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#but each time i tried i would remember what's happening in a few hours and it's impossible to relax
mickyschumacher · 6 months
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can i request something for carlos sainz x leclerc!reader on vacation?there’s such a soft spot in me for summer vacation carlos like in a beach setting or on a yacht. it can be soft or smutty it doesn’t matter i just love summery carlos. thank you!!!
𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐈 .ೃ࿐
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𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: while the leclercs maybe spending their summer vacation at home, you opted for a secret vacation in santorini with your secret boyfriend, carlos sainz. or in which you are secretly dating your brother's teammate.
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), unprotected sex (if you're gonna slip, slop, slap, you must wrap your willy!), reader dob in 1999, dating in secret trope!, sainz & leclerc = google translated spanish & french ._., ig the reader has a shaved downstairs?, p in v, teasing, oral sex, lovey dovey smut?, poor humour, breastplay, fingering, cumming inside, bit of overstimulation for the reader, scandal and swift references, love confessions.
𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!carlos sainz x younger leclerc!fem!reader
𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4k+
𝐀/𝐍: firm agree on the summery carlos! is it really my writing if i don't get santorini involved? anyways, hope this was up to your standards! sorry for the long wait! ♡︎
𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆
Dating your brother's teammate was never on your bucket list. Hell, you tried to stay away from Formula 1. Well, as much as Leclerc could anyways.
People older than you weren't really your type. You opted for people near your age. That way there wasn't an awkward generation gap and there was no one that reminded you of your older brothers. Carlos was only five years older than you but the generational gap was most certainly there.
Men your age were... well, boys.
Men Carlos' age were men but also men.
You had seen Carlos at races before. And he was an attractive man, obviously. But that was that. You passed each other down the paddock, barely giving each other a glance. And not to mention the obvious, you were far too young for him at the time.
But then Ferrari's first car launch after signing Carlos had happened.
You had seen Carlos more in the few hours the event lasted than the past few years. You didn't know what it was. Whether you were unintentionally stalking him or vice versa. What you did know, however, he was definitely eyeing you.
By the time Charles had introduced you, Arthur, Lorenzo, and your mother, Carlos was trying to keep his interest at bay, pretending to be as family-friendly as possible.
Carlos ended up catching you as you came out of the bathroom, smoothly asking for your number. And as much as you wanted to give it to him, you weren't going to be easy. You were a Leclerc for crying out loud.
If Carlos wanted you, he would have to earn you.
And boy did he try.
You had heard from several people and the Internet that Carlos was a hardcore romantic. You never thought about it up until he started pulling out all the stops.
He was attentive as hell, remembering your favourite drinks, slipping you a new book to read as he talked to Charles, purposely linking his pinky with yours as discreetly as he could just so he could see you flush in front of him, sending you clothes for you to wear to his races to your apartment...
Carlos was menace.
But somewhere along the line, he became your menace.
You and Carlos were the epitome of the saying 'Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours'.
Keeping it secret... sure it was frustrating at times. The both of you had person after person trying to get with you because, well, you were a Leclerc and he was Carlos Sainz. Carlos had managed to draw a line by telling people he had a girlfriend but he didn't want to reveal her.
Yeah... it didn't settle well with the grid, in particular the three gossipers of the grid: Pierre, Lando, and your brother.
But after all the little bumps in the road, it was smooth sailing.
Most of the time you spent time together was alone, just the two of you. That way, there was no risk of being caught and you could revel in each other.
Of course, it wasn't that easy. Nothing was easy with you and Carlos, especially given that you couldn't keep your hands off of one another. Carlos a slight more than you because you had the decency and fear of embarrassment of getting caught by anyone. Carlos, on the other hand, was as indecent as they come. Hands always looking for an excuse to touch you, eyes travelling to find you first in any room, sending dirty texts when you sat across him... like you said, he was a menace.
To make things easier for yourself, for this summer break, you and Carlos had picked trusty Santorini as a romantic getaway, taking his dog Piñon as a welcomed third wheeler. Filled with so many tourists that you and Carlos would look like any regular couple there.
"Now this is a summer break," You breathed out, walking on to the yacht you had rented out for your stay in Greece. The air was clean and crisp, the sun was already beating down on you despite it being nine in the morning, and the translucent blue waters brought you a sense of familiarity that Monaco held.
"Don't you agree, Piñon?" You cooed to the soft ball of white curled up into your arms. A small bark of agreement came from the dog, tail wagging in happiness.
Carlos chuckled behind you, putting down your bags on the deck, under the shade. His thick arms enveloped your waist, bringing you closer to him. Nestling his chin into your shoulder, he said, "That's good, hermosa (beautiful). Now try saying it in Spanish."
You made a face at his teasing tone. Pulling yourself out of his grasp, you turned towards him. "Ahora son unas vacaciones de verano. ¿No estás de acuerdo, mi querido Carlos?" You recreated the same coaxing tone you had given Piñon to your lover, pinching his cheek with the energy of an overly endearing mother. Now this is a summer break. Don't you agree, my dear Carlos?
Carlos gave you a pointed look. You were teasing him. You knew he liked when you spoke Spanish because it was cute to see you fumble over the words but it also meant a lot to him that you were trying.
You rolled your eyes at his reaction and settled Piñon on the deck after making sure it wasn't too hot for those small paws of his. You watched him trot around the yacht, carefully examining his surrounding to test his boundaries.
Satisfied that Piñon was safe, you turned back to Carlos. "Brunch?"
"Brunch..." Carlos trailed off, hand reaching out to your face. The soft pad of his thumb graze your lips, gently pulling on your bottom lip to watch it bounce back. "...or brunch?" He asked, voice heavy with a clear need.
Your body thrived with an eagerness to respond to his touch. Goosebumps were the paint to the canvas of your skin, littering each part of you even though you were impossibly warm in the sun. You really wanted brunch. But your stomach wanted brunch. Instead, you simply nodded to him, agreeing with the answer he had never said. "You're right. Food is very important."
Carlos groaned at your response. "Hermosa," He sighed out, bringing his arms around your waist to pull you close yet again. "I want you," He murmured against your skin, nose brushing against your cheek and hot breath wandering down your neck.
Carlos could feel you smile at his words. "And you have me... for two whole weeks," You reminded him, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek.
Carlos curled his lip in annoyance at your reminder while he revelled in your touch. "I could have you for four," He also reminded you.
You sighed. You hadn't seen him in three weeks because life had it's mysterious ways of making the both of you busy. You wanted nothing more than a month with Carlos. But it was far too suspicious.
You had barely convinced your mother and your brothers that you were going to Santorini for a 'self-exploration' trip. Charles had immediately offered to turn it into a family trip but you managed to settle him down by saying you would spend the last two weeks with them. Alexandra had been a sweetheart in the matter as well. She was the only one, as well as Kika and Lily, that had known about you and Carlos, claiming they sensed it from 'a mile away'.
What they truly meant was that Carlos wouldn't stop eye-fucking you from a far.
"It's okay," You mumbled woefully, patting his chest softly, "I'll be with you in spirit while you reign Madrid."
Carlos held in his eye roll at your theatrics, you had a flair for them. "I wish you would reign Madrid with me instead. I want you to meet the family, let me finally teach you golf, go to the holiday house with me, hmm?" He implored, chocolate brown flickering to search yours.
The pain behind your eyes made him feel frustrated. He knew how much you wanted to do that because you wanted the same thing with your family. "How 'bout I call Charles, hmm? I'm sure he'll understand."
The thought of Charles finding out from anyone but you made you shudder. Would he understand? What was so understandable about hiding the fact you were dating his teammate for over a year, especially over a call?
Arthur, amongst Charles and Lorenzo, would probably be the most hurt. You and him told each other everything. You guys were the closest in age, similar to how Lorenzo and Charles were. Hell, you even helped him confess and get with Carla. And he was waiting to do the same for you, with some he trusted and knew.
And Lorenzo? It was really for the best if he didn't know from Carlos. He had initially told you not to get too close to any of the drivers because he was worried for you and well, the reputation of F1 drivers and dating wasn't too great. But you were quite sure that anything you and Carlos did had crossed the line of 'too close'. '
"Carlos, mi amor, I love you, but I think the idea of brunch, not brunch, is more understanding."
━━━━━━━━━━━
After your brunch, you had spent some time reading to Carlos inside the yacht, not wanting to get into the water just after you had eaten nor wanting to go out when the sunshine was at it's peak.
It was serene.
The windows were open, letting a cool breeze come and help reduce the heat and you were both sprawled on the soft mattresses that served as sofas on the floor of the yacht. The calmness and peace you had desired amongst the chaos life and F1 brought.
You were half sure that Carlos was close to falling asleep in your lap, but not by your retelling of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice, after Carlos refused to see Keira Knightley and Matthew Macfadyen for the sixth time this year, but by the way your combed your hand through his hair as you read. (Although you were still going to be persistent because the concept of seeing those two on screen in Santorini out of all places was a need, not a want).
"Carlos, mon beau (my handsome), you're going to fall asleep. Let's go swimming," You told him, placing your bookmark in between the pages and closing the book.
Carlos groaned, looking up at you. He held your hand close to his chest. "No, it's way too hot. Don't you see the water? It looks like lava."
You narrowed your eyes. "That precisely why we should go swimming. We can't just sit here and mope around. We're in Santorini... we need to stand up and move around."
Carlos lifted his head from your lap, sitting straight so he faced you. You let out a quick yelp when he pulled you forward, placing you onto his lap, legs straddling him. "I can think about fifty ways to stand up and move around... in fifty different positions."
You could feel your thighs involuntarily clench around him. You know he felt it to. You gasped at his words and shook your head. "You are a heathen, Carlos Sainz. A barbarian... a hooligan, a sexually-driven simpleton must I continue?"
"Well, I recall you loving this heathen, infidel, barbarian, and hooligan," Carlos shrugged, warm hands inching up the white sundress you had worn this morning. The action sent a shudder down your spine.
"Carlos," You mumbled, already falling into a state where you were losing the words to speak your thoughts as Carlos kneaded the flesh of your thighs with his rough hands.
"Yes?" Those puppy brown eyes flickered to your eyes while he brought his mouth to your thighs, opting to graze your heated skin with the teeth. "Tell me what you want, hermosa. And I'll give it to you."
You faltered at his words. His gaze was heavy with a dark blaze that sent your stomach churning. You allowed yourself to fully straddle Carlos' lap, teeth sinking into your bottom lip when you felt Carlos' clothed bulge press into your core.
Carlos struggled to prevent a strained hiss escape his gritted teeth, his grip on your thighs tightening, your flesh escaping the confines of his hands. Fuck, were your thighs so enticing to Carlos. He wanted to bite them and bruise them so even weeks later, they were covered in the reminiscents of him.
"What do you want, baby? Please tell me," Carlos begged, eyes desperately searching your own for any sign or indication of what you wanted.
You felt your core clench at the plea falling from Carlos' plump lips. You hadn't even really done anything but he was ready to serve you. Everything was foggy. You couldn't think straight. "I want... I want you, Carlos. Fuck, anything, everything... I–make love to me. Show me how much you love me."
His roaming hands came to a halt. "Mierda (shit)," Carlos cursed, bringing his tongue to swipe his bottom lip.
He could do that. He would love you so much that the entirety of Santorini would know and no one would even question your relationship with him.
Carlos brought his hands to your back, feeling the numerous strings of your dress against the pads of his fingers. One hand worked to undo the very knots he had done this morning while the other creeped up the back of your neck, pulling your head closer to his.
He brought his lips to yours, pressing them with an indescribable urgency. Your hands shot out to his chest, fisting the soft material of the polo you had chosen for him into a small bundle.
You gasped into the kiss, feeling a sudden breeze of cold air as the strings of your dress fell flat against your skin. Carlos' hands wandered down the surface of your back, coming to a stop at your waist.
The urge to get even closer to you coursed through Carlos' veins, pulling you flush against him. A moan fell from his swollen lips as you parted to fill the craving of some oxygen. Your pussy was pressed tight against his cock and your breasts were soft, pushed against his chest.
Carlos ventured to move his lips down the side of your jaw, edging towards your barren neck, aching to decorate you with aging and unique shades of purple and blue.
You let out a series of sinful whimpers upon the feeling of your skin being sucked at, feeding directly into his constrained cock. "Carlos..." You moaned out, eyes shut in pure pleasure, "They'll know. The–They'll ask q-questions."
"I know." You shivered as you feel him grin against your skin.
You watched him through your half-lidded eyes, moving up from your neck to look at you with his blistering gaze. With one simple movement, he took off his shirt, revealing his taut golden skin. Christ.
You sat still breathlessly on his lap as Carlos peeled off your dress, pulling your arms through the white material. The cool breeze trickled over your bare breasts, nipples hardening almost instantly.
Carlos let a warm hand rest over your rib, lifting you gently to remove your dress fully. He sighed, laying you down on the mattress. The tips of his fingers travelled from your neck and down the valley of your breasts, the hairs of your body standing straight at his touch.
"You know what it is a tragedy, hermosa?" Carlos queried, watching you quiver underneath him, chest heavily rising up and down.
He smiled at your asking through your eyes because the words just couldn't come out of your throat. "You will never see yourself the way I see you. Eres una sirena... obra de Dios. If He didn't put you on this Earth that would've been his biggest sin." You are a siren… God's work.
If your throat wasn't tied up before, it surely was now. You looked at him with a soft gaze, watching him come near you to press his lips on your own. You whimpered, feeling his hands travel towards your breasts, fondling your mounds with a cautious roughness that sent your stomach tingling.
You frowned at the loss of his lips but the complaint subsided upon the feel of his hot tongue swirling around your pebbled nipple. He paid attention to every flick and every crevice, keeping his deep eyes trained on you. He smiled at your hiss as he purposely grazed his teeth against your nipple.
Carlos removed his lips from your nipple, moving his head back to hover over your pussy. Still keeping his eyes on you, you watched in silence as the hot saliva fell from his lips, bubbly strings landing directly onto your glistening folds. Fucking hell.
"Eyes on me, baby," He told you, looking at your clenched eyes.
Your eyes shot open as Carlos took one long stripe of your folds, your hips bucking at the sudden sensation. Lingering a second too long on your clit, his tongue continued to work up towards your stomach and the valley of your breasts, returning his attention to your other nipple.
Your mouth fell open, feeling his fingers rub your wet folds, spreading his saliva around your pussy. While his tongue worked your nipple, he thrusted a thick finger into your walls. With your eyes rolling back, you attempted to fist the thick material of the mattress but to no avail.
"Fuckk, Carlos," You whimpered, writhing at his touch.
"Finally found your words, hmm?" Carlos teased, adding another finger into his torturous slow pace. His eyes were glued to watching your hips out of his periphery, snapping up to try and ride his fingers. As laboured breaths fell from your lips, he pushed his digits even further, aiming to reach a specific spot.
Smoothly, Carlos grabbed a nearby pillow, putting it under your lower back to bring you some comfort and a whole new level of pleasure. He stared at your face intently: your mouth had fallen wide open with a ghost whisper of his name flowing into the air, sweat glistened over your flushed face, pooling near the edges of your hair and neck, and your lips were swollen with the prettiest shade of red he had ever seen.
"Carlos," You managed to get out with your brain practically turning into jelly. "Carlos, please, I don't want to cum like this. I need your cock, please."
Carlos' cock throbbed at your pleas. "Your wish is my command, princesa."
Hearing your whines upon the loss of his fingers, Carlos took off his blue shorts faster than he had ever done in his life.
Even though you had been with Carlos sexually for a while, your cheeks still flamed when you saw his cock. Not out of embarrassment or unadulterated innocence. No. It was outright heat that was getting to you.
Every time you saw his cock, it was a violent shade of red, throbbing and aching, leaving Carlos begging to be touched by you.
You watched as Carlos leaned forward, hovering over you. It was beyond you how exactly pretty Carlos was. You hadn't realised until he started courting you. You had no idea how you were supposed to live without seeing his thicket of brown locks, his freckles that could only be depicted if you were close to him otherwise they blended with his prickly stubble, the smug smile he constantly wore to hide himself, and especially his big brown eyes that made you bend to his command.
"Carlos?" You softly called out.
Carlos' ears perked up at your gentle tone. He smiled down at you with raised brows. His hands continued to travel your body, retracing every curve and fold as he had committed to his memory. "Sí, mi hermosa?"
You ran a hand through his hair before caressing his cheek. God, he was your beautiful boy. "Je t'aime plus que tu ne peux l'imaginer." I love you more than you can imagine.
You knew he didn't speak French despite spending this many years with Charles but it often comes from you naturally when you were too caught up in your feelings.
"Je ne pense pas que ce soit le cas. You don't know how my every feeling is controlled by the look on your face. I can't breathe without you. Every race, I hope you're there waiting for me because you're pretending to wait for Charles. Hermosa, I exist for you. No one else." I don't think you do.
Your eyes widened, fresh tears lining your waterline. "You understood–you learned French?" You whispered, voice barely audible.
Carlos grinned. "I'm quite sure I said a lot of after that but yes, I did learn French for you... surprise!"
You suppressed the urge to push him off of you and gave him a long kiss. Pulling back, you laughed gently. "You're an idiot... making me cry during sex. And not even in the good way!" You feigned your complaint.
"Well, we still have tonight and thirteen more days. Today I'm just showing how much I love you," He whispered above your lips, hips lining up with yours.
You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling Carlos' cock brush past your folds. You both moaned in unison as he pushed his cock into your pussy. Your walls wrapped around his cock tightly, gripping him like a vice.
Carlos cursed several profanities under his breath, head lolling back while pleasure coursed through his body. His arms encircled your waist, pulling you up to sit on his lap. His cock ached at the high-pitched mewl that fell from your swollen lips.
His hands fell to your hips, holding you tightly, slowly shifting you up and down his length, burying his cock in you.
You closed your eyes, letting your forehead rest on Carlos'. You can feel him staring at you, taking all of you in: every hue of your flushed state, your eyelashes riddled with tears and sweat, the heavenly and sinful sounds from your lips, and your greased hair.
"You are breathtaking," Carlos whispered against you.
You smiled, opening your eyes to meet his and rolling your hips slowly in response. "You make me feel so good," You praised.
A rough moan was elicited from Carlos, throat tight and choked up from your words and actions. He could barely function seeing your bare pussy take his cock so well, let alone how the tip of his cock throbbed when he lifted you up. His own eyes were beginning to shut as he revelled in the ecstasy you brought hip.
Fuck, you were so wet. You looked down at your thighs, seeing the obscene sheen of your arousal coat spread to Carlos' thighs. You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip, hips snapping to create a rhythm.
"Carlos, I, fuck," You blabbered in complete disarray. You were beginning to seem the edges of a familiar white light.
Although Carlos appreciated the sign, he could tell by the way you were clenched so tightly around his cock, getting his cock to pulsate every few seconds, that you were going to come.
He moved his hands between your legs, watching you sink over his cock one more time before he obstructed the view by using his thumb to rub your clit in circles.
"Mierda," Carlos cussed, feeling you grip his cock even further if it was possible. "Cum for me, mi amor."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," You repeated the expletive as if it were a mantra, hips bucking as white clouded your vision. You let out a loud moan, body shaking as waves of your climax hit you one after the other.
Not a second later, Carlos was cumming too. His hips rutted against yours in almost an unrecognisable desperation, the peak of his ecstasy right within his grasp. His cock pulsed while his hips came to a falter, stuttering as ropes of his white cum spilled into you, warming your walls.
"F-Fuck," Carlos groaned, feeling your pussy clamp around him, trying to take every last drop of his cum.
You feel Carlos slump forward into you, exhausted. Gently, you lifted yourself off of his cock, wincing at your sensitivity. You fell straight onto the mattress, panting heavily.
"Shit!" You yelped as Carlos pushed some of his leaking come back into and circle your clit. You shook at the mini aftermath of your orgasm before calming back down.
"Satisfied?" You nudged Carlos playfully, knowing damn well Carlos liked to go the extra mile when it came to you.
"Very," Carlos commented, reaching his arms out to bring you closer to him.
You sighed, resting your head on his chest. The exhaustion was very quickly seeping into the both of you. Carlos' heartbeat was beginning to work as a lullaby and Carlos had found your warmth far more comforting than any mattress or duvet.
"Hermosa," He called, making you hum for you had no energy to speak. "We need to tell them."
You found yourself trying to open your eyes. When had they closed? You turned to face him, chin resting on his heated torso. You pressed a brief kiss and said, "I know. Let's tell them in a few days. So they have at least a week to yell at me."
Carlos frowned at your words. "I'll be right there with you. You know that right? I'm not letting you do this alone."
You smiled after letting out a small yawn. "I know, I know. I'm grateful. Thank you, mi amor."
Carlos returned the gesture, kissing your forehead gently. He rubbed your shoulders, feeling the dark abyss of slumber slowly call to him. "Anything for you, hermosa."
© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑
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hellfirenacht · 5 months
Text
Clean (Eddie Munson x Reader)
Summary: After the battle in the Upside Down, you and Eddie try and get clean.
Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, smut, happy ending, no use of y/n, reader is not described, unprotected PiV sex, light choking, pet name, barely beta'd
7.7k words
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You weren’t completely sure how you ended up back in the right side up, in your home with Eddie. After the fight with Vecna, everything was a blur. You remembered sirens, and an earthquake, and you and Eddie being arrested, refusing to be separated from each other but being forced apart anyway. You remember being bailed out somehow, Eddie’s name being cleared and waiting outside the police station for hours until he stumbled out and looked at you. 
Both of you stared at each other for a long time outside the station, battered and bruised and covered in cuts and bite marks, but alive. It was a fucking miracle considering Eddie had thrown himself into a suicide mission. He’d run, distracted the bats and had you not managed to grab him and tackle him into another trailer he’d be dead, you were sure of it. 
Looking at him outside of the station, you were about ready to kill him yourself. Your eyes burned with tears and if looks could kill, he’d be dust. It took everything not to slug him right then and there for daring to think that he could throw his life away like that, for a town that hated him. 
How could you? Your look said. 
I’m sorry. Came the silent reply as he dared to take a step closer. When you didn’t step back, his arms wrapped around you tightly. 
The two of you held each other for a long moment, and each passing second your anger dissolved as the emotions you’d been ignoring and repressing over the past few days started to surface. You couldn’t do this here. You couldn’t allow yourself to process this outside of the police station, not when the two of you were covered in sweat and blood. 
His hand gripped yours tightly, as if you were the last lifeline he had in this world. There was so much more that needed to be done. He had to tell his uncle he was alive, you had to check on Max and the others, Eddie probably needed some sort of lawyer. You had to see Steve and Robin and see what happened with Vecna while the two of you were in holding. 
But it was late, nearly midnight and neither of you had a walkie talkie anymore and the weight of what the two of you had been through was starting to catch up. 
Your apartment was small, cozy even. Eddie walked in with you, having followed you blindly back home. You couldn’t let him go, even when you dropped his hand to get you both some water from the kitchen you were constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure that he was still there, that he was still real. 
The whole time, he was looking at you, too. 
The two of you sat on your bed, hands clasped together tightly as you both tried to figure out what to say or do. You’d won, Vecna was dead and the gates were closed. You were alive, Eddie was alive and his name was cleared. If this was Eddie’s campaign, you two would be heroes, celebrating and drinking and would be standing tall and proud. 
Instead, the two of you were holding hands on your bed. Staring down at the floor as you both tried to sort through the horrors you’d seen in the past four days. Your eyes closed, and you saw everything; the news of Eddie being suspected of murder, the bats attacking, the upside down, Eddie’s back as he ran away-
A tear slid down your cheek and you gripped his hand harder, and in response he squeezed back. You took a deep, slow breath-
“We... stink.” You weren’t sure you meant to say that out loud but it broke the silence between the two of you. Eddie was silent for a few seconds before letting out a breath that almost counted for a laugh.
“Yeah... yeah we probably do. I haven’t showered in... shit. I don’t want to think about it.” He said. 
“We should shower.” You said, not meaning anything by it. 
“We should.” 
The two of you were quiet for another few minutes, neither of you moving. Having Eddie out of your site, even though you knew he’d be in a room that he wouldn’t be able to disappear in, made your stomach twist unpleasantly. 
But he needed a shower, he fucking deserved to hog all the hot water he wanted after what he’d been through. So you stood up, still holding his hand. “I’ll... show you how the shower works.” 
He followed you wordlessly to the bathroom, and you rummaged through your cabinet and pulled out a spare toothbrush for him. Eddie grabbed it and the two of you made your way over to the sink, brushing your teeth as the first step to feeling like a human again. 
“The left one is the hot water.” you said, turning the shower on for him. “And this button makes it a shower and not a bath.” 
He was staring at you, and you had the feeling that what you were saying was the least important thing going through his mind right now. You didn’t blame him. 
“There’s clean towels right there.” you pointed to the towels on the hooks by the sink. 
The water ran, and it was already starting to get a bit foggy in the bathroom. You turned to look at Eddie, who was still staring at you. His mouth partially opened as if he wanted to say something but for once lacking the words. 
“Take all the time you need.” you said, and started towards the door. His hand grabbed yours, stopping you from moving forward. 
“I...” Eddie said, his large doe eyes were looking at yours with a million different emotions. He didn’t want you to go. You didn’t want to leave. 
There had been an underlying tension between the two of you through this whole week. From the finale of his campaign with Hellfire to you saving his life there was something there. You would have always easily admitted that you found Eddie attractive but had never let yourself move past that. 
The moment that he’d disappeared, you felt like your world had blacked out, only returning to  your senses when he’d had you pinned against the wall of Reefer Rick’s boathouse with a broken beer bottle against your throat. You’ll never forget the fear in his eyes, like a wild animal cornered as the glass poked at your neck as his gaze darted between you and the others. 
What a terrible time to realize that you might be in love with Eddie Munson. 
You had been swallowing your emotions all week, focusing on the task at hand. Dustin brought Eddie junk food, you made sure there was something of substance in the grocery run. At least something that he could heat up so he wasn’t surviving on pure sugar. When the others were busy trying to piece together Vecna, you’d kept your own walkie close, updating him every step of the way. 
You don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up to Reefer Ricks as the basketball team seared for Eddie. You’d given him just enough time to escape without suspicion, and as thanks you had been witness to the gruesome murder of Patrick in the water of Rick’s boathouse. 
The memory was pushed down as far as you could, and you were brought back to reality by Eddie taking a hesitant step closer. You had never realized how badly you needed him in your life, the freak who’d given you a place to feel safe in a town where a toe outside of normalcy was seen as a crime. 
You needed him, and by the look in his eyes, he needed you, too. 
There wasn’t anything to say, words wouldn’t do anything in a time where actions meant everything. So you squeezed his hand and pulled it away, reaching up to his shoulders to start pushing off both his battle jacket and leather jacket. The heavy garments fell to the floor and he pushed them away with his foot to a corner. You reached up and pulled off his bandana, freeing his hair and tossing it as well. 
Eddie kneeled down and unlaced his shoes, as well as yours. Your shoes and socks were both discarded as he stood back up. You took his hand again, removing each of his rings carefully followed by his bracelet and watch and setting them on the counter. There was blood in the mouth of the pig ring that made your stomach turn and you looked back at Eddie instead. 
His Hellfire shirt was stained with blood and sweat and god knows what else, and he discarded it quickly. Small cuts and bruises littered his body, and you looked over each visible wound. Distress filled you, and you swallowed hard, trying not to think about the bats attacking and biting him just hours before. You’d been so strong up until now for him, and you’d be strong again until you could finally be alone. 
You weren’t expecting him to cup your jaw and tilt your head up to look at him. His brown eyes looked straight into your own and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes slid close, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the slightly scratchy callouses of his fingertips, the way his hand would squeeze slightly on reflex reminding you that he was here and safe. 
