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wholoveseggs · 22 days

Note

Hey lovely, your latest story gave me an idea. How about Reader and Elijah have been together for a while, but he is the one to avoid sex. Every time he has been with a human, it overpowered them or hurt them. He can't keep Red Door Elijah in check, which is fine when he's with a supernatural being, but not when he's with a human. Reader knows his backstory but is determined to show him that their love is different.

Control

{I've officially run out of gifs I want to use, so I'm in my moodboard era now}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Plagued by nightmares of hurting you, Elijah avoids any form of intimacy, but you have had enough. You confront him about his rejection and Elijah finally learns how to let go and lose control.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @originals23, love love love red door elijah and his dark side ♡♡

6k words - Warnings: smut, fluff, lots of angst, red door Elijah, trauma, nightmares, visions of death, blood, blood drinking, rough sex, aggressive flirting, dom!elijah, jealously, masquerade ball, elevator vandalism...

Elijah needed control the way a drowning man needed air. It was as if it was a basic function, like oxygen, like blood. He had always been that way, even before he was turned, but it got worse when he was forced to take lives for food and to stay alive. His nature demanded he take what he wanted, when he wanted, but he was afraid of that, so he clung to rules, to discipline.

But no matter what he did, he was still plagued with the same nightmare. You, his perfect love, dead in his arms. Your body limp and lifeless, your eyes open but vacant. And all because he couldn't control himself. Your blood stained his skin, his clothes, his heart.

You knew better than to sneak up on a sleeping vampire, but it wasn't just any vampire. It was your Elijah, your sweet, loving, gentle Elijah.

All you wanted to do was surprise him with some coffee. It was going to be a long day, there was a huge party being hosted by Marcel. All of the factions were gathering for a masquerade ball, the first of its kind in centuries. There were rumors of a peace treaty in the works, and the festivities were the opening salvo.

You were beyond excited, you never experienced this sort of thing, and you were so happy that Elijah would be by your side. You picked out a matching set of masks for the two of you. For him, a sleek, black one with dark feathers at the tips. For yourself, a delicate, lace one in a deep crimson.

When you were younger, you had dreams of wearing beautiful, elaborate gowns, and dancing the night away with a handsome man. You couldn't help but feel giddy thinking about tonight.

You set the coffees down on a nearby table. Elijah's room was dim, only a small shaft of light peeking out from behind the curtains. He was curled up in the center of his large bed, his hair was disheveled and his lips were parted. The sheet was pooled around his hips, revealing his chiseled chest and toned arms.

He was beautiful, and you very much wanted to explore every bit of him. But he wouldn't allow it. He wouldn't allow himself to lose control. He had told you about his darkness, the red door, the place where he put all of the sins he couldn't live with.

When his control was frayed and his mind was weak, it would whisper to him, tempt him. Because there, in that space, he didn't have to feel guilt or pain. He was free. Free to do as he wished. He would be able to take you, claim you, love you the way his darker instincts screamed at him to.

You pulled off your sweater and boots, leaving you in just a mini dress and socks. You padded over to the bed and carefully slid under the covers, trying not to disturb him. You cuddled up next to him, your hand resting on his chest. You wished he would let you in, let you experience all of him, the good, the bad, the ugly. You loved him, and that meant loving everything about him.

Elijah had sensed your presence from the moment you entered his room, but he remained still, feigning sleep. His sweet little love, so utterly defenseless and vulnerable, alone in a vampire's bed. His fingers itched to touch you, to pull you into his embrace and never let you go. He could hear your heartbeat, steady and strong, could smell the sweet perfume you had dabbed behind your ears, and could feel the heat radiating off of your body. He was acutely aware of every aspect of you. It was hard not to give in to temptation, to pull you into his arms and kiss you until your lips were swollen and pink.

"Elijah," you said softly, in a sing-song voice. You brushed your fingers along his jaw, the stubble rough against your soft skin. He stirred slightly, pretending to wake.

"Hmm, good morning, love." He rasped, his voice heavy with sleep.

You kissed him softly, smiling into it. "Good morning. I brought us coffee."

He hummed, "That's perfect. Thank you, sweetheart."

"I can't wait for tonight." You sighed, tracing your fingers down his throat and along his collar bones.

Elijah was torn between letting his eyes flutter shut at the contact or watching your movements. You had him entranced.

"I can't either," he agreed. "You'll be the most beautiful woman there, I have no doubt."

You blushed at his compliment and kissed him again, your lips lingering against his. He groaned and rolled onto his side, bringing his hands up to cup your face, his thumbs stroking along your cheekbones. He let himself give in just a little, let the control slip a fraction. You gasped into the kiss as his tongue swept along the seam of your lips. Your lips parted, allowing him entry. You melted against him, your hand coming up to rest on his bicep.

His hands slid down your body, mapping every dip and curve, memorizing the feel of you. Your skin was like silk, your body supple and soft. You had a slight tremor, nervous, or maybe excited. He wasn't sure, but he loved how your breath hitched as he moved his hands lower and lower, until his palms were flat on your backside, his fingers flexing as he pulled you flush against him.

You hummed, a noise somewhere between a sigh and a moan. He drank it in, taking all of your little sounds and storing them in his memory. He rolled, pulling you with him so that you were under him. You moaned as he settled between your thighs, his weight a welcome comfort. He moved his mouth down, nipping at the skin of your throat and collarbone, careful not to let his fangs break the surface.

You tangled your fingers in his hair, pulling gently. You had fantasized about being with him in this way for so long, dreamed about how his body would feel pressed against yours, how his hands would feel on your bare skin. You didn't know what caused this shift in him, this sudden willingness to be intimate, but you were glad for it.

You tugged at the waistband of his boxers, trying to tell him what you wanted. You were not a shy person, you wanted to experience what it was like to be with such a powerful creature, to feel his strength and passion.

Elijah groaned and rocked his hips against yours, letting you feel how much he desired you. His control was slipping, and he didn't care. You wanted him, and he would have you. He leaned back to look at your beautiful face, wanting to etch this moment in his memory for all eternity. You were a vision, cheeks flushed and eyes dark with want.

Suddenly everything started to warp, your flushed skin turned cold, your warm eyes grew distant, and your heart slowed to a stop. His breath caught as a trickle of blood leaked from the corner of your mouth. He looked down at his hands and they were covered in your blood, the dark, rich liquid soaking the sheets and staining his skin.

"No, no, no, no, no." He chanted, trying to bring you back, willing the darkness to recede.

Your eyes were glassy, lifeless, bite marks all over your neck, your chest, your legs. You were covered in them, the evidence of his weakness, his inability to keep his desires in check.

Elijah threw himself from the bed, stumbling backwards. He clutched his head in his hands, a scream ripping from his throat. You were gone, dead, and it was his fault. He would never be able to look at your smiling face, never hear your soft laugh, or feel your lips on his again.

"Eli?" you said, stunned by his sudden departure. He was now across the room looking like a caged animal, his eyes wild and his hair a mess. You climbed out of the bed and slowly approached him. He looked like he was going to bolt, his muscles tense and his breath ragged.

"Are you alright?" you asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Don't!" he shouted, flinching away from your touch. "Don't touch me."

"Okay," you said, holding up your hands. "I won't."

He felt like he was losing his grip, the world was shifting around him, the ground threatening to give out beneath his feet. He felt like he was back there, back in that slaughterhouse that haunted him, the place that whispered his darkest desires, the place that taunted him with visions of what he truly was, no matter how much control he thought he had over it.

You reached out to him again, and he snapped. He grabbed your arm and pushed you against the wall, his eyes black and his fangs sharp. You gasped, but didn't struggle, trusting that he would never hurt you.

He released you at once, horrified by what he had done. He backed away, shaking his head. "No, no, no. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

He sank to his knees, his eyes wild and frantic.

"It's okay, Eli." You said, kneeling in front of him.

"You need to leave, please." He begged, his voice barely above a whisper.

"I'm not going anywhere." You said firmly, reaching out to touch him again. He tensed, his breath hitching as you made contact.

"LEAVE," he roared, his eyes flashing. You jerked your hand back, surprised by his outburst.

Elijah regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth, he watched you run out of the room and all he wanted was to chase after you, but his pride and fear kept him rooted in place. He couldn't let you be around him, look at what he did? If he couldn't control himself in a moment of passion, what would happen if he really let go?

Elijah stood in front of his mirror, adjusting and readjusting his tie. His hair was combed and his suit was tailored perfectly. But none of it felt right, the buttons on his shirt were too tight, the cufflinks too heavy, the material of his suit too coarse. He needed it all to go away.

He felt like a monster. A monster wearing a man's skin.

Elijah closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could do this. He could get through this night. He didn't know if you were coming to the party, and he couldn't decide if he wanted you there or not. He hated the idea of you being away from him, but he also couldn't bear the thought of you seeing him like this, a man unraveling, barely keeping himself together.

He opened his eyes and forced himself to smile, but the sight was a mockery. His lips were pulled taut, and his teeth looked like daggers. He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to tear down the entire city and start anew.

"Elijah! we are going to be late!" He heard Rebekah yell from the courtyard below.

"Be right there," he called, his voice hoarse. He gave himself one last look in the mirror before he walked out of the room and descended the stairs. He could see his siblings all gathered, dressed impeccably with their dates on their arms.

Klaus was talking with Camille, they were dressed in matching shades of blue. Freya and Keelin were standing close together, their hands entwined. Kol was whispering something in Davina's ear, making her laugh. Rebekah was on the phone with Marcel, telling him she was on her way. And Hayley was chatting with Jackson, his arm wrapped tightly around her waist.

"There you are." Freya said, noticing his presence. "Where is y/n? She was so excited about tonight."

The sound of your name made his chest ache, he was about to explain, or rather, come up with a plausible excuse when he heard a voice from behind him.

"I'm right here."

He turned around to see you walking down the stairs, dressed in an ornate black gown, matching his suit, your mask hanging in your hand.

"Y/n," he said, stunned by how beautiful you were.

You smiled slightly and approached him, your heels clicking on the stones. He took your hand, inspecting your arm. It was bruised and there were small scratches from where he had dug his nails into your skin. He brushed his fingers over the marks, regret and guilt filling him.

"It's fine," you said, squeezing his hand.

"No, it's not."

You leaned in and kissed him softly, the feeling of your lips on his caused him to relax a little. He kissed you back, the contact grounding him, reminding him why he needed to stay in control, for you.

"Let's go," Klaus said, gesturing for everyone to follow him out the door.

You took your mask and placed it on, the crimson filigree complimenting the dark silk of your gown. Elijah put on his mask, the bold design making his dark eyes stand out.

The group arrived at Marcel's penthouse, finding the place already crowded. People were drinking, dancing, and mingling. It was a lively atmosphere, filled with music and laughter.

"It's nice," you commented, holding Elijah's hand.

"It is," he agreed, looking around the room. "Shall we?"

He gestured to the dance floor and you nodded, taking his offered arm. He led you to the center of the room, where couples were already twirling and spinning.

"May I have this dance?" he asked, his voice low and seductive.

"You may," you answered, giving him a shy smile.

He took your hand and placed his other on your hip, guiding you through the steps. The two of you swayed to the music, moving gracefully.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his lips brushing your ear.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," you reassured him.

He wanted to argue, but you didn't give him a chance. You captured his lips in a kiss, the world around you melting away. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. The two of you stayed locked in the embrace, the music and the crowd fading into the background.

The two of you danced for a while, enjoying the feeling of being close to one another. The environment letting him relax a little. But when the music changed, becoming slow and sultry, his mind started to drift.

Elijah imagined pushing you against a wall, kissing your neck and leaving marks. He wanted to rip your dress off, and explore every inch of you. He wanted to bite you, to taste your blood. He wanted to claim you, to make you his.

He wanted to let go, to allow himself to give in. To experience the kind of pleasure and power that only came with a lack of control. But then he saw the blood again, the crimson of your mask, the ruby red of your lipstick, turned to the viscous liquid that both haunted and nourished him.

"What is it?" you asked, noticing the way his body tensed.

"Nothing," he said, his voice strained. "I just need a drink,"

He let go of you and headed to the bar, needing some strong alcohol to help calm his nerves. He ordered a scotch and downed it in one go, the liquid burning his throat. He ordered another, and another, until the world was pleasantly fuzzy and his thoughts were quiet.

