flung yourself out from your hiding spot, and sprinted towards the shop exit.
Your hands were still shaking as the blue and red lights of emergency responders illuminated the once-quiet neighborhood around you, the foil blanket that the paramedics had wrapped around you doing little to stop the cold from seeping in. Seated just outside of the parameter of the yellow crime scene tape that now lined the parameter of S.S Motor, you barely registered the policeman attempting to talk to you to get your witness statement, his words flowing like water past you, reverberating into an inaudible distant mess in your head. Those lifeless eyes were all you could see, that accusatory stare that haunted you no matter how hard you tried to push it away. The ambulance had already taken your victim away, the first responders claiming that he was still breathing and that they could still save him, but Shinichiro-san? 
He was already cold when the first sirens arrived.
And it was in this broken state that Mikey finally stumbled across you, his phone gripped tight in one hand. Black, empty eyes wide with what could only be shock as he took in the chaos that had unfolded outside of his older brother’s shop, his gaze eventually falling on you, a trembling and responseless form on the sidewalk, a splatter of blood across your once-pristine clothes. In an instant, the Toman President had pulled you to your feet and straight into a tight hug, your face pressed tight into the crook of his neck, much to the surprise of the officer. 
He didn’t need to say more. The last of whatever control you had left fell apart, and the tears trailed down your face, the hiccups uncontrollable. “M-mikey,” you wailed into his skin, your fingers gripping the back of his shirt as the past hour flashed in the back of your eyes. “I-I’m-”
“What happened?” The blond-haired boy’s hair was soft, hoarse, the disbelief clearly tinting his words. It couldn’t be Shinichiro underneath that cover, could it? It couldn’t be. But that call, this scene.
“I killed him,” you whispered out, pulling away, as you looked back down at your trembling hands. “H-he attacked Shinichiro-san, so I…I-”
There was only one covered body, yet two weapons. Mikey pulled away, eyes staring at you, trying to read your thoughts. You couldn’t have killed Shinichiro-san; so who? 
Those five minutes were burned into your mind. You standing from behind the motorbike to find one of the delinquents with a blood-splattered steel pipe in hand, and Shinichiro sprawled out on the pavement right in front of his shop, the blood trickling down the side of his head; something washing over you as you had grabbed the heavy wrench with two hands and bursting through the shop doors, swinging the tool with all your might. The connecting blow that reverberated through your bones, and the other continuing to stand for a moment longer, swaying, staring blankly at you before crumpling to the floor. The rest of the ruffians dispersed as the authorities approached, leaving you behind trying desperately to administer first aid and CPR to Shinichiro, all the while fervently trying to ignore the other boy downed by your hand.
“I killed him,” you mumbled again, your voice haunted as the tears flowed once more. “I-I didn’t mean to- I swear-”
But the last thing Mikey could care about now was some nobody. “What happened to Shinichiro?” He repeated, this time more firmly, both hands gripping you and pinning your arms to your side. “Why him?”
“Protecting me. Th-they’ve seen me with Toman…”
Mikey audibly snarled. “And why were you here? Why aren’t you at home?!” The boy all but shouted at you, shaking you vigorously. You couldn’t blame him. It was all your fault.
Your mind jumped to Koko, where you had left him fighting that group of gangsters back along the shopping street. You couldn’t get another into trouble - not when you had committed the ultimate scene. And with the turmoil boiling in your stomach, you did something you never thought you had the stomach to. The tears started once more as you pressed your face into Mikey’s jacket, fist clenching around the white fabric. “Was looking for a job so I-I can move out,” the lie slipped out from your lips, each word burning your tongue as you mumbled out. “Th-they said they pay well.”
A murderer. You thought you would be better, better than the clusterfuck that was your family. You had tried to be better, striving to be kind, thoughtful, open-hearted. Yet here you were, you thought bitterly. The rotten apple doesn’t fall far from the tree after all.
The policeman seemed to have heard enough, one strong hand coming to rest on your shoulder as the other shook Mikey off of you. “You need to come with me to the station.”
A liar and a murderer.
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dragon-kazansky · 21 hours
Text
Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Thirteen - Passionate
♡♡♡
A garden party was a nice occasion. The joys of being outdoors while socialising with dear friends had a calming and charming air about it. You found it rather pleasant being in the outdoors.
The flowers smelled wonderful, and you couldn't help making mental notes of some of the flower arrangements for, perhaps, future uses.
As you stroll, you come across the Bridgertons. You smile at Violet as you get closer, though she is talking to Eloise, who sounds less than pleased with the topic of conversation. You decide to narrowly miss this conversation for now and walk past them to where Benedict and Anthony were talking to a couple of young ladies.
Both men seem to perk up at your appearance beside them.
"Hello," you smile at the pair.
"Good afternoon," Anthony smiles back.
"Enjoying the fresh air?" Benedict asks, also smiling. Smiles all around, how joyous.
"Yes, very. This is lovely."
Anthony waves over a servant with a tray of lemonade and hands you a glass. You take it with a soft thank you, missing the look Benedict gives his brother. Anthony elects to ignore Benedict as he smiles at you again. You sip the lemonade.
The sound of someone clinking their glass to signal attention has everyone turning around to look at Colin Bridgerton.
"Can I have your attention?" He asks, looking around at everyone.
"What's he doing?" You ask quietly to the brothers beside you.
"No idea," Anthony mutters.
"I would like to make a small but important announcement," Colin declares. He is standing next to Marina Thompson. "I have happy news to impart. I have asked Miss Marina Thompson to be my wife and she has accepted."
You nearly choke on your lemonade. Benedict and Anthony look at each other. Anthony, in particular, looks less than pleased by this.
People clap around them. You clap for appearance sake, but you look up at Anthony. "Did you know?"
"No."
Anthony steps forward to talk to his mother. You can't hear what they're saying. You look up at Benedict. "I wasn't even aware your brother was courting."
"Neither was I." He says with a little shrug.
Everyone moves to go congratulate the couple. As you pass Anthony, you look up at him. He offers you his arm and you both approach Colin and Marina.
You could feel him seething behind his calm exterior.
After the party, Anthony takes Colin into his study to talk to him. You have no idea what they discuss, but you can take a pretty good guess.
♡♡♡
The next morning, you went to the Bridgerton house to see Violet. After Colin's unexpected announcement, you wanted to know all was well with the rest of the family. They were already without a sister now. They did not need to lose Colin so soon, surely.
Lady Bridgerton was most pleased to see you at her door. She told you they hadn't even started breakfast yet and invited you in. Benedict was there with the two youngest siblings. You smile at him as you enter. He smiles back softly, seemingly pleased to see you.
"Take a seat," Violet says kindly.
You sit next to Gregory, opposite Hyacinth, who sits beside Benedict. The eldest son at the table hasn't torn his gaze from you at all.
"Tea, ma'am?" The butler asks.
"Yes, please."
A cup is poured for you.
"Are you hungry?" Violet asks.
"No. I ate at home. Thank you, though." You smile at her. She returns the smile and picks up the paper in front of her. "How are you all?" You ask.
"Uh, well," Benedict nods. You smile at him.
"Violet?" You looked at her.
"Hm?" She looks up from her paper. "Oh, uh, yes." She nods, and then lowers her gaze back to the paper.
Benedict gives you a look that you understand clearly enough. His mother has been better.
"I suppose it's too soon to hear from Daphne yet?" You ask.
"I'm sure they'll have made it by now. They'll be enjoying their honeymoon period, no doubt." Benedict chuckles softly.
You smile softly and look into your teacup. "I wonder what it's like..."
"The honeymoon period?" Benedict asks, looking up at you with slightly flushed cheeks.
"Being married," you correct him.
"Oh..."
Violet looks up at you with a small smile, her eyes sparkling. "When you marry your best friend, it's the most wonderful feeling of all."
You smile at her. "I want that."
"Youshall have it. One day, dear."