Safe. 
That thought alone nearly broke you as it passed through your mind. Eddie was safe, and he wasn’t dead and he wasn’t going to jail for murder. He was alive and cleared and free. 
You let out a choked sob and tried again to push down everything you were feeling but his hand squeezed tighter and his other hand wrapped around your middle and pulled you close. You let out a shuddering sob against his chest, holding his arm for dear life as you tried to calm yourself. 
It’s... really hard to cry with the scent of blood and sweat and boy filling your nose and shocking your senses. 
You met his eyes as you pulled away, but his hands remained firm on you, keeping you grounded. Eddie’s eyes were red and bloodshot, both of you were exhausted. 
Just hold it together. You said to yourself as you pulled your shirt off over your head, and fought with the button on your jeans. Eddie reached down to help you, his thumbs brushing over the bruise on your hand you’d earned from punching a demobat. You stepped out of your pants and reached for his, dropping the bullet belt on the ground which echoed with an alarming clang. 
“Jesus.” Eddie muttered. 
“Why did Erica even grab that?” you asked, as you both stared at it. “Those bullets don’t even work with Nancy’s gun.” 
It was a question without an answer, one of thousands from this week. 
You went back to his pants, pulling on the belt and.. Well that didn’t work. There was a handcuff around his belt that you tugged on. You’d noticed it before a few times, and had always wanted to question this particular fashion choice. But you never did, not wanting him to know that you had ever glanced at his crotch, no matter how innocent the circumstances. 
“Here, it’s uh... a little fiddly.” Eddie said, moving your hands away as he jiggled the cuff and it opened with a metallic click. You reached out again, removing the offending item and hesitated for a moment as your thumb and forefinger held onto his zipper. 
You looked up at him. Are you sure? He nodded and you pulled down his pants, leaving you both in your underwear.
A gentle push on your shoulder had you turning around as he unclasped your bra, letting it join the rest of the discarded clothes before you slid your fingers into your underwear and pulled them down before you lost the nerve. 
You could hear Eddie let out a shuddering breath and when you turned around there was a red flush underneath the layer of dirt on his face. But he didn’t look down at you, not yet, only focusing on your eyes as he also pulled down his boxers.
Neither of you made a move, only staring up at one another for a long time as the water ran. You took in every detail of his face, as if this was the first and last time you’d seen him. His long hair was a greasy mess, his fringe plastered to his forehead and covered in sweat. Dirt and blood speckled his face and there was a cut on his cheek. 
How were his eyes so impossibly round and expressive? You had no idea how he could wear every emotion on his face and yet still not have a clue what he was thinking. You two stood naked in the bathroom, something that would have been laughable to imagine just a few weeks ago, but now it was the least crazy thing that had happened to you in even twelve hours. 
Eddie made the first move, carefully placing his hand on your lower back and pushing you towards the shower. You stepped in, Eddie right behind you as the hot water hit your skin. You let out a hiss as it hit a cut on your shoulder, but other than that it felt... fucking amazing. 
You reached out of the shower to the sink to grab the antibacterial soap that Eddie had left at your place months before after getting the black widow on his chest done. Your mind flashed to him leaning against the counter with his shirt off as you had carefully cleaned the fresh ink. He’d been making a fuss about how it burned and you had scolded him for going to a shady scratcher’s basement and that he was lucky that he didn’t get an infection. 
Had that only been a few months ago? 
Now his tattoo was healed, but there were new wounds to tend to, new permanent fixtures on his body that you wish were just from an illegal tattoo gun. You grabbed a clean washcloth and finally looked over his body. 
It wasn’t like it was your first time seeing a man naked, and you’d seen Eddie shirtless plenty of times before. There was no denying this was different though, and your eyes wandered down between his legs for just a moment, curiosity getting the better of you in the moment because it was better than letting your mind stay trapped in the Upside Down. 
He wasn’t hard. You didn’t blame him, you doubted you could get aroused in this state. You were both tired and gross. You pulled your focus away from his crotch and back to the washcloth, lathering it up and began to wash his shoulders and neck first. 
Eddie’s hands made their way to your hips, unable to stop himself from touching you. Touching you meant that you both were real. 
He let out a small noise in the back of his throat as you began to gently wash away the gime on his neck and shoulders. Dirt and sweat flowed down each of your bodies from the water stream, and you focused as best you could on cleaning each of the cuts on his body, even if he let out grunts of discomfort. 
Your hands started washing lower, running the cloth against his chest and the black widow you’d cleaned a dozen times for him before. Eddie hissed as the cloth brushed over his hard nipples and you couldn’t tell if it was because it felt good or didn’t. You moved lower, washing his stomach and his hands held your hips tighter. It was becoming a game of chicken to see how far down you’d go. 
You were staring at his dick as your hands hovered at his hip bones. It’s not like you could help it, well, that was a lie, you probably could. But it had twitched just slightly, and your mind had raced with a thousand dirty thoughts. 
Not the time. You scolded yourself as you tried to figure out how to proceed. 
Sensing your hesitation, Eddie reached behind you for another washcloth and turned you around. 
“It.. might be better if I do this part.” he said in your ear and your skin erupted in goosebumps. “Between the lake water and the sweat and everything, yeah. Just, give me a second to do that part myself.”
Jesus Christ, he was talking about washing his ass and your body had still reacted. What the fuck was wrong with you? Well other than falling in love with your friend and Dungeon Master, nearly losing him to monsters, nearly losing him again to the justice system-
Something soft rubbed your back and the tension you’d been holding suddenly evaporated. While you were distracted, Eddie had finished his own business and had grabbed your loofah. He was washing your back in slow circles, getting the dirt off of you as well.
You let out a quiet noise and his hand froze for just a moment before resuming. Maybe in another timeline you would have been embarrassed about the noise you made, but not this time. Not when you were touch starved from him, not when he was naked and touching you, not when you two felt impossibly close and yet still so fucking far apart. It was a balancing act, a dance that neither of you knew the music to. Each movement was careful, hesitant, as if one wrong move might scare the other away. 
There will be no more retreating from Eddie, the Banished. Did that extend to you? With the way his fingers slid down your spine you were assuming so. One hand was firmly on your shoulder to keep you in place (as if you were ever going to move away) while the other ran your loofah over your sides. 
He turned you around, endlessly deep brown eyes meeting yours while his hand holding the loofa twitched just slightly. It was his turn to look down at your body fully, eyes raking down over your chest, your hips, and your legs. You saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed, looking back up at your eyes. 
When you gave him a nod, Eddie reached out again, working the loofah over your neck and shoulders. You tilted your head back, letting him get as much grime off you as possible before his hand moved lower, running over your breasts carefully. Eddie’s eyes darted between your chest and your face for any sign that this was too much, that he’d gone too far. But you only leaned closed to him, resting your hands on his forearms as he washed you. His hands drifted lower, not lingering too much on your breasts when getting clean was more important than the hormones that were starting to stir in both of you. 
Just like you had, his hands stopped at your hips, just above your mound. You turned him around the same way he had for you, deciding that you could also wash your own ass for the time being. 
You closed your eyes as you washed yourself, imagining a world where taking a shower with Eddie wasn’t the result of a week of trauma. Maybe he’d joke about how he’d make your tits squeaky clean and you’d respond with a joke about him dropping the soap. Maybe in another life the two of you would be blasting music and he’d be rambling about the latest song he was learning on guitar while you two swapped off who was under the hot water. 
Your bodies were clean now, Eddie taking the free moment to wash off his legs and feet while you did the same. You pulled him back around and reached up to his face with a warmed washcloth, and his hands went back to your hips. Once you were satisfied with that, you grabbed the shampoo and conditioner. 
“Sit down.” you said quietly. 
The tub was comfortable enough for one person to lay in and stretch out but it was more cramped with two. Eddie sat down and you sat behind him, working the shampoo through his hair slowly, your fingers digging into his scalp. Eddie tilted his head back and let out a moan as you massaged and scratched at his head. 
There was a small part of you that said that you shouldn’t be having a reaction to this, that you two had just gone through something terrible and this wasn’t the time to unpack those feelings. 
You told that part of your brain to shove it. 
You peered over Eddie’s shoulder as you worked the lather through his hair, and took in a deep shuddering breath as your gaze was met with his cock standing at full attention. The warmth inside of you was growing as well, made hotter by his constant groans and murmurs of enjoyment. 
You rinsed his hair, and started working the conditioner through his ends. 
“Let that sit for a bit.” you instructed and he made a noise of understanding. You quickly worked on cleaning your own hair, and as the last of the sweat, blood, and tears slid down the drain you were now faced with it being just the two of you, naked, raw, and alive. 
Eddie turned around and leaned against the back of the tub and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in as well. He pressed your back against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder. You leaned back into him, letting him hold you as the warm water washed over you both. 
Your hands reached down to his, and his fingers immediately laced with yours. Around you there was only the thick steamy air and the warmth and safety of the shower. Your fingers rubbed against his, unused to the bare skin without the heavy metal rings he wore. You wondered briefly if they were silver or pewter or some other metal. 
Something soft on your shoulder brought you back to reality, A shiver ran down your back as Eddie’s lips placed small kisses along your clean, wet skin. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. 
The kisses stopped after a moment, and he pulled you closer until you were completely flushed against him. His cock was pressing into your back, and you felt him shift his hips to try and find a way to have you close without bothering you about his physical reaction. 
You shifted in his arms, turning around to face him. The porcelain dug into your knees, but you ignored it to look at Eddie. His eyes were wide and everything stood still. He reached for you again, placing his hand on your jaw, his thumb resting on your cheek. In return you held onto his shoulders, one hand on the side of his neck. 
It didn’t matter who moved first. It didn’t matter if his hand pulled you in or if you had leaned after you looked at his lips. All that mattered is that Eddie’s grip on you tightened and his mouth was on yours and you were pressing up against him and his hands were moving around you and-
You slipped, your knee sliding against the soaked porcelain and your body was pressed fully against his. Eddie’s hard cock was pressed against your stomach, and he jumped at the sudden accidental movement. 
“Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up a bit to check on you. 
No, you weren’t okay. And you didn’t think you’d be okay until he kissed you again. So instead of answering you kissed him again, deeper than before. He didn’t hesitate in responding to the kiss, his hands were sliding around you again, rubbing your back as your fingers tangled in his hair. 
The two of you stayed like that for a long time, meeting each other’s lips over and over again as the hot water fell on you. You’d occasionally shift and feel his cock rub against your stomach and he’d moan into your mouth in response. You liked that, and found every reason to squirm and rub against him as the two of you kissed. 
Eddie’s tongue pressed into your mouth, as easily as if the two of you had kissed a thousand times before. You moaned as he did, the taste of your toothpaste still lingering in his mouth melded with the taste of him. The moan only encouraged him to keep going, exploring your mouth and licking against a spot behind your front teeth that made you shudder. 
The water was getting cooler and it took everything inside of you to finally pull away. Eddie looked up at you with a hint of confusion on his face as to why you pulled back. 
“Did I-” he started and you shook your head. 
“Water’s getting cold. We should get out.” you said. 
He nodded and the two of you untangled from each other and helped each other stand up. You finished rinsing the last of the conditioner from Eddie’s hair before turning off the water and stepping out, grabbing you each a towel. He took it from your hand and wrapped it around your shoulders, using it as an excuse to touch you and pull you into another kiss. 
Your arms wrapped around his neck and he pushed you up against the wall, needing the closeness as much as you did. Each press of his lips was slightly different each time, as if he was trying to decide the best way to kiss you, or maybe to just have the chance to kiss you every way he could. Making up for lost time? Making up for the uncertain future? It was hard to tell. 
“I’m here.” You don’t know why you said it, but those two words slipped out of your mouth in the two seconds that Eddie had pulled away to breathe. 
He was panting, and staring intently at you, his look of surprise mirrored your own thoughts. Then his mouth was on you again, kissing you rougher, holding you tighter, his hands were grabbing at you in a near bruising grip. Eddie’s cock was rubbing against your hip now, and he groaned feeling your soft skin against him. You could feel your own wetness start to pool between your legs as you kissed back, trying to keep up with him. 
“I’m here, too.” His voice echoed back. 
Your hips rocked up against him, and up bit his lower lip, sucking on it hard. He groaned again, and grabbed at your breast, squeezing it before rubbing his thumb against your nipple. You squirmed at the touch, and all you wanted was to be closer, closer, closer. 
When Eddie pulled back, it was your turn to look confused. You were dazed from the kiss, breathless with your heart pounding in your chest. 
“Eds...?” 
“Bedroom.” He pulled himself away from you like ripping a bandaid off. You followed his lips, kissing him again and he shuddered, stumbling back towards the door and reaching blindly for the doorknob. 
With some fumbling, you both managed to stumble into your room, lips locked together. It was cooler outside of the bathroom, and you could feel goosebumps raised along his arms as you both fell back into your bed. 
You wasted no time straddling him, pushing him down by his shoulders and giving him quick rough kisses. 
“Don’t you-” you kissed him “ever” you bit his lower lip “run like that” another bruising kiss “again.”. 
“I won’t” he replied, running his hand to the back of your neck and squeezing it. “I won’t. I won’t run.” 
Before you could capture his lips again, he pulled you down by your neck and latched his mouth against your throat. Eddie wasted no time with soft kisses, immediately sucking hard on the skin and pulling the blood to the surface until a deep bruise bloomed on your neck. You cursed, and ground your hips down on his cock, feeling the length drag against your clit. 
Eddie hissed and kissed the spot lightly where he’d been sucking. His hands gripped your hips, moving his own in rhythm with yours in a desperate attempt to get friction on his leaking cock. One hand slid down to grab your thigh, squeezing the back of it in a way that made your hips shudder and sparks of pleasure shoot right to your core. 
“Fuck, Eddie.” you whispered. 
Hearing his name had him grabbing you and rolling you below him, kissing your neck more. His lips trailed up to right below your ear, breathing in deeply before moving his mouth down to your chest. 
Eddie latched onto one of your nipples and sucked hard, making you gasp and arch your back up. His hand slid down, lower and lower until it was between your legs, sliding a finger through your slit with a trembling hand. The touch to your sensitive folds made you let out a small giggle at the feeling and your hips jerked again before settling back down. 
“Fuck, you’re soaked.” Eddie said, talking to himself more than he was talking to you. He played with your entrance for a moment as he kissed and sucked along your breasts, sliding two fingers through your folds and stroking your clit with careful circles. 
You wanted to beg for more, roll your hips and tell him to keep going, but you couldn’t. If this was any other scenario, you would have. But when his head tilted back to look at you, all words died down in your mouth. This wasn’t something that you two could rush, not now, not after everything. This was more than just sex, more than a desperate quickie after the heat of battle. This was something you didn’t have a name for yet, but you two would figure out in time. 
Eddie leaned over you more, resting one arm by your head. His wet hair ticked your shoulders, and looking up at him, you thought about how a few hours earlier, you were on top of him like this as well, shielding him from monsters. He leaned down and kissed you again as he slid a finger into your entrance. 
Your hands gripped his shoulders, gasping into his mouth. He pumped his fingers in and out slowly, never letting your lips disconnect. Eddie was fingering you, Eddie who’d all but bullied you into joining Hellfire when you were the new kid. The same Eddie who you’d bickered and squabbled with regularly because you two loved to get on each other's nerves. The same Eddie who you’d seen cry when no one else was looking over the death of Chrissy Cunningham-
Another finger slid in carefully and this time he did pull back, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort. Instead he found your face warmed and your lips parted in pleasure. You let out a small moan as he moved his fingers again, your nails digging into his shoulder. 
A quiet cry escaped your lips as he curled his fingers inside you, moving them back and forth until you gave him the signal that he had found the right spot. His name escaped your lips in a way he never dreamed that he’d hear. Eddie’s forehead pressed against yours again, taking in every reaction as his fingers explored your inner walls. 
His thumb brushed over your clit, stroking it in shaky and clumsy circles. As unpracticed as it was, it felt good. It felt good because it was him, and because you needed him, and when the fuck was the last time you had even had a chance to get off with everything going on?
“Eddie,” you panted as you moved your hands to his jaw. You kissed him again, and he kissed you back. His fingers sped up, pressing more into that sweet spot that was turning your brain off, removing any thoughts of the Upside Down, or of the shared trauma you now held. Right now, there was only you and Eddie and a mind-numbing pleasure that was building up inside you.
“It’s okay.” he whispered, his hand shaking a little. “Tell me what you need, please.” Eddie looked at you like getting you off was the most important thing he could do right now. You’d only seen this look in his eyes once as he’d cut the sheet rope that connected the two worlds-
“Tell me you’re here.” you begged, the words spilling out without thought. “Fuck, Eddie- just tell me you’re here. That you aren’t going- oh... oh God, please-”
“I’m here.” His voice sounded desperate, looking down at you. “I’m here, I swear. I’m not going anywhere again I- I’m so fucking sorry. I’m here, I’m here, Sweetheart.” 
It was that simple nickname that had you tumbling over the edge. That pet name that had always been reserved only for his guitar. His lips crashed onto yours as you reached your peak, swallowing your moans as your pussy clamped down around his fingers. Your body tensed up hard, and you tangled your fingers into his hair pulling at the roots. Eddie moaned at the feeling, his fingers faltering for a moment before slowing down and then finally pulling out. 
Immediately you felt empty, the orgasm not enough to satiate the need to have him as close as possible. You could still feel your pussy contracting as you came down from your orgasm, and you realized he was still talking. 
“‘M here.” Eddie whispered against your temple as he placed gentle pecks to your skin. “I’m here. I won’t leave again.” 
“I need you, Eds.” you said, looking up at him. “Fuck, I’ve needed you for so long.”
You hoped that he understood what you were saying. This was more than needing him inside you, this was about everything you two had been through together over the past few years. Every Hellfire Club meeting, every Tuesday at the Hideout, every shared joint between the two of you, every shitty study session that never went anywhere because you two would get too distracted and end up talking to each other about everything and nothing. 
You needed it, all of it, all of him. Eddie had made an indent on your life that you never wanted straightened out. You could not, and would not, conceive of a world without Eddie Munson in it. His death would have destroyed you in every possible way. 
Friendship, romance, sex, you didn’t care. If he was willing to just exist in your life, that’s all you fucking wanted. 
You didn’t even notice that you were crying again, until Eddie was wiping away your tears with his clean hand. He had a panicked look on his face as if worried that he’d done something wrong. 
“Shit, I’m sorry. Did we take this too far?” he asked, grabbing a tissue from your bedside table and wiping his own hand off before offering one to you. You took it and shook your head, wiping your eyes and trying to take in a deep breath. 
“No, not that’s not it.” you said. “I just... I was so scared that I was going to lose you, Eddie. I’m still scared that when everything is done you’re going to disappear on me again.”
Eddie looked down at you, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “I thought I was doing the right thing, buying them more time.” he said quietly. “I thought if I could keep them distracted for just a few more minutes, everything would work out. If I had climbed back up, I thought- I was convinced the bats would either break in and attack you and Dustin or they’d go after the others.”
“You’re stupid.” you sniffed. 
“I know.” he agreed. 
“A total buttface jerk.” you added. 
“Yeah, you’re right.” Eddie spread your legs more, putting himself into position. His cock was sliding through your folds now. 
“Y-you’re a freak and my fucking hero.” you gasped out as he pushed himself inside you carefully. Eddies cock stretched you pleasantly and easily. 
“I’m getting mixed signals here, Sweetheart.” he mumbled, kissing along your jaw. Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, and you pushed your own face against his neck, sucking your own mark against the front of his throat. You didn't care if anyone else saw, you wanted to see proof of this night on him. 
You wanted proof on him every night for the rest of your life. 
“I'm never running away again.” he groaned in your ear as his hips started moving. Eddie held you tighter, nearly suffocating you as he did. How many times had he hugged you like this before, with you laughing and pushing him away, only for him to squeeze you harder telling you that your Strength stat sucked? 
“I'll find you.” You whispered in his ear as he grabbed your thigh, lifting it to wrap around his hips. “I'll find you every time, I fucking promise.”
He moaned loudly, his hips pushing harder into yours. Eddie was as deep inside you as he could possibly be, and each drag of his cock inside you made every nerve light up in your body. 
“Why did you come after me?” Eddie's voice was a near growl. His voice was strained, as if asking that question would snap the connection between the two of you. His lips never left your skin, kissing every inch that he could reach on your neck and face. 
“I couldn't let you- ohh oh God... I couldn't let you go. Couldn't let you disappear again” your body shuddered under him as his angle shifted slightly, just enough that it was rubbing up against that spot again that made it hard to think. 
“You could have died too.” Eddie's voice rattled around your head, frustration dripping from his lips as he sank his teeth into your shoulder. You cried out, dragging your nails down his spine in return, leaving raised marks down his back. 
He hissed and smashed his lips to your again, biting at your lower lip and sucking hard. Eddie looked at you, frustration now in his eyes as he looked down at you. 
It seemed like you weren't the only one processing your emotions through sex. 
“You could have died too.” He repeated. One hand went to the back of your neck, his thumb pressing right below your ear. You met his eyes, suddenly feeling small under him. 
Eddie had only ever looked at you like this once before. You two had a blow up fight the night that Chrissy had been murdered. You'd been so fucking mad at him for not moving Hellfire, having missed that whole conversation as you had a different lunch period. 
You hadn't learned about it until Erica Sinclair had walked in with Mike and Dustin. You'd swallowed the fight until after the campaign, when everyone was celebrating and Eddie was sneaking towards the back of the gym. 
It hadn't been pretty. You two had yelled at each other, called each other every name in the book. You were furious that he'd abandoned a party member and wouldn't budge. 
Eddie had hated that you were the only one to really stand up to him, to call him out for refusing to budge this one time. His brown eyes had turned black as you said things that didn't even fucking matter anymore. 
You saw him leave pissed with Chrissy Cunningham. You wondered if anyone else saw you two fighting that night which would have made him look worse when the cheerleader showed up dead in his trailer. 
Another moan passed your lips and your eyes closed as he started thrusting faster inside you. His hand on your neck tightening and loosening rhythmically, the blood running to your head and cutting off over and over again. 
“I can't lose you either.” He panted, kissing you again in a way that you were sure was going to screw you up forever. “You think I wanted to watch you die, too?” He demanded. 
“Eddie, I-” you didn't know what to say, all you could do was lay there as he mercilessly pushed into you, watching as the anger turned to anguish as he leaned over you. 
“Look at me,” he said, his voice low and firm. The same subtle husky voice he used when he ran his game, the same voice he'd conditioned you to listen to over the past year. 
You nearly came again right there.  
Eddie’s warm brown eyes bore into yours and you didn't look away, even as his pace hit that perfect stride that had your toes curl and made your eyes want to roll back.  
“If I can't run away, you can throw yourself into danger.” He said. “I'm not losing you either.”
“Not gonna lose me-” you panted. “Fuck Eddie, I just-” your back arched as his lips sucked another bruise into your shoulder. “Don't put yourself in danger again and I won't have to.”
“We’re never doing that again.” he grunted into your shoulder. “No more monsters, no more fucking spellcasters, no bullshit alternate dimensions.” His hands were everywhere, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted or needed to grab you. “Gonna get us as far away from this shithole town as possible.”
Us. 
That word echoed through your brain. Us. That meant there was something more here, a future. A future with Eddie that he wanted you to be a part of. 
You kissed him again, and any more words between you died down as it didn’t mean anything anymore. The Upside Down, the future, none of it. Eddie’s hand finally made its way down to your clit again and stroked it fast. You tangled your fingers into his hair and pulled at the roots, his hips were starting to falter with their thrusts. Each push making your brain grow hazy as the pleasure continued to build inside you. 
Eddie pulled away from the kiss, pressing his lips against your ear again instead. “I’m here.” he promised. “Fuck, right- I’m right here.”
“I’m here, too” you repeated, your own voice breathy and desperate. “Eddie, I-” 
“I love you.” 
Those three words from his lips, had you seeing white. The whole world stopped and your body tensed up. Your nails sank into his back, and if you had been in a more clear state of mind you would have noticed you’d accidentally drawn blood. You cried out, unsure if you had managed to say those words back at all until the orgasm had started to subside. You felt dizzy, lightheaded and you breathed out the air that you had been hoarding in  your lungs. 
Eddie was staring at you with wide doe eyes, lips parted slightly in surprise. His hips were rocking slower now, as if unsure if he should continue after having apparently shattered your mind.
“I... love you, too.” you managed to gasp out, meeting his gaze. That was enough for Eddie as he picked his pace back up, rougher than before. He pressed his lips against your neck, breathing you in completely, listening to your overstimulated cries of pleasure as he pushed faster into you. 
It didn’t take long before he was cumming too, his hips jerking and shaking as he finally slowed down his thrusts. His weight was fully on top of you now as he started to soften inside you. 
You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, with him laying on you and with you stroking his back and matching his breaths. Maybe the two of you dozed off a few times, trying to savor the moment of peace between the two of you. 
Eddie was the one to break the silence with a chuckle. 
“What’s so funny, Eddie?” you asked, your eyes still closed. 
“We’re gonna need another shower after that.” he replied, slowly getting up off you. It was cold without his warmth and you whined at the loss. 
“Sounds like a tomorrow problem.” you mumbled, looking up at him. His curly hair was frizzing badly in its half-dried state. But he still got up and went to the bathroom, you heard the sound of running water and the a toilet flushing before he came back with a towel to clean help clean you up. 
“Did you mean what you said?” you asked quietly, as he settled back into bed with you, the two of  you getting over the sheets. 
Eddie nodded, looking at your blankets before meeting your gaze. “Yeah, I did.”
“Good.” you said and gave him a reassuring smile. “Because I don’t want to fight anymore monsters either again.” 
“Wait that’s-” Eddie stopped and laughed, shaking his head. “You know what I meant.”
“I know.”
“Did you mean it?” He asked. 
“Yeah. I meant it.” you reassured him. 
“Say it again?” he asked, cupping your jaw again. “I want to know it wasn’t just my amazing dick making you say it.”
You laughed. It felt so fucking good to laugh with him again. Had there been any doubt about your feelings for him, that would have sealed it. 
“Eddie Munson, I love you.” you said, looking into his eyes. “And if you ever do something stupid like that again, I’m going to be the one to kill you personally.”
“I love you, too.” he said, and for the first time in a week, his eyes were clear. There was no haunted look in his eyes, no anger, no frustration. For this brief night before reality came back the two of you could just exist with each other. Neither of you knew what was going to happen after this evening, but you knew in your gut that the two of you were going to get through this together. 
----
Please comment and reblog <3
Alternative title: Use Your Tears As Lube
If you cried you have to legally tell me. I'm keeping count.
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weeknd-ogoc · 5 months
Text
BEAUTIFUL ⋆.*ೃ✧ LOGAN SARGEANT
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SUMMARY: in which logan makes sure to never treat you the way you got treated before. (ft. oscar piastri)
FACE CLAIM: noriella
CONTAINS: memories of toxic ex!oscar, some angst, logan being a sweetheart, reader trying to unlearn toxic behavior!
AUTHOR'S NOTE: this was origanlly supposed to be posted on friday but i had things come up so anyways i'm happy they renewed logan's contract, i was literally stressing out about it!!
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ynusername
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ynusername missed being in new york
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logansargeant my very beautiful girl! 😍
ynusername thank you, my loveee 😚
username ahh why are you so pretty
icespice hmu girlyy
username 😍😍
username why does she never post logan??
username he literally took this picture of her and he posted her on his story this morning! username right!! she used to post oscar all the time! username ya'll are so weird it's literally her page
username im gripping my sheets so tight right now
just before the formula one season could be over, you had invited logan to come meet your family and friends over in new york and so far he was winning your friends over.