"Mr. Mikaelson, so good to see you," a woman said, coming up to him.

"Madam," he replied, not looking up from his drink.

"How is business?" she asked, clearly wanting to engage in a conversation.

"Fine." He said shortly, hoping she would get the hint.

"The party is wonderful," she commented, sipping from a champagne flute, her mask was turquoise and silver, a few strands of her dark hair escaping her updo.

"Thank you, the decorations were my sister's doing," he replied, trying to be polite.

"Ah yes, your sister," the woman said, her eyes drifting over the crowd, landing on the blonde vampire. "She's almost as pretty as you," the woman added, a seductive smile on her lips.

"You're quite flattering, but I'm spoken for," Elijah told her, not unkindly.

The woman pouted. "So I heard, a human though? That must be...difficult," she said.

"How so?" He asked, not liking the direction the conversation was going.

"Humans are frail, their lives are fleeting," the woman replied, her hand coming to rest on his chest. He looked down at her hand touching him, her daylight ring a large sapphire. "And they are so easily broken," she added.

He clenched his jaw, trying not to let her words get to him. "That is why they are treasured," he replied, scanning the crowd in search for you.

"They are food. I thought an original vampire would know the difference," the woman grinned, enjoying getting a reaction out of him.

"Watch your tongue, Madam, or you might find it missing," he warned, his voice low and dangerous.

"Oh, feisty," the woman purred, her free hand went up and she ran her finger over the edge of his mask. "You could have any creature here, take them however you want. Break them in the best possible way," she purred, her pupils dilated.

"That's not how I operate, now if you will excuse me," he said, his anger starting to bubble.

"That's how you used to operate," the woman taunted, her fingers trailing over the buttons of his jacket. "I'm a little hurt that you don't recognize me," the woman pouted, batting her eyelashes at him.

"Should I?" He asked, trying to place her face.

"Paris, summer of 1783, you had me by the hair, bent over the side of a balcony, fucking me so hard that the cement cracked," she told him, licking her lips. "You were wild, rough, animalistic. And it was amazing," she breathed, her gaze unfocused as she remembered the night.

Elijah couldn't remember her, nor did he remember the event. It was amusing to him that this vampire thought she was special. She wasn't. He had bedded hundreds, maybe even thousands, of women. He only ever remembered the ones he loved.

"A shame you can't recall, I've thought about it many times over the years," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "That's a bit pathetic," he said bluntly.

She laughed, not taking offense. "Perhaps, but the sex was fantastic, I can still feel your bite," she smiled, her eyes falling to his mouth.

Elijah shook his head. "My dear, I'm sure there are plenty of willing participants here, if you truly wish to relive the past, you'll have no trouble finding someone to assist," he said dismissively.

"I would prefer you," the woman said, her tone changing. "No one here matches your power, no one can fuck me like you did."

"Maybe try Niklaus, ask him to bite you," he smirked, watching as his brother and Camille were laughing together.

"Both of you dating humans, what a complete and utter waste," she said, her eyes flicking to you. "I bet I could make you forget all about her," she cooed, pressing herself closer to him.

You could see this vampire all over Elijah, touching him and speaking in his ear. You weaved through the crowd, wanting to put an end to it.

Elijah's attention turned from the woman, a smile spreading across his face as he saw you walking towards him.

"I'm going to have to politely decline, thank you." he said, reaching his hand out for yours.

"Come now, surely you could use some relief," the woman cooed, her hands trailing over his body, ignoring your presence completely.

You didn't quite know what came over you, but you reached up and gently slapped her hand away from him.

The vampire turned her attention to you, her eyes going to the bruising on your arm. She let out a laugh. "Oh my, perhaps I was wrong, looks like your little plaything can handle you," the woman mocked, a smirk on her lips.

"Don't," Elijah growled, not appreciating her words.

She just laughed and shrugged, turning her attention back to him. "If you change your mind, I'll be here all night." the vampire winked at him and walked away, joining another group.

Elijah let out a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

You gave Elijah a half-smile, hoping he wouldn't think you were stupid for hitting the vampire. She could have so easily crushed you, but you weren't afraid of her.

"Who was that?" you asked, annoyed by the exchange.

He shook his head. "An old lover, it seems," he told you, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Oh," was all you said, sadness filling you. You weren't the overly jealous type, but knowing that vampire had Elijah in a way you hadn't made you envious and sad.

Elijah saw the change in your demeanor and realized he had not answered the question right. You misunderstood him.

"Not a recent lover," he explained. "It was a very long time ago, and I do not remember the night," he assured you, his hand cupping your cheek.

You sighed, his touch instantly easing the tension in your body.

He pulled you close, his arm wrapping around your waist. "That was very brave of you, that could have ended very badly" he said softly in your ear.

Your hands went to his shoulders, clinging to his jacket, the material warm from his body. "You make me feel brave, you make me feel safe," you murmured.

His heart constricted. He didn't deserve your faith or your trust. The bruise on your arm was proof enough of that. He should let you go, make you hate him and walk away from you before you get hurt anymore, but he couldn't. Not while you were looking up at him with all that trust and affection in your eyes. He loved you far too much to give up.

He leaned in and kissed you, the familiar spark of electricity passing between you. He deepened the kiss, his hand cupping the back of your neck. He was pouring everything he felt for you into it, hoping you could feel the depths of his love and devotion.

You returned the kiss, trying to convey all the things you couldn't say. You broke apart, panting slightly. He rested his forehead against yours, his eyes closed.

"Eli, I was hoping that we could...," you trailed off, biting your lip.

"What?" he asked, his eyes fluttering open.

"I want us to...you know," you whispered.

His eyes darkened, hunger and need filled him. All of the work he had done to push away his urges, to protect you, had unraveled in an instant. Now all he could focus on was the vision of your body beneath his, the feeling of skin against skin. The blood flowing through your veins singing a song to him that he could not deny, at least, not completely.

He pulled you a little closer, swaying you to the music playing, his other hand gripping your hip possessively. You watched his pupils dilate, saw the tension in his jaw and the bob of his Adam's apple.

"Not tonight," he murmured, trying his hardest to hide how much he wanted you, how much it would hurt to reject you again.

Your fingers curled around the lapels of his suit jacket, tugging on it a little harder than you meant to. He never wanted to give in, to allow himself a taste of pleasure. Even with his walls down, Elijah could never truly give himself to you completely.

His hands went to yours, prying your fingers from his jacket, his eyes dark and dangerous. "You do not understand how difficult it is," he hissed.

You pulled against his grip, anger bubbling up. "So, help me understand," you said in a soft tone, ignoring the fact that you were arguing in a room full of people and that you were both gripping each other hard enough to bruise.

"It feels like..." you started, shaking your head a little, "like, I am not enough. Do you not want me? Or have you realized that you need more and I cannot provide that to you?" You finished in a small voice.

His grip on your hands tightened, a warning look flashing in his eyes. "You are more than enough," he whispered, his eyes softening.

You took a steadying breath. "Then. Please. Fuck. Me," you said bluntly.

Elijah let go of you as if you had burned him. Your words cut him deeply.

You let out a frustrated sigh, his rejection stinging. "I... I'm going to go home," you said, blinking back tears.

He went to grab you but you moved out of his reach, his fingers barely grazing your arm. He watched you leave, his eyes following your figure until it disappeared into the crowd.

It was in that moment that he knew he had to make a decision, either he could keep trying to be gentle with you and risk losing you or he could give in and have you completely, but at the cost of hurting you.

Elijah drained his drink and placed the empty glass on the bar, his mind made up. He followed you, moving so fast that no one saw him leave.

You were upset, your feelings a tangled mess, waiting in a quiet hallway for the elevator to arrive. Your eyes were glazed with tears, your breathing shaky. You didn't know what to do, and you didn't know what you wanted from him.

You were lost in thought when the elevator dinged, announcing its arrival, but before the doors opened, hands were on your waist and you were pressed against the wall. His lips were on yours, hungry and demanding. You gasped and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth.

You melted into his touch, your fingers tangling in his hair. His hands were on your thighs, lifting you up and pushing your dress higher.

You wrapped your legs around him, pressing your body against his. The heat between you erupting, causing a soft moan to escape your lips.

He broke the kiss, his mouth going to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and bites. His hands were on your hips, pulling your body closer. He was rough and urgent, his nails digging into your skin. You gasped, arching into him, needing to feel more.

"You want me to fuck you?" he whispered in your ear, his voice low and husky. "I will," he promised, his lips ghosting over yours.

You clung to him, giving yourself over to the moment. He lifted you off the ground and carried you to the elevator. The doors slid open and he stepped inside, pressing you against the wall. His hands were all over your body, touching and teasing.

You were so caught up in his touch that you didn't notice the doors closing, trapping the two of you alone. He punched the panel, making the elevator come to a jerking stop. He kissed you, his hands finding their way under your dress, pushing the fabric out of the way.

He gripped your hips, grinding against you. The intensity and desperation in his touch was new, making your head spin. You wanted more, needed more. You moaned, the sound echoing off the walls. He groaned, his fingers digging into your skin.

He pushed your panties aside, sliding a finger into your wet heat. You gasped, arching into him. He pumped his finger in and out of you, curling it inside of you. He added a second finger, his thumb rubbing circles around your clit.

He groaned, the feeling of you tightening around him almost too much, his lips brushing your ear. "I want to hear you say my name when I make you come," he whispered, his hot breath tickling your skin.

All you could do was nod, your cheeks flushed and your eyes closed, it was all happening so fast and you couldn't get enough of it. He pressed his lips to your neck, nipping at your skin. He added a third finger, the heel of his palm pressing against your clit.

Your eyebrows arched, locking eyes with him, your mouth open and your hands clutching his jacket. The pressure was building and you felt like you were going to explode. You gasped, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

"Elijah," you said his name breathlessly.

"That's it," he encouraged, pulling on your earlobe with his teeth. "Say my name," he ordered.

"Elijah," you moaned, the pressure coiling tighter.

"Again," he demanded, his hand speeding up.

"Elijah," his name fell from your lips, your release crashing through you.

Your eyes slammed shut, your head thrown back, the muscles in your neck straining. You were trembling, a sheen of sweat coating your skin. He slowly withdrew his fingers, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw. You could feel his fangs graze your skin.

He was so hard, you could feel his erection pressing against you. You shifted your weight, trying to gain some friction, but he pulled away, his hands on your hips, pinning you in place.

You opened your eyes, looking at his face, his eyes completely black, the veins under them moving, his mouth open slightly, showing his fangs. You felt fear, but not the type of fear that made you want to run, but the kind of fear that sent a thrill through your body, the kind that made you crave danger.

You lightly traced your fingers over the veins, a smile on your lips. His chest rising and falling rapidly. You ran your finger over his lower lip, and he leaned in, his fangs scraping the pad of your finger. You could feel the sharp tips. He was so dangerous, so lethal, a perfect predator, yet here you were, trapped and wanting nothing more than to have him consume you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. He pressed his body against yours, his erection grinding against you. You moaned, reaching between you, your fingers deftly working the button and zipper of his trousers. You tugged his boxers down, his hard cock springing free. You wrapped your fingers around him, stroking him.

"Fuck," he growled, his hips bucking, seeking more of your touch.

You tightened your grip, stroking him faster, twisting your wrist a little. He groaned, his hands on your thighs, his eyes hooded and his mouth parted slightly.

You released him and wrapped your arms back around his neck, grinding yourself against him. He growled, his hands cupping your ass, lifting you. You used the wall for support and wrapped your legs around him, angling yourself just right. You cried out as he pressed inside, stretching and filling you.

His breath was hot against your neck. "That's my girl," he said softly.

He paused a moment, giving you time to adjust. Then he started to thrust, his rhythm slow and measured, watching the way your expression changed as he fucked you. You moaned, your legs tightening around him, your ankles locking together, trying to pull him closer.

He pumped his hips, burying himself deep inside you. You tilted your head back, exposing the soft flesh of your neck.

It took every bit of control he had not to give in and bite you. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, feeling your blood pump just below the surface of your skin. His hips snapped harder, driving into you, focused on fucking you, on drawing more delicious moans and whimpers from sweet lips.

The coil within you grew tighter, the pressure increasing with every movement of his hips. You clung to his jacket, needing something to anchor you, feeling as if you were spinning out of control. He grunted with each thrust, the sound of skin against skin almost drowned out by the blood pumping furiously in your ears.