You are grateful for Violet and her kindness. You've never known a more warm and welcoming woman. Your mother was nice, certainly, but she was eager just to see you wed. Violet made marriage sound magical.
You sip your tea and listen to Hyacinth bicker with Gregory over a ribbon. Benedict tries to be the middleman and solve this peacefully. You chuckle at their antics. Gregory tries to get you to defend him, but you put your hands up and explain that you weren't here when the crime was supposedly committed. Benedict also comes to your rescue.
You smile at each other.
Colin walks in.
Conversation becomes quieter. You pour yourself another cup of tea and avoid looking up at Colin. You feel like this may be a little awkward. You grab a slice of toast for the centre of the table and butter it quietly, needing to keep your hands busy.
Benedict seems to realise what you're doing and says nothing to you.
"Good morning." Colin greets his family.
"Morning, brother."
Colin nods to you, too. You offer him a smile which you then hide behind the toast you had buttered.
"Colin, your engagement is in Whistledown!" Hyacinth exclaims cheerfully.
"Hyacinth!" Eloise scolds. You hadn't even seen her lingering in the back of the room.
"What? It is!"
"Very well. Everyone out, I think." Benedict says as gently as he can.
"Yes," Violet mutters.
Benedict calls your name softly. You nod and down the rest of your tea, taking the other half of the toast with you as you rise with the others. Eloise grabs her plate and glides past you quietly.
Colin approaches his mother as you all leave the room. When the door shuts behind you, yo turn to Benedict. "Will he be alright?"
"I'll let you know after."
You follow him down the hall.
The two younger siblings follow their sister into the drawing room. Benedict reaches out his hand to grab lightly at your arm, stopping you from going any further.
"Could I... show you something?" He asks.
You look at him, brow slightly furrowed, and nod. He smiles, that crooked little smile of his and guides you down the opposite hall, leading you toward an empty room. There was minimal furniture in there, which confused as to why he brought you here.
"I like to come in here for some quiet." He explains.
He offers you a seat on one of the chairs in the middle of the room and disappears for a brief moment. You look around the room as you wait. When he returns, he's carrying something.
"I don't usually show other people my work, for, I admit, I am not happy with it, but I would like to share a piece of me with you." He says, placing the book on the table between you.
For a moment, he sits there with his hands planted firmly on top of the book and then pushes it closer to you. You reach out and take the book carefully. His hand slowly slides from the cover, and you watch him become riddled with anxiety and nerves as his passion lays slowly in your hands.
You turn your eyes to the book and gently curl your fingers around the cover, pulling it open slowly, hoping not to disturb the pages. You start from the beginning. Mere scribbles of a person. You turn the pages slowly. Different angles. Different body parts up close. Eyes, noses, hands, lips. Nearly 6 whope pages are focused on hair styles on ladies. There are pages focusing on the folds of clothes and how they hand. Particularly dresses.
You browse the sketchbook slowly and carefully, taking I never details.
There is some evidence of torn pages within the book. You wonder how many times he sketched something and torn it out with anger with displeasure.
"Well?" He asks after a long pause of silence.
You lift your eyes to meet his. "You drew all of these?"
"Yes..."
You cast your eyes on the book again, admiring a sketch of a hand up close. The long fingers, the bend in the knuckles, the lines on the palm.
"You're very talented, Benedict."
You hear the breath leave his lips and look up to see the way his eyes light up with surprise. He clearly was expecting a very different comment.
"You think so?"
"Yes." You nod. "Very."
Benedict seems to relax immensely as he looks at you and then sits back in his chair, looking relieved.
"I want to create something people will remember and talk about for years to come," he confesses. "But I cannot. I do not possess such a talent."
"Nonsense."
"No, really." He leans forward again.
"Can I ask why you decided to show me this?" You ask, looking at the open book again.
"I trust you." He speaks softly. "Are we not friends?" He asks.
"Of course."
Hs lips twitch into a smile. "I trust you," he repeats.
"Well, I'm very glad you do." You close the book and hand it back carefully. "I trust that you will create something spectacular one day."
You had no idea how much your words meant to him or for how long he would end up carrying those words with him. If you could see the artist he wants to be inside, then surely one day it shall come true. Benedict swears on his heart that anything you day could become true just because they are spoken from your lips.
He hadn't even noticed his eyes had glanced at your lips, not until his eyes met your eyes again. You don't seem to have noticed.
"I think I've taken up enough of your family's time now. I mostly wanted to check on Violet after Colin's rather abrupt proposal."
"Yes..." Benedict wasn't entirely certain what you had just said, he just agreed. His mind was reeling.
Had he really just stared at your lips without realising he was doing it. Why does he feel the urge to look at them again?
You stand before he can get the chance.
"See me out?"
He snaps back to reality and stands quickly. "Yes."
You chuckle and begin to leave the room. Benedict follows you, pretending nothing is amiss. He was confused by his own behaviour.
You assumed it was a Bridgerton trait, if nothing else.
Benedict shows you to the door, and you step outside. Your carriage awaits. You turn and smile at Benedict.
"Do not give up."
"Hm?" He looks at you confused.
"Your art. Do not give up. One day, your work will hang with the greats."
Your words set his heart fluttering. He takes a deep breath and nods, not tristing his voice. You chuckle again and bid him farewell as you walk away.
Benedict closes the door and turns slowly, looking at the empty hall of the house.
"I need a drink."
"It's barely 9," Eloise says from the open door of the drawing room.
Benedict nearly jumped out of his skin.
♡♡♡
@callmemana - @lilscast - @imgondeletedis - @benedictbridgertonss - @clownsdiehard - @wxnterwidow333
@sillynilly27 - @autumn-slaves - @ben-has-arrived - @ajdelilah - @aadu2173
@booknerdlife - @tamlinrose - @sarahskywalker-amidala - @cheryyluv - @louschan - @lou-la-lou - @cultish-corner
@hopshusushi - @katherinejess - @nannabug - @afunkyfreshblog - @f0x33 - @dd122004dd -
@jupitervenusearthmars - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @captainlunaxmen - @winchestersimpalababy - @acupnoodle
@ms-fandomgirl - @fablesrose - @anyaisinyourcloset - @meowzerzstuff - @orchiidflwer - @bespinnn - @crazymar15
@cosmixstar - @bree3parchen - @berrnuu - @biancamde - @charmainemaclendon - @pinkpantheris - @krismdavis
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maybege · 3 days
Text
What If - Part 3
Summary: The more you get to know Paz Vizsla, the more you fall for him.
Pairing: alpha!Paz Vizsla x omega!fem!Reader
Wordcount: 5.8k | Rating: E (18+ only!)
Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, explicit sexual content, size kink (Paz is big-big), semi-public sex, thigh riding, cockwarming, dirty talk, idiots in love
Whoop whoop! Another weekend, another part! This is, technically, part 2.2 with some more smut, some fluff, some idiots in love and a very special adorable guest star that could not miss if we want to talk about Paz in S3. Thank you so much to everyone who wrote a comment or reblogged the story so far, I really appreciate it and I hope that you enjoy this part too. The next (and last) part will be out either next week or the week after, just because I need to channel all the angst lol
Again: Just a little reminder, that this is not strictly adhering to canon and I am just roughly imagining what actually happened during these episodes.
masterlist | crossposted on AO3
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You woke up alone the next morning, the sun already high in the sky. It was later than usual but you felt so blissed out, you could not really bring yourself to care. Your entire body felt deliciously exhausted and as you stretched your arms over your head, letting out a big yawn, you realized that you had slept better in this stranger’s (though could still call Paz Vizsla a stranger now?) bed than in the last few years in your own cot.
There was a fresh bowl of fruit on the desk and this time you did not hesitate to devour the tasty berries which you knew he had meant for you. The sheer fact alone that Paz Vizsla had organized breakfast for you made your heart race.
The sun was out in full force by the time you left the ship. You could see people milling about, carrying crates this and that way and for a moment you felt bad that you had slept the day away instead of helping.