"ugh he's so good to you!" your best friend smiled as she looked at logan who was going up to the cashier to pay the check.
"he's very cute." your other best friend agreed. "so much better than oscar..."
you awkwardly chuckled as you remembered the time oscar had came to new york and promised you he would meet everyone for dinner but it never happened due to him supposedly forgetting about the dinner and never showed up — your friends and family saw how you were stopping your life just to chase after oscar but they could see how it is very different with logan.
once logan returned you all said your goodbyes and the two of you headed outside, like the gentleman he was he opened the door for you. he saw that you shivered on your walk down the block to his car so he wrapped his coat around you. "it's too cold out here, maybe you can come to florida with me next week to meet my folks and friends?"
you wrapped your arms around his neck and nodded. "i would love to meet them."
he kissed your lips and rested his forhead on yours. "god, i love you." he quickly realized what he said and tried laughing it off. "i'm sorry that slipped out." he then winced at his choice of words. "well i do love you but i know it may be too soo-"
you kissed him once more and even if you weren't sure of your feelings for him, you decided to say the words you knew he wanted to hear from you. "i love you too sargeant."
logansargeant
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ynusername ah i love you!!! 💙
logansargeant i love you more!
username im in shock right now
username you see how he posts her more 😭
liamlawson30 happy for you man!
logansargeant thank you!
username i know oscar is crying somewhere
landonorris probably username lando no 😭😭😭
username ugh you guys are so cute
landonorris 😧 i didn't know y/n was down like that
ynusername well only for logan 🤭 liked by logansargeant
oscar piastri had found himself alone looking at old photos of the two of you that he had on his phone — the both of you had been seeing each other for a few months but never made it official, just because he never wanted to put a label on it and before he knew it you had fallen into the hands of an old friend of his.
"no it's all good, i'm happy for you guys..." he remembered telling logan. "i'm glad the both of you are happy."
he didn't blame you for moving on, he treated you real shitty for the very few months you guys were together. you had stopped everything going on in your life just to be there for him and he couldn't find himself to do the same for you.
"promise you'll show up for dinner?" you had asked oscar as he was getting ready to go hang out with lando for a few hours. "my friends and family will all be there."
"i already told lando i had to leave by six so i can make it to the restaurant on time." he remembered swearing that he would be there on time. "wouldn't miss it for the world."
hours later you had found yourself having dinner with everyone and oscar was nowhere to be found.
"i mean we're not even dating yet, what's the rush to meet her family?" he asked lando who was taking pictures of the city. "i'm not even sure if i can see us together in the long run."
lando knew the way oscar was treating you and he spoke up about it a few times to him, he even tried getting you to leave him but the both of you just never listened.
"she's a cool girl, what's not to like about her? plus i think she is way better than the last girl, the pescatarian." lando then shrugged. "but if that's how you feel just skip it."
so that was exactly what he did.
the next morning he knew the two of you were supposed to go to breakfast around nine so he went over to your apartment to pick you up and you had been sitting on your porch in pajamas.
"that's how you're going?" he chuckled. "i mean you look cute s-"
you rolled your eyes at him. "what happened last night?"
"last night?"
yeah, in that moment he thought playing dumb was his best option.
if you could throw the pot of flowers at his head without going to jail you probably would do it. "last night. what the fuck happened to you?"
he saw people trying to look outside of your window from your house and he turned back to you. "get in the car, we'll tal-"
“not until you tell me what why you miss-” 
he looked at your window once more and saw that they were still looking out. "can you not yell right now..." he rubbed his forehead and looked back at you. “alright stop being dramatic and just get in the car.” 
he talked like this to you whenever you guys got into arguments except this time he was being quieter, you knew your parents were most likely looking out the window which is why he wasn't yelling back at you.
he looked once more to the window and saw that they were gone so he quickly walked over to you and tried dragging you towards his car but you were not budging like you usually did. “can we please just go? i don't get why this has to be a big fucking thing.” 
you scoff and shrug his arm off your wrist. "i think you need to leave oscar."
he knew he was about to lose his temper with you so instead of saying something rude he clenched his jaw and pinched the bridge of his nose. "fine, we can talk whenever you get over this stupid thing."
as he turned around to walk away, you grabbed his wrist.
him not fight back was making your blood boil. "i don't understand this oscar, what we have going on!"
the change in your voice made him upset because he knew he had no right to be mad at you, he was the one that stood up you and the people who meant the most to you.
"one minute you're treating me like i'm the love of your life and the next minute you act like i mean nothing to you." he saw your lower lip trembles as you spoke. “i will not allow yo-” 
he knew where this was going so he began mumbling out little apologies but you shook your head. "i deserve better than this oscar."
he knew that at the time he couldn't give you better so he let you go.
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ynusername i like florida weather better ☀️
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lilymhe please why are you so hot 😍
ynusername 😚😚 alex_albon delete these comments rn ynusername stop being a hater
username in y/n we trust
username alright we're getting better with the posting
logansargeant i think you should marry me
ynusername yes, buy me my ring :))
logan remembered the time he had introduced you to oscar, he really thought you wouldn't find interest in someone like him but you did and soon after he regretted introducing you guys — months later he once overheard an argument that oscar and you had, he quickly learned that the person he knew most of his whole life was not the best person.
"oscar, why don't you just take a walk..." he told him as he heard the argument getting more serious.
oscar huffed and walked back to where lando was.
"does he always talk to you like that?"
you sighed as you sat on the bench. "sometimes but it was my fault, i should've just listened to him..."
he made sure to let you know that he's be there for you if you ever needed to talk and you did go to him a few times.
he hated how oscar treated you, if it had been him he'd give you the whole world. it was so stupid to introduce you guys.
"you deserve better than that y/n." he told you after you had called him about oscar missing dinner. "i have to go but i'll see you on sunday for the race in miami!"
he didn't see you that day or two weeks later in italy.
during media day in italy, he overheard lando tell oscar that you leaving him was for the best since the relationship was toxic. he was glad you had finally left him and invited you to race in monaco.
"sure logan, i'll be there for you!"
from then on the both of you were almost inseparable, you had modeling gigs so you couldn't always be there for his races but he flew out to see you whenever he could.
he dreaded the day when he had to tell oscar that the two of you were seeing each other but it had to be done. "we just connected a little while after you guys stopped talking and then i recently asked her out so i just wanted to tell you that."
oscar nodded. "i'm glad the both of you are happy, especially her because she really deserves something good in her life."
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username not oscar in her likes
logansargeant MY QUEEN 💙
username love u so baddd
oscarpiastri 😍
username stand up oscar! username logan come get ur girl before oscar does
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alexandrasaintmleux bonitaa
you slammed the door on logan as you walked into his apartment but you sighed and quickly opened it for him. "i'm sorry i didn't mean to close it on you."
he knew you were trying to unlearn certain things that you had done with oscar in the past so he was always super patient with you and tried giving you space when he thought you needed it.
he sat next to you on the couch and tried reaching out for your hand but you shrugged it off. "i wasn't trying to accuse you of seeing him but when i saw oscar's name pop up on your pho-"
he knew you were still mad after you stood up from the couch with a huff. "i haven’t spoken to him since that day logan!"
you sighed once more because he never raised his voice with you and you headed into his bedroom but he followed you, knowing that you didn't mean to raise your voice.
“ugh i suck, you are so kind with me and i'm trying to not do these things and i jus-"
he softly tugged on your arm to get you to face him and tried to move one of the strands in your hair to your ear but you sorta flinched as he rose his arm.
you quickly turned to look away from him, hoping he didn’t just notice that and start asking questions. “um, can i just have a minute log-“
he knew the way your body reacted when you were irritated and that was definitely not it. “did he hit you before?” he asked and as you shook your head no. “i swear to god if he did i-“
“no.” you sat at the edge of his bed and he sat next to you. “our arguments got pretty bad sometimes and there were times that maybe i thought he would but he never did…”
he pulled you onto his lap and held your hands in his. "you do know i would never do anything anything like that to you, right?” he got you to look up to him. "like ever."
you nodded and rested your head on his shoulder. "i know that."
he held you by the waist and let your bodies fall into the bed and you felt his eyes on you so you look back up to him — he looked at you differently this time and it just made you struggle to keep yourself all together.
"you are so beautiful like ridiculously beautiful."
you rolled your eyes as your cheeks were burning hot and brought his face down for a kiss. "and you're ridiculously handso-"
he kissed you once more and pulled away, lips barely touching yours.
and just before he could say the word he wanted to tell you, you had jumped to straddle him and already beaten him to it. "i love you so mu-"
he quickly started tickling you for saying it first and flipped you over so now he was hovering you, the sounds of your beautiful laughter was like music to his ears.
"alright, i'm sorry!" you giggled and tried pushing him off but instead he kissed you softly. "you're forgiven, i love you."
the next kiss you guys shared was a little more rough and your hand began to pull down his zipper from his jeans. "need to reward you for getting your contract renewed."
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username aww you guys got a dog?? 😭
ynusername we did! her name is crystal!
username ugh you guys compliment each other so well
francisca.cgomes when's the next wag renuion?
lilymhe we should definitely fly out to paris! ynusername i'll be free next weekend! alexandrasaintmleux guess we're all going to paris next weekend!
username me and who??
username when is it my turn 😩
logansargeant 💙
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ynusername 💙 alex_albon what i thought lily and i were??? williamsracing oh gtg 🏃🏻‍♂️
logan and you had recently bought an apartment together in florida and as you sat on the porch with crystal, you saw a familiar car pull up.
you've got to be kidding me.
"why are you here oscar?" you asked as he walked towards you.
he shrugged and sat on the chair next to you. "i've been in florida for about a week, i wanted to see if maybe we could've given us another sho-"
you shook your head and stood up. "don't, it's been over for us."
oscar nodded and stood up. "i know that now, i saw you guys the other day and you looked incredibly happy and you deserve that happiness..."
logan was walking outside with your cup of tea but quickly stopped himself when he saw oscar. "everything okay?"
you nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. "i'll be in a second."
he nodded and walked inside, crystal following behind him. you had never given him any reason to think you were doing something you weren't supposed to be doing so he let you guys talk but made sure to keep a close eye.
"i'm sorry for the way i treated you those months, it was a very shitty thing to do because you never deserved that and honestly i feel like maybe i shouldn't have came to tell you all of this." he rubbed his forhead and looked towards his car. "i don't know i just think deep down i wanted to know how you still felt about me or if maybe we could still be friends..."
you sighed. "i dont know if you're looking for forgiveness or what but i know i didn't deserve how you treated me so i forgive you but we can not be friends oscar so i need you to please leave."
he nodded and began walking towards his car but turned back to you, who was already walking inside your house. "you're truly happy?"
you turned back to him and nodded. "happiest i have ever been, i love logan and he treats me good."
once you got back inside oscar watched your window from the inside his of his car — he had kissed your forhead and you looked up to him with the same bright eyes you once gave him, except now they shined even brighter for him.
if only he had treated you better before then maybe instead of logan he could've had this same ending with you.
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my f1 & f2 masterlist!
© weeknd-ogoc, 2023
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starsxblazing · 4 months
Note
Hi! Could I request Azriel who’s mated to the youngest Archeron sister who loves their human traditions. Az finds her celebrating alone despite a whole party being set up, and learns she feels forced to attend solstice or starfall, maybe Rhys even scares her into it a bit, but when she worked hard to set up parties on human holidays, but her sisters always choose starfall? And she feels they force her to adapt to fae traditions while not even her sisters, let alone the others, even acknowledge human holidays, even though feyre said she considers both worlds her home. One that ends in a confrontation with angst would be nice, but happy ending or not is up to you, thanks.
I could have made a small series out of this ask and I really and truly enjoyed writing it. I had intended on a happy ending but this is pushing 5k words and would have taken a lot more for it. I hope it was along the lines of what you wanted!
---
Cause and Effect
From the moment that you were shoved in the cauldron, your life had changed to the point that you weren’t sure what to do. It had hurt that your own sister hadn’t bothered to stop what had happened to you, Nesta, and Elain but you understood since her friend was injured. Being the youngest of all of the Archeron sisters meant that you were always looked over. Nesta had always been worried about Elain and even though you were only a year younger than Feyre, it never made any difference. 
You had always felt horrible that Feyre was the one responsible for keeping all of you fed but your sister refused to let you go with her when she hunted. There had always been an urge to help and try to make things better but as always, you were shoved to the back burner. Most human holidays were forgotten but for some reason, you remembered one in particular. No matter the fact that you tried each year to celebrate it, you were either scoffed at or told that it didn’t matter.
It was something that you held close to your heart because it brought you joy and you wanted it to do the same for your father and sisters. You were different from them in the sense that you wanted to do nothing but spread love and joy but everyone around you was too miserable to care. 
The fae had their own traditions in separate courts you had learned but that piece of you that loved your holiday felt as if it were slowly dying. It had hurt your heart to see Feyre go back to the original court that she had once wanted to go to but you stayed silent and a few feet away from your other two older sisters. Mor had all three of you in an instant as soon as she was able to and took the three of you to a home that you were unfamiliar with.
Your thoughts would linger on the injured males that had been bleeding out in Hybern’s castle as you moved between Nesta and Elain so that you weren’t alone for the three hours that passed. Neither paid you any attention which only added to the hurt. It had been a traumatizing situation for the three of you and you were all trying to cope in your own ways. It didn’t stop the fact that you wished someone would pay you some attention for once in your life. 
Mor had come back to check on all of you after a few hours and she had been the first one in years to show you some genuine kindness. She led you to a room that you would be able to call your own so that you could find your own way to cope. Once she left, giving you a small smile before she did so, you took a moment to admire where you were. The room was huge considering what you had been used to with the bed being just as big. The balcony was what caught your attention the most and you knew that you would spend the most of your time there.
You found yourself enamored with the house that you learned was called the House of Wind. Mor had been the only one that had visited over the course of two days and you reveled in the attention that you were getting, even if it wasn’t a lot. On the third day, one of the males that had been injured returned to the House to see how the three of you were doing. You were instantly entranced with how handsome that he was, especially when he gave you a gentle smile. His eyes went wide when you smiled brightly at him and he stumbled a step as if he were in shock.
**
Azriel had been concerned about the three of his High Lady’s sisters so as soon as he was healed, he made his way up to the House. Only the youngest of the sisters could be seen since she had just finished eating. As soon as their eyes met, he was unable to resist the small smile that he had given you. It wasn’t until you gave him a genuine smile that shock overtook him. The warmth of a golden thread spread through him and it was all that he could do to regain his composure.
“How are you doing?” he asked in a gentle voice as he restrained himself from touching you. 
“I’m still trying to adjust and learn what all of this means,” you answered honestly as you looked around the dining room. “It’s sort of disorienting.”
“I can only imagine.” You gave him another bright smile at his words when your attention turned back to him. “I have faith in you though.”
A small smile replaced your bright, genuine one and he wanted nothing more than to make it return even though he wasn’t sure how. The only thing that he knew was that you were his mate and he wanted to follow you around like a love-sick puppy. Throughout his eleven years of living in a cell, all that he dreamed about was having someone that loved him unconditionally and to love them in return. Even though he knew that mating bonds didn’t always work out, your smile that seemed to show a genuine kind heart had him hoping that it wouldn’t be the case. When a slight frown formed on his face was when your entire mood visibly shifted and it was all that he could feel in the air around the two of you.
“I never saw you when we went to visit your sisters,” he mused quietly, realizing also that you had never been mentioned.
“I was in my room. I didn’t- ” you sighed, your eyes glossing over in the process. “Nevermind. It’s not important.”
“I think it is.” He did his best to keep the curiosity and the hint of anger from his tone. “You shouldn’t have been excluded.”
“It was my choice.” You gave him a sad smile while his heart hurt at your tear lined eyes. “I wasn't.. It’s not really worth sharing.”
“I think-”
“What are you doing?”
Nesta’s voice from the doorway had the both of you turning to look at her, her face etched into pure anger. It had you stiffening up in front of him and it had him rising to his full height while his wings tried to flare in his protective state for you. Your older sister did nothing but continue to glare at the both of you before you sighed quietly while hanging your head and shaking it slightly.
“We were just tal-”
“You don’t need to talk to her,” Nesta snapped. “She has us. Stay away from her.”
You glanced back at him with apologetic eyes before walking away from him but he noticed that you went in a completely different direction than your sister did. He almost followed you but decided against it in hopes that it would help you cope a bit better.
**
“Good morning,” you mumbled sleepily, still in your pajamas, when you entered the dining room with the male from the day before and Mor sitting at the table.
“Good morning,” Mor replied with a small smile. “We weren’t expecting you to be up so early.”
“I do rise early sometimes,” you chuckled as you took a seat beside her with the male sitting across from you. “But everything.. It’s hard to sleep now.”
“That’s completely understandable.” Mor rubbed your arm for a moment in a comforting manner. “We’re glad that you are out here with us.”
You gave her a small but sad smile, unsure of what to say. It was obvious that none of them knew about you and even though it hurt, you did your best not to show it. Feyre had mentioned to you once that the food here was delicious and now that you had a taste, you weren’t sure if you could ever go back to normal human food. The thought had you returning to the day that you had been forced into the cauldron and realized that you didn’t know anyone’s name and most importantly, how they all were doing after injuries.
“You were hurt.” You locked eyes with the hazel ones across from you. “And your friend-”
“We’re alright,” he assured, causing you to slump in relief into your seat. “Cassian’s wings are healing as we speak.”
“I’m so glad.” You gave him a bright smile before gazing at his wings momentarily. “I can’t imagine how much pain that you were in. I feel horrible that I didn’t even think to ask you last night.”
“It’s okay.” He gave you another genuine, small smile that earned a near silent gasp from the female beside her. “You have been through more than any of us can imagine.”
“I don’t even know your names,” you mumbled, choosing to ignore his reassurance since you were trying to avoid the thoughts of your own.
“You’ve met Mor.” He gestured towards the female beside you who simply rolled her eyes. “Cassian, as I said, was the one that was injured as well and Rhysand is our High Lord of the Night Court.”
“Oh.” It was hard to keep your mind from the horrible memories, the thoughts making your heart hurt even more now that you knew their names. “Have you heard from Feyre?”
“She will be alright and will be back as soon as she can,” Mor answered confidently. 
Your sister had obviously thrived since she had become High Fae and you couldn’t help but wonder if you or your other sisters would be able to do it as well even though you didn’t have much of a choice. A part of you wanted to adjust but at the same time, you were terrified of the life that you had been forced into. You were at least trying to be friendly even though Elain still refused to speak and Nesta was being her usual angry self.
You weren’t sure how to feel with everything that was going on around you but your mind began to drift back to your human life. Your favorite holiday would be arriving in a few months and you hoped that it would be something that would be accepted for the first time. Remembering that you didn’t know the male’s name, you raised an eyebrow at him.
“Are you stingy with your name?” 
“No,” he chuckled, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m Azriel.”
“Azriel,” you repeated, finding that you liked how it rolled so simply off of your tongue.
He seemed to like it as well due to the smile tugging at his lips but you chose to ignore it, opting to eat what you could. You could feel his gaze on you and noticed it for yourself when you glanced from your peripheral as Mor began to tell you what Velaris had to offer.
“It sounds beautiful,” you sighed in awe.
“I could take you.” Your eyes met Azriel’s, noting that his expression was neutral even though you felt like he deeply wanted you to agree. “The city is meant to be seen at night.”
“I would expect nothing less from The City of Starlight,” you laughed, noting an emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t place.
With a nod in a silent goodbye, you went to find your sisters who were where you thought they would be. Elain was still staring out of the window with a blank stare and Nesta was in a chair in the room with her reading a book. Your oldest sister’s blank stare fell on you and since it made you feel unwelcome, you quickly left and opted to spend your day in your room. The feeling of loneliness was nothing new but it hurt even worse with the circumstances that were beginning to feel impossible to sort through. 
As the day came to a close, you searched through the new wardrobe in hopes of finding something suitable. It was as if Mor knew of your struggle because she was flitting into the room as the afternoon was coming to a close. Her help was more than welcomed since you didn’t know how to dress up for anything at all. She chose a gorgeous blue dress and fixed your hair into loose curls. It was the prettiest that you had ever felt. Azriel’s face softened when you entered the dining room where he was waiting and he guided you to the balcony.
“The House is warded against winnowing so we will have to fly,” he started gently, watching you with nearly invisible caution. “There is always the option of the ten thousand steps to the city but that would ruin your beautiful dress.”
“I’ve never flown before.” It was hard to speak and keep the shock from the simple word from your tone before eyeing his wings. “It sounds scary.”
“I promise not to drop you,” he chuckled, the noise almost inaudible.
You nodded your head and nearly gasped when he picked you up gently, the feeling contradicting his size and obvious muscles. The flight down wasn’t as scary as you expected and you knew that Azriel was doing his best to keep you comfortable. He landed you both down next to what he called the Sidra and you couldn’t help but admire the sight. Azriel followed suit when you leaned against the railing and it was then that you noticed the blue stone on the top of his hand. Your attention turned to the scars and your heart immediately ached for him.
“They are siphons,” he explained to your silent question but stiffened when you placed your hand over his and ran a thumb over his scars. 
“It’s beautiful,” you whispered, admiring how the kind male beside you had turned out that way despite the obvious trauma that he went through before giving him a soft smile. “Oh, your siphons are too.”
He smiled brightly, the sight taking your breath away in the process. You couldn’t help but return it before he placed a hand on your lower back and guided you further into the city. Amazement of the sights sent your heart fluttering and then it warmed when Azriel let you slip your hand into his. 
**
Azriel couldn’t keep his disbelief hidden from himself when it was obvious to see that you deeply enjoyed his company. It seemed that you always found a way to gravitate towards him and a piece of him wondered if it was the unknown mating bond or if you were truly that attention starved. He always silently observed every interaction possible between you and your sisters but each one was short lived. It hurt his own heart for you since he knew what it was like to be shunned by your own family. 
He had a day planned in the city with you when Rhys called him away to help Cassian retrieve Feyre. Even though you knew nothing, you were genuinely understanding and it only made him love you more for it. His heart only hurt worse when they returned with Feyre and you were barely acknowledged. He bristled when you glanced at his High Lord with a hint of fear radiating off of you. When tears lined your eyes, he couldn’t stop himself from pulling you into an empty hallway to pull you into his arms.
You melted in his embrace and silently cried for less than a handful of minutes before pulling away and wiping your eyes. If he hadn’t needed to watch Lucien, he would have taken you right then and there out to the city in hopes of lightening your mood and bringing the smile back to your face that he desperately wanted to see.
“My favorite human holiday is coming up next week,” you muttered before leaning against the wall behind you. “I wonder if they’ll celebrate it with me.”
“I would be more than happy to help with anything that you need,” he replied quietly before his heart clenched at the sight of your small smile. 
The day before the holiday, he had followed you into the city to get all of the decorations that you needed. Between the shopping that he usually didn’t enjoy doing and helping you set everything up the next morning, he was happier than he had been in a long time. Any amount of time that he got with you was highly cherished and it always seemed that you felt the same. His heart dropped at your frown when his brothers and Feyre returned. The slight scent of your fear again had him bristling but forced himself to keep his face unreadable as he watched.
“I thought that we could actually celebrate now,” you said hopefully to the High Lady. “Maybe make things feel a little more like home in a way.”
“We didn’t want to do your holiday back then and we really don’t now.”
Nesta’s words when she entered the dining room had him glaring at her when tears filled your eyes. He nearly growled in his protective nature at the sight of your oldest sister who wasn’t phased by the sight that always had his stomach turning. She left with a scoff and roll of her eyes before disappearing again. It wasn’t until Feyre gave you a half hearted apologetic smile and disappeared after Nesta did you finally run to your room.
A glare at his High Lord who knew about the bond only had him seeing red when Rhysand simply shrugged and followed after his own mate.
**
Your time with Azriel became less and less the closer that the war came. Despite taking Cassian up on his offer to train, you weren’t anywhere near close to trying to go up against the simplest of opponents. Azriel always appeared proud that you had agreed to learn to defend yourself if need be. There was always an emotion in his eyes that you could never place when your eyes met but what you did know was that you were falling in love with him. 
Even though you were worried about Elain when she was kidnapped, you couldn’t stop the hurt that hit you when you saw her in his arms. Your relief for your sister’s safety quickly changed into horror when you saw the injuries that he had received. You followed behind him quietly and stayed out of the way while he was tended to by Thesan. He would lock eyes with you every so often and give you a reassuring smile that had a tug in your heart pulling towards him.
Azriel stayed with you in your tent that night but even him holding you close against him did nothing to help you sleep. Your worry and fear ate at you about the war that would be taking place kept your heart and mind racing. Standing at the edge of the battlefield with Feyre’s new family and your sisters did nothing but refuel your terror. Hurt coursed through you to see the male that you had fallen in love with hand his dagger to Elain. You knew that you wouldn’t be anywhere near the fight as instructed.
“We will get through this,” Azriel whispered in a low voice that only you could hear when he returned to your side.
You gave a short hum in agreement but stepped away from him as heartbreak continued to swirl within you. With the shortest glance at the shadowsinger, you saw confusion and something akin to hurt on his face before he faced the battle beginning ahead of them. All that you could do was watch with tears streaming down your face and your own sobs escaping you when Feyre's pained screaming met you when it was all over.
You already knew what had happened and since you were all alone, you let yourself fall apart in the place that you had been left at and let yourself grieve for your sister. There was absolutely nothing that you could do to help anyone or anything but you had become used to it at this point in your life. Since there weren’t any other options for you, you disappeared into your tent, continuing to cry. You weren’t sure how much time had gone by before you heard the tent flaps move to find Feyre looking at you with tear-filled eyes.
“I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered as she began to cry and the pain in her eyes and on her face had your heart dropping. “Father- He-”
You already knew what she meant since you had seen his ships and you simply turned your back to her. A soft, pained sigh left your sister before she reluctantly left and your heart hurt even more at the fact that you didn’t know anything at all. You had truly been forgotten by everyone. All that you wanted was to be alone to try to sort through your emotions. It was already hard enough with the struggle that you were having with adjusting to your new life as High Fae but this added pain was too much.
Once you were finally able to return home, you secluded yourself into a room in the townhouse while everyone else gathered around. You wanted nothing to do with any of them but you were stuck in the court that you didn’t want to be in. Time passed in a blur and you even refused to be around Azriel despite his pained features when you told him to go away. The comfort that you had once felt around him had dissipated when you noticed his visible worry for Elain. You couldn’t blame him  because your sister had always been the most beautiful and you would choose her over you any day.
“You’re doing what now?” you asked one afternoon when Feyre cornered you when you were finished eating, silent as you always were.
“Starfall is tomorrow and we need to get you a dress,” Feyre answered, speaking as if it was obvious.
“What is ‘Starfall?’”
“A Fae tradi-”
“So you’ll celebrate the things that the Fae do but you never bothered when I planned anything?” you snapped hatefully.
Feyre simply frowned before sighing and leaving your room. You sat brooding on your balcony, enjoying the light breeze blowing past you, wondering how things had turned out how it had. Being in Fae territory became even more unbearable by the day and you were beginning to not care if humans didn’t like your kind, half heartedly planning a return to the human lands. Before you could get into your thoughts much further, someone landed on the balcony beside you. Not just anyone, but the one in the group that truly scared you.
“I hear you’re opposed to Fae holidays,” Rhys began nonchalantly. “Why-”
“I’m not participating in your stupid traditions,” you snapped, taking steps back when he took enough steps forward and had you cornered with nowhere to go.