His eyes never left yours, a predatory look crossing his features, his fingers gripping the swell of your ass, pounding into you with incredible force, your head hitting the wall with each powerful thrust.

It was intense and consuming and you couldn't get enough of him, and neither could he.

You lost track of how many times you'd come, all you knew was the sweet, aching tension was building again and you didn't know if you could handle another. He held you so tight, your body pressed so close to his, his fangs threatening to pierce the delicate skin of your neck. You couldn't stop, you didn't want it to stop.

Then his rhythm faltered, his breathing becoming labored, his hips pumping furiously. He needed a release. It had been a while since he'd experienced such raw, carnal lust.

He could no longer keep himself from drinking from you, he'd waited too long, denied his primal urges. With a snarl, he sunk his fangs into the side of your neck. A guttural cry fell from your lips, your back arching as you came undone, the sudden pain mixed with the pleasure so intense, you felt your vision darkening as you blacked out.

Elijah gripped your thighs, his lips pulling blood from your body, sending your pulse racing, your blood so hot and sweet that he thought he would combust. He let himself go, cumming deep inside of you, your blood in his mouth, the sweetness coating his tongue and rushing into his system. Your body went limp in his arms, your heartbeat slowing.

Sudden panic consumed him, what had he done? The guilt and fear crashed over him in waves. You looked so pale, you were dying in his arms and it was his fault. The rage and self-hatred he had tried so hard to keep in check ripped through him, his true nature unleashed.

But then you opened your eyes, smiling at him dreamily and something inside of him snapped back into place.

Elijah chuckled, still inside of you. He grinned, the edges of his lips curving upwards. He kissed you softly, reverently.

"Holy fuck Elijah," you chuckled, panting slightly, your heart beating erratically, but you felt alive and amazing, and loved.

"You scared me for a moment," he confessed, resting his forehead against yours.

"That was.. You are..," you struggled for words. "Just wow," you laughed.

You held on to him, wrapping your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He wrapped an arm around you, supporting you, the other stroking the side of your head. You breathed him in, savoring the moment, never wanting it to end. He smiled, nuzzling your cheek, his nose rubbing against your skin.

"Let's go home, I want you all to myself," you murmured, kissing his neck, the taste of him filling you.

He chuckled, his voice a deep rumble. "As you wish."

"We have a lot of catching up to do," you grinned, thinking of all the things you were going to do to him.

Elijah chuckled. "My sweet girl," he murmured, kissing you gently.

The elevator rattled, the emergency lights coming on. Elijah pulled away from you, adjusting your dress, smoothing the fabric. He zipped and buttoned his trousers, straightening his clothes. The panel was broken, slight electrical sparks coming from the metal. Elijah gripped the doors, forcing them open. He stepped out and helped you down. You smoothed your dress, looking at him shyly. He grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, leading you out of the building.

"I like it when you lose control, perhaps that was the solution all along," you teased, walking along the street, your fingers intertwined with his.

Elijah laughed. "Perhaps, my darling, you may be right."

And with that, he swept you off your feet and into his arms, carrying you out into the night.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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twstowo · 4 months

Text

They End Up In a Universe Where The Two Of You Hate Each Other [Twst]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: The two of you are happily dating and he couldn’t have asked for anything else, however, one day he finds himself in a strange place only to find that here the two of you are enemies.

♡︎Enemies to lovers????

♡︎Includes: Riddle and Leona

[AU Masterlist]

[Here] ☆[Azul and Jamil] ☆[Vil and Idia] ☆[Malleus]

⋆⋅☆Riddle

The fate of this Riddle had been written. He would ascend to the position of the King of the Queendom of Roses as his mother passed away, and he would transform into a worse tyrant than her. Eventually, everyone he thought he could trust would turn against him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Riddle was dumbfounded when he opened his eyes, only to find himself in front of thousands of people, a crown on top of his head, proclaiming him as the King of this strange land. The people in front of him bowed in fear of his rules, as he was nothing more than a tyrant in this unfamiliar place.

Days passed as he tried to comprehend how he ended up in such a peculiar setting – one where Night Raven College didn't exist, and his mother, once the queen, had just died, making him the King of the Queendom of Roses. Along the way, he encountered some of his friends such as Trey and Che’nya, but none of them seemed to enjoy his company, only interacting with him out of fear, just like anyone else. For Riddle, this didn’t make any sense. He knew that his past actions in his universe had been that of a tyrant, but he had changed with your help and that of his friends who were here by his side. Seeing himself in a similar situation again, he decided to alter the course of history that dictated he be betrayed by his own people.

“Stay still, or I will cut your throat.” Finally, you entered the picture. Riddle had questioned when you would show up since he arrived. At first, he thought that maybe you would be one of the party members seeking his hand in marriage, but he felt that wouldn’t entirely suit you. He knew that when you showed up, you would turn his world upside down because that was the impact you had in his universe. You stood in front of him, a knife dangerously close to his throat, ready to cut it if he made any stupid moves. If this had been someone else, he would have been ready to fight, ready to call the guards and collar you. However, deep down, even with a knife next to his neck, he knew that he could trust you.

You were an assassin, meant to kill the tyrant king, driven with only this purpose. It had been one of your group that had murdered the Queen, and now it only lasted for you to finish the job of ending the tyrant's bloodline. However, strangely after the king’s coronation, you started seeing a strange change in his actions. The once tyrant man who collared everyone in the city came back to uncollar them. He hosted tea parties for the people in the city and abolished some of the laws his mother had created. Did you really have to kill someone like that? Was he as bad as everyone made him seem? You decided to check for yourself, and with that, you found that Riddle was, in fact, someone with a gentle heart.

“I wish to undo what my mother started,” you heard his docile words, a questionable expression on your face. Did he really mean that? He could be trying to lower your guard to call the guards, but within his eyes, you saw no sign of lies. He meant what he had said, he truly wanted to better the Queendom. You decided to give him one chance, for if he failed, you would come back to take his life.

⋆⋅☆Leona

The fate of this Leona had been written. He would kill his brother out of jealousy for ascending to the throne, and over time, he would be overthrown by his own nephew, left to be alone and mocked.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

A story that Leona deemed fitting for him, as he once again witnessed his brother achieving what he had desired, becoming even here the shadow of his own brother. Most of his days were spent lazing around, knowing that no good would come from trying to follow the predetermined path laid out for him. Unless he did things differently.

The sweet taste of power was intoxicating, and he planned everything with immense detail, confident that everything would turn out perfectly. That was until he saw you. You, hailing from another land, sought to establish a peaceful connection between the realms. Upon seeing him, you strolled towards him with a fiery look, as if commanding him to behave. If it had been anyone else, he might have lost his composure, making sure you would regret ever looking at him disrespectfully. But he could never do that to you. He almost found the expression amusing, almost as if you had turned into his lucky angel, advising him to halt his plans before he could end up as fate had written for him here.

“Why are you always lazing around?” The sweet melody of your voice captured his attention, but there was nothing sweet about it. Your hands rested on your hips as you looked down at his figure. To anyone hearing you speak, it would seem as if you hated him, and to a point, you actually did. The fact that you saw so much potential in Leona, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was sleep, made you furious beyond belief. You had come from a family that demanded perfection, and perfection you had to become. Working day and night to fulfill their expectations, you aimed to continue their bloodline. Seeing someone like Leona, who appeared to have been born with everything you had to work so hard for, made you mad.

“Why not join me for once?” He asked, tapping the grass next to him, a mocking tone present in his voice as he checked if you could lower your guard to fulfill his wish. In truth, he just missed the moments back in his universe where he would lay his head on your lap as you talked about your day. Yet, the you from this universe wasn’t so thrilled with that idea, and he watched as you turned around with a roll of your eyes.

Your encounters were filled with glares, as you didn't seem to enjoy his company and spoke ill of him. However, somehow, even if mean, he found himself enjoying the time spent with you, albeit fleetingly. While he glanced at your departing figure, wishing to spend more time with you, he knew that, just like in his universe, you were meant to be by his side.

#twst #disney twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst x reader #x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst riddle #twst writing #twistedwonderland #riddle x reader #leona kingsholar x reader #leona kingscholar #twst leona #leona x reader

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gucciwins · 6 months

Text

birthday blues

Y/N doesn't celebrate her birthday. Harry wants to change that.

Word count: 9381

A/N: it's my birthday! and I thought you deserved something nice. I feel sometimes birthday can be very up and down. somehow tears come by every year. I always wanted to write a birthday story and what better day to post it than on my birthday.

warnings: mentions of a parent death

happy reading!

365 days

That’s how long it took the sun to rotate the earth. That was also how many days it took for Y/N to turn a year older.

Birthdays are meant to be celebrated with family and friends. Where they shower someone with gifts cake but mostly love. It’s something Y/N hasn’t felt since she was young. Her mother made sure Y/N was reminded that the sun shined bright for her. She made all her dreams come true until she couldn’t. Y/N lost her mother, Isla, to cancer. She fought a long battle, but it seemed losing her mother meant losing her father as he lost the love of his life. Her older brother, already close to eighteen, understood loss but didn’t realize how grief could change a person because as soon as Caleb turned eighteen, he was gone. Only calling during the holidays but never coming home.

Y/N saw how others were celebrated on their birthdays as she grew up, from being invited to birthday parties to the grand gifts they would receive, primarily knowing that her friends had someone show up for them. That never happened for Y/N.

She moved away from home for university, and there was no argument from her father. She began her life where she hoped to create a family of her own, and with time, she had. Y/N never believed in having a large group of friends, but wherever she went, she made a friend along the way.

Aurora is Y/N’s best friend. She met her at a book club, their local bookstore hosts. Y/N complimented her fiery red hair; Aurora took one hard look at Y/N and claimed they would be best friends. Y/N brushed her off instead asking her out for coffee, and well, it seemed Aurora was right. She always is Y/N had come to learn.

With Aurora in her life came new friends; she was invited to dinner parties, coffee days, and to join in on mundane errand days. Y/N had never felt so invited and loved by her friends, but she made sure to give it right back. When it was Suki’s birthday, Y/N knew she wanted an ice skating day with all their friends but could never convince everyone to go; well, Y/N turned on the charm, and off they went. At Edward’s graduation party, she brought his favorite cake from the bakery across town. For Tina, she found a vintage sweater she had been searching for since she was seventeen and learned who Vivienne Westwood was. Y/N was the friend who went above and beyond for everyone because she knew they deserved it.

Year after year, they would ask Y/N to celebrate her birthday or accomplishments, but Y/N always promised them she didn’t like celebrating her birthday. After two years, her friends decided not to fight it and respected her wishes. She’d start her day the same way each year: head to Heart Coffee to buy a croissant and an oat milk vanilla latte. She’d head to the park, where she’d sit by the lake, seeing all the people run by. Then she’d cook herself a small meal and stay home to watch her favorite show (Parks and Rec). It’s a simple plan, one she liked and her friends respected. Her friends would get her gifts, sometimes books, kitchen supplies, or even the sweater she had been eyeing and saving up for, but that’s as much as she allowed to be celebrated.

Then Harry came into her life.

Aurora was having a bonfire to celebrate the start of Summer. Y/N loved the beach, searching for shells, and mostly, being in the water. Y/N had offered to help set up because she wanted to maximize her time in the water. Her mum always told her she was born a mermaid in another life for how much she loved water. Y/N spent her time in the water, and once she felt the sun begin to set (Aurora yelled for her to come in), she took a final dive and dashed to her car to change into warmer clothes. As she was closing her car’s trunk, Y/N bumped into someone. She quickly apologized, knowing she was in a hurry to return to her friends because she was hungry.

“My fault,” a strong voice responded.

It sent chills down her back. She looked up to meet his eyes and found mossy green eyes staring at her. “Sorry,” she apologized again. “I’ve got to go.” Y/N pointed behind her to signify she had people waiting for her, and before he could stop her, she ran off.

Y/N tried to brush away his pretty face, but her brain seemed frozen. She’d never seen someone so pretty. He had curls peeking out behind his hood, and his long eyelashes were something she’d forever be jealous of while she’d dream of what his pink lips might taste like. Y/N, with a drink in her hand, allowed herself to escape to her thoughts.

“Babes, you’ve got a pretty tan going,” Aurora commented as Y/N set her bag down.