But then you thought about how your job for these few days was to be a calmer. And if your alpha (yours) was calm and happy and made your heart skip a beat, then you had done your job by keeping the peace and prolonging Axe Wove’s life for yet another day.
Rounding the ship to get to the inventory, you passed by another ramp, this one almost completely abandoned except for a small figure that huddled at the entrance. When you came close enough, you realised it was a child. Still helmeted with the same blue as Paz’s clan, but certainly a child if the frail shoulders and little hands were anything to go by.
For a moment, you hesitated. You didn’t know what it was like in their clan but in yours, it was rare to see a foundling on their own and even rarer to leave them on their own if they were upset. So you approached him.
“Hi,” you greeted the child sitting, “You okay?”
You could hear sniffles under his helmet and your heart broke. Clearly, they were not okay.
“Yeah,” the boy mumbled, turning away from you, “Go away.”
Forgotten were the happy activities of last night and the way Paz Vizsla could make you smile even in his absence. “Were – do you maybe want to talk to one of the elders of your tribe?”
He shook his head fervently.
“Sometimes it helps me to speak about it with a friend,” you suggested lightly, “Do you have a friend you want to talk to? I could get them if you like?”
“I don’t need your help,” he spat suddenly and you recognized the hurt in his voice, your mouth grimacing at the pain he must feel. And you were not about to abandon a hurt child, no matter how angry they might be.
True to your feelings, it did not take long before he spoke up. His voice was much softer than before.
“They said I could not be a good Mandalorian because –“ he shook his head again, folding his arms over his knees.
“Because?” you asked carefully, debating whether any of the clans might be offended if you consoled this child. But in the end, you decided, you all just valued the foundlings’ happiness.
“Because I have never been to Mandalore.”
You hummed in acknowledgement.
“Most of the people here have never been to Mandalore,” you explained gently, “I haven’t been either and you don’t see me being treated like I’m no Mandalorian, right?”
He tilted his head, musing over your words. You could see how he was debating your helmetless existence and not for the first time did you wonder what it was like to grow up in one of the more stricter tribes. Whether their foundlings grew up knowing that there were other ways – many ways, actually – to the same goal.
“My dad has been to Mandalore,” he said suddenly with the pride only a child could have.
“Really?” you asked, “And he never told you that you need to have been on Mandalore to be a true Mandalorian?”
He shook his head eagerly. “No, he said I am a true Mandalorian no matter where I was or not. The important thing is to honour the way of the warriors,” he quoted his father with a deeper voice and you smiled at his antics.
“Your father sounds like a very wise man,” you nodded, “And don’t you think he would know a bit more about being Mandalorian than your fellow foundlings?”
That seemed to give him pause. “Yes, my buir is very smart,” he said thoughtfully, “And I don’t think that Loren and Say’na have been to Mandalore either, actually.”
“See?” you nudged him playfully, “They don’t know what they’re talking about either. We are all just on our journey to become Mandalorian.”
The boy nodded, clearly in a cheerier mood than before. Then he turned to you fully. “I am Ragnar,” he inclined his head, “This is the way.”
Recognizing it as his greeting, you repeated your name and the phrase,
“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked eagerly, “Have you dreamt about it? I have. I think it is going to be full of the highest mountains and no caves in sight, I don’t like caves. And waterfalls too! Buir said he saw a waterfall as a child and he promised one day he would show me.”
Grinning at his excited chatter, you listened carefully to the pictures he painted with his words. Of snow-capped mountains and rain forests so full of rain, there would never be any deserts in sight. (Turns out Ragnar did not like deserts nor the creatures that lived in them.)
“What do you think Mandalore will look like?” he asked again after a while and despite the blacked-out visor on his face, you could picture his eyes twinkling in delight.
“I think it will be full of grassy hills and lakes,” you revealed, “When I was little, I always dreamed that I could wake up to the sound of waves and take a swim whenever I wanted. Has your buir told you what Mandalore is like?”
“Buir does not like to talk about it,” he shrugged, “But I am sure if you would ask him nicely, he would tell you! He always says I'm too small for that stuff but you are big! Though my buir is bigger, he is the best warrior in our tribe and one day, I am just going to be like –“
“Who do we have here?”
“Buir!” the boy called excitedly and you watched with utter surprise and fascination as he jumped up straight into the arms of the warrior who had kept you company the last few nights.
“You are – He is – What –“
“Getting all speechless again, ‘mega?” the large man joked, “Seems I have that kind of effect on you, huh?”
You were so flustered you did not know what to say. Instead, you just snapped your mouth shut as your brain worked overtime. Paz had a son. Ragnar was Paz’s son. Paz was Ragnar’s father.
Now that you saw them together, their helmets the same colour as the night sky, you wondered how you had not realized it earlier. But Paz had never mentioned a child. And as you watched Paz set Ragnar down again, a heavy hand on his shoulder, you wondered whether Ragnar might have a mother somewhere that still played a role in Paz’s life.
The thought made you feel strangely queasy.
“Buir, she has never seen Mandalore before either,” Ragnar announced, looking up at his father, “Maybe I can be a good Mandalorian after all.”
“How many times have I told you your value as a warrior quality is not dependent on whether you have been to Mandalore,” he chided his son gently in a way that parents often did when their children finally had a revelation after years of them telling them the exact same thing.
“Sometimes it helps to hear it from someone else,” you said quietly. Paz’s gaze snapped to you and you swallowed.
“I suppose that is right,” he said and as Ragnar decided to jog back to his now-again friends to play, Paz came to stand in front of you in all his glory, covering the sun from your face.
“Ragnar is very sweet,” you started shyly, “I didn’t know he – or that you – He … he is very proud to be Mandalorian.”
“That he is,” your alpha replied, “Some clans don’t see him as my son ever since I found him all alone but to me and mine he is my son in all the ways that matter.”
“Our clan has the concept of foundlings, too, you know?” you smiled, your heart bursting in your chest at how protective he was over his son, “He is very proud of his father.”
“And I am very proud of my son,” he replied, “He, uh, he only recently had his helmet ceremony. And it got interrupted in a – he – let’s just say there is nothing I would not do for him. A world without him is no world for me.”
“And that is all that matters,” you reassured him, your heart skipping a beat while your head tortured you with images of what he would be like as a father of your children.
“Did you sleep well?”
You shook your head slightly, shaking off the question of whether he would mind being the father of your future children, “I did, though I am a bit sore.”
His hands immediately appeared at your side, gently helping you up as if soreness rendered you incapable of carrying your weight on your legs. You snorted, feverishly trying not to think about how the heat of his body seeped through your clothes, “Alpha, it is not that bad.”
“I like it when you call me alpha,” he rumbled, not seeming the least bit worried about his concern for you, pulling you closer so he could wrap his arms around you properly, “You did it last night … maybe you can do it tonight too.”
Your core felt molten at the thought of being in his arms for the rest of the day and you were sure he could see how your chest was heaving in excitement. Though as much as you wanted to, there was a tiny voice in the back of your head that made you hesitant.
“I am not sure if I can leave again,” you spoke out loud, “It … Would you truly be okay with me joining your clan quarters for the night again?”
“I don’t think it will come to that conversation at all,” Paz said, his hand sweeping over your back, “The council has decided,” he announced quietly, “We will make our way to Mandalore by nightfall. And if you are comfortable with the thought, I'd like to share my cot with you.”
*
The ship offered no privacy.
While Paz did have his private room –  the one you had spent the previous night in – getting all clans onto one or two ships, meant having to share and rethink the limited space available. As a sign of respect to the clan leader, Paz Vizsla offered Sluice his room and she accepted.
This meant that Paz, along with his fellow warriors, was assigned one of the bunk beds. And one of them meant one of 64 in a large narrow room with too high ceilings and four bunks stacked on top of each other.
The worry in his voice was clear, even through the helmet, when you helped him carry his personal belongings (including a very soft blanket you distinctly remembered cuddling into), assuring you that you could change your mind. But the thought of leaving Paz had not occurred to you once and when you pointed out that several calmers had joined their alphas in the large room and none of them seemed to mind, his shoulders had visibly relaxed.