“And why, Y/N, do you refuse?”
“Because I don’t want to!” you yelled despite the fear that you knew he could sense.
“This is what you’re going to do.” He placed a hand on the railing on each side of you, hovering too close for comfort with a stern but angry expression. “You will be there tomorrow whether you like it or not. I will not have you ruining this night for Feyre. You will not like the repercussions if you upset her on her favorite holiday.”
With that, he left you there while you shook from the fear that you had just been left in.
**
Azriel had never imagined how much it would hurt to be pushed away by his own mate. You wouldn’t talk to him or even make eye contact. It was very obvious to everyone that you were miserable and he noted that depression had fully taken over you even and you always failed to conceal it when you tried. Every attempt that he made was always quickly shut down or simply ignored.
The night of Starfall, he barely saw you. You stood by yourself, refusing to speak to anyone that tried to engage in conversation with you by a half hearted smile. When he noticed that you disappeared, he followed your scent down the hall towards your room where he knew that you would be. His knock went unanswered but he let himself in anyway since the door wasn’t locked. He noted that your room was half decorated with the human holiday that you loved while you stood against the balcony in a simple dress that replaced your previous one.
“Are you alright?” he asked hesitantly, bracing himself to be told to leave.
“No.” Your answer was short and clipped but you didn’t bother to look at him as you continued to watch the sight of Starfall. “No, I’m not.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Why am I being forced to participate in something that I don’t want to be a part of?” you asked and he heard the anger beginning to fill your tone. “They were never a part of the one simple holiday that I tried to get them to enjoy. All that I wanted was to spread some joy in the crappy situation that we were in and even now, they still refuse to acknowledge it.”
“You didn’t have to join if you didn’t want to,” he assured gently, placing a hand over yours.
“Yes, I did,” you scoffed, causing him to raise an eyebrow in silent question. “Your oh so wonderful High Lord insisted. As a matter of fact, he threatened repercussions if I messed up wonderful Feyre’s favorite Fae tradition. I was forced to become a High Fae and now I’m being forced into traditions that I now want no part of.”
“Rhys did what?” he asked, his voice low with anger that was directed towards his brother.
“It doesn’t even matter anymore.” You went silent for only a moment before anger began to roll off of you. “You know what? It does matter. I will not allow them to walk all over me anymore.”
Azriel followed you in a hurry, hoping to do damage control when it was needed. All eyes fell on you when you stormed directly into the party. As if sensing your anger, Feyre’s eyes immediately locked onto yours. When you got too close, Rhysand gave him a stern glare in silent warning so he caught you around the waist to keep you in one spot.
“You are a shitty sister!” you snapped loudly, turning all eyes on you.
“What-”
“Oh, no. You don’t get to talk or ask questions.” He kept you in place despite your struggling as Elain moved beside the High Lady. “Both you have done nothing but shove me to the very back of your minds! Left me on the back burner! You didn’t even bother telling me that our father was dead until everyone was settled comfortably back in the camp!”
“We’re really sorry, Y/N-”
“You’re just as bad!” His arm tightened around you, pulling your back to his front when you began shaking in anger. “All that all of you have done was forget about me! None of your little ‘family’ even knew I existed! And even though you always disregarded my holiday that was always meant to lighten our troubles, your precious High Lord threatened me to participate in your stupid Fae traditions!”
Azriel’s eyes went wide with all of the information that you had just unleashed for everyone to hear. Even though everyone was staring at the confrontation with gaping mouths, he kept his attention on Rhysand who was trying to keep his power in check from his anger due to his own mate’s tears.
“Get your mate out of my city, Azriel,” Rhys ordered, the secret now revealed causing you to stiffen.
“What the hell is he talking about?” you asked, jerking out of his grip and shoving him harshly in the chest.
“I wanted to tell you but with everythi-”
“Oh no,” you chuckled darkly, tears now flowing freely down your face. “Yet another Fae tradition that I just have to deal with.”
“You don’t have to,” Azriel tried, desperation filling him just as much as his anger at his High Lord. “You-”
“Get away from me,” you snapped, backing away from him towards the door to the steps. “I’ll take care of myself just like I always have.”
With that, you darted for the door while he was left standing there in shock before the heartache took over him.
@amara-moonlight @allygrace74 @sidthedollface2 @historygeekqueen 
@hnyclover @kalulakunundrum @historygeekqueen @bubybubsters @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademejoin
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anotherblinder · 7 months
Text
The Ring
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Summary || (Y/n) Shelby loses her ring and Thomas helps find it
Word Count || 1.2k
Pairing || Thomas Shelby x Reader
Warnings || There are no warnings
Notes || Hello! It's been a moment since i last posted but here i am with another fic! This one just came to mind while i was writing other fics and i just had to write it out! Super thanks again to @runnning-outof-time for proof reading! Go read her works she is absolutely amazing!
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Overwhelming frustration surged through (Y/N) as she looked frantically around the house. Even the help was trying their best to look for it. (Y/n)’s wedding ring had gone missing. She swore up and down she never took it off her finger. It was a very uncommon occurrence for her to remove it. Which is why there was such a panic settled in her.   
The whole house had been searched and it still hadn’t turned up. Feeling defeated, tears started to prick her eyes as she tried to remember where she could have lost it. Not even noticing when her husband Thomas had got home. Too preoccupied with trying to find her precious ring. The Shelby was beating herself up for losing it. Deep down she knew Tommy wouldn’t be upset and just buy her a new one. The thought of having a new one broke her heart. This one means so much to her, it was the one he gave her when they had nothing. How hard Tommy worked to get her that one when they had almost not a dime to their name. It meant so much to her, showed how much he loved her and worked to get her a decent ring at that time in their life. That’s why she was desperate to find it. 
Seconds after he walked through the door, he could see the unusual panic in the house. Well, of his wife at least. Frances had told him the details of what’s been happening over the last few hours. Tommy let out a sigh before thanking the woman and going to his wife. He could see the frustration and panic written all over her. Carefully he walked over to her and placed his hand on her back.  
“Darling, it’s just a ring, I can buy you a new one.” He reassured her   
This seemed to be the wrong course of action. The tears she had been holding back started to fall down her cheeks. Pain was evident in her eyes as she looked at him. It made his heart clench at the sight, realizing what he said did not bring her any comfort at all.  
“I don’t want another ring! I want that one!” She cried   
At that she had moved away from Tommy and stood looking around the room. The man didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to her. It was just a ring, at least to him it was. They didn’t need a silly little piece of metal to show the love they have for each other. Though he didn’t understand, Tommy wanted too. It was clear it meant a great deal to her. Even if it wasn’t to him.  
“What makes you upset about losing the ring? It’s just a ring.”  
Tommy watched as she paused and turned to face him again. Taking the opportunity, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. He’d do anything to make his wife happy again, even if that means tearing up the house finding the ring she seems to love so much. Her lips trembled as she took a moment to gather her thoughts.  
“It’s not just a ring, Tommy. You got that for me when we didn’t have this life. When you couldn’t even afford a ring like that. I know how hard you worked for it. Just to get something nice even when I said not to worry. It showed me how much you truly love me and how far you went to get it. That’s why I want that one, it’s full of so much love. I don’t want just some pretty ring you can buy now. I want the one you worked tirelessly to get.”   
Tommy didn’t know what answer he was expecting but it wasn’t that. It made his love for her deepen as he heard her words. They pierced his heart. Sure, he worked hard for the ring but always felt his wife deserved a better ring. Hell, he even swore that when he made it, he’d get her a better ring. When he heard she lost it he thought it would be a good opportunity, but now? Now he just can’t bring himself to do that. Not when he knew she would hate whatever ring he bought her to replace the one she loves so dearly. Unknown to Tommy a smile had grown on his lips as (Y/n) explained why she didn’t want a new one. Leaning in he gave her a gentle kiss and pulled away to look at her.  
“We’ll find your ring.” He said  
“Thank you, Tommy.”   
‘Where did you have it last?” Tommy asked  
She paused and thought for a moment. 
“I remember seeing it in the garden last.”   
“Let’s go look there.”  
Tommy took her hand and walked out to the garden. He knew deep down if they did not find it, he would buy one to replace it. She would not like it, but he could not let her walk around without a wedding ring either. Tommy is still a man who wants to keep his wife to himself. He held onto the hope that they would find it out here, somehow. The couple split up to cover more area of the garden. After searching one area Tommy came to her favourite part of the garden. It was covered with her favourite flowers with a beautiful bench he had made with a table to accompany it.   
The spring winds blew around him while looking for the ring. First, he checked the table then the ground next to it. Both coming up empty. A glimmer in the bed of flowers caught his eye. Knowing what it was, he got down on one knee and picked the ring out of the flower bed. It amazed him how she could have come to love this old thing. But maybe he was starting to understand. Footsteps echoed to his left and he turned in that direction. (Y/n) stood a few feet from him and Tommy swore she never looked more beautiful. The sun is shining off her beautiful hair. Her eyes shining like priceless jewels, always full of love when she looked at him. Like he was the only thing in the world to her. Gently he picked a flower from the stem while standing to his feet.   
Noticing him coming toward her, (Y/n) rushed over and he could see the hope on her face. Smiling Tommy held up the ring, watching the giant grin that formed on her face.   
“You found it! Oh, thank you Tommy!”   
Wordlessly he took her left hand and slid the ring back onto her finger. Right at home where it belonged. He placed a kiss over the ring, making blush rise to his brides' cheeks at the sudden show of affection. The smile on his face showed just how much he loves the woman right in front of him. Feeling the romantic mood in the air, both leaned in for a kiss. A soft, slow kiss showing the love they still held for each other after all these years. Pulling away, he placed the flower he picked earlier behind her ear and held out his arm.  
“Let’s go inside and tell them you found it eh?”   
“Let’s, then I can help with cleaning up the mess I made in the house.”   
Thomas Shelby didn’t understand the love she held for that ring. Then, he understood, seeing the twinkle in her eyes and it shining off her finger after he found it. Thomas too, came to love that dingy old ring he bought years ago. Because it held all the love they held for each other. It’s truly as priceless as the woman he holds in his heart. 
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fallingdownhell · 1 year
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Of broken promises..
Genshin Men, completely forgetting about your birthday
Characters included: Xiao, Cyno and Childe
Summary: Your special day was just around the corner. You were very ecxited about it, since your boyfriend told you he had something very special planned for you. But things turned out different than you had expected..
Content (Warnings): Angst; Hurt/no comfort; established relationship; characters may be slightly ooc; misunderstandings; gender neutral reader; not proof read yet
Read Part 2 here
Word Count: 4.2k
I was in the mood for some angst, so now here I am, writing this and taking you all with me. I don’t know why I’m so drawn to drama and hurt, but I find it easier to write than fluff and other stuff. As always, feel free to point out any mistakes I may have made, I very much appreciate it!
Well then, I hope you enjoy reading this little piece I brought you all!
Xiao
Your relationship with Xiao was still very much in the beginning stages. It was all tender touches and soft words, as to not scare your boyfriend away from all these new emotions and situations that he was experiencing. You didn’t mind it though. You went into this relationship, knowing that you would have to take things very slow with him. Probably slower than you ever had, but in your eyes, it was a good thing.
It gave you both the opportunity to really get to know each other, not just on a superficial level. Your first kiss happened three months into the relationship and it was also at this point, that Xiao acknowleged his feelings for you though it was still difficult for him to initiate any sort of affection. He didn’t flinch away from you anymore though when you tried to cuddle or hug him, so in your book, that was a huge success already. 
Cue now, a few more months into the relationship, almost going for a year now, and your birthday was just around the corner. Xiao knew about it, how the mortals celebrated the day of ones birth every year, though he never thought anything of it. But since it was important to you, he not only made the effort to remember the date, but also plan something for you, so you could really enjoy that day. 
He did need to get some help though, since he had absolutely no idea what would be an appropriate thing to do and what wouldn’t be. Don’t mention it to him afterwards though, or he might get moody with you again. 
You were currently getting ready for your big day. Xiao refused to tell you, what you were going to do. He didn’t even give you a hint. The only thing he told you to do, was to dress up a little bit, which you gladly took the opportunity to do, since you don’t usually get the chance to do that very often. 
After one last look in the mirror once you were done, you went to sit down at your table, feeling giddy and excited. Hundreds of thoughts running through your mind at once, trying to figure out what his plans for today were. As you waited for Xiao to pick you up, like he told you he would do, you noticed that quite some time already went by. He should have been here half an hour ago...
Normally, you wouldn’t think much of it, everyone could be late sometimes. But this was Xiao. He was never late for anything, so of course you began to worry as you noticed this. 
“Xiao?”, you called his name and waited for a few seconds, hoping that he just had the wrong time remembered. But nothing happened. Your boyfriend didn’t magically appear right in front of you like he usually did when you spoke his name. 
Your gut feeling told you that something wasn’t right. But you swallowed that feeling right down, trying to calm yourself down by reasoning. 
‘Maybe he is just getting ready himself, no need to worry.’
‘Surely he is just finishing up some last preparations.’
You tried to find every possible reason for why he could be late and not appear at your call, but as you tried again and again to call his name, he still didn’t show up. Your heart began to feel heavy as worry settled deep within you. Something really must have gone wrong. 
You pondered for a long time, trying to figure out what you could do now. But after some time with no real success, you just couldn’t take it anymore. Without wasting another second, you grabbed a few important things and then went straight to Wangshuu Inn, hoping to find him there. Praying, that everything was okay.
 It took you some time to get there, but once you arrived, you wasted no time, going straight to the balcony your adeptus boyfriend usually kept for himself. 
“Xiao!”, you called again once you arrived, but still, nothing happened. You looked around, trying to see if you could spot him anywhere near, again, without success. Desperation settled into you, as you went downstairs, to where the Innkeeper was located. 
“Excuse me, Verr... have you seen Xiao today?”
“Xiao?”, she repeated, then thinking to herself for a few seconds. “No, I’m sorry. Last time I saw him was yesterday morning. He said he had something to take care of.”
“Oh, I see.... thank you.”, you murmured, not sure how you were supposed to feel or react to these news.
You wrecked your brain, trying to think if he had mentioned something the days prior. But if he did, you didn't remember it. Verr looked at you with something close to pity in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again just as quickly, obviously changing her mind about it. Sad and defeated, you made your way back to your house at Liyue Harbour, not sure what you were supposed to do now.
Should you search for your boyfriend? After all, he could be hurt out there somewhere. Then again, you had not even the faintest of idea where to begin with your search. Then, should you just wait here for him to return? But it was still Xiao you were talking about here. He could be gone for anytime between an hour and an entire week. Or, and you absolutely didn’t like that thought at all... he could never return. 
What if something bad happened to him while on this mission he never told you about? Was that the reason why he never said anything to you? Because he knew that he wouldn’t make it back? But that would be ridiculous. He wouldn’t have made so many plans with you and talked so much about your shared future with you if he knew he wouldn’t live to see it. 
All of these thoughts that came crashing in your mind, you just couldn’t hold back the tears anymore. You forgot all about your stupid birthday, you just wished to have your partner right here next to you again, safe and sound. 
That night, you cried yourself to sleep, praying to all the Archons out there, that he would come back to you in one piece. That Xiao would be fine. It was all you would ever wish for. 
...
The next day you woke up to a cold bed. A clear indicator that he hadn’t returned in the middle of the night and spent it next to you. And also a harsh slap in the face with the cold reality. You struggled to get yourself out of bed or to get yourself ready, but you managed. Once you were done, you thought about your options, what you could do. 
You decided that your best course of action for now would be to go to Wangshuu Inn again today. Just to be on the safe side and see for yourself if he returned. So, you did just that, setting out again while sending a small little prayer to the Archons again. 
The walk to the Inn seemed longer this time around then it did yesterday. Maybe because you weren’t in such a rush to get there as you were yesterday. You were still defeated once you arrived, slowly walking up the stairs and pass Verr again, who only looked at you with a knowing gaze and tried to give you a reassuring smile. You found it hard to respond, so you just avoided her gaze and made your way up to the balcony again. 
To your surprise, you saw Xiao standing by the handrail, his gaze fixed at something in the distance, but you were sure that he noticed the presence of someone coming up the stairs. Still, you were in shock how casual he was just standing there.
“Xiao?”, you spoke, and the shock was clearly heard in your voice. Your boyfriend turned around and looked at you, while you were also frozen in place a few steps away from him. 
“What?”, was the cold reply you got, which only threw you off even more. Why was he being this way to you? Shaking that thought out of your head again, you quickly walked up to him.
“What do you mean ‘what’? I was worried about you! Where were you?”
“Why were you worried? You know of my duty to protect Liyue. I have been away for longer than one single day. And as far as I know, we weren’t supposed to meet up.”
You were taken aback, staring at him as if you were asking him with your eyes to please tell you that he was only joking. But that was the problem.. Xiao never joked, about anything.
“But.. we were. Yesterday was-”
“Y/N, please, leave it for now. I am not in the mood today.”
“But Xiao, yesterday-”
“I said, leave it. I had something important to do yesterday. Something more important than whatever silly little thing you have come up with to bother me! I’m not in the mood for your antics today, so just don’t bother. Leave me alone.”
You took a step back as you heard his harsh words. For a second, you thought you saw something like guilt shine in his eyes, but it was quickly washed away by the cold expression he now wore. 
You were hurt. He had never said anything like that to you, you weren’t sure how to react. So you did the only thing you could think of.
Without another word or glance at him, you turned around and granted him his wish. His wish for you to leave him alone. 
________________
Cyno 
Cyno had many responsibilites as the General Mahamatra. It wasn’t uncommon for him to be gone for a whole week - sometimes even longer - for a mission. He could never tell you much about his work or current mission, until it was over, as to not endanger you or himself. But once the deed was done, he told you all about it, about everything that he experienced. 
When he was gone for so long, the first thing he would always do was to find you, trap you in his arms and cuddle with you for hours on end. Not many people would think this of him, but Cyno was a very affectionate lover. He thrieved on physical contact, no matter if it was just holding your hand of if he could hold you in his arms. 
To him, you were the most important thing in his life, second to nothing else. Sometimes, he resented his position as General Mahamatra, especially if it was preventing him from spending time with you for an extended period of time. But it was also his calling, he felt.This position was so important to him, and you knew that as well. You learned to deal with it, and Cyno was so grateful for it.
He didn’t know many people who could put up with a busy partner as himself for such a long time, but you two managed. That’s why, as a way to show his gratitude towards you, he put so much effort into your relationship. He was never late for anything, be it a date or just something trivial. He made an effort to remember every important date, be it for anniversaries or a birthday date. In all of your years with Cyno, although you did have your ups and downs, it was overall the best relationship you ever had. 
And that is exaclty why the current situation hurt you so much. 
...
You were having dinner with your boyfriend, already feeling a little giddy as your birthday was just a week away and you were excited to see what Cyno had in store for you this year. 
Except, it came entirely different.
“I have to leave for a mission tomorrow. It’s a very important one, so expect me to be gone for about two weeks.”
You froze when you heard those words. Surely, you must have misunderstood. 
“What?”, you said, not really being able to process this new information. And it didn’t help that Cyno simply repeated what he had said. 
Was he making a joke again? That had to be it. Surely, he would never forget about it. 
“You’re.. leaving? But, what about-”
“Y/N, please. It’s a very important mission. I can’t just let anyone handle this. It has to be me. You have to understand.”
So, he really wasn’t joking. You just looked at him, while he continued eating like nothing has happened, completely unbothered. Suddenly, you were not feeling hungry at all, so you just got up and left the table.
“Darling?”, Cyno called after you as you went in the living room, not sure what else to do with yourself at the moment. Cyno continued to look after you, trying to figure out what could be wrong with you. He wrecked his brain but when he couldn’t come up with a solution, he just shrugged it off and continued with his meal. He would deal with it once he was done eating. 
Meanwhile, you were sitting on the couch, deep in your thoughts. You were trying to come up with a solution, a scenario in which Cyno could still spend your birthday with you. You didn’t want to spend it without him, you have never done that since you got in this relationship with him and you definitely didn’t want to start with it now. 
You had no idea how much time had went by when you suddenly felt the arms of your lover wrap around you as he sat down next to you. 
“What’s wrong, my dear?”, he asked, his crimson eyes fixed on you. 
“Just... thinking.”, you said, as you were not able to come up with an idea until now. 
“Thinking about what? Tell me, maybe I can help.” That did sound like a good idea, so you obliged. 
“It’s about that mission of yours. I was just thinking-”
“Y/N”, Cyno let out with a long, frustrated sounding sigh. “There’s nothing I can do about it. Can’t we just forget about it for now and just cuddle a bit. You know I’m gonna miss you.”
“So you can just go and disappear in the morning before I’m even awake? No Cyno, I wanna talk about it now. Because you’re forgetting something important.”
“I am not forgetting anything. Right now, the only important thing is this mission. I can’t tell you about it, but just know I have to be the one to take it.”
You were getting frustrated as well. He was just not giving you a chance to explain yourself. 
“That’s not what I mean, Cyno. I know YOU want to take that mission, and that’s fine. But there is something else you should remember. What I’m trying to tell you is-”
“Listen, I don’t wanna argue right now. If you can’t handle this, maybe it was a mistake to get in this relationship with you.”
You froze when he said that, staring at him, unmoving. Was that really how he felt? Like all this was a mistake? That YOU were a mistake? 
Cyno waited for a response from you for a few seconds, but when nothing came, he sighed and stood up, collecting a few neccessities he would need on this trip. 
When he passed the living room again, he saw you still standing there. “I changed my mind. I’m leaving today. Maybe the time apart will help the both of us to figure something out and reflect on us.” 
With that said, he went for the door and you heard it fall into place again once he had already left.
So that was it? He just left, basically telling you that your relationship might be ending when he returned? And that was when the dam in you broke and tears started to stream down your face. You broke down were you were standing, clutching your chest in hope to ease the burning pain you were feeling inside but of course, it didn’t help. 
What a way to spend your upcoming birthday.. anticipating the end of your relationship with the man of your dreams..
__________________________
Childe (Ajax)
Being in a relationship with a harbinger was simultaneously  the best and worst decision in your life. 
Childe was a very sweet and caring lover, although sometimes slightly overprotective. You’ve spoken to him about it many times, but after only a week or so, he completely forgot about it again and went back to his old ways of guarding you like a hawk. 
People in Shneznahya knew about you and your relationship to one of their harbingers, so you were almost as feared as Childe himself, as people were afraid you would talk ill of them to him, which would then result in harm for them. 
They didn’t know they had nothing to fear. You were one of the kindest and caring humans that Childe has ever met. It was one of the many reasons why he fell in love with you in the first place. 
After he joined the harbingers, he became a frequent visitor in the infirmary, even more so than before. Somehow it was always you who had to take care of him when he was injured again. Most of the time, while you were treating him, Childe was talking about random stuff, throwing in a flirtly remark here and there, but you never paid much mind to it.
Until one day when he showed up there, no injury in sight, so you asked him what he wanted here. And he just asked you on a date. 
That was over two years ago and you have been in a relationship with him ever since. Childe was loyal to you, and you trusted him in that, even if he had to travel to many different regions all across Teyvat. He couldn’t always take you with him and the time you two had to spend apart from each other proved to be difficult for both of you. 
You also learned very soon that Childe was totally a family person. He took you to meet his parents fairly early on, but you really hit it off with them, getting along quite well with them, and his siblings followed soon. You fell in love with them, and Childe just love seeing you interact with his family. It made him want to get a family of his own with you as soon as possible. 
But, no matter how good the relationship was going, there were also always going to be problems along the way. His work was a huge factor, yes, but another huge part of the problem was Childe’s confrontational behaviour. He liked to cause fights, not only physical ones with his enemies, but also with you. 
His personality and pride demanded of him to win in every argument you two had, even when he would be in the wrong. Apologizing had never been a strong suit for the ginger, and you knew that. But sometimes, that was all you wanted. For him to seriously apologize and make you his number one priority form time to time. 
Because you never were. You knew that Childe loved you with all his heart, he told you that almost every single day. And still, you were only ever his second choice. Because his work would always stay his number one priority. 
No matter what it was or how bad the timing would be, if he had another mission, he would already be out the door, barely giving you a kiss to the cheek before he was gone. Sometimes, it was hard. Having to stay behind, not knowing if he would return to you in one piece again. 
He promised you to be careful and that he would always return to you, but there was still a chance. A chance that something wouldn’t go as planned and fate would take him from you. In that times of not knowing, you didn’t care how difficult your relationship was if it meant that he was alive and well in your arms. 
...
It had been a very stressful week, work has been demanding much from you, both mentally and physically. You were glad when you got home that evening, looking forward to the few days you were able to spend with your boyfriend again. 
As if he sensed that you would be done this evening, you found him in the kitchen, preparing a meal for you both.
“Ajax? You, cooking? What’s the occaision?”, you asked, clearly surprised since he rarely cooked, ever. 
At that, he just laughed. “What, can’t I spoil my beautiful lover from time to time?”, he asked, giving you a smirk. “Sit down, I’m almost done.”
You did as you’re told, not questioning him any further. You just assumed that it would be a taste for your birthday tomorrow. You haven’t planned much that day, since you never really celebrated your birthday. You would just have lunch with his family at their place and then spend the rest of the day together, doing whatever came to your mind. Maybe his spoiling you today was in preparation for your day tomorrow. 
The meal was actually very good, which surprised you, since you only got to taste Childe’s cooking once before today, and that wasn’t exactly his best creation. Your boyfriend seemed to be proud of it himself. 
Afterwards, you did the dishes together, before you both went to get ready for bed. Like every night, once you got into bed, he pulled you close to his chest and whispered a sweet “I love you” in your ear, before you both drifted of to sleep. 
...
The next morning, you woke up alone in bed. Patting your hand on his side of the bed, you found that it was still somewhat warm, meaning that he got up not too long ago himself. 
You managed to get yourself out of bed, before searching for your boyfriend. You find him sitting in the kitchen, drinking a cup of coffee. 
He noticed you coming up behind him, so he turned to you and smiled up at you. “Good morning, sunshine. Did you sleep well?” 
You nodded as you went and made yourself your own cup to get your day started properly. You both set in a comfortable silence as you each drank your own drink. Only when you awoke more and more did you notice something strange... normally, Childe would have already showered you in congratulations and presented you with at least a gift or two, but nothing. 
Yet, you chose to not say anything just yet. Maybe he had something planned and would do that later in the day. 
Once done with your coffee, you got up and went to the bathroom to get yourself ready for lunch with his family. You usually got in the bath first, since you took longer than him, Childe would almost always be done within ten minutes or so. 
When it was his turn to get ready, you were waiting for him in the living room, when a knock on the door startled you. You were not expecting any visitors today, but you still went and answered the door. 
“Greetings. Would the Lord Harbinger happen to be available?”, was the first thing to greet you once you opened the door. Perplexed, you just nodded and went to turn around, but Childe was already coming down the stairs towards you.
“Babe, everything alright?”
“Yeah.. there is someone for you at the door..”, you said. Not wanting to pry, you went to the kitchen, but you weren’t really able to sit down as just a few seconds later, the door closed again and Childe came in the room. 
“I’m sorry babe. An urgent mission. I have to go right now.”
“What? But what about lunch? Your family is waiting for us. And-”
“It’s just a meal with my family. It’s not that big of a deal if we miss it this one time. I’m sure they would understand.”
You were shocked as you heard this. Did he really forget? That today was your birthday? Sure, you never really liked to make a huge deal about it, but at the very least you wanted people to remember it. Was that too much to ask for?
Too caught up in your feelings, you didn’t care how you sounded when you said that to him. “Fine. Go do whatever it is you have to do then, since it’s so much more important. But I’ll go and meet your family since they’re waiting for us.”