Y/N felt her face warm, knowing tomorrow she’d be more burnt than she liked, but being in the water was worth it.

“So the mermaid has legs,” Frannie teases Y/N as she sits in the sand.

“So it seems. Got any gummy worms?” Y/N plays along, knowing her friend would understand the significance of the candy from one of their favorite movies.

There was a lot of chatter going around. She patted Frannie’s thigh, telling her she was getting another drink, but before she could do that, Tobias, Aurora’s boyfriend of two years, called for her.

“Y/NNNNN!” She giggled because it was clear he was a few drinks in. “My sweet baby, I want to introduce you to my friends. We’re in a band.”

“Were.” A man with an Irish accent answers.

“Shush, Niall. Y/N loves musicians.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, “only if they play the piano,” she corrects.

She turned to look at the people Tobias wanted to introduce her to, and she took a deep breath when she recognized the guy with the gray hood, a smirk on his face.

“Right, whatever. My good mates from left to right are Niall, Sarah, Devon, and Harry. Mitch is off getting drinks. He’s the dude with really long hair. You’ll see him,” Tobias assures her. “Now, this is my best mate Y/N.” Y/N giggles. “Don’t tell Aurora, she’ll fight anyone who calls Y/N her, and I quote “bestie.””

Y/N hums in agreement. “It’s lovely to meet you all.” She shakes their hand in greeting. She saved Harry for last. Y/N tries to hide she’s looking at his long fingers, but when she looks at Harry, he’s staring at her with a wide smile.

“Piano hands.”

Y/N feels her face flush because he’s referring to the comment she made a few minutes ago. She takes a step back and excuses herself. “Off to get a drink. It was lovely to meet you all.”

Harry steps forward as if to follow her, but Tobias stops him with a shake of his head. Always protective. She looks over her shoulder and finds Harry already staring at her. She laughs to herself. Maybe she’ll get the courage to talk to him after two more drinks.

One drink later, Y/N was watching the waves crash in when she heard someone coming closer. She thought it was Aurora who was escaping the loud music for a moment, so she patted the seat next to her, but to her surprise, it was Harry.

“Hi,” she greeted softly.

“Hi, Y/N.” Harry smiled at her. “You’re hard to get alone.”

She rolls her eyes playfully. “That’s Mum and Dad for you.”

“They’re protective of everyone like that?” He asks.

“Yes, but more so me.”

“Is it because you’re too sweet?” Harry asks curiously.

“Or to mean,” she counters.

Harry laughs, “I doubt that.”

Y/N turns her body to look at him, squinting her eyes suspiciously. “You don’t know me.”

He shrugs, “I don’t, but you shook my hand when we met. Don’t think that’s happened in such an informal setting.”

Shit.

Y/N lets his words sink in. So it was weird to shake hands, but her mum always taught her to be polite, and she'd shake their hand if she couldn’t be a hugger. Were handshakes weird? Did that mean Harry thought she was strange? Well, there goes her chance with him.

“Y/N, Sweets? Where’d you go?” Harry calls for her attention, seeing her lost in her head. “I’m that boring, huh?”

She’s quick to shake her head. “Sorry. That was so rude of me.”

“Only teasing.”

“Don’t like the party?” Y/N gestured behind them, knowing that was much better than sitting with her.

Harry scoots his hand closer to hers, only an inch apart the slightest movement, and they’d be touching. “I meant it when I said you’re hard to get alone. Aurora asked me fifty different questions, and one was about my car insurance.”

Aurora was odd, but she always had her best interests in mind.

“Think she’s scared I might get taken away from her.”

“She did say something about 60/40.”

Y/N lets her head fall into her lap, “that’s embarrassing.”

“Take it everyone’s sweet on you, Sweets.”

Y/N feels herself melt at the moniker. Harry is too charming for her, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t want a chance.

“Are you?”

Harry takes it in stride. “Definitely.”

“Hmm…”

Harry takes her silence as rejection. “Take it, it’s not mutual?”

“I’m afraid you never asked me a question.” She feigns innocence.

Harry grins, “would you like to go on a date with me?” Y/N stays silent. “How’s that for a question?”

Y/N stands up, brushes away the sand, and offers her hand to Harry. He takes it, careful to not pull her off balance. “Yes.”

She walks back to her friends, leaving behind a stunned Harry.

“Did you say yes?” He yells, hurrying to catch up.

“I did.”

“Why?”

Y/N laughs, confused. “Was I supposed to say no?”

“Tobias assured me you would say no, so I thought no harm in trying.”

Y/N steps close to Harry, removing any space they head between each other. “Listen here, Harry. As much as I love Tobias, he doesn’t speak for me. So, if you ever have a question for me, just ask.”

Harry nods.

“Good. Now I’d love a s’more, care to join me?”

Harry, enamored by Y/N, is quick to agree.

He spent the remainder of the night glued to Y/N’s side. He couldn’t get enough of her. He wanted to know everything about her, from her birthday to her favorite number. She asked him about the pets he had growing up and who his three favorite female artists were. Y/N told Harry his answer could change her response to their upcoming date. Harry named Stevie Nicks, Kacey Musgraves, and Megan Thee Stallion. Y/N told him she approved. He sighed in relief, telling her that his heart was close to beating out of his chest.

Harry’s friends began to pack up to leave, but he noticed Y/N didn’t, so he stayed put Y/N tucked against his side and said it was time for him to go, sensing all the looking Harry’s friends were directing at him and he was ignoring.

“Don’t want to leave you alone.”

��I’ve got my friends, Harry. I was fine before you and will be fine once you leave.”

Harry frowned, “fine isn’t good enough.”

“You’re a tough cookie.”

Harry makes no move to get up.

“I’ll make you a deal.”

He perks up, “I’m listening.”

“You text me when you make it home.” Harry nods eagerly. “I’ll text you when I make it home. If you’re awake, I’ll let you call me to wish me goodnight.”

“I’ll be awake,” he promises.

Y/N doesn’t know how true that is, but it does get him to finally follow his tired friends to their car. She watches him walk away when Aurora comes up behind, resting her head on Y/N’s shoulder.

“Tobias bet me $50 bucks he could keep Harry away from you.”

“What did you do, Rora?”

“I offered him a blowie if he let you be,” Aurora laughed, “I saw the sparkle in your eye. Don’t love him more than me is all I ask.”

Y/N giggles, “I wouldn’t dare.”

“Good. I told him 60/40, but 70/30 is a better deal for me.”

Y/N felt like throwing up. She changed her outfit three times, restyled her hair twice, and messed up her eyeliner for the first time in months. Her date with Harry was tonight, and while she had a massive crush on him, her nerves were getting the better of her.

Before she could change her outfit another time, her phone rang, notifying her of a knock on her door. The security camera she had installed was a significant help. She pulled up the app on her phone and saw Harry wearing a black knitted sweater with two swans kissing. A bouquet of flowers in his hand. He kept pacing the front door, and Y/N felt settled, knowing he was nervous, too.

First dates can be awkward, and small talk is boring, but as soon as she opens the front door, Y/N knows it’s different. Harry shows her a bright smile, telling her how beautiful she looks. Y/N lets Harry open her car door; for dinner, Harry decides to take her to his favorite Italian restaurant. It’s ten minutes from the beach. It’s a family-owned establishment where all the dishes are made from scratch. Harry promised Mama D’s offers a pink sauce that’s to die for. Y/N let Harry order for her, and she was not sorry; the food was delicious. She knew she would return, but that wasn’t the best part. No, it was spending time with Harry.

She learned how smart he was. He is constantly reading a new book, whether poetry or history books; he always has his hand on something new. Y/N proudly told him she loved her romance books, that she had only recently begun to get into fantasy, but that her favorite series growing up was “The Hunger Games.” She went on a slight tangent explaining what the books meant to her and how, from time to time, she would pick it up to read it all over again. When she realized she had probably said too much, Y/N felt her face burning and wouldn’t dare to meet Harry’s stare.

“Sorry,” she apologized.

Harry shakes his head, “no, don’t do that.”

“What?” Y/N asks confused.

“Apologize for what you’re passionate about. It’s a part of you; don’t make it seem insignificant,” his words settled deep in her heart. “I could write you a ten-page essay on why The Notebook is one of the best romance movies to exist.”

“With citations included?” Y/N teased, easing the tension she was holding.

“Well, of course,” Harry plays into her banter.

It’s clear by the end of the date that Y/N is head over heels for Harry, and the feeling is mutual. Harry sat across from Y/N at the start of the meal, but after their dinner and a glass of wine, he slipped into the seat next to her. He played with her fingers that rested on the table, his entire body turned to her, giving her his undivided attention. Y/N and Harry stayed at the restaurant until they closed. Their waiter, Devin, told them he didn’t want to rush them, but they did need to clean up the outside patio. Harry knew it was time to go but didn’t want the night to end.

“Fancy a walk?” Harry asked Y/N as they stood by the car, pointing toward the beach where she could hear the waves crashing on the shore.

“Lead the way.”

Harry reached for Y/N’s hand, but Y/N was the one to intertwine their fingers, keeping a tight grip on him. Harry gave her a squeeze to assure her he liked it. The moon shone down on them as they walked towards the calm waves. They walked in silence; there was no need to fill the void with talk. Simply being together was enough for them.

He was aware this was a first date. Yet, Harry knew what he was feeling was something he would never experience again, entirely because of Y/N.

“Harry?”

“Yes, Sweets.”

“Can I confess something to you?”

Harry stops walking, hearing the tremble in her voice. “Hey, of course you can. Anything you want.”

“Well,” she takes a deep breath. “When we met, I thought you might be a little cocky because you have this larger-than-life personality, but truthfully, you're the sweetest person I have ever met.”

Harry feels his cheeks turn red. He did not see this coming. “Sweets, you mean that?”

“I do. You make me feel safe and cared for. I-I know we don’t know each other too well, but I would like to keep seeing you if you’re interested,” she whispers the final word as if all her confidence was sucked away.

“Y/N, look at me.” She lifts her gaze to meet his. Y/N can see how bright his eyes are with the moon's light. “I would love to keep going on dates with you. You called me sweet, but Y/N, you’re the kindest, smartest, most beautiful person I have met in all my years of life. I’d love to keep spending time with you even if it was simply to go grocery shopping.”

“Good,” she whispers. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

“Come one, Sweets. The night is still young.”

Harry and Y/N spent the remainder of the night sitting on the cold sand, telling each other everything they could think of because while neither would say it out loud, they knew they had met their soulmate.

Y/N loved playing dress-up. She loved exploring her fashion, knowing she’d get suitable and horrible outfits, but each one would be a story for her to tell. Y/N loved going to flea markets on the weekends and went to her favorite thrift store every time the kind worker shot her a text, there was a large donation that came in. Her mother once took her to an estate sale, and Y/N got to see pieces of someone else’s story. Y/N loved visiting the homes but also because she got to find some of the most insane items. Y/N had found a vintage baby pink Chanel sweater and a never-worn pearl necklace. It was her most precious piece of jewelry.

When Harry learned that Y/N loved going to vintage and second-hand stores, he planned a date night to take her to all the hidden spots his mother had shown him. It had been a few weeks of dates, Y/N and Harry being exclusive, enjoying their time together. Harry had planned a few dates, but so had Y/N. With final exams looming close, he wanted to make sure that Y/N knew that spending time with her was his priority, so he wanted to take her to one of her favorite activities.

Harry had specific tastes, loving to wear vintage shirts, sometimes paying too much for one he couldn’t live without. Harry loved being able to share this passion with Y/N but mostly enjoyed spending time with her. He understood they both had schoolwork and needed to make time to study, but Y/N was great at making time to see him, so he decided he could do the same. She stopped by for breakfast after her morning pilates class. Harry would send her flowers to arrive at her office. It was a simple gesture, but Y/N appreciated it each time.

“Did you know Dee can’t stand Prim?” Y/N tells Harry as she looks through the rack of skirts, trying to find a velvet skirt.

Harry frowned. “Prim the cat?”

“Mhmm…the very one. Says she’s demonic or something,” Y/N shrugs.

“Prim is the sweetest little baby. Always curl up in your lap for a nap.”