“We will find privacy in other corners of the ship,” he had promised you, his voice low and deep and sending shivers down your spine.
Only you had not expected him to find privacy so soon.
You were walking down one of the abandoned hallways of the ship, trying to get a feel for the layout so you would not get lost on your way to the cantina again. The negotiations had been postponed once more and with Paz in his polished armour, bent over a strategy table, you decided to flee the cockpit so Chants could not see just how needy you were for your alpha.
Your alpha.
You smiled, the warm feeling in your chest expanding until your entire body felt warm and cosy, thrumming at the thought of him. Could it be that Paz Vizsla really was your alpha? You had never expected to find what some of the elders had called true mates: a person – an alpha – that was just perfect for you and for whom you were perfect. And while you were not sure if you were truly someone that he would want forever, you were getting surer and surer that he was that someone for you.
You were just about to turn a corner when a hand closed around your upper arm and drew you back. Instincts kicked on and you squeaked, flinging your leg back to try and kick back into your attacker but they turned you around so quickly, you had no chance. Within moments, your back was pressed into the cool metal wall behind you, with no option of escape. And a blue helmet entered your vision. “Paz,” you gasped just before his hand came down on your throat. He was not wearing his gloves, which meant he must have planned it all beforehand. You wondered when. And how. And if he spent more time thinking about you than you thought (an idea that filled you with an immense sense of hope) but all thought evaporated when his thumb brushed over your scent gland.
Fuck, you were needy for him.
“Is that okay?” he checked in, his voice rough. His helmet came down against your forehead and you could sense him looking at you so intensely you felt like you could never hide from him. “Wanted to surprise you.”
You nodded, pressing your thighs together when his fingers twitched on your throat. He was so in control of you, of the situation, it felt like you could flood your underwear just upon his command.
“You're not wearing gloves,” you whispered.
He hummed, his thumb scenting you again, “No, I wanted to feel you.”
“O-okay,” you gasped, writhing against him. His thick thigh slipped between your legs and your toes were barely touching the floor when he angled his leg just so. He made you dangle, the only things holding you being his hand on your throat and his thigh on your pussy.
And you did not want to have it any other way.
You did not have to see him to know he had a very amused grin on his face. “You like my armour,” he stated, his legs shifting and you squirmed, “Let’s see how much.”
“Wh-What?”
“Ride my thigh, omega,” he instructed, his fingers flexing around your throat, “When I step foot onto our home I want to have my armour marked by your come.”
“Don’t – don’t you want to fill me up again?” you asked, trying to tease him even though you felt like you were in no position to tease at all. More like begging. Was it too early to beg? “Or – or have me cockwarm you?” you added as an afterthought.
“Who says I cannot do all of these?” he chuckled, bumping you on his leg so high it put pressure on the part you needed most, “After all we still have at least a dozen hours before us.”
Your hands flew to his shoulders, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you somewhat steady. Almost immediately, you slipped your fingers to his cowl almost immediately and Paz did not stop you when your fingertips managed to find his warm skin, brushing over it until you found his scent gland.
“I don’t see you grinding yet,” he said instead, angling his knee even higher and you squeaked, “Don’t you want to be a good girl for me?”
Of course, you did. And he knew it.
With your dress hiked up over his leg, you could feel the coldness of his beskar through your underwear. And what might have been a turn-off under normal circumstances, with Paz towering over you, shifting his leg again as a reminder of his presence, you found that it turned you beyond belief.
You started moving your hips slowly, though you felt like you were failing miserably at exuding any kind of sex appeal. With your feet having no real contact with the ground and Paz fixing your head so you would not lose his gaze, you felt anything but graceful. But he did not change his stance, nor his grip on your body. While he kept one large hand on your throat, his thumb consistently brushing over your scent gland, the other wandered to the cleavage of your dress.
As soon as he started pulling the delicate neckline down, baring you to his eyes so slowly, your breath got heavier until it just got stuck in your throat. You wanted to please him, stars, how you wanted to please him. And you knew that he liked you, knew that he found you beautiful and yet, at this moment, it was only his mumbles “Stars, you’re so beautiful” that had you release your breath.
And worry about other things.
“What if someone sees?”
“Then they’ll only see my back,” he replied, his fingers playing with your tits and tracing over your pebbled nipples, “And if they tried to see anymore, they will have to deal with the consequences.”
Something in his tone, the possessive undertone, paired with his scent, caused a fresh wave of arousal in you. You could feel your panties sticking to your folds, the wetness gathering on the delicate fabric. There was something slightly humiliating about your position like this, out in the open, and yet you could feel no shame.
Not when Paz made you feel like the most beautiful omega ever to exist.
Soon, you grew more confident in your movements, grinding properly against the hard beskar plate. It was so unforgiving and Paz just kept on playing with your tits, gently plucking at your nipples like it did not make you tremble in his arms. “Could play with these all night,” he murmured, “One day I am gonna have your cock warm me all naked so I get to take my time. Just going to play with these until you’re blind from pleasure.”
You wanted to remind him that the last time he took his time, you had ended up being unable to speak and move. (Though the sleep afterwards had been fantastic.) But the words got stuck in your throat when his hand left your throat (and, regrettably, your scent gland) and pulled your panties aside.
Already, you could feel how drenched you were but could not find it in you to be embarrassed. Instead of ceasing your grinding at the thought of someone accidentally passing by, all you could do was hope that his finger might catch on your clit. They did not. Though knowing that he stared at where your folds left races of wetness on his made you even hotter. Your breaths grew heavier, the knot in your core tighter, and as you thought about cockwarming him until he filled you up again and again, you lost all inhibition.
Tightening your arms around his neck, you hoisted yourself up and closer to his chest. The proximity allowed you to pulse your hips and stars, did it feel good, the way your folds and your clit bumped over the texture of his thigh plate. You wondered how the design came to be – and although you were very sure that this particular situation hadn’t been considered when forging it, you still sent a silent thank you to whoever had made this piece. A few thrusts later, the beskar had warmed with your touch and with your increasing arousal it also became a much easier glide.
“Look at you,” Paz rumbled, clearly pleased, “Marking me for everyone to see. Grinding yourself on my armour like it is my cock.”
His words sparked a sudden idea. The kind of idea that made your heart race and your brain fuzzy but something in your chest told you that Paz would love it just as much as you.
With surprising determination, you surged forward and attached your mouth to the sliver of skin you had freed. His skin was warm and salty under your tongue as you sucked on his scent gland. His taste exploded on your tongue and you moaned, feeling your pussy clench around nothing.
Paz grunted, his body slamming you into the wall, punching the air out of your lungs.
“Fuck,” he growled, his hands gripping your hips and taking control of your movements. You could feel his bulge against your leg and knowing he was as affected by your pleasure made your heart flutter.
It did not take long for you to completely come apart in his arms. With his cock straining against his codpiece, your clit rubbing over his thigh plate your almost-but-not-quite exposure to anyone who might walk by, it had only been a matter of time.
You moaned against his neck, shaking in his arms as your walls clenched around nothing, wishing for his cock inside you.
“You're doing so good for me,” he growled, “Mark me, sweetheart. Do it.”
Your teeth just barely grazed his scent gland when you had the realization that, yes, this was what you wanted him to do. You wanted him to mark you, you wanted to mark him.
You wanted this man to be your alpha.
Another wave of pleasure rolled over you, making you whimper in the cold silence of the hallway. Your entire body just sagged into him, completely pliant for the man in front of you. And Paz was there to catch you, holding you up against him.
“Good omega,” he whispered, as he slowed your movements, gradually working you down from your high, “You are amazing.”
“Hmmm,” you hummed against his neck, brushing your nose over his scent gland, “You smell amazing.”
“Cause I smell like you,” he whispered, “C’mon, let’s get out of here before someone sees.”