With that, you stormed past him, grabbed your coat and went out the door. Childe just stood there, utterly confused on why you were so upset about this. It was just a simple lunch, nothing too exciting about it. 
So, he just shrugged it off and went to collect his coat. Then, he made his way to the palace of the Tsaritsa, where he would get the details to his next mission, while his mind was still racing, trying to figure out what went through your head... but he just couldn’t come up with anything. 
Couldn’t be something too important if he forgot about it...
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
Text
Not As It Seems
Pairing: Rhysand x reader 
Plot: to outsiders they see your life is perfect. Being mated to one of the most powerful high lords and named high lady of the night court everyone thought you were happy (including your mate). What happens when the mask you’ve been wearing finally falls and Rhysand discovers what’s been troubling his darling mate.
a/n This is based on this request. Let me know if you want a part two where Rhysand confronts the person responsible for his mate's suffering.
ACOTAR Masterlist
Prompt List
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If someone had told you when you were younger that you would be mated with the high lord of the night court and given the title of high lady you would’ve laughed in their faces. Yet here you were, living every female’s (and some males) dream of being mated to Rhysand.
You met Rhysand one cold autumn morning. You had arrived at your job two hours ago at your bakery when Rhysand strolled in and requested one of every pastry you had for sale. You gave him a puzzled look and asked if he was sure: “Of course I’m sure. I could smell your delicious pastries a few blocks away,” Rhysand responded with a warm smile on his face.
A shy smile crept up on your face at Rhysand’s compliment. While you were used to everyone always complimenting you on your pastries, having your high lord compliment you made you go shy. “I’m flattered,” you sheepishly said while carefully placing the treats in the box.
A surprising look appeared on Rhysand’s face when took the box from your hands and took in your appearance. Mate Rhysand mentally told himself when he realized you were the female he had been dreaming about for as long as he could remember.
Not wanting to scare you off, Rhysand settled with simply asking you out to dinner before slowly revealing that you were mates.
He was grateful he did that. You built your relationship organically, and when he finally confessed that you were mates, instead of resenting him for hiding such a secret, you kissed him and told him how happy you were that you were mates. 
There was only one problem in your relationship, you rarely talked about your family and what you were like growing up. Every time he tried to pry into your past or family, you would always charge the subject or ask him to drop it. He was tempted sometimes to slither into your mind and see what was so bad about your childhood that you refused to talk to him about. 
He didn’t though.
He knew you would resent him if he invaded your privacy in that way just to get an answer. Instead, he’d change the subject to something more pleasant.
It’s not that you didn’t want to tell Rhysand about your childhood. To people who didn’t know you personally, they thought you had a great childhood. But the people who truly knew you knew that was the farthest thing from the truth.
While you were still in contact with your mother, your relationship with her was complicated, to say the least. Growing up, your mother would display all the signs of a narcissistic parent. Always finding a way to make your accomplishments hers and insult you when you did something minutely wrong.
It got worse when you were an adult and opened the bakery you still operated. She didn’t ask; she demanded that you give her half of your earnings from the bakery to make up for raising you. You foolishly agreed to her demand even though you were barely making enough to support yourself when you met Rhysand.
Once you had your mating ceremony, Rhysand would beg you to stop working because he had more than enough and then some to support you, but you rejected him each time. You didn’t want to put the burden of supporting your mother on Rhysand, so you told him you just loved your work too much to close it.
Because you were under so much stress with not only running your bakery by yourself but also doing the duties a high lady is supposed to do, you found yourself stretching yourself thin. You couldn’t find a moment in your day to just sit and relax, and when you did, it was only for a few minutes.
Unfortunately, that manifested into you not wanting to do anything during the days you actually managed to get off and started developing depression episodes.
You didn’t want anyone to know you were silently suffering, especially Rhysand’s. He had so much on his plate, and you didn’t want to add to his worries. So you’d force a smile so no one would know; know that you were silently fighting with your mother because she was growing more entitled to your money. Your mental shield was always up and so guarded; not even Rhysand could penetrate it.
You finally hit your breaking point one afternoon when your mother stopped by your bakery and demanded that you tell Rhysand he needed to start paying her money as well. In her words: “His money is your money, and your money is my money.”
Not being able to contain your anger towards your mother, you unleash all the frustration you have had towards her for the past three centuries. By the end of it, your mother dared to slap you across the face and growled: “You ungrateful child! You would have nothing if it wasn’t for me! I should have been Rhysand’s mate so I could have that fortune you have, not you. But seeing as you are his mate, I’m expecting you to give me his money by the end of the week,” before storming out of the bakery and disappearing into the streets of Velaris.
You didn’t know how you managed to get home, but when you did, you had the inner circle panicked with the state you were in. “Y/n. Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Mor asked, worry laced in her tone: “Azriel, Cassian, go get Rhysand he’s-”.
Azriel and Cassian were out the door before Mor had a chance to finish her sentence.
Mor and Amren meanwhile tried to get you to sit down with them, but you just brushed them off and disappeared into your bedroom. You knew they meant well, but you wanted to lock yourself in your room.
Not even five minutes later, Rhysand burst through your shared bedroom. Rhysand knelt down and cupped your face: “My darling y/n, please tell me what’s wrong? Tell me so I can help you,” there was a sense of panic in his voice.
“I’m tired Rhysand” you replied blandly. Rhysand remained silent as the other stormed into the room and watched the scene in front of them: “I’m so fucking tired of pretending I’m ok.”
@paankhaleyaar @amara-moonlight @favsrachz
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axiina · 5 months
Note
PLSSS soft corio comforting reader after they get he saves her(or them idm) from the arena after she tried to say a proper goodbye to her tribute (kinda like sejanus) but maybe she gets hurt and super traumatized but hes there for her idk
If I Killed Someone for You
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Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x capitol!reader (gender neutral)
Summary: It wasn't supposed to end this way. You just wanted to say goodbye to your tribute, Lamina. Luckily, your boyfriend was there and made sure you didn't get hurt. Just why do you look at him differently now?
Words: 1.5k
Themes: hurt with comfort, a bit of fluff but also angst
Warnings: slight spoilers to movie and book, small changes to canon, Pup isn't Lamina's mentor, character's death, murder, a bit of trauma, blood, comforting, a bit of argument, death, overthinking, reader feels guilty about situation, referring reader as 'you'
Author's note: Lamina deserved better so you are her mentor, fuck this idiot Pup.
It was supposed to be fluff, but it came out a bit sad and traumatic. We got a soft Coriolanus, leaving aside the fact that he killed someone in the process. Enjoy!!
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It was a pure act of desperation.
You just wanted to tell Lamina what you hadn't managed to do before. You had grown close to the young girl, who was horrified by what was happening. The very fact that she was in the arena, alone, without any support was driving you crazy.
She didn't deserve what happened to her. You hoped that maybe Lamina would be able to win and would be able to return home to the family she missed so much.
With each hour of the Hunger Games, her chances seemed to get smaller and smaller. For those few days, you sat like you were on pins and needles staring at the big screen at the Academy. After a while, the helplessness returned and you had to try not to cry in front of the cameras.
Lamina did not deserve it. None of the tributes deserved it. You did everything you could to make Lamina feel as comfortable as possible during the meetings and her stay at the Capitol. In the arena, you tried your best to make sure she wasn't hungry or thirsty. You didn't want her to get hurt. That, however, was not enough. Seeing a boy from her district, Treetch, joining another group made you feel anxious.
"What if they kill her? What if he betrays her…" This thought ran through your head repeatedly like a mantra.
She became weaker and weaker every day.
Your last meeting was too short. You didn't have time to say goodbye to her properly. You wanted her to know that even though you were physically somewhere else, your heart and thoughts were with her, at the arena. You had to say goodbye to her. You wouldn't forgive yourself if Lamina died without hearing a proper goodbye.
That's why you decided to see her one last time. Under cover of darkness, you crept into the arena in disguise and quietly snuck under the beam where Lamina was. Perhaps foolish and reckless, but you didn't think about the consequences. Ever since the girl got to the arena you couldn't find a place. You slept only short naps and didn't even want to meet Coriolanus, who was getting more and more worried about you.
While you were at the arena, every now and then you looked nervously around to the sides to see if anyone was coming. Lamina was surprised when you showed up. It was all surreal and you felt as if you were detached from reality. As soon as you saw Lamina you started crying. You both cried. Now the knowledge of how dangerous the arena was came to you like a powerful punch. She can't die. You don't remember what exactly you told her. You don't know if you said anything that made sense to her at all. The adrenaline made your mind kind of foggy. However, you know that it lifted her spirits. She knew you were with her and supporting her. You don't know exactly how much you were in the arena.
Everything happened so fast when Coriolanus grabbed your arm. Your brain didn't even register the fact that the boy appeared there practically out of nowhere. He looked terrified. He spoke quickly and incoherently. You only understood as he begged you to run away from there, because at any moment someone might come out of the tunnels and kill you. You were frozen with panic when it came to you. They hate the Capitol. They hate you too, and they certainly wouldn't think twice before killing you. Your fear was increased when Lamina's eyes widened in horror and only one word came out of her mouth.
Run.
Tributes began to leave the tunnels. As soon as they noticed that there were two mentors in the arena they started running towards you. Because of the adrenaline in your veins, you don't remember much of what happened next. You and Coriolanus ran as fast as you could when Coral, Mizzen, Tanner and Bobbin chased you while holding objects in their hands that could be the cause of your upcoming death.
The next scene that stuck in your mind was when your boyfriend hit one of the tributes on the head with a wooden plank. The boy fell down, and Coriolanus, without thinking much, hit him a second time. Then another and another. You looked at the body of Bobbin lying lifeless and Snow standing over him, unable to get a single word out. Your heart was raging and your head was spinning, feeling fear. You were terrified.
You couldn't tell what was the reason. The fact that you had just nearly died in the arena, or…. no, it couldn't have been that. He was merely trying to defend you. Yes, that was definitely the reason. Coriolanus is not a murderer, he was just…. he was terrified and acted emotionally. Bobbin would have killed him if Coryo hadn't done it first. Then you would have been next in line. Yes, that's what would have happened.
Both of you were injured, but at that moment it didn't even cross your mind to ask him how he was feeling. The Peace Keepers almost carried you out of there. Your parents were as terrified as you were. By the time you were sitting in your room wrapped in a blanket as your mother hugged you crying something finally hit you. You could have died. Your family would have been devastated. Your friends and…Coriolanus. Well, exactly, Coriolanus. He almost died because of your fault. Your stupidity and recklessness. Now he is injured and probably suffering, and you are not there with him. After what happened you didn't even say a stupid thank you to him.
"What were you even thinking! You could have died there! Did you even think about your loved ones? About me? What would have happened to me if you had died there? If I didn't get there in time!" Coriolanus repeated walking in circles around the empty classroom, the next morning. You had your head bent down, and tears were running down your cheeks. How could you do something like that?
Coriolanus sighed and sat down next to you, wrapping his arms around your body, pulling you closer.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't yell like that. You're probably still terrified. I was just…scared. I was scared that I would lose you."
It seemed to you that his voice cracked as the boy pressed his cheek against your head.
"Don't do that again. Don't scare me like that. If you had died I wouldn't have forgiven myself. I wouldn't be able to live normally." He whispered in your ear with a trembling voice.
"I'm here, love. I will always be until you have had enough of me. Although, most likely, even then I won't give you a break." A quiet, slightly trembling chuckle left his lips, at which you also smiled involuntarily.
"Enough of you? Never." you replied in an amused voice gently pulling away, but still remaining in his embrace. "I'm sorry, Coryo…I'm so terribly sorry for you. I just wanted to say goodbye to Lamina. I don't want anything bad to happen to her. I don't want her-"
"Shhh, it's okay." Coriolanus rested his forehead against yours and took your face in his hands gently stroking your cheeks. "It is past. The most important thing is that we came out of it alive. Lamina is also alive and relatively well, excluding the circumstances."
"Thank you, Coryo. Thank you for everything. For saving me that night and that you do not resent me for it." You whispered, trying not to cry. You nuzzled your cheek into his palm and placed a gentle kiss on it.
Coriolanus' face moved closer to yours and he gently brushed your lips with his own as if he was afraid he would frighten you.
"I am angry at you. Earlier even furious, but I love you too much to stay mad at you." Coryo gently rubbed his nose against yours and looked into your eyes.
His beautiful blue eyes. Cold, but at the same time it makes you feel at home. Eyes that yesterday were raging and at one point…full of hatred.
Your smile slowly disappeared as you remembered what happened to Bobbin.
"Do you want to talk about what happened yesterday-" you started uncertainly, but Coriolanus cut you off.
"No." His voice seemed cold and in a moment you were embarrassed and your heart beat faster. You were the reason he had to do it, and now you're reminding him of it. Maybe he thinks you are blaming it on him.
Your thoughts, however, were interrupted by your boyfriend's voice. Softer this time.
"I didn't mean to. I didn't want to do it, but it was stronger than me…Please don't hate me. I love you and I did it for you too."
His eyes were glassy and he seemed panicked. You shook your head in denial and took his hand in yours bringing it close to your lips and kissed his knuckles.
"No, you're a good person, Coryo. Nothing has changed. I continue to love you, and you only proved me during the night that I couldn't find a better one."
Coriolanus wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead.
"You know you don't have to…you don't have to be afraid of me. I wouldn't hurt you. Never."
You froze for a brief moment. It was as if he was reading your mind. How could you think that about him? He saved you. If not for him, you would be dead.
It was stronger than that. When he approached you this morning your heart was beating faster and a chill went through your body.
"It's because I love him. Typical reaction" You repeated to yourself in your mind.
Every time you felt his hands stroking your hair while you were hugging, you thought about how tightly he gripped that wooden plank with which he cracked the head of the boy in the arena. How the blood spurted onto his snow white shirt from his school uniform. And those eyes. The eyes that always made you feel butterflies in your stomach, and then they seemed so unfamiliar. You thought about how later after the situation at the arena, he tried to approach you, and you took a step back with your eyes wide open in horror.
Of course, he knew. You don't need to read minds to know that. And he was intelligent. He knew right away.
"I know, I know, Coryo. It's just…" you knew that if you continued your voice would break. Besides, you didn't know what to say. You snuggled into his neck hugging him more tightly at the waist. You don't want to hurt him with such thoughts, but they are so intrusive. You can't get them out of your head despite his reassurances, affectionate words and gentle touch. "I'm sorry, I should be there for you, and I'm making everything worse."
You whispered soaking the collar of his shirt with your tears.
His hand went to your hair gently stroking it.
"Stop, it's not your fault."
You stayed like that in each other's embrace, in silence. Words are not important now. What is important is that you are together and nothing will change that.
He will not hurt you. Yes, he won't hurt you.
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candycandy00 · 9 days
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The Visitors (Dabi x Reader)
Dabi is in prison and refusing to speak to anyone, even his family. Until you visit him, bringing a surprise bundled in your arms.
Fem Reader. Sex is mentioned but there’s no detailed smut. Divider by @benkeibear
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You and Touya were not in love. The two of you just happened to turn to each other occasionally when you were both horny and bored. You were a cook working at the villa for the PLF. He was a villain who showed up sporadically, always seeming to have secrets. But you always went into the kitchen, no matter what hour he showed up, and fixed him something to eat that wouldn’t upset his sensitive stomach. That’s how it started. 
Touya didn’t love you. You didn’t love him. But on the night before the huge attack on the hero school, what everyone was cryptically calling “the final battle”, you went to his room. 
He turned you away at first. He didn’t want to lose focus. But you’d stood rooted to the spot in his doorway, your eyes glassy as if you were about to cry. 
Even you didn’t know where the emotion came from. He was just a guy you slept with sometimes. But your voice sounded small and fragile when you said, “I just have this feeling… that I’ll never see you again after tonight.”
Touya looked at you, met your gaze, and asked, “That would bother you?”
Maybe he was being sarcastic, but you gave him a genuine answer. 
“I don’t want you to die.”
He’d looked away from you then, but invited you into his room. You spent the night in his bed, being fucked more gently than usual, and he was gone before you woke up the next morning. 
During the battle, you only crossed Touya’s mind once. He didn’t think about the many nights spent thrusting into you, or how your naked body seemed to glow in the moonlight that filtered in through his window. No, the one time you entered his rage-addled thoughts, he only saw your teary face in his doorway. 
After the fight was over, after the most grievous of Touya’s injuries had been repaired and he was, basically, left in a similar shape to when he originally joined the League of Villains, he was put in prison. 
Several different people tried to talk to him, or rather, get him to talk. A parade of therapists, investigators, psychologists, and other professionals were brought in to speak with Touya, but he wouldn’t utter a word. Even when his mom and his siblings came to see him, he sat in the visitation room, a quirk inhibiting collar around his neck and his arms in cuffs, completely silent. He had nothing to say to them or anyone else. He was simply waiting to die. 
Sometimes, lying awake in his cold and empty cell at night, his thoughts would turn to you. He would remember your skin soft and warm against his, your body trembling with pleasure beneath him, your hands in his hair. 
And then, inevitably, he would remember your face from that final night together, your quiet voice telling him you didn’t want him to die. 
He didn’t know why those words seemed to cling to his consciousness, to haunt him like a phantom. The two of you were never even a couple. He didn’t love you, and you didn’t love him. 
… Right?
Many months after his incarceration, after everyone had given up on getting Touya to speak, his youngest brother showed up out of the blue. 
“I’ve brought someone to see you,” Shouto told him. “She contacted me a few days ago. I think you’ll want to hear what she has to say.”
With that, Shouto left the room, and someone else stepped in. 
Touya’s eyes widened slightly when he saw that you were his visitor. He never imagined you would come to see him. Visiting someone in this prison wasn’t an easy task. But what surprised him even more than your presence was what you carried in your arms. 
A bundle of soft pink blankets that quivered with movement. 
“Touya,” you said, sitting in a chair across a metal table from him, “they said you haven’t spoken since… the battle. But I had to see you. I had to show you…”
Your voice trailed off as you shifted the tiny bundle and gently pulled the blankets back so that Touya could see the infant in your arms. 
His eyes shifted to the baby, then quickly away, as if he couldn’t bear to look at her. 
“I named her Aoi. She was born two weeks ago,” you told him, desperate for him to say something, to acknowledge you. After several minutes of silence passed, during which Touya wouldn’t even look up, you sighed and started to stand up. 
“Is she mine?”
The voice startled you. It had been so long since you’d heard it last. You lowered yourself back into the chair. 
“Of course she is. Just look at her.”
Touya’s gaze flicked back to your arms, his eyes finally focusing on the child. That deep red hair, just like his when he was a child, those bright blue eyes… there was no denying her. He knew, without question, that this was his daughter. 
His immediate, gut reaction was horror. He’d had zero intentions of becoming a father. He didn’t want to perpetuate the cycle of abuse and hatred his father had inflicted on him. 
But once the horror subsided, another emotion took its place. Something strange and nebulous, unfamiliar but warm. He’d never felt this emotion before, so he couldn’t attach a name to it. 
He looked you in the face, finally, and narrowed his eyes. “Don’t ever bring her here again,” he said harshly. “This place is dangerous. A guard was killed last week when someone tried to escape. For fuck’s sake, why did they let you bring a baby in here?”
You blinked, surprised by his reaction. “Your brother pulled some strings, I think. He escorted me in.”
Touya sighed. “Okay. Well, don’t bring her back unless Shouto is with you.”
He didn’t know very much about his youngest sibling, but he did know Shouto was strong, and was a hero who would defend a mother and baby with his life. 
You smiled with relief. “So you want to see her again? See me again?”
Touya’s face stiffened, just then realizing how transparent he’d been. He shrugged. “If you want to visit, that’s up to you. Don’t blame me if she has nightmares later.”
“Do you want to get a closer look?” you asked him. 
He reflexively pulled against the cuffs holding his arms in place behind his back. He could never hold his daughter, not like this. But you stood up and moved around the table separating you from Touya, bringing Aoi close and holding her up to his face. 
If the guards saw this, they would tear you out of the room immediately. Touya’s brother must have been keeping them away. Perhaps he was watching from somewhere, just to be safe. But Touya would never hurt Aoi, not intentionally at least. You believed that very strongly. 
A tiny hand reached up from the blankets and touched Touya’s face, causing him to flinch. He looked down at the small, chubby face smiling up at him, and was grateful that she was too young to understand that his face wasn’t normal, too young to be afraid of him. 
��Touya,” you said gently, not wanting to interrupt the tender moment but needing to say this, “they said if you’ll just talk to someone, if you’ll do the therapy program, you could be released.”
He looked up at you sharply. “Is that why you came? To get me to talk?”
“I came because I don’t want her to grow up without her father. Do you?”
A brief look of hurt passed over his features, so quick you almost missed it, then he drew back against his chair, out of Aoi’s reach. “No, I don’t want that,” he said. 
You smiled as you stepped away, toward the door. “Good. Then you’ll do the therapy program?”
Touya rolled his eyes. “Sure. Not that I think it’ll change anything.”
“Thank you, Touya,” you said. “We’ll come see you again soon.”
He didn’t say another word, just watched you leave, carrying his daughter. He sat in the empty room for a few minutes, then took a deep breath before yelling, “If any of you assholes wanna take a crack at my busted brain, come on! I’m all yours!”
350 notes · View notes
capricornlevi · 3 months
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no surprises - toji x reader
wc 1.6k - hitman!toji x mobwife!reader, fem!reader, strangers to lovers -dark elements (but not really related to sex -- toji breaks into reader's house to assassinate mob husband), cheating (technically -- reader's husband is a piece of shit lol)
nsfw, mdni
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Toji hates it when his hits have wives or girlfriends.
As cruel a bastard as he may be, the thought of unnecessary collateral makes him uneasy to say the least. It's messy, too, unnecessary and uncomfortable. When one of his targets has a wife there's a sure guarantee she'll be by his side more often than not. It increases the risk for all parties, whether they know of their involvement or not.
He wonders why these men never have the decency to get a divorce before involving themselves in shit like this.
And so, as he carefully picks the lock to your kitchen window, he hopes that tonight's job is clean. That you'll stay out of his way.
Kill the guy, clean up, and ideally, get out without even waking you.
So imagine his surprise when he makes his way inside as planned, turns down the hallway to get to the bedroom he's so carefully mapped this past week, only to find you standing pyjama-clad in the hallway with arms crossed, looking at him with an expression one could only describe as inconvenienced.
"He's not here," you mumble, the words laced with sleep but still pointed.
Toji prides himself on being quick on his feet, but in this rare instance, he's lost for words. He doesn't even draw his weapon.
"Uh ... hm ... what?" he finally decides, though the words leave him without much active decision-making on his part, spilling out into the cold night air.
"He's not here," you repeat, enunciating each word slowly. "Did you not hear me? Though that would explain why you made such a fucking racket breaking in."
"What the fuck-"
"And you're replacing that lock, by the way," you spit, eyes heated with frustration as you give him a once over. "I heard you give up and break it."
Toji's head could explode right here and now. How has this ... this cannot be happening ... he's carried out hits numbering in the three digits, and not one target has ever seen him coming, much less the wife of some low-ranking gangster who stole the wrong amount of money from the wrong people.
Still, you don't shy away from him, keeping your gaze fixed on his increasingly confused face.
"What do ya mean he isn't here?" Toji huffs then, finally realising the futility of this situation. Standing there stupidly isn't going to improve his image, he needs to cut to the chase. "Is he out?"
You huff a laugh. "You could say that."
He arches a scarred brow. "He's dead?"
"May as well be," you answer plainly, devoid of any sympathy or grief. "Kicked him out on Sunday. Tried to steal my engagement ring and then went after my parents, mumbling some shit about collecting their life insurance policy even though the idiot isn't even named on it. So I made a call and the name of his hotel is with your bosses now."
"Then why didn't they--"
You roll your eyes, exasperated. "How should I know? They probably sent some other guys to the hotel and kept you here in case that worm came wriggling back."
Toji's not sure why, but he believes you -- probably because of the unafraid, unemotional manner in which you're delivering this information. As though you're a teacher scolding him for a failed assignment.
He releases his grip on the weapon tucked at his hip -- he doesn't even remember at which point he went to grab it -- silently swearing at a wasted evening.
Sure, he'll still get the flat rate for a call-out like this one, but if he has proof of death he gets triple pay. He could really use that this month; he likes having his lights stay on for longer than forty-eight hours at a time, and figured tonight would've been an easy job, particularly with how stupidly your husband has been acting these last few months.
"Uh ... okay. Sorry for inconveniencin' ya," he mumbles, figuring it best to leave now without wasting either of your time any further.
He could stay here and argue more, but he's not in the mood. He needs to get back. Plus, he's already disrupted your night enough -- as curtly as you've addressed him these past few minutes, he can't say he doesn't see where your frustration is coming from.
In this short interaction, he's developed a sort of begrudging respect for this woman who views an assassination attempt in the same way most would view a parking ticket.
"Wait!" you call out just as he turns around. He hesitates -- though you don't seem like the type to call the police given your knowledge of your husband's business.
Maybe you're not finished giving him shit for this embarrassment of a botched assignment?
"Yeah?" he answers dutifully, brushing his hair from his eyes with a tired swipe of his hand, turning back to face you.
"Want to have a drink with me?" you ask straight-forwardly, arms still crossed and expression unmoving. "He left his 20-year whiskey behind, and I haven't had new company since he weaselled his way into my life."
"I-"
"If you've nothing better to do, anyway."
This woman ...
He has never had as difficult a time reading someone in his entire lie.
"Well?" you press, a hint of impatience growing in that beautiful voice. "What do you want to do?"
Surprise once against takes precedence over any other emotion in Toji's body.
Tonight couldn't get any weirder. He's sure of it.
Except it definitely can, as he discovers just thirty minutes later, with you sitting atop him as he's spread out on your bed, riding him so hard the bed rattles against the wall.
This is a little fucked up. You both know it. He came here to kill your husband, but it's so hard for him to care about minor details like that when he sees how your tits bounce with every thrust upwards, how your face looks when it's torn in pleasure.
Your husband is a bigger idiot than he thought.
You haven't been touched like this in a long time, haven't had someone's hands on you like you deserve, and that thought enrages him for some reason.
His focus for tonight has shifted entirely. He's no longer out to kill, to hurt, his one responsibility is to make you cry out on his cock, on his tongue, on his fingers, until both of your voices are worn out and hoarse.
You're so pretty like this, so responsive to every twirl of his thumb and jerk of his hips.
Though -- and he hates to admit it -- you're exerting some control over him as well. His well-worn self-discipline is being tested like never before. On your couch just a few minutes ago, with his mouth spread against you and your leg tossed over his shoulder, you had managed to then manoeuvre yourself until your fist was wrapped around his cock, your pretty fingers stroking him until his breaths sounded choked and desperate, until a flush spread up his chest to his neck and jawline.
He had to still your wrist to keep from coming all over his own chest. That would lose him any shred of credibility he had left.
He's obsessed with the way you kiss him, too, so hungry and desperate with no sign of that earlier unshakability you possessed. He's sure you still have yourself in some semblance of control -- though he barely knows you, he knows you wouldn't relent that quickly -- but you release yourself a little, sinking into it with a quiet moan that sends ripples up his spine.
And now, with your hips sitting flush against his own, it's hard to imagine caring about a single other thing than the sight of his cock disappearing inside you.
You take him so well, every inch of him, knowing exactly what to say to drive him insane. In turn, he learns what he can from your reactions, each microexpression showing him how you like to be touched.
You toss your head back, that beautiful throat gulping down gasps of air in between cries of Toji's name, shoulders tight with the tension of keeping yourself seated on him.