Y/N looks back at him with a big smile, recalling the memory of them over at Sasha’s house for game night. Harry sat to her right as they watched Frannie and Brandon try to beat their score in charades when the small black cat came right over to her with a tiny meow and settled in her lap. Y/N ran her hand through Prim’s black coat, coxing her right to sleep. Harry made sure to capture photos for her. Even made it his new lock screen.

“Yeah, told Dee she probably needs to bring Prim a snack to befriend her.”

Y/N pulled out a black skirt; she looked it over, trying to decide if she wanted it, when Harry spotted something over her shoulder. It was a maroon velvet skirt with a split on the leg, and he knew it was exactly what she was looking for.

“How about this?”

She turned around to see Harry holding up a skirt. It looked in perfect condition, not a tear in sight. “What if it doesn’t fit?”

“We can always alter it. I’m amazing with a sewing machine,” Harry shares.

Y/N grabs it from him, adding it to the pile of clothes she’s already holding in one arm. “Fine, I’ve been convinced.” She giggles, knowing she would have taken it no matter what because Harry was the one who found it for her.

“Did you find that knitted cardigan here?” Y/N asks him, exiting the shop, the bag of clothes in Harry’s hand as he uses his other hand to hold hers.

“No, my Nan made it.”

Y/N’s eyes gleam in excitement. “That’s amazing. Did she teach you?”

Harry laughs. “No, I'm really bad with needles. Nan says I’ve got too big of hands.”

Y/N lifts their intertwined hands, looking down at his black nail polish contrasting her red. “I think you’ve got perfect hands.”

Harry kisses her temple. “Thank you, sweets. Are you up for a coffee?”

“And a croissant?” She asks excitedly.

“Well, of course. Only the best for you.” Harry pulls her close and leads them to a coffee shop up the street.

Harry knows he’s never been happier. He’s glad to have Y/N in his life.

Y/N had spent the summer falling in love. Harry had been the perfect gentleman. She had never met someone as kind as him, and when he asked her to be his girlfriend, there was only one clear answer.

Yes.

She held back from screaming it. Her excitement was hard to hide, but thankfully, so was Harry’s. They spent that night back at Y/N’s apartment kissing. Harry had the sweetest lips, and Y/N always wanted more after one taste. He brought warmth into her life, which she would always be thankful for.

Now, in Autumn, she spent her time with her studying, going on dates, and sharing lots of kisses. Y/N got to meet Harry’s family: his mother, who has a big love for cats; his older sister, who’s a lawyer and the best baker to ever exist; and his step-father, who is heaven-sent. Y/N shared she was nervous to meet them all because of how much Harry talked about them, but he assured her they’d love her.

They settled on brunch together, which went as well as Harry expected. Y/N shared what she was studying, where she was from, and how sweet Harry was raised. His mother, Elise, was over the moon with her kind words. When Y/N excused herself to the restroom, his mum could not stop gushing about how perfect Y/N was for him. His sister, Aaliyah, was more challenging to win over. She seemed to think she could read everyone perfectly. It was her job as a lawyer, but sometimes Harry wanted her to simply be his sister. Y/N spent the breakfast sharing stories asking about Harry growing up. His stepfather shared his favorite memories of Harry growing up. How Aaliyah tried to always sell Harry away or ship him off in a box. It never worked, but she tried so hard.

It took a slight turn when the conversation shifted to Y/N’s family. “Has Harry met your family?” Aaliyah asked.

Y/N felt her hands begin to sweat, and as if he could sense her nerves, Harry reached down and intertwined her hand with his, letting them rest on her lap.

“No, uh, he hasn’t.”

Aaliyah frowned, “Now that doesn’t seem right. Are you ashamed of him?”

Y/N jumps back as if she had just been slapped. She knew his sister cared for him, but being accused of being ashamed of Harry was not something she ever wanted to happen. Y/N took a deep breath and decided to share the deepest parts of herself with Harry’s family, something she did not like to talk about and only mentioned to Harry, never giving him the whole story.

“My mum Isla passed away when I was ten. She was my hero and my biggest supporter. It’s not something you ever really heal from; grief lessens, but you’ll always miss them.” Y/N wanted to look away. The look of pity on their face was not something she wanted. “My—my dad loved my mum. He always said she was his other half, and well…when he lost her, it’s like we lost him too. My older brother is eight years older than me. So when my mum passed away, he was getting ready to leave for university. Once he left, he never came back. He calls on the occasional holiday but loves life in America.” Y/N is surprised she’s not crying yet but pushes on. “It’s hard living in a house when you’re the one who essentially raised yourself. Dad worked, came home and mourned, then went back to work. An endless cycle. I had family members try to help him, but they knew it would be better if I left.” Y/N could feel her hands shaking and her knee continuously bouncing, but she did it; she made it through her story. “Sorry if that was an overshare.” Y/N excuses herself, needing a minute.

She walks out front, and that’s when her tears fall.

“For fucks sake,” she groans, knowing tear stains are hard to hide.

“Y/N,” Harry calls for her softly. “Are you okay?”

Harry. Her sweet angel. Y/N’s sure her mum put him on her path because her love for him is something she’s never felt before, but it makes her feel whole. Y/N lets herself collapse in his arms, no longer caring about her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she mutters. “They must think I’m a mess.”

“Hey,” he says softly. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that.”

“It’s true,” she defends.

Harry lifts her head to have him look at her. “You don’t have to be perfect or have to have your life together. You just need to remember you’re not alone. You’ve got so many people that l–adore you.”

Y/N takes a moment to let it all sink in. Harry’s right. She’s simply overwhelmed and thankful to have him here.

“Is your family upset with me?”

“Not at all, baby,” he assures her. “I think Mum was reprimanding Aaliyah, actually.”

Y/N laughs at his excitement, “let's go back.”

“Are you sure?” He checks one final time.

“Mhm. Do you think your mum will share photos of you?”

“Only one way to find out,” Y/N let him lead the way as she felt her heart calm down, knowing she was in safe hands.

Y/N could not be prouder of Harry. He had passed all his exams with flying colors (Y/N did, too), all while getting promoted at work. It was a campus job that paid decently. He did it for the scholarship offered but had come to love his role in helping other students. Y/N had done well, too, but that didn’t matter to her, not when she wanted to celebrate Harry. She planned a special night out for him with all of their friends. Harry loved a good party, and she wanted to give him precisely that. She had told him to prepare for the night, claiming it was a surprise.

Harry didn’t think much, knowing her surprise ranged from a bouquet of flowers to getting dessert and the occasional new clothing she found for him. He didn't know what to expect tonight because when she showed up at his apartment in a little black dress, he was close to pulling her into his apartment and not letting her go. As good as that dress looked on Y/N, he knew it would look better on his bedroom floor. Harry noticed Y/N’s excitement and knew he couldn’t keep her locked up, but it did not stop him from pushing her up against the wall and happily messing up her lipstick.

Once he noticed it was getting hard to control himself when he pulled away. “Look beautiful, sweets.”

Y/N giggled, pressing a kiss to his stained lips. “Thank you.”

“Should we head out?” Harry asked, grabbing his coat and helping Y/N slip hers on.

“Mhm…”

The car ride was short, driving close to the university. He noticed they were outside the bar they come to for karaoke some nights. He loves belting out an Adele song from time to time. Y/N hurried out the door, her excitement unable to be contained. Y/N waited at the door for him, her hand outstretched for him to take. He kissed her wrist and gestured for her to go on.

Walking in, everything looked normal. People were sitting around at the tables, not a seat in sight at the bar. Y/N offered Grady, their favorite bartender, a wave. The crowd parted for Y/N as if she were an angel walking by. He was always mesmerized by how her presence caught the attention of everyone around her.

Y/N led them to the back room, which was reserved for large parties. Harry was confused; she had said the surprise was for him, but it didn’t make sense when there was nothing to celebrate. His birthday wasn’t until February, and she knew that. Made a clear point to add it to her calendar as Harry Styles’ Birthday with a yellow heart next to it. A simple gesture that made his heart skip a beat. When they entered the room, Harry noticed all their friends gathered around. Mitch was laughing with Niall while Sarah approached them with three drinks in hand. She quickly passed Harry a vodka cranberry while Y/N got Sprite.

“Your girl sure knows how to throw a party,” Sarah raises her glass in a cheer.

“I-I.” Harry has no words.

Sarah laughs. “Did you really not know? I thought she would have told you. Y/N was so excited she thought she might burst,” she teased.

Y/N smiles, leaning her head on Harry’s shoulder. “It’s for everyone,” Y/N reminds her.

Sarah clicks her tongue. “You said, and I quote, ‘Harry aced every exam. He had the highest grade in each class. It deserves to be celebrated.’ Or am I wrong?”

Y/N feels her face heat up because Sarah’s words are true. She said it because it was true. He deserves all his accomplishments to be celebrated, from acing an exam to turning in an exam. Uni isn’t always fun; if she can make good days for him, she feels like she did something good for someone she loves.

Harry excuses them, pulling them to the corner of the room. A few people try to get his attention, but he’s on a mission to get his girl alone. Harry corners her, his emerald eyes locked with her soft eyes. “You’re an angel,” he whispers. “What did I do to deserve you?”

Y/N has no answer because she feels the same way. “I feel the same way.”

“You didn’t have to do all of this,” he gestures around them.

She nods, “I wanted to. You deserve to be celebrated.”

Harry can no longer hold back. He connects his lips with hers. His hands settle on her waist while Y/N fists the front of his shirt. The passion was burning him; he craved the feeling. Y/N was lost in the feeling that she had forgotten they were in a room with their friends. She jumps back when she hears a loud holler and a yell of Harry’s name. Y/N lets her head fall on his chest, her cheeks burning while Harry tries to coax her to look at him.

“Y/N, love. You’re amazing.”

A large smile splits on her face; before Harry can kiss it away, Y/N holds his hand and pulls him to the dance floor, their drinks long forgotten.

“Let’s celebrate, baby!” Y/N shouts, laughing as Harry twirls her into him. Her laugh rings loud, and Harry knows she’s the best thing to ever happen to him. As Y/N dances in front of him, one thought rings loud in his head.

He is completely and utterly in love with Y/N.

Y/N didn’t enjoy her birthday, but it didn’t mean she didn’t celebrate her friend's special day. Frannie loved spending time with her friends, so with the help from Aurora, they planned a dinner party at Aurora’s shared apartment. They set up two long folding tables with chairs and pushed the couches back for extra space. Y/N decorated the apartment with streamers, balloons, and banners with the help of Harry, who got on the ladder for her when she couldn’t reach something.

The dinner was set for 5pm. Thankfully, Frannie’s birthday landed on a Saturday, so everyone will be free from uni for the week. Y/N had place cards made for everyone. Harry even had a little heart next to his name. He would be sitting right next to Y/N, with Mitch to his left. They were his two favorite people because while he was good at having Y/N’s attention, it seemed when she was in a large group of people, she always became the life of the party.

At 4:30, everyone began to arrive one by one. Aurora was set to get there at 5 with Frannie. They had told Frannie it would only be dinner with the three of them, but she was in for a big surprise. The door opened at 5:01, and everyone screamed, “Surprise!”

Frannie dropped the flowers she was holding in shock.

“You did this!” Frannie pointed at Y/N, who was leaning against Harry’s chest.

Y/N brushes her off, “it was all of us.”

Harry knew she didn’t like all the attention, yet Y/N always went out of her way to show everyone how much she loved and appreciated them. It made him wonder how her friends would celebrate Y/N this year. He knows he tried but sometimes never can’t measure up. He loves buying her flowers, always treats her to coffee, and gives her kisses tenfold because he knows it makes her smile.

He sees Frannie, gives her a tight hug, then settles down at the head of the table. Harry likes how easy conversation falls around him. He talks about a new album that recently came out with Mitch. Y/N jumps in, saying the closing song is her favorite. Sarah shared how the campus job is giving her 40 percent off on all merchandise, so send her a list of what they want.

Y/N rests her hand on Harry’s thigh as she slips into conversation with Aurora and Brandon, talking about the lab Aurora did earlier in the week. Y/N jumps in every few minutes to show she’s listening. Harry selfishly wants to pull her away, wanting her attention back on him.

Harry traces random shapes on her hand, letting Mitch talk his ear off as he picks at Y/N’s chipped nails. He makes a mental note of painting them for her tomorrow.

“I love you, Harry,” she whispers in his ear. A soft kiss is placed on his cheek as she goes to pull away. Harry reaches out and sets her in his lap, not caring that all their friends are watching.