“They won't though,” you slurred, your tongue still heavy in your mouth, “Cause you won't let them.”
He paused, his hands brushing from your shoulders to your hands. Slowly, his fingers intertwined with yours as if he were afraid you would run away if he were to touch you too soon. With him standing in front of you, his leg no longer between yours, gravity did its thing as your dress fell over your legs, hiding the sticky mess between your legs. Though your expression and scent probably gave it away to anyone who looked at you for more than a fleeting moment.
“Yes,” he said warmly, “I won't.”
Smiling through the haze, you rested your head against his chest and he let you. Being hugged by Paz made you feel secure in a way you had never experienced before. His arms tightened around you and he started to slowly sway from side to side, humming a melody you did not recognize.
“How are you so comfortable?” you asked in a mumble, trying to smooth your cheek against him through the cold beskar was nothing like the warmth of his skin.
He did not answer directly but you did notice a change in his scent, something that you hadn’t noticed before. You breathed in deeply, trying to decipher where this scent of woods and sweetness had come from but Paz interrupted your thoughts, “Will you let me accompany you to your bunk?”
“Will I?” you scoffed, your voice still sounding weak to your ears, “You have to, alpha, you’ve got a tendency to make my legs tremble.”
“Say stuff like this and I will make them tremble again.”
“Is that supposed to be a threat?”
“A promise, love,” he chuckled, “It’s a promise.”
*
You were not sure what you had expected when the entire Mandalorian population got cramped onto one ship, but it certainly had not been a board game championship.
“Hm, I could get used to that,” Paz murmured in your ear, his hand on your back, “Getting Ragnar to bed, having a nice drink to finish off the evening, sitting you on my cock and beating that annoying alpha in every single game this ship has to offer.”
You smiled against his neck, not opening your eyes. You had spent the last few hours just ... dozing. It was kind of scary to think about how quickly you had gotten used to this strange man but when you had settled for the evening, it was not even a question where you would spend the last few hours of the day.
As soon as the large alpha had sat down at one of the little play tables, so had you, straddling him with your chest against his and he had gotten an extra blanket from somewhere, muttering under his breath how he knew you got cold easily.
It made your cheeks heat up in a different way.
But now here you were, his cock nestled deep inside you and your face in the crook of his neck. Getting to touch even the tiniest sliver of skin felt like a privilege and the fact that he allowed you to do so in front of many of the other warriors made it feel even more intimate. Paz did not mind you scenting him. Quite the opposite, actually, he seemed to relish in it.
The previous night he had spent the time just like this, sitting you on his cock with a rumble in his chest. Only that time he had been able to reciprocate the scenting in kind. Whenever you had drifted awake (multiple times since some couples just could not keep quiet), his mouth had been on your neck, raining lavish kisses upon the sensitive skin until you squirmed in his lap. He had been awake every time you had drifted off and every time your eyes fluttered open beneath the blindfold. He had been still yes, quiet too, and smelled incredibly comfortable but his hands, his hips slowly working you open until you had muffled your gasps into his chest and come on his cock. And then he had traced his fingertips over your scent gland until you had fallen back asleep.
You wondered if he had not slept because he was nervous or perhaps because he just did not need to. You knew of a few warriors in your tribe who had made it a tradition not to sleep the night before a big battle or a trial, instead mulling over strategies and meditating until the time had come.
Briggs called them idiots.
But Paz was not an idiot.
Not with the way he carried himself so securely through the ship, how he participated in the training session, giving pointers to the younger warriors. And certainly not with the way he argued in the cockpit, discussing the best route to go to Mandalore and the strategy for how to reclaim it.
And definitely not with the way his hand was gently stroking your back, how his chest rumbled whenever you pressed a lazy kiss to his scent gland and how he made sure you were comfortable, checking in with you every time he shifted.
“You comfortable too, sweetheart?” he asked you, inclining his head so the side of his helmet was resting against your temple. The proximity allowed you not only to bury your face in his neck but also to hear his real voice – a fact that made your heart skip a beat, “Getting some rest?”
You hummed, too lazy to speak but chose to kiss his neck instead. The stretch made him shift inside you and you whimpered. He had come inside you once already and refused to knot you. (“The first time I knot you won't be in a room where everyone can see just how pretty you come for me,” had been his exact words and you had been too excited by the prospect of him knotting you to understand the implications of the rest of the words.) Which meant that there was a growing mess between your thighs, a mix of your juices and his seed and where other alphas might have found it uncomfortable, the reminder that he had filled you seemed to make Paz even harder than before.
“I’d be concerned if I had to ask my calmer if they are comfortable,” Axe Wove’s voice grated on your nerves and you wondered not for the first time if it was really necessary to be nice to him or if it would suffice to just keep Bo-Katan happy, “You wanna switch, sweetheart?”
You had not even registered that he was speaking to you until you felt Paz tense underneath you, his scent getting an acid note that made your nose twitch, “Say that again.”
“You heard me,” Axe Woves hissed, “Perhaps your omega would actually be satisfied if she were with me.”
You squeaked when you were simply lifted off Paz’s cock, his hands gripping your waist just a little bit too tight for comfort. He was angry, you could gather as much. But was that truly reason enough to kick you out of your favourite spot when you had just started to doze off again?
With trembling hands, you fought to close your robe as fast as possible. But when you finally looked up from fiddling with the belt, it was already too late.
The tell-tale buzzing of the vibro blade cut through the tense silence in the room and you knew shit was about to go down.
“Alpha,” you started to rush to his side but were kept on your spot by a pair of arms that were not your alpha’s.
You turned around angrily, ready to chide anyone who dared to keep you from trying to calm your alpha. Because that’s what he was. Your alpha.
“You know you cannot intervene.”
“Chants –“
“Everyone is watching,” your friend reminded you urgently. You knew he was right. That did not mean you had to like it though. Anyone going to stop a fight between two Mandalorian warriors had to be ready to fight themselves. And apart from your lack of clothing or your body still being disoriented from sitting on Paz’s cock not even five minutes ago, your lack of training did not lend itself to try and stop whatever was going on.
A roar was going through the crowd as they gathered to see what was going on. You caught glimpses of Sluice and the Armourer watching the fight unfold – Sluice looking just as displeased as Briggs, wherever he was, you were sure – and you grew restless. Paz making you fight made you nervous, the thought that there was even the slimmest chance that he could get hurt made you sick to your stomach.
However, after a few minutes of watching Paz fight, you found you did not mind seeing him throw and avoid punches. There was something very attractive about the way he strong-armed his way through the fight. Both men were capable warriors, that much was obvious, but his display of pure strength reminded you of your moment in the hallway and your raging heartbeat calmed down.
Paz could take care of this. He could take care of himself.
It was only when the silver-armoured man – Djarin, you thought – stomped into the circle, gripping Paz by the back of his neck and pulling him away the same way that Bo-Katan Kryze pulled away Axe Woves, finally putting distance between the two alphas.
You took that as your chance to intervene. Chants had no chance to stop you as you slipped out of his grasp and hurried towards Paz. His chest was heaving and his hands kept clenching by his side and you could smell his anger even from several steps away.
But it did not scare you. Because deep down you knew that no matter how big he was, no matter how angry, Paz Vizsla would never even think of hurting you.
“Alpha,” you whispered and the crowd went quiet, “I mean, uh, Paz.”
Taking a stand in front of him you hoped that he was focussing on you instead of a raging Axe Woves behind you. And your heart skipped a beat when his hands gently pulled you against him. He was aware of you, he noticed you, he did not care more about the fight than you.
“He said that I could not pleasure you,” he grunted and you moved to his side.
“I heard what he said,” you smiled, your hand gripping his while you rested your chin against his upper arm, “And it is obvious to me that he does not know what he is talking about.”
That seemed to relax him a little because you could see his shoulders drop and his fingers intertwined with yours. “No?” he asked, tugging you closer, “Are you sure, omega?”