He gives you more when you ask for it, pumping up into you and relishing the answering groans and mewls of pleasure.
(Honestly, he'd give you anything you wanted from him. He'd give you the shirt off his back if you requested it with those pretty doe eyes and your lips curled into that sly little smile.)
A familiar heat curls in his stomach but in a way he's entirely unfamiliar with; usually, it builds slowly and reliably, bit by bit, but this time it rises erratically and without any sign of when he's approaching the edge.
This is dangerous. You're dangerous for him, you have him in the palm of your hand and hold the ability to crush him into tiny pieces if you so wish. It scares him while also sending pulses of pleasure straight to his cock, coupled with the feeling of your throbbing clit as he circles it with his thumb --
Thankfully, you fall apart at the same time, spasms of pleasure overtaking every single thought in either of your heads.
As you settle into the afterglow, Toji is in no rush to move you or shift himself. He runs a roughened hand over your thigh, the skin smooth as silk, marvelling at how you shiver under the touch.
He just looks up at you, that hint of confusion from earlier still present but accompanied by something else.
Strange, he thinks to himself. Not a wasted evening after all.
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runningfrom2am · 4 months
Text
cold nights // part four
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summary: all the stars aligned, and it was you.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 2.9k
masterlists / nav / requests
tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.
a/n: this is your reminder to reblog and comment on fics you like!! it helps us writers out a TON the girlies who get it get it. thanks!!
series masterlist // playlist
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"I just have to ask you a few questions... is that okay?" Coriolanus asks, sitting across from you at the small table you find yourself chained to.
"Please." You nod, grinning at him. You were so tired, the bags under your eyes were evidence enough of that. Screw getting you food- Coryo is worried if you don't sleep you'll be all but useless in the games, even if all he needs you to do is run and hide.
"It's just so people can get to know you a bit better. Okay, so..." He looks down at the sheet in front of him, tapping the pencil against the table as he tries to focus on reading. "First, nice and easy, what is your full name?"
"Y/N M/N L/N."
"Great... Okay, and where are you from?"
"District Twelve, born and raised."
"How old are you?"
"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen next week." You smile.
"Oh, really?" He asks, pausing mid-sentence as he starts writing it down.
"Yeah." You smile. "Hopefully I'll live to see the day."
"You will." He tries to be reassuring as he scribbles the finished answer on his sheet. God, you got unlucky. Not that his eighteenth was a big celebration like some of his classmates, but Tigris made him a cake with ingredients she'd been saving up for and she refit his school uniform for him. You wouldn't even have that- you would be spending the day fighting for your life, if you even made it that long.
"And who is in your family unit?" He reads directly from the slip as he forces himself to move on.
"Well, there's me, my brother, he's fifteen, and then my ma and pa." You nod. "Well, my pa isn't home much. Lots of work in the mines; usually has sixteen-hour days. I hardly ever see him." You admit, sadness laced into your tone. "Saw him, I mean."
"My father died in Twelve." Coryo says, catching you off guard. He doesn't even fully understand why he felt the need to tell you this. "About ten years ago, it was rebels."
"I remember that." You reply quietly, recalling the lockdown placed on the District after the murder of a peacekeeper general. "He was the general. Crassus Snow, I assume?"
"Yes."
Everyone was forced into their homes at gunpoint, and in search of the responsible parties everyone you knew had their home destroyed by peacekeepers. Yourself included. Your bed was torn apart, and your mattress shredded for any hidden weapons or plans. Since then, you have shared a bed with your brother. A new mattress was hard to make, and your ma never got the free time or materials again.
Up until this week, that was the scariest day of your life. Just before the peacekeepers kicked in your door, your mother had grabbed the two of you and shoved you into an opening under the floorboards- a crawlspace made from a faulty foundation. You were in there for what felt like hours, listening to shouting and your home being ruined as you held onto each other with a hand pressed over your brother's mouth to keep him from crying too loud. Your mother's cries that day never seemed to end.
"It's a small world." You say after a solid few moments of silence, and Coryo can see it in the way you're staring at his paper that you're not reading it. You're zoned out completely. "I'm sorry that happened to you. It must have been scary."
"The war was hard on all of us." He responds. "What... what do you remember?" He had never heard anything about it besides the bare bones of what happened, he had never considered that the people of Twelve would remember it as well. And judging by the look on your face, it wasn't a good memory.
"I was about six, maybe seven, and I was playing with my brother, and I didn't hear anything but my ma must have because she grabbed us and hid us under the floorboards so fast I could have got whiplash. Peacekeepers came into our home, tore the whole thing to shreds, hurt my ma, then took off. Onto the next house. I didn't find out until a while later that rebels killed the peacekeeper general, they were looking for any evidence of conspiracy, I guess. The people who did it."
"Sounds like it was scarier for you than for me."
"But I want you to know," You speak so quickly you almost cut him off. "My parents had nothing to do with it. My pa is an honest, good man. All he ever wanted was to keep us safe. We're not rebels, I promise you that."
Coriolanus almost wishes you were, so he wouldn't be so hurt by what his people were putting you through. "I know. I wouldn't blame you for that."
"Thank you." You whisper, picking at your nails now as you look down at your shaky hands.
Coryo clears his throat, forcing himself to look away from you. "Uh..." He chuckles at the next question, making you look up at him again. "Are you married?"
"No." You reply, having almost completely forgotten about the worksheet in front of him. "I'm not."
"It's just... I just, I have to ask." He says, clearing his throat as he writes it down.
"Of course." You nod in understanding.
"Boyfriend?" He asks, and as you squint at the sheet you can see it's not there, and he quickly covers the next lines with his palm, cheeks flushing pink.
"Yes." You giggle as he snaps his head up to look at you.
"You do?" He asks, voice catching as his curls fall back onto his forehead from the sudden movement.
"Yes, what is so wrong in that?" You raise an eyebrow at him, trying not to laugh.
"No, no, I mean, of course you do, you're beautiful, I just, you never mentioned-"
"Relax, Coriolanus. I'm kidding." You smile at the panic in his tone. "No, I don't have a boyfriend."
"Oh, right. Thanks, it's just for, yeah..." He mumbles, pretending to write something down behind his cupped hand so you couldn't see.
You shake your head at him while he's not paying attention, smiling to yourself.
"So, uh, do you have a job?"
"Not formally, but my ma is a seamstress. I help her lots with that. Fixing people's work clothes, stuff like that." You answer, getting back on topic.
"Did you make your dress?" He asks.
"Now I know that question's not on that form of yours." You laugh. "But yes, my ma made it for me when I was five. It's been my favourite ever since."
He looked the parts of it over that he could see above the table. It was well worn down, but well cared for. Similar to a lot of his own clothing.
"It used to be this big, flowing thing. Too big for a five year old- I would step on the bottom of it, just tore it right up." You recall. "So we trimmed the bottom, and as I grew, it grew right with me. I stitched up the bottom when I was old enough to enter the reaping, so now it's got shorts instead. But I still love it, lots of good memories held in the pockets of this old thing."
Shorts instead. So it's easier to run in. The thought haunts Coryo for a moment. The idea that you, at twelve years old, decided this is what you would want to run in, to die in, and took the liberty of sewing up the crotch in it yourself. Every stitch possibly sealing your fate.
"It's nice. I like it." He responds.
"Thank you." You smile, nodding proudly to yourself as you look down at the fabric. "It's real comfy, too."
"It looks it. Not very... restricting." He chooses his words wisely. No wonder you had kept it so many years. It still fit, so why not? Especially when it looked so good on you. The typically plain, neutral tone of the fabric complimented your skin tone so well. Even in bad lighting, it seemed as though you were glowing where the cloth met your skin. Glowing everywhere, now that he thought about it. Maybe you just lit up every room you walked into. Maybe it wasn't the clothing that was made just for you and hugged your form so flawlessly, maybe it was just you.
"Yes, it is not." You agree. "Now, our time is limited. Next question." You interrupt his thoughts, gesturing to the sheet of paper in between you.
"Yes, sorry." Coryo chuckles, shaking the distraction from his head. "Any hobbies?
"Reading."
"I did know that." He smiles to himself. "Anything else?"
"Well..." You think about it for a moment, chewing your lip. "I have a cat, and I like to play with him and take care of him, does that count?"
"I'll count it." He nods, quickly jotting it down. "What's your cat's name?" He asks, purely out of curiosity.
"Tybalt." You giggle.
"Tybalt?" Coryo tilts his head at you and you nod, bottom lip drawn between your teeth.
He nods slightly, prompting you to explain. "He's named after a character from Romeo and Juliet."
"That's your favourite, I remember."
"Good king of cats, nothing but one of your nine lives." You quote. "Mercutio calls Tybalt the king of the cats, so I named him after that."
"That's clever. Very funny."
"Thank you. I thought so." You smile proudly, watching him write down your cats name in his notes. "What is this for, if I can ask?"
"Uh, there's going to be an interview you'll have to do the night before the games. It'll be aired live on Capitol television, and people will be able to send in donations so I can send you things in the arena. Just like I told you." Coryo explains.
"An interview?" You ask. "What does that entail?"
"Well, I'm not sure yet." He answers honestly. "But we'll pass this sheet onto the host, Lucky, if you remember him, and he can ask you questions about your family, your life, any of this stuff. I think really whatever we want, though, so if there's anything in particular you want to say or talk about I can write that down for you."
"Oh, I'm really not sure." You reply. "Nothing in particular, but if you need me to talk I can talk about books for hours on end." You smile.
"Could you do a monologue?" He suggests. He had discussed this with Tigris before, and he was hoping you would, but knowing you, you would be dropping quotes in your interview anyway so you might as well commit to it and display how smart you are with something well-planned.
"Maybe, if you could find me a copy of Romeo and Juliet." You smile. "I think I know it, but it would be nice to have a refresher. Just to make sure I get it right. Would be awfully embarrassing if I made a mistake."
Coryo nods, quickly writing that down in the margins of the page. Considering he had never even heard of this book, it may be hard, but he would certainly try for you. "That would be great. Your goodbye was very moving, although quite confusing for most, but it had people talking about you and that's what we want."
"Okay. I'll practice."
"Thank you." Coryo smiles. "And I just have one more question on here to fill out... Do you have any special skills that you think will be helpful in the games?"
Your smile fades slightly and you just shake your head.
"That's okay. We'll figure it out."
That night, Coryo came to see you again. You were curled up with his blanket, draped half over yourself and half over Jessup as he lay next to you. It was a small blanket, obviously meant for a child, but it helped anyway. Maybe it was just a placebo, but for you, that was more than enough.
As you got up, hearing him call your name in a familiar tone, you draped the blanket more fully over Jessup before making your way over to the bars of the enclosure. "Good evening, Coryo. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"I brought you some things." He whispers, digging in his bag.
"How kind." You smile, watching as he pulls things out, handing you a napkin with some bread wrapped inside and tucking whatever else he brought under his arm to give to you after you've eaten. "Can you sit for a few minutes?"
"Of course." He nods, sitting down with you as you cross your legs and unfold the fabric carefully as not to drop what's inside. "I was hoping to talk to you anyway."
"Let's talk; it is not day." You smile, leaning toward him more.
"Should I be asking what that's from?" He jokes, but is surprised when you shrug.
"You could, but I wouldn't want to bore you." You giggle, shaking your head. "Take a guess, though. I believe you'd know it."
He smiles, watching as you take a bite out of the bread. "Romeo and Juliet?"
"Yes." You nod in confirmation, covering your mouth while you speak. "You're a real fan, now, aren't you?"
"I guess so." He chuckles. "The fact that I've never read it is unimportant."
"Completely irrelevant." You agree with a quiet laugh. His smile fades as his eyes land on something behind you, and you turn to follow his gaze over your shoulder. "What are you looking at?" You whisper, looking back at him again.
"Are you sharing everything I bring you with Jessup?" He asks, voice stern as his brow furrows at the question.
"I try to." You nod, taking another bite. "He's not well. I think something bit him the first night we were here."
"You can't." Coryo insists. Of course, he wants you to win, and you handing over every bit of sustenance or help you receive is only lessening your odds. Making Jessup stronger and you only weaker. "I know you're a good person, but once you get in that arena you won't have any friends. Not even him." Coryo explains, strategically skipping over the part where it makes him ill to see you sleeping with your head on the boy's shoulder and sharing the blanket that he gifted to you.
"Oh..." You say, so quietly he can hardly hear. "But-"
"Y/N." He cuts you off, a serious look on his face. "If you keep feeding him, keep helping him, and it comes down to you and him in the end, who do you think will win in that fight? If you had all the same nutrients and sleep, who do you think will win?"
"I- well..." You stutter, looking back at your friend. "It won't come to that. I think we both know that."
"We have to assume it will." He pleads, eyes now locked on yours. "Don't make it easier for him."
"Coryo, he's got a family, siblings, his ma to get home to. They need him." You protest, leaning closer so no one else could properly hear.
"So do you." He reminds you. The look of guilt that crosses your face indicates to him that even though you had your own family, something about Jessup makes you willing to give that up for him to get home. "What about Tybalt? He'll never know what happened to his own mother. Or your brother losing his sister. Y/N, please..."
Your eyes widen at the mention of your cat and your brother in particular. Clearly, Coryo is so desperate for you to listen that he's pulling strings he shouldn't. To make you hurt. To make you pay attention.
Tears fill your eyes as you speak. "I know." Your voice cracks, and the pit in Coryo's stomach tells him he's gone too far. "I'm sorry, I just- I don't want to be afraid anymore. It's selfish of me, I know, but I won't last long and I know that so I just want to get it over with." You cry quietly, reaching up to wipe your eyes on your wrist. You hadn't been so candid with him before, he almost doesn't recognize you without a smile on your face.
"Hey, no, don't be sorry. It's not selfish." He whispers, without hesitation reaching through the bars and resting his hand on your knee. Your skin is cold to the touch, even for him after he had just walked all the way here in the same air. "But it'll be over soon, and I'll get you home. I'll do everything I can."
You sniff and nod, hesitating before placing your hand over his. "I promise I'll do my best in the interview. I want you to win your prize."
Coryo's mouth gets dry at the insinuation. You didn't think you could win, you won't even consider it even with all the encouragement he tries to feed you every day, but you want him to win. "That's not important." He says, shocking himself with the sentiment. The Plinth Prize is his only hope at a viable future, at saving his family. But right now, he doesn't even care.
You don't respond right away, just sliding your hand under his to hold it. His skin on yours feels warm, comforting, the same way it did when he held it when you were first dumped in the zoo. You don't know if it's more comforting to you or him.
"I'm sorry to cry at you, I just sometimes realize what's going to happen to me and spiral over the possibilities and no matter how hard I try to accept it..." You shake your head, looking down at your hands. "I'm still fearful." Your voice drops below a whisper.
"Then don't accept it." Coryo grasps your hand tighter, leaning closer to you and looking at you through the bars. "Fight. Try to win."
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taglist: @soulessjourney, @keziahcore, @that-veela-girl, @motorsport, @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs, @Lanadelrey3, @rawrmameh, @3zae-zae3, @babyspice6, @pastel0rchid, @maysileeewrites, @articxari, @Urfavpouge, @Multivitaminfy, @baybieruth, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @drewsandsebastianswife, @niicole-87, @queenofshinigamis, @innercreationflower, @nallasstuff, @spring-goddess1, @baybieruth, @lovelyxtom, @throughgoeshxmilton, @enwonie, @scorpiolystoned, @iovemoonyy, @kodzuvk, @soupasoup, @eedwardss, @thatmarvelchick19, @wearemadeofstardust0, @regulusblackcore, @kbakery , @qardasngan, @omgsuperstarg, @kuroosbby001, @puredreamagination,
if your user has a strikethrough i wasn't able to tag you! i'm so sorry!
404 notes · View notes
coolemmasulivan · 4 months
Text
Fighting
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Pairing: Mason Mount x Reader
Summary: Reader and Mason have a big fight because of their own day-to-day problems. But quickly they realise they can't live without one another.
Word count: 3684
Author’s note: English isn’t my first language, so I apologise for my mistakes.
If you ever go to pieces Fall between thе thunder clouds I will put you back together, I won't let you down
It was rare to happen. You could count the times you fought with Mason with only one hand and didn't need the five fingers to do it.
It was the stress from both parties, but both of you were stubborn to apologize first. He was stressed about the fact that he wasn't playing like he used to and the fact that he was not part of the England squad only made things worse. Your workload increased significantly when one of your colleagues quit, and your boss decided not to hire anyone new, but to give you all their work instead.
The argument between you and Mason had been brewing for a while, but you both tried to ignore it and carry on with your day-to-day lives. However, as the tension built up, it eventually reached a boiling point. You can't quite recall how it all started, but you vividly remember the moment when both of your tempers reached their peak, and everything exploded. Eventually, unable to take it anymore, you stormed out of the house, leaving Mason behind.
"Can I stay here tonight?" You asked your best friend when she opened her apartment door. You were feeling super cold, forgetting to take your coat when you slammed the door of the house you shared with Mason.
"What-- of course you can. You don't need to ask." She quickly pulled you inside. She wrapped her arms around you, feeling the dampness of your sweater. It was clear that you had been crying, but she didn't ask any questions.
You collapsed onto the sofa, and she handed you her warmest blanket. You stared at the TV, which was playing a random movie, and a tear streamed down your face.
Eva left you alone for a moment, but returned with a hot chocolate and your favorite cookies. She placed them down on the coffee table and you sat up, wrapped up in the grey blanket. "Mason and I had a fight."
"Ryan left his baseball bat in my car." You laughed at her words. "I can break his legs."
"Don't say that, you stupid." She handed you the hot mug and you took a sip.
"Was it serious?"
"We said some hurtful things to each other, yes." You swallowed the lump in your throat. "I told him I wish I had never met him." Your best friend opened her mouth in surprise. "He told me he wished he had never asked me to be his girlfriend. And more things like that."
"I can't believe him! I told him I would kill him if he hurt you."
"Guess we're both going to die then. You're murdering him and his friends will murder me."
She grabbed the cookies and made you eat one when you told her you weren't hungry.
"Did you break up?" It was the million-one dollar question. Did you?
"I don't know! I don't think so. At least I didn't break up with him. I love him too much to do that." You looked at the ceiling and cleaned the tears that were starting to fall again. "I just need some space from him right now."
She sat down next to you and you placed your head on her lap. "You can stay here as long as you want."
"What about Ryan?"
"What about him? He loves you just as much as I do. You don't need to worry about him. It's going to be okay."
After hours had passed and you still hadn't returned, Mason began to feel anxious. Though he was still upset with you - and with himself - he didn't want anything bad to happen to you. He grabbed his phone, intending to call you, but he didn't know what to say. Instead, he decided to text your best friend.
Mason: Hey Eva, have you talked with Y/a these past few hours?
Eva: She's staying with me. Good night Mason."
The answer was cold and he knew she wasn't happy with him. He had hurt her best friend.
He knew she was safe, so he turned off the TV and went to bed alone. However, he found it challenging to fall asleep in the large, empty bed. It smelled of your perfume, and he couldn't seem to get warm even with multiple layers on top.
After a minute or two, he sat up, grabbed his phone from the nightstand and texted you. He just needed to be sure.
Mason: Please, just tell me we didn't break up. This can't be our last conversation.
He let out a sigh and fell back on the bed. Two minutes later you answered him.
Y/a: No, we didn't break up! But I think we need some time apart from each other. Good night Mason.
Three weeks had gone by and you and Mason were still not talking. You were staying with Eva and Ryan, and the only time you went back to the house was to get some clothes when you knew Mason wouldn't be there.
Mason was putting all his effort into football but you were always on his mind. You were the first thing in the morning and the last thing at night.
It was the worst fight you ever had and the longest time you had been without speaking with each other and both of you were miserable but too stubborn to apologize first.
After a successful practice, Mason drove away. Without realizing it, 15 minutes later he parked in front of your workplace. He thought that perhaps if he saw you, he would take the courage to finally apologize for all the horrible things he had said to you. However, when he noticed that all your coworkers had left and you didn't, he started to worry.
He got out of the car when he saw one of your coworkers leaving the building, looking for something in her bag.
"Beatrix?" The woman looked back and smiled at him.
"Mason! So good to see you." They hugged. "What are you doing here?"
"I was waiting for Y/a! Is she still inside?" She looked at him confused. "What?"
"I mean-- don't you know?"
"Know what?"
"Y/a doesn't work with us anymore." Mason couldn't believe what he was hearing. "She quit three days ago."
It was still early in the morning, the sky was clean and the sun was shining. Living in Manchester, you didn't know how long the weather was going to stay like that, so with the free time you had since you decided to quit your job, you decided to run around the park.
You were listening to your new favourite song when a call interrupted it. You stopped and saw Mason's sister's name on the screen.
"Hello?"
"Wow, you okay? You sound tired." You laughed and sat down on the empty old bench.
"I decided to get back at running. I had the time so I thought why not."
"Weren't you supposed to be working?"
"Uhh… I quit." Jaz sounded surprised on the other end of the phone. "It was just messing with my head. It became too much so I quit."
"I'm sorry Y/a. Mason didn't meantion anthing." Because he doesn't know. You were talking about how life was going until she reminded you, "So, we're leaving after lunch. Do you want to meet at the stadium or at the house?"
You took a minute to understand. "What?"
"The game, remember? We're driving up to watch the game and spend the weekend."
You had completely forgotten about the game. During your conversation with Jaz, you could sense that Mason hadn't mentioned anything about the fight and that left you wondering what he would say to them when they arrived and realized that you weren't talking. Maybe that was a sign to finally step forward and talk to him. Apologize.
Just like you, Mason had also forgotten that his family was coming over. He hadn't told them about the fight and he didn't know what he would say when someone asked about you. But when his sister sent him a photo of you holding his niece in a warm and lovely hug before the game, he felt his heart melting and a lot of tension leaving his body. Along with the photo, his sister made sure to let him know that she was aware of the fight.
Jaz: Just wanted to give you a heads-up, she's here and she's got your name on her T-shirt, although is not visible. Good luck! We're all rooting for you. And don't worry, she'll wait for you.
The game ended with a great performance from Mason and a win for United. It was the first time he felt like his old self again and he wanted to believe it was all because of you. He always played at his best when he knew you were in the stadium.
As soon as he stepped into the VIP box, he scanned the room for you, but his niece caught him off guard.
"Uncle Mase!" She ran toward him and Mason picked her up, planting a kiss on her cheek while she wrapped her small arms around his neck.
"My favourite person! Hello, bug." His eyes fell on you and he didn't know if it was his imagination or the fact that he hadn't seen you in two weeks, but you looked skinnier. But you looked as beautiful as always.
You were standing at the back, watching Mason greet his family. You felt shy and awkward, which made you hate the feeling even more. All you wanted was to go back to how things used to be. You haven't slept well in two weeks and Mason looked exactly the same.
It was no secret that Summer enjoyed seeing you and Mason together, as she had grown up seeing the two of you together, so it was no surprise that when he placed her down, she grabbed Mason's hand and pulled him toward you.
"Look! We are wearing the same clothes." She sounded excited, showing her uncle the matching United t-shirts. "To support you."
"I can see that, bug. I played well, thanks to both of you." He kissed her head and looked at you. "So, thank you!"
"Summer, let's meet the other players! There are some we haven't met yet. Come on." The little girl ran toward her mother and they all left you and Mason alone, making the room suddenly feel smaller "We'll wait downstairs." She said, closing the door behind her.
"Hi!" His voice was gentle like he was afraid to say something. "How have you been?"
It felt like it was the first time you were talking to each other all over again.
"I'm good. What about you? Good game! Congratulations"
"Thanks. I'm good. We needed this win." He scratched the back of his neck and looked around. One thing was for sure, he hadn't missed those nervous butterflies in his stomach. He felt like a little boy. "Didn't expect to see you here."
"I'm not going to stop supporting you just because we're on a break."
He felt his heart stop but at the same time, it melted for the fact that you still cared. "So is that what we are doing? We're on a break?"
He looked at you, but you looked away. You were always shy when it came to eye contact, and Mason's eyes were one of your weaknesses. "I-- After what we said to each other, I think we needed it."
"I didn't mean anything of that." He quickly said. "I hope you know that."
"I know and I didn't mean it either, but we both have problems that we need to learn how to leave outside the house."
"I heard you quit your job."
You looked at him surprised. "How do you know that?"
"I was waiting for you one of these days and Beatrix told me." He took a step closer. "I'm sorry that I didn't realise you were suffering so much in that workplace. I was so focused on football, that I forgot to actually pay attention to what is important. You!" Your heart started beating faster. Mason was always good with words. He always knew what to say to make you fall in love a little more every day. "I miss you." He said, placing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're the most important person in my life and living without you has been the worst thing ever."
"Is not your fault. You have your problems too and I didn't pay attention to them either. We're both at fault." You both looked at each other.
He still had his hand on the strand of hair he had tucked behind your ear while he gazed at your lips. The air was thick with tension, and all you craved was to wrap your arms around his neck, pull him close and kiss him passionately.
"We s-- we should go down." You said, clearing your throat. "Your family is waiting."
You took a step back to walk toward the door, but Mason quickly and gently grabbed your wrist. "Will you come home with us?"
"Mase..."
"Please! If at the end of the night, you still want to go to Eva's, I'll drive you there. But please, just come home today." He didn't need to beg, but he continued. "Summer would love to spend time with you. I want to spend time with you."
"Okay. I'll go." He smiled.
You were at home, in yours and Mason's house, feeling happy once again. You were sitting on the floor, helping Summer with a puzzle, after Mason's mom expelled you from the kitchen. Meanwhile, Mason and his sister sat down on the couch to watch a random movie their brother had put on.
"She's so good with her!" His sister said.
"Yes, she is." He looked at you, seeing you laugh at something his niece had said. "I think I fucked up."
"If you had fucked up, she wouldn't be here."
"We said some really bad things to each other."
"But neither of you meant it. And she knows that." She put her hand over his shoulder. "She loves you very much, everyone can see that. And you love her. You just need to show her that."
"Yes. I can't lose her."
"You won't."
After dinner, and some embarrassing stories from his parents, Mason picked a festive Christmas movie and made some popcorn, which his niece and brother ate the most.
You were lying on the big coach next to Mason, who had his feet on the coffee table, with Summer lying against you, when you felt your eyes getting heavier. You hadn't been sleeping well and now that you were comfortable with Mason and his family, the sleep was taking over you.
Mason had his hoodie on when he felt his brother hit his head. "Ouch! What the hell?" He looked at his brother and saw him pointing at you. Next to him, he saw you sleeping, cuddling his niece against your chest, while the little girl watched the movie attentively.
"The movie is finishing. Why don't you take her to bed?" His mom said and just like that, the movie credits rolled up, making Summer move in your arms.
You opened your eyes and saw everybody stand up. You had fallen asleep.
"You should go to bed." Mason said when you sat up. When he saw your expression, he added, "I'll sleep on the couch, don't worry."
But you weren't worried about that. Actually, you wanted to sleep next to him. You wanted to fall asleep next to him and have his warm arms around you. So when his niece jumped on his arms and asked him the question, you had to control yourself not to smile.
"Can I sleep in your bed with you and Auntie Y/a?" Everybody in the room tried not to laugh, while Mason became red in embarrassment and nervousness.
"I-- I'm not-- why don't you..."
"Of course you can sweetie!" You said, surprising Mason. The little girl jumped from his lap in happiness.
Jaz kissed her forehead. "Be a good girl and don't keep them up, okay?" She nodded and hugged her father's leg.
Saying goodnight to everyone, Mason carried the little girl as you three went upstairs to the bedroom.
It was clean and tidy just like the day you had left.