“Say it again,” he begs in a husky voice.

“You've heard me say it before,” she giggled, thinking about their midnight walk when Harry confessed under the stars how he had fallen in love with her. Y/N kissed him, not needing him to beg her to say she loved him. She’d say it over and over again for as long as he asked. “I love you” had become his favorite phrase.

Y/N sits in his lap for a while; Harry knows she’s tired and close to falling asleep as he feels her settle deeper in his lap. She jolts up when Aurora asks for help with the main dish. Y/N kisses his lips, promising to be back quickly. Being at the apartment all day getting everything ready took a toll on her, and he knew that after eating, she would want to sleep for a long time, but Y/N would not leave because she would see it as rude. Harry composes an idea as dinner continues.

The meal is enjoyed, and he has the perfect idea when dessert is passed around. He feigns a yawn, making sure Y/N is watching him. He apologizes, giving her a brief kiss.

“Do you wanna go, H?” Y/N asks. “I know we’ve been here all day.”

He shakes his head, “no, you can stay.”

Y/N frowns, not liking that option at all. Harry has been staying over lately, and she’s gotten used to him in her bed. She debates on what to do because she knows cleaning up will be a bitch and would hate to leave it all to Aurora. Sarah notices her mood change and asks her what’s wrong.

“You alright?”

“Ready to call it a night, but worried about the mess,” Y/N looks around mentally, trying to see what she can throw out and save.

Sarah waves her off, “go home, babes.”

“But–”

“Nope. We’ve got this. You set up, we take down,” Sarah tells her like it’s obvious.

Y/N reaches forward, tugging her friend in for a hug. “You’re the best.”

Y/N begins to make her rounds, bidding goodnight, sharing her fair of I love you before landing at Harry’s side, her hand in his. Harry quietly thanks Sarah and walks out with his tired girlfriend. She sinks against him as they walk down the steps leading them to the street where they parked

“Remind me to never set up a party,” she groans as she throws herself into the passenger seat. Harry bites back a laugh instead, leans in, and helps Y/N buckle up. She gives him a tired grin. “You’re the best.”

“Do you want me to set up a bath for when I get you home?”

Y/N perks up. “Does that mean we’re going to yours?”

Harry has the bigger bathtub, so he knows what she’s asking. If he’ll be joining her. “Text Mitch to stay with Sarah.”

“Oh, are we using the citrus one?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Y/N sighs against her seat. “Oh, how I love you, Harry.”

Harry’s heart fills with warmth. This love is everything he’s ever wanted in life.

Y/N loved her friends. She loved seeing them smile, helping them out, and, most of all, celebrating them. All her friends took care of her, but Y/N always seemed to go above and beyond for each of them. It was something her Mumma taught her. “Give graciously because it will come back to you.” She likes to think it’s come back in ways she never imagined.

Brandon had always been an excellent friend to Y/N. He had her back when she failed her first exam. He held her hand when she got lost at the pumpkin patch the year prior. Y/N was thankful for everything he did, from helping her set up her first tattoo appointment to taking her to the mechanic and ensuring she wasn’t being ripped off. He was a good friend, and she wanted to celebrate this new opportunity that had opened up for him. He had started a new job in IT a few months back, and Y/N knew how much he enjoyed it. It was better than biology, but soon, his job offered him pay for his education under a different major: IT Security Protection. It was the easiest, yes, but the only problem was that he’d have to go to a college in the States. This was a celebration and an early goodbye because he wasn’t set to leave until the New Year.

This time, the event was at a club. Everyone was ready to let loose after a hard week, and the celebration was a perfect opportunity. Harry promised Y/N he’d watch after them, only limiting himself to two drinks and ordering them an Uber home when it was time to go. Except for the fact that Y/N was making sure her friends were enjoying themselves. It seemed Samantha got into some drama with Frannie, and they’ve been butting heads. Harry knows Y/N is a great mediator, but he wants Y/N to be able to go out without worrying about fixing problems. His girlfriend is heaven-sent, but he wants her friends to be there for her like she is for them.

Harry hoped they would prove it on the most important day for Y/N.

Harry takes note of all the grand gifts and events Y/N goes on to plan for her friends. It’s something he knows Y/N loves doing, but what does she get in return? Harry knows her birthday is soon and wonders what her friends have planned.

A few friends gathered to go out for drinks. Harry had not left his seat beside Y/N except to buy their drinks. Y/N leans in, kissing the corner of his mouth, promising she’d be gone a second, needing to use the restroom. Harry made sure she made it safely before getting everyone’s attention.

“What are you planning for Y/N’s birthday in a few weeks?” Harry asks, popping Y/N’s cherry from her Shirley Temple in his mouth. Y/N stated she hated them but always ordered extra because she knew Harry would eat them.

Aurora frowned, “What do you mean?”

“Her birthday. December 3rd. How do you want to celebrate? Was thinking of renting out the backroom of her favorite restaurant, inviting some friends, drinks all night, and cake. You know we’ve got to take care of her sweet tooth.”

“She doesn’t celebrate her birthday,” Frannie tells him.

Harry frowns; that doesn’t make sense. Y/N had told him all about how she celebrated with her mum when she was growing up. How her Mum would wake her up to breakfast in bed and slip in next to her, telling Y/N her favorite memories from when Y/N was an infant to her current age. It filled him with so much happiness that she got to experience it. That she had that much love in her life, and while he knows she has lost it in some way, it will always be with her. Frannie’s words ring over and over in his head.

Y/N never mentioned not being a fan of her birthday.

“What ya mean?” Harry needs a clear answer.

“She refuses to celebrate her birthday with us. It’s been like this since I met her, Harry,” Aurora tells him, but he’s not so convinced.

“Have you asked her? She’s got fond memories of her birthday, and if we let her stop celebrating, this day will mean nothing to her. Y/N makes all of you feel special every chance she gets, from celebrating graduations to the newest tattoos. You mean the world to her, but what does she mean to you?”

Harry is getting heated, so he excuses himself. He was going to find Y/N and hoped to convince her to let him take her home. He’s too frustrated to keep sitting at a table of their friends who refuse to do something kind for Y/N simply because she said she didn’t want to celebrate once a few years ago.

“H, honey? You okay?” Y/N asks, concerned when she finds him leaning against the wall beside the restroom.

“Got a headache, Sweets. Wanted to see if you wanted to stay, and I’ll suck it up to keep you company.”

Y/N is quick to disagree. “No, no. We’ll go back to yours. Let me take care of you.”

Harry loves his girl. She deserves the universe; if he can try to give it to her each day, he knows she will always feel loved.

Harry woke up bright early, under purple covers. Y/N curled up into his chest, almost her entire face hiding under the covers. He hated moving, knowing she might wake up with any wrong move, but he managed to settle her and went outside. He did his morning routine quickly, then headed to the kitchen, where he made sure he had everything for French toast, her absolute favorite meal last night.

While cooking the French toast, he ordered her iced vanilla oat milk latte to be delivered. He hated delivery fees, but today was a special occasion, and he would do anything to make her day memorable.

As he placed the French toast on a plate, Harry noticed the front door camera and hurried over before the person could knock. Harry received the drinks with a giant smile, giving the guy a ten-dollar bill in thanks. He found the tray Y/N told him she likes to use under the sink. He put the French toast and a cup of water on the tray. Grabbing the flowers, he rushed out to get up the street from Lady Silvie and her coffee.

He saw her beginning to stir, her hands moving around as if searching for him. His heart tightened in his chest at how much he loved her. Softly, he began to sing “Happy Birthday.” Y/N, in confusion, froze before shooting upright. Harry walked closer to the edge of the bed until he knelt on the corner, placing the tray over her lap.

Y/N’s eyes were filled with tears at the sweet gesture her boyfriend did for her. She mentioned her birthday in passing, hoping he wouldn’t remember, but her dear Harry remembers everything she has ever told him. She had told him stories of how she celebrated with her mum growing up, the only person Y/N has confided in since moving here. Not that she didn’t trust her other friends but because he was patient with her and broke down every single wall she had. Y/N had never felt she could truly be herself with anyone, and thenHarry came into her life. He helped her begin to love every part of herself.

“Happy Birthday, Sweet Y/N!”

Her tears break free.

She can’t even get a word out because her tears keep coming. Every birthday after her mum passed, she dreaded waking up. Most of the time, she slept the day away or treated it as any other day, but today, she woke up with a full heart as she woke up to her boyfriend singing. It’s something Y/N will always hold close to her heart.

Harry is her best friend, the other person who knows her inside out. With a single look he knows what she’s saying.

He crawled onto the bed, carefully moving the tray to avoid spilling anything, and pulled Y/N into his lap. It’s one of his favorite positions to be in.

“Happy tears?”

Y/N nods.

“I have a nice day planned for us. Are you up for it?” He asks softly, his hand rubbing circles in her back.

“You do?” She asks, surprised.

Harry chuckles, “of course, it’s my favorite person’s birthday.”

Y/N’s smile is bright. She lets Harry wipe away her tears and then gives him a chaste kiss. “I’m very lucky to have you in my life.”

They eat breakfast with Y/N in Harry’s lap as she feeds him bites of her fruit. It was very domestic and everything he looks forward to with his future with Y/N. Harry cleans breakfast, asking Y/N to meet him in the living room. She comes out, hair brushed and wearing his hoodie. He has a few gifts sitting on her coffee table.

Y/N jumps on the couch as she waits for Harry to give her the go-ahead with the presents. She opened her gifts and found items ranging from silk scrunchies to glitter bath bombs. Y/N thanks Harry with a kiss after each present. Harry hands her an envelope, promising it’s the last one. Y/N looks at him suspiciously but opens it slowly. It’s a piece of paper, and she can’t believe her eyes when she unfolds it.

She reads it again and again.

“Is this real?” Y/N inquires.

Harry laughs, “very much so.”

“You got us tickets to SZA,” she says slowly, as if she’s waiting for Harry to tell her it’s not real.

“It’s our favorite album. I-I thought it would be special. Something to look forward to,” he promised.

“I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry spends the rest of the morning showing Y/N how much he loves her.

After spending a lovely morning in bed, Harry convinced Y/N to get ready and took her to her favorite bookstore, where he helped her pick a few books from her “tbr,” of course paying for her. They took a stroll by the lake before deciding it was too cold. Then Y/N decided it was time for an early lunch, and they ate tacos from Y/N’s favorite restaurant.

It was a perfect day.

One that helps one final surprise for her.

Harry had requested that she put on her favorite dress and get ready. There was somewhere he wanted to take her.

Outside the restaurant, Y/N asked Harry what they were doing as she saw a full parking lot and a familiar car, but her gaze didn’t linger long as Harry captured her attention.

“Do you trust me?” Harry asked.

“With all my heart,” she answered without hesitation.

“Then follow me. No questions.” She took his outstretched hand and let him lead the way. Harry told the Hostess the name of his reservation and was told to go down the hall to the right.

Harry felt his heart pounding as they neared the door that would lead them to all of Y/N’s friends, who were ready to surprise her with a party. Something in him stopped a few steps away. Y/N frowned because something was wrong. Harry seemed like he was going to throw up.

“H, what’s wrong?”

Harry lets go of her hand and brings them to rest on her cheek, needing her sweet eyes on him. “I-I-I love you, Sweets. I love you so much. Behind that door are all your friends, ready to celebrate your birthday with you. Selfishly, I want to steal you away, but they’re excited to spend this day with you. If it’s too much and I crossed a line,” his voice cracked. “I apologize. So if you don’t want that, we can go right now.”

“You planned this,” she whispered.

Harry sighs, “yes, they told me not to, but you shower everyone with your love, and you deserve the same, if not more.”

Y/N feels her throat close up and knows she’s going to cry as soon as Harry leads them to the party.

She steps closer to him, with no space between them. Harry looks at her with so much love she knows he’s honestly her other half. Y/N pulls him down by the collar of his shirt and kisses him with everything she has. Y/N spills everything in the kiss. All her love wrapped in a kiss for Harry. He gives her back the same energy; both lost in the taste of each other don’t pull apart until they’re fighting for a breath. Y/N laughs against his mouth. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Harry kisses her again. “I love you, Sweets.”

“Let’s go in.”