“I am very sure,” you replied, feeling a little breathless, “No one ever made me feel like you do, alpha. Cherished and safe and wanted and … and –“ loved “– appreciated the way you do.”
“Can I let you go, Vizsla?” his friend asked, his tone neutral though you could swear you detected a hint of exasperation in it, “Or will you try to start another clan war?”
“Fuck off, Djarin,” Paz said, clearly not offended at the other man’s accusation, and shook his friend off but keeping his hold on your hand, “’m fine.”
“Yeah, sure,” the other man scoffed but left anyway, disappearing into the crowd that kept dwindling away now that nothing of interest was going on. But a few eyes remained on you and you suddenly became aware of how little you were wearing and how much you were being watched.
“Can we leave, alpha?” you asked, thumb brushing over his wrist and you loved how his head tilted to look at you. How he seemed to be so focused on you, you never need to worry he was in danger of ignoring you. “To … I don’t know to where, just … somewhere we’re alone.”
“I can take you to bed, omega,” he suggested, his hands falling to your hips, “I can … I could hold you close and scent you again. We got the curtain and the blindfold and our own little space. How does that sound?”
“That sounds like a dream,” you smiled in relief, already dragging him in the direction of the bunkroom, “Please take me to bed, alpha.”
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tunaababee · 2 days
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we will be everything we say - Chapter 4
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masterlist // fic playlist // read on AO3 // overall rating: e // wc this chapter: 4.9k // updates Mondays (aest)
Feyre Archeron has been best friends with Rhysand Sterling ever since she moved onto the same street when they were kids - the two became absolutely joined at the hip, with nothing able to come between them.
As they get older, life gets more complicated and things get harder. Not everything comes as naturally as it once did. People change, things happen, friends... drift.
But after drifting apart, maybe life can push them back together again, in time.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Chapter 4: seventeen and eighteen
After Rhys had moved, Feyre had never found it easy to go to his house - sure, he was always kind enough to give her a ride and do his best to make her feel at home - but it never felt like somewhere she could relax. The lawns were too manicured, the furniture too fancy, the backyard too big and the fittings too new. This house absolutely screamed of Rhysand’s father, and no matter how at ease Rhys made her feel overall, she was never quite able to shake it even on the best of days when she visited the house.
That feeling was manifesting tenfold in her stomach right now as the party raged around her, raucous and encompassing, and that was without the idea of the next few years ahead of her plaguing her mind. If Feyre didn’t take tonight one step at a time, she felt like she could throw up.
Because tonight was Prythian High’s completely unsanctioned, borderline-official senior year graduation party.
Feyre was dressed uncomfortably - nice, but uncomfortably. Shehad donned a pair of black heels she had borrowed from Elain forever ago, some form-fitting pale blue jeans and a nice, but loose black tank top to try and pull the whole thing together. Realistically, she’d much rather be in some trackpants and an oversized shirt but she didn’t want to fuck this up for anybody, least of all herself. She would have much rather snuck through the side window or something - as clinical as the house could feel, she still knew it well - but it wasn’t an option with her boyfriend at her side as they stepped out of his car. Tamlin grabbed a cooler he had in the backseat before resuming his earlier station, hand at the small of her back as the two headed for Rhys’ front door. Tamlin reached to ring the doorbell but Feyre stopped him, one hand lightly landing on his wrist as it came up while her other fished around in her bag for the key she knew she had. Despite Rhys’ move two years ago, they’d still kept keys to each other’s house no matter what in case they needed something.
“I’ve got this babe,” she said quietly, flashing him a small smile. Feyre could swear she saw his jaw tense, his smile down at her a little forced as she turned the key in the lock. She knew he wasn’t Rhys’ biggest fan, but she trusted he could keep it under control for one night. They’d had to come together for this party in the first place, after all.
Feyre took a quiet, deep breath before pushing the door open to what could only be described as barely controlled chaos inside. Music blared all throughout the house, teenagers scattered everywhere with cups in hand and the scent of alcohol permeating the air. Normally this wouldn’t have been Feyre’s preferred way to spend a Friday night, but she knew that the night meant a lot to Rhys, their friends, and Tamlin, all of whom were off to college in the upcoming fall. Even if she wasn’t the biggest social butterfly, she’d do anything for the people she loved and cared about. So her and Tamlin trudged forward, the throngs of their drunken fellow students parting slowly as they moved into the living room. People were scattered everywhere throughout the house, playing drinking games of various complexity before spilling out in the backyard where people were swimming in the well-appointed pool. Feyre couldn’t help but think for a moment that it almost definitely was some sort of recipe for a liability issue before being pulled from her thoughts at an insistent shout across the room.
“Feyre, you came!”
She was almost bowled off of her feet with how firmly Mor leapt at her for a hug, unable to help laughing as she hugged her right back despite a slight stumble. Mor didn’t hesitate to plant a bright red kiss on her cheek with her signature smile that lit up a room.
“Of course I would, wouldn’t miss watching you guys get messy for the world.”
“Good to see you too, Tamlin. Congrats on salutatorian, by the way.” Mor simply smiled at him, Tamlin narrowing his eyes slightly as he flashed his most practised grin. Feyre lightly slapped Mor's shoulder - she knew that her friends couldn’t help but deliberately try and worm their way under Tamlin’s skin. She was very used to their ribbing, but Tamlin came from a very different family and environment. They had to give him time to adjust.
“Thanks, Mor. Where’s the host? I’ve got beer and wine to unload from my car.”
She smoothly gestured over to the kitchen, where Rhys was making a cursed concoction with whatever liquor he currently had his hands on. Rhys knew he couldn’t get away with raiding his dad’s cabinet, so he and Tamlin struck a deal - in exchange for Rhys hosting, Tamlin was to provide the majority of the drink as his family owned both breweries and vineyards. Not that the promise of free alcohol stopped people from bringing their own contributions to the revelry. Feyre blew a kiss at Mor as she and Tamlin walked over together, watching Rhys with a smile on her face. Once he finished his creation, resulting in an oversized bowl full of a murky brown mixture of liquor that was bound to leave people with heads pounding in the morning, he met Feyre’s gaze. He rushed right over, not hesitating to pull her into a tight hug.
“Hello, Feyre darling!”
“Hello, Rhys my dear!” Feyre hugged back just as firmly, already feeling a little more at ease. She could feel Tamlin staring at him, glad that neither one of them had managed to say anything incendiary for the time being. Once Rhys let go of Feyre, he moved to give Tamlin a terse clap on the shoulder. The smirk Rhys flashed was one of pure confidence and nonchalance, Tamlin doing his best to mimic it. God, she hated teenage male egos.
“Glad to see you made it, Tamlin. I hope you didn’t have any trouble getting here?”
“Not at all. I have the booze I promised loaded in the back of my car, if you wouldn’t mind giving me a hand.” Their conversation was laced with tension that Feyre knew she wasn’t totally privy to - she knew that their parents for many years had it out for each other, but she had no clue how that would extend to the two of them by proxy. Whenever she asked either of them, they refused to elaborate. Usually she was relegated to playing peacemaker between the two, but she was glad they seemed to be willing to at least try to put it aside for one night.
“Of course, lead the way.” He gestured to the front door, beginning to trail after Tamlin, but not before giving her a soft smile. Feyre mouthed the words ‘come back soon’ at him, to which he gave a small nod before returning his attention to the task at hand. For the time being, Feyre grabbed a beer from his fridge and tried to find a less-crowded corner to occupy.
Wherever she wandered inside the house was so full of bodies that, despite the normally over-abundant space, it felt almost claustrophobic no matter where she turned. She knew that upstairs was generally off limits to partygoers - everyone knew that nobody wanted to have any reason to make Mr. Sterling pissed off - but she didn’t want to seem completely anti-social, let alone have people misconstrue anything. Feyre had already had to fend off rumours that she and Rhys were together since they were in middle school and there was no way she wanted to give anybody a reason to add fuel to that proverbial fire. Soon she found herself outside, managing to catch a glimpse of Azriel standing a small way off while Cassian was busy trying to pull off a keg stand and failing miserably. He had a rare smile on his face as they watched Amren continue to hold up Cassian despite how much beer he was losing over his face and into his hair. Feyre couldn’t help but laugh, sidling up next to Azriel comfortably amongst the crowd.