You grabbed one of your pyjamas and went to the bathroom to change. You brush your teeth and change into your pyjamas, as you hear Mason's and Summer's laugh from the bedroom. You had missed that sound.
When you stepped out, Summer was already down the covers, lying comfortably in the middle of the bed. Mason grabbed his pyjama bottoms and entered the bathroom.
"Auntie Y/a, come to bed." She told you. You smiled and jumped on the bed, showering her with kisses and making her laugh. "No. Stop it."
"Why? I missed you." You tickled her and she jumped out of bed, running to Mason as he left the bathroom shirtless, in only his pyjama bottoms. I missed you too.
"Uncle Mase, help me! Auntie Y/a is tickling me."
"Oh is she?" He picked her up and as if you weren't in the room he said, "Guess we'll have to tickle her too."
When they smiled at you like the Grinch, you knew you were fucked. You hated tickles. "Don't!"
You were the first to wake up. You were always the first to wake up. Mason liked to sleep and since he didn't have practice, you were sure wasn't going to wake up anytime soon.
It didn't come as a surprise, that Summer was no longer in between you two. She would always leave in the middle of the night to go to her parent's bed. She was a sneaky one. And it was no surprise either that Mason's arm found his way around your waist, pulling you closer against him.
This had been the best night's sleep since you had left the house and when you turned around and saw Mason's relaxed face you could tell he felt the same way. You didn't even know what you were doing, but the next thing you knew, you were kissing the corner of his lips. He moved a little, but he didn't wake up. You let out a relief sign and carefully got out of his embrace and out of bed.
Mason woke up, feeling cold but very well-rested. But when he looked at your side and saw it empty his panic started to build. Have you left again?
He got out of bed and after putting on a warm old hoodie, he left the room. His parents and sister were having breakfast, but you weren't.
"Good morning, sweetie." His mom welcomed him.
He gave her a kiss on the head. "Good morning." He grabbed a mug for his coffee and stole a toast from his sister, which hit his arm. "Have you seen Y/a?" He asked, afraid of the answer.
"She went to the bakery down the road with Summer." He felt like the world had been lifted off his shoulders. "After we leave, make things right with her. She's the best woman you'll ever going to find." His dad said.
"I know. I know."
After lunch, Mason's family left, leaving the two of you alone. He sat down on the couch and you sat next to him. Not too close but also not too far.
Mason could smell your perfume and he felt the need to pull you closer. "I'm sorry." He finally said. "For everything I said. I was angry and I wanted to hurt you, but I didn't mean anything. Asking you to be my girlfriend was the best thing I've ever done. And asking you to move in with me… I can't live without you." He swallowed the lump in his throat, as you played with the rings in your hand. "I've been sleeping on the couch because I can't sleep in the bed without you. That's how bad I've got it."
So that's why the room was clean as the day you left, you thought to yourself.
You looked up and looked at him. He looked sad and you knew he was sorry, because so were you.
"I said worse things." You started. "I wish I could take them all back because I didn't mean it. I don't even want to know what my life would be like if I hadn't met you. I love you. You're the love of my life and I--" You got suddenly interrupted when Mason put his hand behind your neck and pulled you close, locking your lips with his.
The kiss was neddy and desperate but sweet and passionate at the same time. Your hand cupped his cheek while his was still in your neck. Kissing him was addictive and the world around seemed to stop. He was your safe place and without a doubt, you were his.
When you pulled apart in desperate need of air, you stared at each other. A little more in love.
"Let's fix this!" He whispered. His head leaned against yours. "I don't want to lose you."
"You're not going to lose me."
"I want to marry you, I want to have kids with you, I want to grow old with you." He said, making you blush. "Fuck... I want to wake up everyday with you by my side, kiss you day and night and make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world."
"Stop it, you know I hate those cliches."
Mason smiled. "You hate them because they're directed for you."
"Yeah... So stop it."
"But why should--" This time you kissed him, cupping his face and sitting on his lap. He always gets distracted when you sit on his lap.
"I love you, Mount!" You broke the kiss and hugged him, hiding your face in his neck.
He hugged you back, running his hand up and down your back. "I love you too. You're the love of my life."
670 notes · View notes
miraclewoozi · 5 months
Text
DRIVE. - l.c
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DRIVE -- or, the night you realise it's actually very hard to stay mad at the guy who shows up at your house, throwing stones at your window on a Thursday night, to try and fix something that was your mistake in the first place.
pairing : chan x fem reader. content : fwb > lovers. angst, smut (MINORS DO NOT HAVE MY CONSENT TO INTERACT), fluff. more or less in that order. they’re both dumb as hell. not explicitly put in any detail but this was written with a more 70s vibe in mind so feel free to bear that in mind when thinking of the car/tech/styles etc if u like. w/c : 7.8k warnings : lots of swearing. it’s all a big fuckin misunderstanding because i am a whore for that. weed & alcohol mentioned (neither party is drunk or high at the time of this taking place). mentions of past cheating (neither mc or chan are the cheater). some pov switching because i said so. let me know if i've forgotten anything. proofread exactly once so if there's a typo, no there isn't. SMUT TAGS UTC.  notes : dino. get the fuck off my ass. i’m so serious i am not strong enough to handle the very real feelings i have for you. go away.  notes 2.0 : i listened to halsey’s drive for some inspo for this & took that as the title, so feel free to give it a listen if you want!
SMUT TAGS : dom!chan. car fuckin', making out, hair pulling, grinding/dry humping, fingering, finger sucking, dick riding, marking/scratching, unprotected sex (make good choices), overstimulation, multiple orgasms. praise. chan calls reader ‘baby’ & ‘sweetheart’. he’s a BIG talker during sex (sorry).
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You’re not stupid. You heard his car pull up outside your house almost an hour ago. 
Since then, at random intervals ranging anywhere between thirty seconds and five minutes, there have been clinks of a thrown stone at your bedroom window, a piece of the gravel that lines your driveway. Each time, it makes your jaw tense, makes your fingers tighten in the bedsheets you pulled all the way up to your chin in a foul mood at 8pm. It’s been the same now for almost two weeks — you’ve been getting home from work, showering the day away, eating your dinner and retiring to your room as early as you possibly can. Your roommate tried to find out what was wrong around day three but you very promptly shut her down — she’s since learned that the best she’s getting out of you currently is a dismissive wave of your hand or some kind of a grunt. She joked one evening that it was like she’d adopted a teenager; you scowled so violently that she went to her room. 
Hardly any of your other friends have seen anything of you, either, despite the fact that several have come knocking to check if you’re all right. 
You’re very much not all right, as it happens. This is perhaps the most upset you’ve ever felt, and that’s going quite some way. The angriest, too. It’s worse than when that middle aged woman threw her entire bucket of popcorn at your head when you gave her salty instead of sweet, and you were picking kernels out of your hair for the rest of your six hour shift. It’s worse than when your nasty supervisor ‘forgot’ you were in the bathroom and ended up locking you inside the cinema overnight, because you didn’t have your own set of keys to get out and the people whose numbers you remembered weren’t answering their phones. 
It’s somehow even worse than when a summer crush from a few years ago broke things off by telling you that he already had a girlfriend back home and that you were basically just a means to pass the time and get his dick wet. God, and you thought that was the lowest you could possibly be.
Here you are, though, so far beyond all those things it would be comical, if it didn’t hurt. Chan has really done a number on you, and you’re not sure how you ended up getting so emotionally involved in your situationship with him that this is what you’ve been reduced to. For days now, you’ve been swallowing back tears of frustration (both with yourself and with Chan), rolling around in your bed night on night, unable to get to sleep because all you can think about is him.
Him, and the way he sounded genuinely horrified when his friends asked about the ‘movie girl’, and he laughed, ‘God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen’. It was impressive, how quickly your face fell, in no way aided by the squealing giggles that rang through the house as a very, very drunk girl came running out of the living room and shut herself in the toilet, drowning out a chunk of the conversation you were listening in on. Somehow, it hurt even more when he went on to say ‘besides, there’s… someone else’. 
And when you have managed to drift off after hours of staring at the walls and the ceiling, hearing those words on a loop on your fed up brain? Of course he’s been in your fucking dreams, too.
In your defence, all you were trying to do was use the mirror in the hallway outside the kitchen he and his friends were standing in, readjusting your top to cover the hickey that he had so kindly left on your collarbone just the night before. It wasn’t as though you sought him out to listen in; it was a coincidence. And okay, fine, maybe you should have walked away when the conversation turned to the topic of Chan’s love life. Maybe you should have not crept closer and held your breath to be able to hear them all better. Maybe, even, you should have stayed around long enough to ask what he meant by it then and there instead of hopping in a taxi and going home without saying goodbye to anyone. 
Hindsight really is a beautiful thing.
Never gonna happen. Well, Chan seemed quite happy to ignore the fact that it already had happened. Several times. At least four of those being in the very car currently on the street outside your home. The car he’s used on countless occasions to drive you up to lovers’ lookouts in the dead of night, letting one of his many mixtapes play through the tinny speakers, where he’d kiss you breathless and cradle your face between his palms, as his fingers would delicately explore beneath your clothes, as his broad shoulders would slot between your thighs, as his hips rol–
And maybe you aren’t stupid, but Chan seems determined to prove that he sure as hell is. He came to pick you up from work the day after the party like nothing had happened, and couldn’t figure out why you said you would rather walk home in the rain than get in with him and stormed away without any further explanation. Then, he showed up on your doorstep on the morning of your day off with your favourite coffee and a breakfast bagel, asking if you could talk. He still didn’t realise what he’d done to upset you, so you slammed the door in his face. Finally, just earlier today, he ran after you in the mall, persistent as you’ve ever known him to be, and laid a hand on your shoulder when you didn’t turn around to just the sound of his voice calling your name. 
You pushed him off so hard he almost fell over. 
“Why can’t you just leave me alone?!” You had barked, shrugging your shoulders to try and realign your jacket. “I don’t want to talk to you. What’s not clicking?”
His face resembled that of a scolded pet when he took a step back and frowned at you. “I just wanted to–”
“I don’t care what you want, Chan,” you spat. “Give it up. I’m done.”
You could see the desperation swimming in his eyes as he scrambled for what to say and your heart felt like it was being weighed down all the way into your stomach. You supposed that was the part of you that was causing all this ache in the first place, and further that it was to blame for your current state of misery. But you steeled yourself and stood your ground nonetheless. He wasn’t going to win you over with puppy eyes and a pout. Not this time.
In his silence, you only then noticed how hard your breaths were coming, each slow and long but still dangerously unsteady. You lowered your voice, top lip curling at him as you muttered, “You’re embarrassed of me enough to lie to your friends? Fine. I don’t give a–… but shit, next time, tell a girl that to her face instead of behind her fucking back.”
It’s been seven hours, and you keep replaying the last thing he said to you as you stormed away (how his voice got quieter when he realised you weren’t turning back; how he sounded so hoarse, so sorry). 
‘I’m sorry if I hurt you - I— I never meant to.’
If. If. If. Were you not making it completely fucking obvious that he had, most definitely, hurt you? Part of your brain is even now starting to go down the route that he’s doing this on purpose, that it’s some twisted sort of damage control, that he hopes maybe if he plays dumb for long enough, you’ll forget what you were mad about or maybe start to second guess what you heard. But if that’s what he thinks, he obviously doesn’t know you very well at all. That’s never going to happen. 
Hell, for someone you were being so careful to keep in the appropriate lane in your head, Chan really has you thinking yourself in circles. You’re sick to your back teeth of him, and his stupid voice and his stupid smile and his stupid –
Clink.
Stupid. Fucking. Stones.
A groan loud enough to definitely catch the attention of your roommate sounds from deep within your chest at this interruption to your spiral and you finally, finally concede. Whatever argument he’s so clearly longing to have at 11 o’clock on a Thursday night? Fine. He can have it. If it means he backs off for good, you’ll give him his one last ruck.
You pull the window open none too gently and lean enough through it that Chan comes into view. He isn’t even looking up, you realise, too busy sifting through the driveway trying to find his next little projectile, and you hiss his name to get his attention. It startles him so much that he drops the indiscernible bundle in his right hand. He blindly scrambles to pick it up, those big, earnest eyes gazing at you as if you’re floating in midair before him.
“What the hell are you doing?!” You ask him, trying not to raise your voice too loud but at the same time, needing to generate enough volume for him to hear. He holds the bundle in both hands, now, and they catch the light of the lamp by your front door. Flowers, you register, squinting to try and make them out, your brows furrowing so much that your forehead hurts. 
Black dahlias.
You choke back a laugh. Ah, the joys of fooling around with the son of a florist. Are they all so damn dramatic? (Or does he just know that they’re your favourites?)
Whichever it is, you tell yourself that’s not going to work. You won’t let it. Through gritted teeth, you say, “go away. I’m serious. I’ll call the cops on you.”
He shakes his head, begging as he steps just a little closer so his face is more visible in the amber light too. “Please–” he hurries, biting his bottom lip. “Please, don’t– just… tell me what I did. I want to make it right. Please.”
He never begs like this. In all the time you’ve known him, you swear Chan has said ‘please’ to you fewer times than you could count on your fingers. Which is by no means a bad thing — that’s just always been the very comfortable nature of your friendship, and later, the -with-benefits tag that you ended up sticking on the end. 
“Why are you doing this?” You ask, pinching the bridge of your nose and fighting not to shiver in the cold nighttime air. Note to self: don’t do a Romeo and Juliet in the middle of the fucking winter without layering up, first. “What does it even matter?”
“What do you mean, what does it matter?” He asks, looking down at the bunch of flowers in his hands, then back at you. “I-... you know I’d never hurt you. Not on purpose. Please, just… if I did something–”
“There’s someone else,” you echo, fed up with his pretending. He’s a fair actor, you’ll give him that – he might even have been able to convince you, if you hadn’t already heard the other half of this tale he’s doing his best to spin in his favour. 
His face screws up, thinking he’s misheard. It’s his turn not to understand now. If you’re telling him you’ve met someone else, he’s got questions, because you’d promised to be open and honest with each other if that ever happened, so that you could call things off and go back to being just friends without it becoming a big deal. That was always supposed to be a calm conversation, not… whatever this is. You talked about it, right at the start. But… those are the words you’re saying, aren’t they? And why would you be mad at him if you were the one whose circumstances had changed? 
“What?” he asks, finally. “What do you mean?”
“God, no – we’re just friends. That’s never gonna happen. Besides, there’s… someone else!” You raise your voice without really meaning to, before swallowing hard and glancing back inside your room. “You said that, Chan. Don’t piss me off by coming here and pretending like you didn’t.”
Chan starts to look like he’s trying to figure out an algebraic equation in his head while only having half the required information; his eyes fall down to the gravel, his lips move without any sound coming out of them, his features tighten until there are definite lines between his eyebrows. Then, it clicks. The lightbulb moment. He slaps one hand to his face and shakes his head furiously, and you just know he’s going to wake up with an ache in his neck tomorrow because of it.
“Oh fuck,” he curses. “No, no, no, no, no – that’s not–”
“What did I just say?” You spit down at him. “Don’t piss me off–”
“Listen!” He shouts, and you gesture with your hand for him to lower his voice, interrupting his flow of thought and rendering him silent for a moment. “Fuck, please. Come down here and talk to me. That’s not what you think it is.”
You’re in every mind to slam your window shut and leave him out there in the cold. It would work if you got out your headphones to drown out the sounds of him trying to get your attention, which you have absolutely no doubt in your mind that he would do. And maybe then he’d get the hint; maybe then he would understand that you’re not just some pushover who he can just pick up and play with when it suits him. 
But he’s still holding those fucking flowers like they’re a lifeline, still looking up at you without a single lick of anger on his face. Not stress at having been discovered, which you would have expected him to be swimming in right about now. He looks… kind of beside himself, as if nothing could possibly be worse than what you’re threatening to do.
All this, for you? It just doesn’t make sense. 
“Please,” he says again, quieter, weaker. For the first time, you pick up on the hint of a shiver in his voice, and you swallow. Whether you’re gulping back your pride, or your resolve, or the last remnants of your sensibility, you don’t know. 
Does he deserve for you to hear him out? You’re not sure.
But does he deserve to be stuck out in the cold in just his stupid leather jacket and a pair of jeans? 
With regret, you think, no. He doesn’t.
All you give him is a scowl before you disappear from view entirely, pulling the window closed and drawing your curtains again. Faster than you think you ever have before, you throw on a sweatshirt over your pyjamas, grab your keys, and hurry down the stairs as silently as you possibly can. 
He’s stood in exactly the same place when you edge outside and pull the door closed behind you. Up-close, you can see the tiredness on his face: this is a man who has exhausted himself in worry, you think, and yet he still smiles a little when he sees you in full. He still holds the flowers out for you to take. He still purses his lips and blows out a stuttered cloud of air. Nervous, and not in the way you think he ought to be. So when you walk straight past him and don’t take the dahlias out of his hands, instead standing by his car and waiting for him to unlock it for you, you start to feel overwhelmingly guilty. 
Chan is many, many… many things. But he really isn’t this good of a performer, no matter what you’ve been telling yourself all week. For God’s sake, why is it so much easier to be angry at him when he’s not standing right in front you?
You slip into his passenger side as he fumbles to set the flowers down on his backseat again, and he joins you up front just a few moments later. His hands are shaking when he sets the keys into the ignition. His whole body is. When you cast a real look over at him, the tips of his fingers are pale and his lips are lacking their usual rosy, pink hue. Your own teeth are chattering despite only having been truly exposed to the cold air for a matter of seconds; you dread to think how frozen he must be.
“Are we driving?” You ask to break the silence. Since he got into the car and fiddled with the heating settings to try and warm things up a little, he hasn’t said a word. It’s awkward. It’s horrible. You already miss the comfortable way you’ve been able to sit for hours together, barely talking, just watching the lights of the city and the cars travelling through it. 
You already miss him. Which is a strange thought, seeing as he’s only about ten inches away. 
“If– if you want,” he says, stuttering through the frost in his lungs. “We can go—...”
“Drive, Chan,” you say. It’s not just because you want him to stop falling over his words – which, to be fair, you do. Chan has always been very confident, carrying himself with the air of someone who knows exactly their worth. It’s one of the things you treasure about him. So this? Is fucking weird. But a big part of it is that you know his car will heat up faster if it’s in motion, and right now, you think maybe he’s at risk of losing a finger or two if he doesn’t get some circulation back.
He steps on the gas and the car pulls away from your home. It’s the first time you’ve ever been in his car without there being some sort of music playing, whether that’s historically just been the radio or a tape he put together with the help of one of his older friends. (The tapes that always had your first initial on them. The tapes that he never failed to ask your opinions on when he dropped you home – as if he’d compiled them with only you in mind.) The silence feels jarring and you can hear every rumble of the engine, every squeal of the brakes he definitely needs to get serviced. 
But the car does warm through, and you sigh out relief as the bones in your hands move a little easier, as your fingers curl and uncurl to less resistance from your taut muscles. Chan feels it, too; his body relaxes, his breaths stop coming out in fractions, his face gets some colour back. The timing feels a little less awful when you finally say, “go on, then.”
Chan glances over at you as he drives down an unlit street. Only for a second, like he’s checking you’re still there, before his eyes train back on the road. He’s going to one of your favourite spots. It isn’t a lookout – it’s somewhere completely shut off from the rest of town, hidden by the trees near the railway tracks, somewhere you’ve never had to worry about being seen or heard. Maybe he’s anticipating a screaming match. Maybe he’s expecting something else. Maybe, even, he just cares about how much you love it there. 
“I didn’t know you heard that conversation,” he starts, sheepishly. You want to roll your eyes, reach over and thump him, ask if that makes what he said okay, but you don’t. You stay looking out the front windscreen too. Waiting. “I… all right. I was out of my ass drunk.”
You click your tongue, pressing it afterwards against the inside of your cheek, but again, you stay quiet.
“I don’t think you heard what you thought you heard, though,” he goes on to say. “‘Cause– ‘cause it wasn’t…”
But you can only be quiet for so long in the face of this mess. Especially when he’s apparently working towards a doctorate in beating around the fucking bush. “I heard you tell your friends that it was never gonna happen with ‘movie girl’.”
Chan’s face brightens, and you can’t help but wonder what on Earth is wrong with this man. Why does he find that funny? Why is his chest moving like he’s trying not to laugh?
“And you… thought you were movie girl,” he says, nodding. “Okay. Okay – shit. I’m sorry.”
You look at him properly, now, as he indicates to the right and takes the turn that leads him down the lane to your spot. “What are you talking about?”
“I get it,” he says. “You work at the–... but you’re not movie girl. Not that movie girl.”
“Stop talking in riddles before I get out of this car, Chan. It’s too late for this shit.”
He holds a hand up as if to apologise and settles back against the head cushion, suddenly looking far more comfortable than he did thirty seconds ago. He clears his throat, running his tongue over his lips, before sucking in a breath and letting himself go on.
“You’re not movie girl,” he says again, successfully clarifying nothing. “There’s this chick I used to dance with — years back, before… God, when we were in school, like, forever ago. She moved away when we were sixteen.” As he talks, he reaches your destination and sets the car into park, before he unfastens his seatbelt and turns to face you. You do the same, shifting your weight to tuck one leg up beneath you, and with your undivided attention, he goes on. “I ran into her recently. She’s back in town now, I guess. It was like, two weeks—?”
“I’m gonna be all-over grey by the time you finish telling this story,” you interrupt, raising an eyebrow. “Can you please give me the short version?”
“Not if you want it to make sense,” Chan shrugs. Begrudgingly, you let him keep talking. “She said it would be cool to hang out, maybe catch a movie or do lunch or something — and look, I didn’t know she was asking me on a date, I thought she was just being nice, y’know? Trying to be friends, but… you weren’t working that day, it was when you had that… that stomach thing going on? And I brought you the soup my mom made, remember?”
You nod; of course you remember. At the time, you wondered why on Earth this grown man’s mother was making you food — you asked yourself whether he’d told her about you, or if she thought it was for someone else. In the end you decided he must have just been bringing you leftovers. But you’d been too worn out to start asking questions; instead, after you’d eaten, you let yourself fall asleep with your head in his lap as he patted your hair and hummed his favourite songs. You hadn’t let yourself think too deeply about it since. 
“Anyway. We were sat watching the movie and she, uh,” he glances down at his lap, tips of his ears burning pink. “She put her hand, sorta, on my thigh? And then I was like, shit, I didn’t read this right, like… at all. So I moved it off and she took the hint — and after it ended I said to her, you know, I was flattered, right? But I wasn’t interested. And then I went home and got that soup and—… yeah.”
He came straight to see you. To look after you. Hell, you didn’t even fool around that night; in retrospect, it was all uncharacteristically domestic. And slowly, the pieces you’ve spent days struggling to fit together start to fall into place. It makes sense. The only question that remains is do you believe him?
Well, tell a lie. 
There is one more. 
“You said there was someone else,” you add quietly. 
You’ll die before you admit it, but this is secretly the part that was hurting you the most. 
You can’t even look him in the eye, right now; your cheeks are burning with the embarrassment of even caring. As much as you want to tell yourself that the only reason you’re pissed is just because of the dishonesty, you can only stare at yourself in the mirror and point-blank lie so many times. Someone else. You hate it. 
Just the thought of him seeing somebody else, taking them out on dates, smiling at them, laughing with them, kissing them the way he kisses you, touching —
A shiver runs the length of you and you cross your arms, thrusting your sleeve-covered hands under your armpits. 
Chan takes a deep breath in and exhales it slowly, like he’s blowing smoke out of his lungs. “There is,” he admits, nodding slowly, avoiding your eyes, too. “There is someone else.”
“When were you going to tell me?” You ask. 
Chan doesn’t respond straight away. You don’t notice, but eventually his eyes do land back at you; it’s only when he clears his throat to get your attention that you look at him long enough to realise he’s quite deliberately staring. His lips are lifted on the right in a lopsided smile, his eyes soft as he reaches across the seats towards you. You stare blankly down at his hand until he wiggles his fingers, and you think briefly that this is the most fucked up ending to a situationship you’ve ever been through. 
You drop one of your hands down and let him hold it, though, staring at his face as his thumb brushes over your knuckles and you wait for him to finally say it out loud. For him to announce that he’s fallen for somebody and that he can’t see you anymore. To put the nail in the coffin. Don’t tell me their name, you think. I don’t want to know anything about them. Please, just don’t.
“For someone so frustratingly smart, you’re really fucking dumb,” Chan says, finally, swallowing around his words and squeezing your fingers. Whatever stoic expression you had forced onto your face at the start of this conversation dissolves into irritation and you snatch your hand away from him again, letting his own fall and collide with a thunk against the handbrake. 
“Oh, sorry that I didn’t realise you were sneaking around behind my back when that’s the one thing we promised we wouldn’t do,” you snap. “God. The only stupid thing I’ve done here is get involved with you in the f—”
“You’re the someone else.”
Oh. 
Oh.
“I’m—?”
“You.”
The admission hangs heavily between you, as does your nonsense, unfinished insult. Neither of you really know what to do with yourselves except sit perfectly still and try to somehow deal with your increasingly dry throats. When Chan moves, it’s only to turn down the heating dial when his cheeks burn a bit too hot; you appreciate it, in part due to the bead of sweat currently running down your back, but you don’t say so. 
“You could have started with that,” you say weakly, wrestling with all your strength to keep even some of your cards close to your chest. It’s not working though. Your attempt to conceal your elation is a bit like throwing a single leaf on top of a bison and calling it camouflage. 
Chan commits to laughing, finally, your sentiment breaking him too. Now, you do crack that smile, albeit mostly just at the sound that comes from him. It’s bright and airy, lighting his whole face up as he drops all the way back and leans against his car door, pushing his fingers through his hair. “I was trying to build to a moment! It’s not my fault you hit every branch of the anti-romantic tree on your way down.”
“I am not anti-romantic,” you scoff in protest. 
“Yes — you are.”
“Am not!”
“Are too.”
“No, you’re just an idiot.”
“Says she who didn’t realise her fuck-buddy had feelings for about six months, Jesus.”
“Chan—” You start, your voice laced with a playful warning. 
“Here I was thinking I was making it completely obvious,” he rambles on. 
“— oh my God, just shut up and kiss me.”
“Dropping hints left and r—” … “Huh?”
He stops short a fraction of a second after you finish, stumped and silent, frozen with everything but a little buffering symbol above his forehead. Kiss me, you said. Chan, […] just shut up and kiss me. All right, you’ve asked him to do that before, but not like this. Not as if you’ll wither away should you not get a taste of his lips this instant. It takes him some time to process it, but he does move in first, eventually. The way he always does, closing the distance between you like he’s been shot out of a cannon, one hand either side of your face, crashing feverishly against your mouth. 
Every now and again, he’ll be happy to let you take charge and set the pace: mostly just if he’s feeling lazy or especially generous. Tonight isn’t one of those times, however. He holds you and kisses you possessively, like you’re his, like this is how he finally gets to lay claim on you, licking between your gasp-parted lips after he moans straight into your mouth. He’s spearmint sweet, edged with that one cherry flavoured chapstick he stockpiles as he grins up against you, rolling his body fluidly with every separation for air, every changing angle. 
He pulls your sweatshirt up over your head and throws it down into the footwell on the passenger side, straight away hurrying to kiss you hungrily again, hands cupping your neck. His tongue is in your mouth once more, there’s no way you could possibly differentiate your breaths from his: you’re one, in every way you can be with your clothes still on, but it’s not enough. 
“Want you,” you whimper as he nips at your bottom lip and pleasure rushes through you from head to toe. 
“You’ve got me,” he groans with his eyes still closed. “I’m all yours.” 