He leads the way, knocking on the door three times, telling her that was the code for her arrival. Harry lets her in, and that’s when her friend's screams ring in her ears. Everyone Y/N considers a friend is here. The room has balloons and streamers around. There’s a cake that looks so yummy and a table full of presents all for her. Her friends stare at her with smiles. Y/N is so overwhelmed she doesn’t even know who to approach first. Aurora chooses for her, pulling her in for a tight hug.

”Happy Birthday, bestie!” Y/N laughs as Rora twirls her around. Rora pulls her back in, wiping away a tear rolling down her cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t try harder.”

Y/N shakes her head, “no, no.”

Rora brushes her off. “You’ve been there for me since I met you. I’m sorry I didn’t always do the same.”

Y/N appreciates her friend’s apology, but she was partly to blame. She never fully let anyone in, afraid they’d leave her just like everyone else, but Harry showed her that wasn’t the way to live.

“You’ve got a good one,” Aurora told Y/N, pointing at Harry, who was talking with Mitch and Brandon. As if he could feel his eyes on her, he turned around, sending her a dimpled smile.

“You okay?” He mouthed.

“Perfect.” She replied. She blew him a kiss and continued around the room, talking to her friends.

As the night continued, Harry ensured Y/N always had a drink in hand, whether a vodka cranberry, or water. He ate dinner with her and helped her cut the cake when she asked for his help. All the cameras were on her, and she had gotten overwhelmed. Harry slipped his hand on top of hers, and together, they cut Y/N’s slice of cake.

No one had left yet, but Y/N needed a breather, so she stepped onto the patio overlooking a beautiful lit-up forest. Y/N heard silent footsteps behind her. She turned around to find Harry with his coat in his hands.

“Don’t want you to get sick, my love.”

Y/N smiles, stepping close to him and letting him help her put it on. She was staring at Harry with so much adoration. She couldn’t believe how lucky she was to have him in her life. Y/N leaned in close. The music flowing out of the room had her wrapping her arms around his waist. His hands settled on her waist as he held her tight, that familiar feeling that if he didn’t hold tight enough, she might disappear.

Harry leaned his forehead against hers, letting each other fall in love all over again.

“This was the best birthday,” she whispered as they swayed to the music in the distance.

Harry lifted his hand, brushing a strand of hair back. “Just wait until next year,” he promised.

Y/N looked forward to it.

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littlestarlightseverywhere · 6 months

Text

Sunkissed

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: The inner circle goes on holiday and Azzie is just allllll over his girl <3

Warnings: None

Notes: Thank you so much for all the love on my last story!

Image Credit: Pinterest

“It’s my pleasure,” Helion smirked, addressing the crowd with his words yet focusing his eyes on her. His brown skin reflected golden in the sun, the white cloth of his draped garment seeming to glow with it.

“Ever the generous host you are, Helion,” She played along for fun, the nature– and limits– of their flirty yet friendly relationship barely a secret.

“I wouldn’t dare displease you,” Helion purred. “You shouldn’t want for anything here. Just say the words, darling, and I’ll personally take care of it.”

Azriel was not the jealous type. He knew the effect he had on her, even all this time, and knew even better the effect she still had on him. It was like no time had passed since they’d been newly mated. His skin flushed as he recalled that initial period, how love-drunk he’d been, truly sated for the first time in his life by her burning affection, having his fill of her taste, and touch, and beautiful mind yet never getting enough of it at the same time.

He was a fool when it came to her, his brothers knew it, she knew it, and Azriel himself would not deny it either.

Yet his skin tightened over his bones and his shirt collar constricted the base of his thick neck ever so slightly as he walked behind her, watching Helion’s eyes trace her form, catching at her collarbones. The thought of him, another male, trying to provide for her, meet her every need, giving her anything… Azriel’s blood boiled. That was his place. He watched as his mate laughed dismissively, unobservant of Helion’s intense gaze.

She was beautiful, charming, and witty. No one could deny it. Rhys did not make her his foreign advisor for no reason. Azriel was quite used to people staring and trying to win her affections, but usually it never bothered him. Because at the end of the day, it was his ears that heard her thoughts and secrets, his eyes that watched her take on the world with grace and strength, and it was his bed they shared every night. He felt secure in their bond and she only had eyes for him, despite the entire world trying to court her at any given moment.

Mor and Feyre shared an amused, knowing glance at each other, studying the three as Rhys took over the conversation.

Helion led the group to his private lake just behind his palace. He was gracious in allowing the Inner Circle to have their summer holiday at his place in the Day Court, granting them access to his entire estate and anything on it for as long as they wished. “There are no such things as debts or favors when it comes to friends,” he said when he offered the location to Rhys in the first place.

The lake was downright gorgeous. Velaris was beautiful, but the Sidra could not compare to the Day Court’s waters even on its best day, a truth Azriel had kept to himself and Cassian had no problem voicing to Rhys. Its turquoise waters stretched for miles and miles, the sandy floor, algae, and tiny native fish visible through the watery looking glass. The palace sat behind them, watching protectively over its best-kept secret, and a vast expanse of green mountains rose on either side, their jagged edges softened by the lush native trees and vegetation. They curved around the lake the same way the gold of a crown hugs its jewel, enclosing it tightly in its earthy palm. Flowers trailed from the balcony down to the beach, the mud and sand padding the rock where the water met the earth. Blankets and a large wicker picnic basket lay ready on the beach.

Mor grabbed her and Feyre in her either of hands and dragged them down to the beach in a giddy, childish run. Azriel’s guiding, protective hand that had been poised at the small of her back suddenly felt cold at the fingertips as she was whisked away, her warm skin no longer close enough to soothe his skin like a balm.

He watched as she shed her clothes, throwing them haphazardly across the blankets. She laughed as Mor threw her dress over the picnic basket and picked out the gold pins in her hair, one by one, letting them land where they wanted to.

Azriel’s cheeks burned and his heart hammered with desire as he watched her shimmy out of her clothing, exposing her soft skin to the touch of the sun. The two-piece swimming slip adorned her curves so perfectly, like the garment was in love with its wearer. He’d picked it out for her. Her hair caught the breeze like something out of a novel and he swore he could smell her soap on the breeze even from all the way over where he was. Everytime he looked at her he felt like he was taking her in for the first time all over again. Part of him almost wanted to turn away with how difficult he suddenly found it to breathe, but he reminded himself with giddy disbelief, she’s mine.

“Easy,” Cassian muttered with a smirk, scenting him.

Azriel cleared his throat and Rhys sent him a boyish smile while continuing his conversation with Helion. Nesta and Amren joined the girls getting ready to get into the water while Elain and Varian settled on the blankets, books in each of their laps.

Mor was the first in the water, squealing at the sensation of it, cold at first, but warming to a luxurious temperature almost immediately. She laced her fingers with Feyre’s and they immediately followed Mor, throwing their heads back and laughing.

She savored the feel of the water against her skin, letting herself melt into its grasp and flow, letting it spread her hair behind her back and thread its liquid fingers through her strands. She submerged herself, gliding through the water until she was further out than anyone else. She’d waited for this holiday even before she knew they were going. She adored swimming, but there weren’t too many spots to do so in Velaris. In the water like this, enveloped in the lapping, balmy embrace of its ripples, she was at peace. Squealing, she beckoned the rest of the girls towards her, waving to Azriel from where he stood smiling like an idiot at her on the beach. He was shirtless now, and her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him.

Azriel thought the sun complemented her skin, but in her eyes, it downright worshiped his. A glow even brighter than Helion’s overly-dramatic gold crown beamed from every inch of his body, tan and beautiful, broad and strong. She needed him in the water now.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a splash of water to her face. She gasped and laughed at the unexpected sensation, Mor and Feyre giggling like schoolgirls at their mischief.

Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel settled back into the blankets, supporting themselves with elbows that dug divots in the sand.

“Did you ever imagine this life for us?” Cassian asked his brothers as each of them watched their mates in the water.

They rarely got a holiday, and it was even more rare that they allowed themselves to take one if they had the time. Of course, it was Rhys that encouraged this outing in the first place. When Azriel and Amren refused, he required it, as their High Lord, to take the holiday with everyone else.

That wasn’t what convinced Azriel, though. It was his mate's excited chatter about the prospect of the holiday at Helion’s lake with all of their friends, getting to spend time with each other outside of Velaris, visiting another court without the prospect of war hovering over them, being able to swim for the first time in so long. She could hardly wait to feel the water on her skin, to feel the sun on her face, and to spend time with Azriel, experience a new place together. He couldn’t say no as he sat back on their bed and watched her try on her new swimming slips for him, as she packed their bags so early in advance because she could hardly wait.

No, Azriel would not take this vacation because of Rhys’ orders as High Lord of the Night Court, but because it made his soulmate so unbelievably happy. That was all the reason he needed.

Azriel shook his head. “I never would have expected it to be this good. Every day feels like I’m waking up in a dream when she’s next to me.”

His brothers could not even ridicule him for his uncharacteristic sappiness. None of them expected to have mates, let alone be so loved by them, when they were just three boys in a war camp deep in the Illyrian mountains. They did not dare to imagine anything about their future for fear of never seeing it. An rough-and-ready lordling and two bastards. What odds.

Life wasn’t always perfect– there would always be Hybern and their human sympathizers, and probably a hundred other things, to worry about. But with their loves in their lives and talks of starting families, they supposed it was as close to perfect as the Cauldron would allow.

The women spent some time in the water, swimming, splashing, lounging, and talking with their mates watching them as they talked amongst themselves. When they decided to get out to eat, Feyre challenged them all to a race.

“You’re going to regret that.”

Feyre raised her brows at Azriel’s mate, her closest friend out of them all, with mischief in her eyes. “Just because you’ve bested me in two other races doesn’t mean you’ll have this one too.”

“I think it does,” she smirked devilishly.

Feyre broke into a swim for the shore to the dismay of the other women. Amidst shouts of protest at Feyre’s unfair start, everyone else began their dash to the shore.

She sliced through the water like a knife through butter, already ahead of Mor, Nesta, and Amren, the latter of which refused to participate. Surpassing Feyre like a born nymph, she barely had to try as her body fell into the familiar motion of cutting through the soft waves of the lake until she felt the water shallow beneath her belly and she was able to stand.

The water swished at her ankles as her feet touched land once again, running up the beach. At the sight of Azriel waiting a little ways down with her towel in his hand, she all but forgot about the race. She ran toward him, blushing at his gaze. He immediately rolled the towel open and wrapped it around her as she ran into him, securing the towel with strong arms that wrapped around her body and swayed her gently with the momentum of her sprint. His strong presence was enough to halt her and she savored the feeling of his body at her back, his warmth seeping through he towel and caressing her water-frozen skin.

She was breathing deeply now, chest rising and falling under his arm. Azriel reveled in the thrum of her heart under his hold, willing it to ease.

Azriel nuzzled his nose into the crook of her neck and she giggled, ticklish and giddy at his proximity.

“Did you see the race, Az? I wooon,” she sang, reaching an arm out of the towel to hold his face behind her. She leaned back against his chest, craning her neck up to meet his eyes, eyes that were absolutely drunk on watching her high. She was naturally competitive, much like he was during his snowball fights with his brothers. Watching her in her element filled him with pride to an extent she would never fully know.

“I did, I’m so proud of you, honey,” he smiled, sliding one of his arms up until it was slung across her chest, connecting his lips with hers. She tasted like the water, sweet and fresh. Azriel couldn’t help himself as he grabbed her waist. It was like drinking from a fountain with an eternal thirst he couldn’t quench. More, more, more. He didn’t care who was around.

She pulled away, flustered. “You sure don’t mind putting on a show,” she turned around fully in his arms so that she was facing him now. The towel had fallen slightly, now hung loosely around the crooks of her elbows. Her wet hair fell in waves around her face and to him, she looked like a goddess of the water. He was barely religious, the furthest thing from it really, but he’d devote himself to her for nothing in return.

After the food had been brought out, the Inner Circle enjoyed the lunchtime feast of bread, wine, fruit, and meats. After everyone had eaten their fill, namely Cassian who was half passed out on his back, they lounged on the beach. Nesta nestled into Cassian’s broad side with her book, speaking to Elain quietly. Amren and Varian had rattled off somewhere right after they were done eating– insatiable those two were. Mor was laying on her back, facing the sun, catching a tan.