“Please tell me this is his first attempt of the night.”
Azriel snorted slightly. “More like third.”
She shook her head a little bit, tapping her beer to Azriel’s plastic cup before taking a generous swig. They stood in comfortable silence for a while, watching Cassian dismount with no small amount of spluttering and laughter on his part before someone else attempted to take up the mantle. Aside from Tamlin, Rhys and their inner circle of friends were the only people Feyre actually knew at this party. She was only a junior - if she wasn’t so close with them, there was no way she could glance at this whole event, let alone be invited. So by Azriel’s side she stuck, the two of them content to watch the people as the time ticked by until, inevitably, Tamlin found her and insisted on having her stick by his side all night. She didn’t entirely mind - it was nice to have a conversational buffer since Tamlin was very good at keeping people engaged - but it was a little isolating in its own way.
At least I don’t have to talk to drunk people I don’t even know, she thought to herself. It was a small solace.
Feyre had been dating Tamlin for the past six months or so at this point. The first time they had met was when she had accidentally run into him in the halls, unable to see past art supplies and textbooks she had bundled in her arms. It was almost like the moment was plucked out of a movie - he had apologised, helping her gather everything back up before locking his forest green eyes with hers and smiling softly. They’d exchanged names and she had indulged in quiet little daydreams periodically, waving at each other in the halls every now and again. Then all of a sudden they were seeing each other regularly - Feyre often walked dogs as a side gig to try and save more money for her college fund as well as any art supplies she may need, only to find that one of her regular dogs belonged to Tamlin Greenbriar’s family. Little Andras was always more bark than bite, but he brought the two of them closer. It wasn’t long until he had asked her out on a date, leading to something more all quite quickly. It was a bit of a whirlwind, but didn’t every girl deserve to get swept up like that at least once? He cared for her and made sweet promises and made her feel like she didn’t have to worry so much about the future. He could be a bit pushy at times, especially when it came to keeping up appearances, but relationships were all about compromise. If this was one she had to make, then so be it.
Rhys never took kindly to him, though. Her other friends were also a little terse around him, but they all did their best to respect her decision. It meant a lot to Feyre that they were willing to try - Nesta had blatantly told her that he was “white boy privilege personified” and Elain had stayed disturbingly neutral and placid about him, which was never a good sign about how she felt.
But despite it all,, she was determined to make it work - he was a nice guy and she deserved to be cared for. So she kept a smile on her face, saying her hellos and sticking by his side. Eventually, he brought them back inside, the two of them taking a few shots of somebody’s Fireball they’d managed to sneak out before making their way closer to the speakers to dance. Flashing LED lights had been set up, creating a moody atmosphere as they moved in time to the music. Her arms slid around his neck, fingers tangling with his long golden hair as his hands moved down to her waist. Their brows were almost pressed together, a smile on her face and a slightly dark look in Tamlin’s eyes.
“You look gorgeous, Feyre.” he said to her, keeping his voice as low as he could while still trying to speak over the music.
“Speak for yourself.” 
She could almost get lost in the rhythm, were it not for the fact that her feet were starting to kill her. Feyre tried to push it to the back of her mind in favour of Tamlin’s hands slowly but surely creeping their way down over her ass, but after a few songs she couldn’t ignore the sensation any longer. Feyre moved her arms away from his neck, trying to gently pry his hands away.
“Tamlin, I gotta go sit down for a minute, these heels are starting to hurt.” His grip only got tighter - he was quite a few drinks deep and was sometimes stubborn when it came to getting what he wanted in a state like this.
“C’mon Feyre, not even another song? You’re so hot when you’re all dressed up like this.” He pressed closer, his half-hard length pushed against her thigh. Her lip curled slightly - she never liked having sex with Tamlin when he was drunk, and tonight was no exception. That wasn’t even accounting for the fact that it wasn’t their house to have sex in to begin with.
She pushed his hands off more firmly, stepping out of the crowd with a pleading expression on her face. “I’m just gonna sit down for a little bit and then I’ll be back, promise.”
He grunted at her in mild annoyance, sauntering off deeper into the crowd to keep dancing. God, why had she even worn heels to a fucking house party in the first place? They made her legs and ass look nice, sure, but she wasn’t exactly out to impress anybody tonight. Except for maybe Tamlin, but at least that made sense, they were a couple. With small steps she made her way toward the stairwell that led to the second floor, sitting herself down on them with a small sigh. Almost as soon as she had sat down her heels were off, bringing a foot up onto her knee before she began to rub small circles into it with her thumbs. She felt so out of place here. The people at this party weren’t her people, and when everyone else left for college in a few months she’d be almost entirely alone.
“Hey, you okay?” Rhys’ head poked around the corner, padding his way over with nothing but concern all over his face. It was a welcome distraction from the slant of her thoughts and anxiety.
“I’m alright, just, y’know. Choices,” Feyre gestured at her discarded heels next to her. “Consequences.” A light chuckle left her as she nodded back down at her feet, Rhys giving her a small smile back as he came to sit next to her on the stairs.
“I wasn’t going to say anything, but I did notice that you’d definitely made one hell of a choice with the shoes tonight, yeah. I saw you hobble your way over here from where everyone was dancing.”
“Oh god, was it that bad?” Feyre groaned a little, Rhysand nodding with a chuckle. Her head was in her hands with a whine, her palms pressed lightly against her eyes.
All of a sudden Rhys dragged her feet into his lap, replacing where her own hands had been rubbing small circles into the tender aches of the balls of her feet. Feyre looked back up at him, eyebrows raised with a small look of surprise on her face.
“A bit much, isn’t it, Rhys?”
“What? You're my best friend, you're in pain, I'm trying to help out. We can get you a pair of my slides or something after, just five minutes.” He responded, looking sheepishly at her like it wasn’t at least a little bit odd to have your best friend give you an impromptu foot massage at his massive rager. Feyre snorted slightly to herself.
“Rhysand Sterling, owning a pair of slides - never thought I’d see the day where you chose comfort over style.”
“Hey, I don’t go around croc-shaming you. Not another word.” Rhys lightly pinched the top of her foot, switching to the other foot while the two of them chuckled together as she leaned back against the wall and let him do his thing. Some people might view the two of them as codependent and a little weird, but with how much the two of them had gone through together, she wouldn’t change whatever they had for the world. She let her eyes shut for a moment, letting her mind wander in the haze of a few drinks, the music, and the relief Rhys’ ministrations were providing her. After what felt like only a mere few moments, he gave her leg a light tap, gently moving her feet off of his lap before slowly rising to his feet.
“Well, Miss Archeron, a very fashionable pair of slides awaits.” Rhys joked, gesturing up the stairs with a grin. She flashed a matching smirk, though it turned to a slight grimace as she got up on aching feet again.
“Oh no, please sir, it’s your house. How could I deny you such an opportunity to play host?”
Rhys gasped dramatically, one hand at his chest while the other went to his cheek. “My goodness, and here I thought chivalry was dead!” He hiked up his imaginary skirts as he began to head up the stairs, Feyre following after him. His raven black curls bounced as he eagerly climbed the stairs, Feyre trailing sluggishly behind in comparison, but he made sure to wait at the top of the staircase anyway with a hand extended to help her out. He was always nicer than he had any need to be to her, and it never went unappreciated by Feyre.