“No,” you insist, whimpering when his cute little nose drags across your cheek until he’s pressing hot kisses to your jawline. “I— fuck—”  He suckles on the sweet spot below your ear and your spine tingles, head tilting to give him better access. “Chan, I want you.”
Chan settles back from you, his usually bright, sparkling eyes now darkened with desire. All he gives you is a singular glance sideways, but you know exactly what he’s suggesting. You nod, breathing deep, biting the inside of your cheek; he turns off the headlights and it’s all systems go. 
There’s a rush to scramble into the back of the car. Chan takes the keys out the ignition and climbs through the gap in the seats; you opt for the less hazardous approach of getting out of the vehicle entirely and re-entering it instead. Not that it bothers him — no sooner is the door closed behind you, Chan’s hands are on your hips and he pulls you on top of him, your leg knocking the dahlias off the leather and onto the floor in the process. You gasp and glance down but he averts your attention with two fingers under your chin, guiding you to look back at him. 
“What? You think this is the last time I’ll bring you flowers?” He asks, capturing your lips as he leans up to you; at the same time, his hands drop low and he starts to slide open the buttons down the front of your pyjama shirt. “Baby, m’gonna get you so many more.” 
You sigh at the affectionate name, at the change in its use; until now, Chan has only called you baby while he’s buried inside you, bruising you inside and out with sharp thrusts and rough-gripping fingers. But as much as you can feel him growing hard against the inside of your thigh while you try to get comfortable, one knee planted either side of his hips, you can’t help but feel as if this time, it means something different. 
(He’s had feelings for six months: it always meant what it does, now. You know that, deep down.)
Somewhere in amongst the never-ending sloppy kisses and constantly travelling hands, you manage to strip both his jacket and T-shirt off him and you’re pressed bare-chest-to-bare-chest with Chan, feeling every little hitch of his breath in his lungs, every thump of his heartbeat, every tiny increase in the temperature of his skin. Your desperate search for friction between your legs has you rolling your hips down against his hard-on, drawing grunts and making him squeeze at your tits when you rock against him the right way. His head eventually drops to your chest and he replaces one hand with his mouth, freeing his fingers to slide down the front of your pyjama bottoms. 
It’s honestly rarer for Chan to get straight to the point than it is for him to tease you a little first, so when he flattens his palm against you and brushes his fingertips over your already aching clit, you let out a squeak of surprise. He shivers, releasing your nipple from between his teeth for a moment; once he’s collected a little more arousal to ease the friction, he continues to rub at the bud, slowly building the pressure inside you.
“No panties?” He asks, struggle clear in the roughness of his voice. 
“I was in bed,” you gasp, eyes rolling back. It’s for the best that it happens out of pleasure, really, because you’re not sure you’d be able to stop yourself rolling them in exasperation at his remark otherwise. You shuffle a little, lifting yourself up on your knees more, breath hitching when he uses the newly granted space to dip his hand lower and press a finger against your hole. “Please, Chan — this can’t be comfy— just…”
“S’fine” he argues, shaking his head, despite the fact that the angle of his wrist is actually kind of painful, right now. The truth is that he can’t bring himself to care: not when he can smell your fabric softener on the shirt still hanging off your shoulders, the shampoo in your freshly washed hair, all so pretty mixed with the damp scent of your desire. Not when you clench around him as he slides his finger in and out of your cunt. Not when he could get you to soak all the way through these pretty satin pants. 
Your arms snake around his neck as he dips a second finger inside you to join the first. The way your thighs tighten around his hips could — should — be embarrassing, the fact his sturdy lap holds you open enough for your pussy to be toyed with even more so. You almost always do this too music, too — for what might be the first time ever, you can hear every single wet sound your body makes, every hitch of your own breath, every grunt he gives even though he’s not the one being pleasured. 
You don’t even realise how you’re rocking up and down against his hand until Chan licks from the base of your neck to your jaw, smirking over your pulse point and says, “gonna ride my cock this good too, baby?”
And if it was anyone else talking to you like this, you would be embarrassed. Mortified, at being so needy you’re here doing all the work for him. At the cry you give as he splits and scissors his fingers to stretch you out. But instead? You feel another rush of arousal drool out of you as you press your nails into his shoulders and nod, bouncing harder and watching how his bicep tenses up solid with the effort of keeping his arm steady for you to use. 
“Wanna,” you gasp. “Want it so bad, Chan—”
Despite your pleas for this to move further, when his hand pulls back out of the elastic of your waistband, you feel like you could throttle him. The urge ebbs away when his soaked fingers press to your lips and he quirks an eyebrow at you, though — you end up suckling them clean, licking up every trace of your own slick. You lock eyes with him as you do, slumping on your thighs so your drenched core sits right over his tweaking length, the seam of your pants giving just enough friction to your clit for it to feel good as you grind down on him again. 
“Get those off,” he instructs, trying to sound hard and dominant. Which would work, perhaps, if his voice didn’t crack in the middle of the sentence. “Now.”
Even though you’re overcome with a need to tease him, the desire you have to be split open on his length outweighs it, so you do as you’re told and hold it in for later. It’s not easy, but you manage to manipulate yourself in his lap to work the satin down your thighs and past your knees. He helps you tug them the rest of the way past your ankles and feet, shoves them onto the floor — Chan’s hands settle back on your hips and yours skim down his stomach at the same time, fingers grazing over the little hairs that trail from his bellybutton down into his jeans. 
“Can I?” You ask, playing already with his belt buckle. 
He hums assent and you slip it all the way open, tugging as he moves his hips underneath you so you can pull it free from the loops. Between you, you manage to get his jeans unfastened, to pull both them and his boxer shorts down over his ass and to his knees; finally, fucking finally, his cock sits pretty and leaking and free between your stomach and his. It’s getting cold in the car now the heating isn’t on, but you’re already burning up in anticipation for him to ruin you; the way his abs ripple as he takes his shaft into his hand and strokes himself a couple of times to prepare tells you he’s in the same boat. 
It’s like clockwork, from here. You shift into position as easily as you settle into bed after a long day. Chan rubs his tip through your folds, feels the warmth of you and hisses through his teeth with fluttering eyes. Just like always. This never changes. He can’t ever get enough of that first feeling of his cock against your pussy: it’s like the first hit of a blunt, like the first sip of a cold beer, the first full-body stretch early in the morning. He’s sure it’s what arriving at the gates of heaven must feel like. 
You sink down onto him slowly, fluttering around his tip and stilling to give you both a moment to get used to the feeling. He’s thick inside you. Thicker than his pretty, dainty fingers have ever been able to stretch you enough for. Even as wet as you are, you still need to suck a deep breath into your lungs before you can relax your hips further and let your heat swallow him all the way to his base. 
Chan’s head is tipped back in pleasure, he’s biting his lip at the sting of your nails pressing hard into the back of his neck. He loves it, though — loves how the pain shoots in waves down his spine, how it tingles in his brain, how he knows you need to anchor yourself this way or you’ll lose control. He kneads at your ass as you sit against his thighs, listening to you whimpering at how deep he is inside you.
“So fucking tight around me still,” Chan groans, focusing all his willpower into keeping his hips down on the leather beneath him. “Shit, baby — you feel so good…” His neck softens and his head drops forward again as you start to move, rising and falling over and over. He kisses your throat and down to your collarbones while you work up to a rhythm, sliding his palms up your back, hugging you close to him. 
He isn’t even the one putting in the hard work, but within minutes of this, his soft, fluffy hair clings to his forehead. A light sheen of sweat makes him radiant under the moonlight breaking through the trees. He’s breathing heavily, the top of his toned chest painted a soft pink — you don’t think he could possibly look prettier. Not until he cups your jaw with his hands and you look upwards: you land on his smiling face, those plush, swollen lips, his devilish but sweetly glittering eyes. The sight of him, looking at you like you’re some kind of Goddess, makes your pussy tighten and your tiring hips stutter. You slip your pyjama top all the way off your arms and curl your fingers into his hair, meeting him in an open-mouthed kiss, through which you’re both just beaming. 
You’ve never kissed him this much. When it all started out, you sort of had a rule against it, but now? Neither of you can stop. As he starts to fuck up into you, taking the reins and letting your burning thighs rest, he keeps your face steady with his hands and freely allows his lips to slide against yours. It’s not refined. It can’t be. Not with how hard and fast his movements quickly become, not with the onslaught of curses and moans and babbled praise coming from the both of you. One particularly sharp thrust makes you yelp out a squeak of his name and he just swallows it down, making a point to keep aiming for— and hitting— that same spot inside you. You’re a mess. 
He could do this all night. When your orgasm bubbles inside you and he starts pinching at one of your nipples, sending you over the edge, he’s nowhere near finished. Even though your cunt massages at his length, throbbing and pulsing through your climax; even though your voice is so high by now that only dogs can hear you; even though you nearly collapse on top of him with almost all your weight in his lap, and he has to work twice as hard to keep this going, he barely slows. He definitely doesn’t stop. 
“You can gimme one more, right sweetheart?” He asks, grunting into your neck. “Always feels so fucking good when you come.” You choke up an ‘mhm’, to which he responds by slipping a hand between your bodies and down to where you’re connected. His thumb presses against your clit again — not moving, just applying enough pressure to make you stutter when you say his name. 
Your thighs are still twitching when you try to lift yourself a little, try to meet his movements as he chases his orgasm too. The “problem” with Chan is that his stamina is otherworldly. You couldn’t keep up if you wanted to. 
“Relax,” he says, tensing his jaw, doing the opposite himself. “Fuck — lie down.”
It’s pretty cramped and hard to move, but you lift yourself off him and only slightly lament at the sudden emptiness between your legs. There isn’t time to get too upset, however: moments after you get comfortable on your back, Chan shoves his jeans the rest of the way down and stands with one knee planted on the seats, lifting one of your ankles up to rest it on his shoulder. He slips back inside you easily then, gripping around your calf to keep you both steady. From the word go, his pace is relentless. You scrabble around for something to hold onto but the entire car seems to melt away; you ball your hands into fists at your sides instead, your eyes squeezed tightly shut. 
“Mm-mm. Look at me,” Chan hums, tightening his grip on your leg. “Wanna see those pretty eyes.” 
You obey, opening your lids to look up at him while he pounds into you hard enough to make the car shake. Over, and over, and over, and over. Rougher. Faster. For how long? Who even knows. All you’re truly aware of is how good it feels. How the windows grow foggy with the  steam of your laboured breaths. How his sweat mingles with your own. 
When his fingers on the other hand get reacquainted with your clit, when he bites down on his bottom lip, when his thrusts start to get messier and more erratic and the veins in his arms start to bulge out, you know he’s getting close. He doesn’t need to tell you out loud. The smirk he wears speaks for itself. 
“Where d’you want it, baby?” He asks you, pressing a kiss to the inside of your ankle. 
“In— mmh, in-…side me—” you stammer, hips jolting as you near your second orgasm to match his first. “Please, Chan — want it all…”
“Yeah?” 
“Yeah—”
Well, he must’ve been holding himself back something spectacular, because a few thrusts later you watch all of his muscles contract as he tips over the edge, and you go hurtling with him. It’s all so much. All your nerve endings feel like they’re on fire and your vision starts to blur at the edges; it’s not long before you have to close your eyes to shut one of your overworked senses out, completely. Your muscles are sore. Your throat hurts. Even your lungs ache. 
God, he hasn’t gone that hard in so long, you don’t know what to do with yourself. You can barely speak — it’s going to take you a week to recover from this, minimum. 
He stills deep inside you, feeling his cock throb with the last pumps of his release. Your leg slips off his shoulder and your foot lands down with a thud onto the car’s (thankfully clean) floor; he bends forward to kiss you, still breathing heavily against your lips. You’ve come over completely boneless and reaching up to thread your fingers into his hair again feels like running a marathon at sprint pace. You’d fall asleep right here, right now, if you could, but with sweat cooling rapidly against your skin, you know that’s probably not up there as one of your finest ideas. 
“You really think getting involved with me was stupid?” Chan asks, nudging your nose with the tip of his own. He’s never been less serious than this in his entire life, which stops you feeling too bad when you lightly slap at his rock solid chest and try to push him off you.
“Yes,” you lie, attempting to reach to the ground for your pyjama shirt while he grips your chin and attacks you with tiny little pecks all over your face. “Stupidest thing I’ve ever done.”
(Chan chuckles to himself and thinks that he’s quite happy to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, really. He can stay that way, as long as you promise never to stop.)
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thank you so much for reading. i hope you enjoyed it - likes, feedback, comments, reblogs are all so appreciated.<3
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Text
It's not so bad? | EM
Pairing: Eddie munson x reader
Summary: You and Eddie have your first very big fight.
Warnings: angst, mention of sex but nothing happens. Slight hurt/comfort towards the end. Mean!Eddie, Eddie calls the reader a bitch and it's alluded that he says worse things, but it's not described. Toxic relationship.
Word count: 1.1k
A/n: probably a little shorter than I wanted. I haven't written anything in over a month, so I'm trying to get back into it again. Divider made by me.
Not proofread 18+ no minors
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The trailer was quiet now except for the low hum of Eddie's a/c in the window. You were curled up on his side with your head on his chest. He was fast asleep now, but you couldn't.
Not after what transpired just a few hours ago. Your eyes still burned, and your heart still ached a little. You both said your sorrys, but there was something still lingering inside of you. Even though he was the main one apologizing since you truly did nothing wrong.
The way he screamed at you and got in your face. You never said a word back. You just let him unleash what he had pent up inside him. You tried to walk away, but he just followed you. Spewing hurtful things again and again.
You kept telling yourself it was the alcohol mixed with anger that made him this way. Even though in the back of your mind, it felt like he had been waiting for this opportunity to tell you how he really felt.
The moment his voice kept raising octave after octave and his face flushed red with anger. You knew there was no point in fighting back, so you just took it. Hoping he'd give up and leave you alone. You guys have fought before, but it was nothing like this. You've never been scared of him.
Until he backed you up into a corner and just laid into you. You shrunk down desperately, trying to make yourself as small as possible. The smell of various types of alcohol on his breath filled your nose.
He called you all sorts of names "bitch", "dumb" and various other hurtful insults. He grabbed you roughly by the arm to stop you from leaving and so you were forced to listen to him berate you. Any moment now, you were waiting for the cops to show up. You were sure the neighbors could hear him and would call them.
You didn't know accepting a free drink from a guy at the bar Eddie was performing in would set him off. Apparently, the guy is a long-time rival of his. Someone Eddie seriously hates, and Eddie doesn't usually hate anyone. He dislikes people, yes, but he doesn't hate them.
You noticed something was up when we marched over to you and downed the drink himself. You didn't get a chance to take a small sip of it. He barely even looked your way when he did it. Then the next thing you remember is being pulled to the van, and that's when the shouting started. Each word that came from his mouth was laced with so much venom.
"You're really fucking dumb you know that."
"You're such a bitch I don't even know why I give you the time of day."
"You're lucky someone like me even looked twice at someone like you."
Those lines still rang in your head even now as you're curled up next to him. He did eventually calm down. You guessed once the last bit of alcohol wore off, and he sobered up. Maybe when his voice became horse and he couldn't scream anymore is when he decided to stop.
The moment he was done, his face immediately softened. He wasn't mad anymore, but you were still upset. You still wondered if his voice didn't give out, would he still be yelling at you right now. He tried to pull you to him at first but you resisted.
He shushed you as he rubbed your back, and you eventually caved and melted into his arms. You cried in his chest as he hugged you to him tighter. When you noticed, his body was lightly shaking. You pulled back to see tears streaming down his face.
His voice croaked. "I'm so sorry, baby."
"You know I didn't mean any of that stuff," i said, right?" His voice is soft, and his touch is gentle.
You gave a weak smile "yeah I know you didn't it's okay."
You both stood there in the hallway by his room in eachothers arms for what felt like hours. Neither one of you said a word too tired to even talk it out yet.
You just wanted to sleep, and you wanted to be okay. He always made everything okay, and now it's feels different. You feel embarrassed, and you feel as though something is still lingering in the air.
Like there is more to say, but you're too afraid to ask. Eventually, you both somehow make it to bed. Your mind is groggy, and your anxiety is still high. You can't even remember getting undressed and into bed with him.
You tossed and turned all night long while Eddie was fast asleep. His arm draped around you, keeping you locked in close to him. You remember him wanting to have sex but you rejected him opting to just cuddle instead.
Eddie was fine with that. He seemed a little hurt, but he's never pressured you to do something you didn't want to. You felt guilty for rejecting him. There was just something there that stopped you. This lingering presence that you can't even describe.
You were hoping it would be gone by morning, but you're still sensing it. Maybe it was the lack of communication you were so used to having with him. Maybe it was the mean things he said that somehow confirmed your insecurities. Eddie told you he didn't mean them, but you just couldn't shake that,"What if?"
Now you're just laying here on his chest, counting his heartbeats. The feeling of sadness still consuming you. You want him to wake up and have everything back to normal again. You also don't want him to wake up because you're too embarrassed to face him.
Eddie stirs a bit in his sleep, but he doesn't move away from you. Instead, he manages to pull you closer to him. You can feel him squeeze your hip and give it a light little tap. His eyes slowly open as you pretend to still be sleeping.
You heard him groan a bit and cough, probably from the pain in his throat now. He stretches out, and you can hear the little pops his toes make when he cracks them.
You notice tell he's trying his best not to disturb your sleep. Each movement he makes is thought out and careful as he does it. He's trying his best not to startle you awake. He feels bad about how he treated you earlier tonight, but he's not as remorseful as you think. He loves you so much and didn't ever want to hurt you like this. But he couldn't control his temper with you any longer. The alcohol in his system didn't help either.
Does he regret how he went about it? Yes. Did he feel like this fight was a long time coming? He sure did. Next time, he might try to go about it differently if he ever caught you doing something like that again. He knows he can't control his emotions well, and sadly, this time, you were on the receiving end of his anger.
"I love you so much." Eddie spoke in a very raspy horse whipser. He kissed your temple and very slowly got out of bed. He didn't want to wake you at all.
That little moment is enough reassurance you needed. He does still love you. He didn't mean what he said to you last night. You hear the shower turn on and his muffled voice humming through the thin walls. Slowly but surely, everything felt normal again. Even if you haven't spoken yet.
That uneasy feeling you had before was gone immediately. Well, that's what you're trying to convince yourself anyway. His cracked voice singing from the bathroom as he showers calms your mind. Eventually, sleep finally takes over you, and you know everything is going to be okay.
But maybe not.
The shower turning off grabs your attention. You could hear him slowly creeping back into the bedroom, trying not to wake you up. You're in and out one minute you're calm the next you're not. You think you're fine but are you really? Eddie got right back into bed and pulled you in close again. His arm holding you tight against his chest.
He leans forward, pressing yet another kiss to your temple before whispering, "Stop being sad, sweetheart. You love me, and I love you more."
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Selfless hero gets kidnapped and tortured, and the first thought that comes to their mind is “is this punishment for all the things I’ve done..?” even though the worst thing they’ve ever done was something along the lines of beating up a villain for slaughtering dozens of civilians
Then enter their villain love interest who rescues them and showers them with comfort and warmth and hero doesn’t know what to do or how to react since they’ve always been the one to care for others, not being the one being CARED OF by others 💔 (also bc it’s supposed to be their nemesis, so they’re like “why tf are they saving me rn”)
You reap what you sow.
The hero stared at their broken fingers through their blurred vision. Their hands were shaking. Their throat hurt. The rain was cold and uncomfortable as it seeped through their torn clothes.
For the first time, they felt like a child again, getting bullied and beaten up at school. All of it had been so quick. They'd been kidnapped and tortured. They'd been thrown into an alley. But despite the broken bones and the open wounds, the fear was worse. They had slipped back into that terrified kid who couldn't even raise their hand in school.
They knew they deserved it. They deserved all of this. Violence only answered violence and they had beaten up enough people to be a criminal themselves.
When they saw the headlights, the hero closed their eyes laboriously. Would running over by a car be a painless way to die? They could tell bleeding out wasn't their biggest problem. It was the cold.
The driver's door opened and at first, the hero couldn't even tell that it was the villain who was approaching them.
"Shit..." the villain cursed. They didn't look amused.
Although the hero couldn't believe the villain was here to save them, they prayed in secret that it was true.
When the villain was close enough, they kneeled next to them.
"What happened?" Their eyes had dark circles under them and as the rain soaked through the villain's perfect hair, the hero understood that they truly weren't here to kill them.
The villain's hand found the hero's forearm.
"Talk to me, what happened?"
"I don't know, I really don't-" Suddenly, the hero's throat closed and the tears followed promptly. Their nose was running and anew, they were teleported back in time. So many times, they had blamed themselves for the abuse, they had protected their abusers and now, they could feel themselves do the same thing all over again. "I messed up."
"You went missing for two days," the villain said.
"What!? No, that can't be true. I was gone for a few hours, I swear." The hero felt more pain crawl up their throat. How on earth were they going to explain that to their boss? "Shit, what am I doing?! I have to go home."
They tried to pull themselves up and stand but their ankles had been smashed with a pipe. That they could remember. Embarrassingly, the hero struggled and almost fell to the ground again.
"Alright," the villain said calmly and before the hero could say anything, they picked them up as if the hero didn't weigh anything at all. "That's enough."
At first, the hero wanted to protest. But they didn't have the energy to fight nor did they think it would get them anywhere. The villain was warm and gentle, their hands were soft and their voice was calm. The hero knew this was dangerous. They were walking into a trap, into a comfortable and safe trap.
The villain was probably waiting for the right moment to end them.
However, when the villain put them on the backseat, they weren't sure what to expect. Although it was a big car, it was surely not designed to fit two people on top of each other in the back.
"What are you doing?" the hero asked. They were getting tired. "Why are you helping me?"
"Remember that time you pulled me out of the river?"
"Oh."
"Yeah," the villain said. They took off their coat and put the coat on the hero, attempting to cover them. "Now, let's start over. What happened?"
"I told you, I messed up..."
"I don't believe that. Please, in your own time." They held onto the driver's seat and reached for all the buttons in the front. Suddenly, the car got warmer and the hero grabbed the villain's hand. Their broken fingers didn't want to cooperate but at this point, the hero cared little for the pain. The villain turned again and all of their attention seemed to be on the hero.
"I got kidnapped and then tortured; I thought I was going to die there. I was so scared. I froze and I didn't put up a fight. I couldn't..."
"Okay," the villain said. Their eyes didn't leave the hero's face and the hero almost thought they had said something wrong. "Easy..."
The villain gently rubbed the hero's thigh.
"You're safe now, okay?"
The hero nodded.
"It was bound to happen. You reap what you sow. I am not a good person and I was selfish, I-"
"No," the villain said. "Don't do this to yourself. You didn't do anything wrong."
The hero could feel the tears again. God, they were such a mess today. They couldn't hold back anymore.
"Please," the hero whispered. "What are you doing to me?"
"I'm bringing you home," the villain said. The hero's hand was still around theirs.
"No, what are you doing to me? What are you doing to my brain? Why are you so nice? Why do you care?" At this point, they were exhausted. Exhausted from crying, exhausted from the pain. The hero craved a long hot bath but the villain so close to them came pretty close to that.
"Someone has to, don't you think?" Something in their expression told the hero this wasn't the whole truth. "We have to go now, okay? You seriously need some medical attention."
Their gaze lingered on the hero for a little bit longer before they got into the driver's seat.
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fluffylino · 5 months
Text
boypussy!hyunjin
-contains mature themes
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the boy beneath you squirmed, as you teased him. pushing just the tip of your dick inside him. hyunjin was panting, breathing heavy. his face buried into the pillow at this point. back arched and exposing his most sensitive parts to you. You were worried he wouldn't be able to breath. His cunt clenching around you, trying to suck you in. However you had patience.  Never had you imagined doing this.
It all started when...
"uh i need to tell you something" hyunjin had walked inside after finishing practice. his lips were white and his whole demeanor had changed. almost like he was filled with fear and shock.
he sat down next to you on the couch. you switched off whatever you were watching on the tv to give him your full attention.
"I-I...something h-happened i don't k-know but i don't have a d-dic-" he quickly corrected himself.
"male genetilia" he whispered. You had no clue what he was talking about. Nevertheless you stroked his back, letting him place his head on your lap.
The last thing you remembered saying to him was 'i wish u had a pussy for a few days, i could do the things you do to me for a change'
you gasped.
"Did i make this happen?!" you yelled, making hyunjin jump with a start. he looked confused.
"You'll be back to normal in a couple of days, don't worry darling"
.
a day had passed, and hyunjin seemed to be struggling. you decided to tease him. he sat quietly in his room, scrolling through his phone. you walked in, jumping on him. he giggled when you kissed his neck. slowly making your way up to his lips.
"you're so wet aren't you? i should fuck you till you make a mess of yourself." you mumbled in his ear and smiled when his breath hitched. you slipped your hand under his cute versace tee, to lightly rub his tits.
"stopppp"
his mouth dropped open when you pressed your thigh between his legs. he tried closing his legs.
"ahh but-"
"but what?" you questioned. hyunjin shyly looked at you.
"i have my strap on, baby don't worry. we'll go slow"
you kissed him, and he kissed back desperately. tongue messily moving around. in the mean time you had managed to get his pretty checkered pajama pants off.
"here" he whined, grinding against your thigh. his wetness soaking his underwear. moving the fabric to the side  your carefully traced his folds. he looked cute, eyes wide, and oversized shirt hanging off his shoulder.
"you're dripping baby" you continued to tease him until he caught your hand. you pushed a finger in slowly. his breathing going slow. you added another. knuckle deep in him.
and thats how you ended up in this state.
.
"m' close, hah.." he cried out, thighs shaking and you pulled out for the 5th time in the past hour. the reaction you got was worth it. he groaned into the pillow, shoulders beginning to shake.
A clear indication that he had finally had it. You had finally broke down that wall of his.
"w-why ? i was so g-good" he muttered, voice cracking. tears flowed down his face, mixing with the sweat and drool on his chin.
you were just giving him back what he would do to you. you, of course took it better. it was quite a sight to see your boyfriend sobbing, begging You to rail Him.
"i know baby i know" you soothed him and he preened at the attention you gave him.
"i'll let you cum this time, hm?" you reassured, running your hand down his back.
You spread his puffy lips with your index and middle finger, biting your lip at how much slick was leaking out.
"such a pretty pussy. makes me wanna knock you up. fuck my babies into you. rail you till you're a mess"
he shook his head...or atleast tried to. hyunjin really was loving every moment of it. You slammed back in, now wasting no time.
hyunjin mewled, jerking forward with each thrust. Loud 'ah ah ahs' leaving him. 
Chest to back. you could see his face. struggling to maintain eye contact with you. his eyelids fluttering and his tears distorting his view.
"ah n-no no stop too m-much too muchhh" he wriggled around as your began to play with his clit. eyes rolling back. tongue lawling out.
At one particular hard thrust, he went cross eyed, mouth in an 'o' shape. the sound he let out was beyond pornagraphic. the heat in your abdomen exploding. you could feel the warmth seeping all over your dick. He shivered, his eyes swollen and gaze spaced out.
"aw did my baby cum"
.
pulling him against your side, he sobbed into your neck. thighs pressed together. his cum staining the inside of his soft thighs.
"did so well for me" you praised, leaning over to grab a hairtie from the table beside.
"i-i did?"
"of course you did. made such pretty sounds for me" you tied his hair into a small ponytail. kissing away his tears. he melted into you.
"you're my pretty girl, aren't you?" you weren't expecting him to respond. you tucked a few strands behind his ear. god, was he such a beautiful sight. lips coated in spit.
"i'm your p-pretty girl"
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