The music was much more muffled up on the second floor, thrumming consistently as they made their way down the hallway to Rhys’ room - it always felt much more cosy compared to the rest of his house. While it was still simple and meticulously organised, it contained signs of passion and interest and living. A cushy double bed pushed up in the corner opposite the door, a bedside table with his glasses, a well-worn candle and a lamp right next to it and a low dresser not too far from that.The wall next to the door had a low cabinet with all of his consoles and games in it, a TV perched on top and some small art pieces Feyre had done over the years framed neatly on the walls. Rhys’ room also had a window overlooking the backyard, his desk underneath it with a small bookcase slotted on one side with a wardrobe on the other. A few bean-bag chairs were in the middle of the room, a staple for whenever he and Feyre decided to beat the shit out of each other in whatever game took their fancy that week. This was the place that felt like home to her, and Feyre didn’t think twice about sitting herself down on the end of the bed while Rhys rummaged around in his wardrobe.
Feyre watched him keenly - he always presented himself as relatively at ease to the world, but it was these quiet moments away from everybody else that he actually felt at ease. She often shared the sentiment, usually preferring solitude if Rhys wasn’t around - or, these days, Tamlin either. Feyre had always had to work and push and keep on fighting uphill battle after uphill battle - providing the family with a second income when her father had gotten fired from his job and had to take up something that brought in pennies in comparison. Making sure the house stayed clean and that someone went to the grocery store that week. Keeping on top of her studies and trying to save whatever she could for college. It felt like that burden was only going to get heavier with all of her friends going off to college themselves in a mere few months - sure, she was kind of friends with Clare Beddor and Briar Bell. More like acquaintances, if anything.
But these little moments? All of it fell away.
“Hey, do you still climb up onto your roof sometimes?” The words spilled from Feyre’s mouth before she could think them over too heavily.
“Not really, especially since you know how my dad can get. Why, what are you thinking?” Rhys had moved from rummaging in the bottom of his wardrobe to under his bed, one slide already thrown haphazardly near his dresser as he searched for the other.
“I’m thinking that you should come on up!” She chirped, heels abandoned on the floor as she strode over to his desk. Feyre reached over to open the window and start climbing out, swearing she heard Rhys mumbling to himself something about her being insane, but she didn’t care - she simply turned back, flashing him a wild smile before beginning to climb through. Soon enough, she had walked precariously over the rough shingles to situate herself squarely in the middle of the roof, facing the backyard full of teenagers with her knees brought up in front of her. Feyre could hear Rhys beginning to clamber up onto the roof after her like clockwork, much more confident in his steps as he came to sit beside her. A beat of silence hung between them for a moment, enjoying watching everyone in his backyard make merry from a distance. Rhys broke the silence first.
“Thanks for giving me an excuse to stop playing host for a little while.” He bumped his shoulder lightly with hers, glancing at Feyre with a soft expression.
“Don’t worry about it. I figured if I was having a hard time down there with everybody, you’d be in the same boat. Besides, you know I like being able to spend some quality time with you. While we can, anyway.” That last sentence had come out a little more melancholy than she intended, wincing slightly at her own idiocy before looking up at the sky. It was easier than looking at Rhys right now - he already felt bad that he was going to a university that was out of town, she didn’t want to make him feel guilty for doing what was best for his future.
“You know I’m still gonna visit, right? And we still have each other’s numbers, we can still talk everyday.”
“Yeah, but you and I both know that it’s not the same. Besides, we’re both gonna be so busy busting our asses. I know this year hasn’t exactly been as breezy as you make it out to be to everybody else, and your dad expects so much of you. If I don’t double down on what I’m doing now I won’t get a scholarship, which would mean no college for me at all.”
“I could alwa-”
“Rhysand, I know what you’re about to say, and I can’t let you or your dad hand me this on a platter. If it was from you, I’d want to pay you back, and if you pestered your dad enough about it then we’d both be on the hook. I can do this. It’s just… hard.”
Feyre huffed slightly, readjusting so she was laying back on the roof to stare up at the night sky, trying to recall some of the constellations Rhys had told her about over the years. No matter how hard she tried, it didn’t take her mind off of the words on the tip of her tongue.
“I just wish I could deal with you guys leaving better. I mean, of course I want you all to succeed and do great things. I know none of you can do that if you stay in one place the whole time. But I’m barely friends with anybody else in school. I don’t even know how often I’ll get to see you, let alone anybody else, having to split my time between school and work and seeing Tamlin…”
Feyre could have sworn she saw a twinge of annoyance flicker across Rhys face as she glanced over at him, shifting onto his back as well. “Rhys, I know you’re not his biggest fan.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You didn’t have to.”
“I just think that making you trek all the way over there to meet him every few weekends is selfish when he knows all that you’ve got going on. Like, we’re going to the same college, I know how long it takes to get there from here. And we both know he’s not going to be happy if you try to see me while you’re there. It’s not exactly fair.” His words were clipped - conversations with Rhys about Tamlin were always respectful, but loaded with tension and annoyance simmering just beneath the surface of his carefully schooled expression.
“I get that, but I’ve got a much lighter workload compared to what he’ll have and it won’t be every weekend, so you and I can figure something out. Tamlin and I are gonna make it work.”
“Just… Remember he’s gotta meet you at least halfway sometimes, alright? You give a lot of yourself to him. Make sure to keep at least a little just for you.” Rhys sighed, meeting Feyre’s gaze with a sympathetic smile and a quiet sigh. He reached out a hand between them and Feyre simply smiled back before taking it, returning her gaze to the stars above. She could feel the tears she’d been holding back about the whole situation begin to prick at the edges of her eyes, grateful that she didn’t have to worry about anybody at the party seeing her cry as they rolled down her cheeks.
“I’m just gonna miss my friends. All this change is just really scary and I don’t know how I’m gonna deal, y’know? Even if it’s not the end of the world, you’re all so important to me. Especially you.” She punctuated her words with a slight squeeze, Rhys giving one back in kind.
“Feyre, you’re probably the strongest, smartest and most brave person I’ve ever met. If anyone’s going to be able to get through this, it’s you. You could do anything if you wanted to.”
“Thanks, Rhys. I love you a lot, even if you’re a prick.” Feyre laughed, something in her heart easing and unfurling a little as she said the words. He was her best friend and he always knew exactly what she needed to hear, when she needed it. Rhys always knew when something was wrong and was as loyal as they came. Of course she loved him. So why did it feel a little bit like there was a weight in her chest as she waited for him to respond?
“Don’t let Tamlin hear you say that,” Rhys responded with his signature shit-eating grin on his face, though there was something not quite right behind his eyes. “Lest he think that I’m out to steal you away or something.”
Feyre knew not to push - Rhys would tell her what was going on when he was ready, so instead she simply smacked his shoulder, sitting back up to glance out over the backyard once more. As she looked out over the crowd, she found her attention was caught by none other than Tamlin, dazedly stumbling through people and looking around in confusion. That was her cue.
“Shit, he’s looking for me. I gotta get back down there, I should drive him home. I had a feeling I’d be designated driver tonight.”
“Well then, we shouldn’t keep him waiting.” Rhys carefully got to his feet before extending his hand down to Feyre, helping her up before they both made their way back through Rhys’ bedroom window. Once they were back in, he handed her his slides with a smile.
“Go on, you’d be better off to head down there without me. He’s already not friendly with me when he’s sober, I wouldn’t want to make him grumpy for the trip back.”
“...Thanks, Rhys. I’ll text you when I’m home, okay?”
“You better. And the others, too.”
Feyre dropped the slides to the ground, slipping into them without a second thought before giving Rhys a quick hug. Then, before her boyfriend could cause any drunken chaos, she scurried down the stairs to find him.
The drive back to Tamlin’s house was quiet with him half-conscious in the passenger seat, Feyre playing the conversation she had with Rhys in her head over and over. Even as she parked the car and guided Tamlin inside only to find her way back out again to drive her own car home, it was all that occupied her mind. Something between Feyre and Rhys was shifting, wasn’t quite solid like it once was, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Whatever it was, she kept reminding herself that it would be okay. It was Feyre and Rhys against the world, always. But things always changed over time, so maybe that was just what it was - the two of them changing as people, but still growing together?
Whatever it was, she knew it was going to be alright. It was going to be alright because it had to be.
It had to.
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