“I’m so happy we did this,” Feyre said softly, addressing the group. “It feels like lately our joy has come from short-lived bursts of happiness or quiet. I can’t tell you all what it means to me that we can have this time without preparing for the worst.”

Rhys rubbed a soothing thumb over her shoulder. Everyone raised their glasses to that.

Azriel leaned back into the sand, one arm folded under his head and the other extended as his mate rested her head on the inside of his bicep. Tired from swimming and full from their meal, she curled into his side, draping a leg across his.

“I’m so happy to be here with you,” She murmured into the side of his chest, peppering kisses there on his warm, tan skin. Azriel brought his arm around her, pulling her closer and resting a hand over her hip, enjoying the heat of her sun-kissed skin beneath it.

He rested his mouth at the top of his forehead as she drifted in and out of sleep. He was like her sleeping drug. Whenever they sat back together to watch a movie, read their books, or on nights in with their friends for some wine and card games, she could hardly stay awake beside him.

His heart swelled. She felt so comfortable around him that her guards collapsed to dust in his presence. She gave herself fully to him, to his care, and he wasn’t sure if he could hold her any tighter at that moment.

Helion came out to check on his guests. “Like a litter of babes, the lot of you,” He chuckled as he took in his friends, exhausted and full, lazing about his private beach. His eyes floated over to her, to her dozing form beside her mate, beautiful and soft. Peaceful. Azriel was aware of his gaze– he always was aware of anyone perceiving his mate. He only opened his book and continued skimming his fingers on her hips above the waistband of her swimsuit. She was blissfully unaware, half awake, half dreaming, lulled into a world of dreams and darkness by the steadiness of Azriel’s breath and light touch.

After the group of friends were well rested, everyone made their way into the water again. Cassian, Rhys, and Azriel raced out to the middle of the lake, Azriel the obvious winner and it wasn’t even close. Cassian batted a wave of water over Az with his wing in tantrum and Rhys only laughed until his stomach throbbed. They played chicken, Nesta on Cassian’s shoulders and she on Azriel’s. Mor wanted to pretend-play mermaids and they dragged the males in on their fun. They begrudgingly played along, yet were silently more than happy to oblige them. Nesta placed a crown of algae on Cassian’s head and he fully committed to his part as King of the Plankton. They floated on their backs, swam in circles, and splashed waves at each other.

Climbing the jagged, rocky cliffs on either side of the lake, they jumped off of their ledges into the water below, in flips and turns, nosedives and backflips. The setting sun cooled the water, a pink and purple sky above their heads melting into an inky blue that lined the horizon.

A perfect day.

Everyone grew tired again. From the beach music began to play. Light and upbeat, but beautiful and soft– distinctly Day Court.

Azriel gently grabbed her hand, leading her behind one of the cliffs they had jumped off of. It was the largest cliff jutting out of the lake and provided complete privacy when they were on the other side of it.

“I’ve been waiting to get you alone all day,” Azriel said, removing a hand from under the surface of the water and moving a lock of her hair behind her shoulder. He took in her tanned skin and sun-blushed shoulders and cheeks.

“All you had to do was ask,” She replied, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

Azriel’s self control snapped like a rubber band and he pushed his body through the water against her, pinning her to the rock behind them. His hand cradled the back of her head against the jagged cuts of the cliff. He needed more, but he paced himself, letting himself savor the feel of her skin under the water. Azriel ran his hand up and down the side of her stomach, his fingertips trailing the skin as he moved. Her skin pebbled in the wake of his touch, sending a shiver down her spine. Even in his frenzy he took his time. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer as he slanted his lips over hers, water sloshing between their bodies in whatever space was left.

She sighed into his mouth and it drove him crazy. Pressing her chest to his, she needed to be as close as could, within his very being if it was possible.

“If I could just crawl into your skin and live inside your heart I would,” She told him one drunken night when she’d gotten so trashed with Nesta and Mor that he needed to fly her back home rather than walk like they always did after a night out. Azriel never forgot those words, and everytime they kissed or hugged he was reminded of them with an intensity that made his chest squeeze.

“Az,” She whispered into his mouth. His hands lowered from her waist to her hips, thumbs skimming the waistband of her bottoms again.

She couldn’t get enough of him. No matter how much time passed, he drove her absolutely mad. They’d only stopped for air once they absolutely could not breathe anymore, and even then, Azriel didn’t pull too far away, needing to feel her breath on him.

“What has gotten into you today?” She laughed lightly, though definitely not complaining. It was not like him to be so risky, to be so passionate when they weren’t completely alone.

“I just love you,” was all he said.

Night fell over the Day Court slowly but surely. The day had gone on forever. By the time it was dark enough, some of Helion’s housekeepers started a bonfire and replenished the beach with more food and wine.

She laid down on the blankets again with Azriel beside her, propped up on his elbow and leaning on his side so he was looking directly down at her. Their legs were intertwined and they laughed and spoke softly, a bit away from the rest of the group.

Azriel’s free hand rested on the plane of her soft belly, listening more than he spoke. Of course he was a man of few words, but around her, he enjoyed letting her speak. It was one of his favorite things, learning more and more about the way her brilliant mind worked with the things she said.

With her thoughts, ideas, and opinions, he thought she was incredibly intelligent– the smartest person he knew. He learned so much from her eloquent tongue, adoration filling him from head to toe when she went on her tangents.

The first time she even went on one of her rants in front of him, even before the bond had snapped into place, she was flustered and apologized to Azriel. At the time, she didn’t know Azriel liked her back and dread filled her veins at the idea that she possibly scared him away for good. But he simply shook his head and encouraged her, asking questions and helping her carry the conversation when he felt it start to falter with her hesitation.

They rejoined their friends at some point– he couldn’t remember when, or how long they’d been lost in each other. When she said she wanted to go sit with everyone else for a bit, he agreed. He’d always follow her wherever she led, no questions asked. Back up the beach, up to their room, to the ends of the earth, even.

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ayyy-pee · 1 year

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Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x Female Reader

Summary: Every choice Satoru makes just seems to be digging himself into a deeper hole. But when it comes to you, he can’t seem to help himself.

Story Warning: Smut, Vaginal Sex, Toxic Behavior, Cheating, Protected Sex (wrap it up kids), Jealousy, Obsessive Behavior, Exes to Lovers (for a lil bit), Gojo is sprung on reader real bad, Dumb Stupid Idiot Satoru, Downbad Satoru

Gojo art by: Ilameys (used with permission)

Available to read on Ao3!

AN: Gojo has been eating my brain so I had to get something out. I've been obsessively listening to LIMBO by keshi and had it on repeat writing this (listen to it if you haven't!) Anyway, enjoy!

“Satoruuuuu,” an aggravating, whiny voice slurs. “Can you get me another drink pleaseeeee?”

“Hm? Oh, sure.”

Satoru rises from his seat on the couch, running his fingers through his silky white hair. He leaves his girlfriend to chat with her friends as he makes his way to the kitchen for yet another drink. Really, he should cut her off and take her home. She’s insufferable when she gets a drop of liquor in her, not that she’s any less annoying when she’s sober. All the whining, all the clinginess, all the slurring of his name as she wraps herself all around him. It used to be cute when they first started dating a year ago. Now it’s just suffocating. But Satoru sucks it up, though he’s not entirely sure why. Maybe because when she drinks, he doesn’t have to deal with actually trying to have a conversation with her. She’s a bit more tolerable after a few drinks. Annoying still, but less so.

He maneuvers through the crowd of the house party he’s currently attending. It’s packed, the scent of alcohol heavy in the air. Leave it to Suguru to go all out when he’s back in town. The guy invited practically everyone from their time in high school. Since arriving, Satoru’s already run into Mei Mei, Ino, Utahime (unfortunately) and surprisingly Nanami. There’s even students from the Ainu Technical School here. He had no idea Suguru even knew them.

Regardless, Satoru is happy to see everyone. He stops every so often to chat with old classmates as he wanders towards the kitchen. Everyone seems to be doing well for themselves since graduating high school, which Satoru is glad for. No matter how life went, he always wished everyone well.

And life was good for Satoru, too. At 26 years old, he certainly couldn’t complain about much. He’d graduated from high school, gone to college, had a hell of a great time during his undergrad career, got himself a well paying cushy sales job. And he had a girlfriend that he…had been with for awhile. Life couldn’t be better for him.

So why did it always feel like something was missing?

Satoru enters the enormous kitchen and makes a beeline to the assortment of drinks lined along the built-in bar. Of course Suguru has a built-in bar in his kitchen with an array of pre-made cocktails to choose from. Always such a great host when he’s not traveling to clean up celebrity messes for his PR firm.

“Satoru!” A man’s voice sings behind him as an arm slings across his shoulders.

“Haibara,” Satoru greets him. “Back for another drink?”

Satoru grabs one of the plastic party cups from the counter and pours one of the cocktails into it; something fruity and syrupy. He might’ve given it a try if the overwhelming smell of tequila didn’t burn his nostrils. He thinks of his girlfriend, knowing she will definitely feel like shit by the end of the night.

“Hm?” Haibara shakes his head, his raven hair whipping with the movement. “No way. One is enough for me. I have early practice tomorrow. Coach says my swing needs work, so not willing to fuck that up.” Ah right. Satoru had totally forgotten that Haibara played tennis professionally now. He nods, listening to his friend fill him in on what his plans for tomorrow are. Haibara’s wide brown eyes follow Satoru’s movements as he fills his cup. “You, though? I never see you drink at these things?”

Satoru shakes his head. “Not for me. For my girlfriend.”

Haibara’s signature, open-mouthed grin spreads wide across his face. “Oh! You’re still dating her? Wow. Good for you, man.”

Something about the surprise in Haibara’s tone takes Satoru aback, brows knitting at this. “Why’d you say it like that?”

Haibara crosses his arms, his smile melting away with a sigh. “I mean…” Haibara sighs your name quietly. “The two of you were together for a long time before you broke up after high school. We all thought you’d still be together, but if you could end that relationship, I’m just a little surprised you’re still with this one. That’s all. But if you’re happy...”

Just hearing your name on Haibara’s tongue has Satoru’s stomach twisting in knots. He hasn’t seen or spoken to you in years, something he’s been wanting to change for a long time but too cowardly to do so.

Satoru nods, giving Haibara a weak smile. He can admit that his girlfriend was…not the least bit interesting, annoying and did little for him. But he enjoyed her company sometimes.

“Just don’t be surprised if one of us leaves with Y/N tonight, though,” Haibara jokes, throwing his head back with an obnoxious chuckle.

What?

Satoru feels his heart leap into his throat as his crystalline eyes dart rapidly over every occupant in the kitchen, only seeing the familiar faces of his old classmates and a few strangers. There’s no sign of you. Maybe Haibara was just fucking with him.

Satoru laughs to save face, albeit awkwardly. “Funny,” he mutters, staring down into the drink meant for his current girlfriend, though now his thoughts are only occupied with you.

“Hey man, I need to get back to my girl, so I’ll catch you later,” Satoru tells his old friend.

“Yeah, later! Hey!” Haibara calls out to him and Satoru turns briefly. “Let’s get together to play some time!”

“Yeah, sure. Text me!” Satoru calls back, waving as he exits the kitchen. Unlikely, but he appreciates the effort.

Satoru shoulders through the crowd again, carefully holding onto the red cup in hand so it doesn't spill. He takes his time getting back, a new goal in mind: find you. Are you actually here? Or was Haibara just trying to mess with him? His heart pounds hard in his chest as he moves, eyes scanning every face he sees.

It’s been seven long years since Satoru last spoke to you - his first real crush, his first real girlfriend, his first time. His first everything. He wonders if you’ve thought about him at all in this time. He’d be surprised if you did. Things didn’t exactly end well between you two.

......

Seven Years Ago

You and Satoru dated all through high school. Satoru, a star athlete, played many sports and you supported him through them all, cheering for him at every game and helping him with his practice. You two were inseparable. If you weren’t at Satoru’s place, he was at yours. The love was deep between you two and a promise was made that you’d always be together.

But life didn’t always happen the way you wanted. The joy and excitement of being accepted into your dream schools did not last long when you realized you’d be going to school thousands of miles away and oceans apart. It was the first time a true test of your relationship was presented. Satoru was staying in Japan for college while you were headed overseas. Could your relationship survive the distance?

The first few months apart weren’t so bad. Satoru was making friends, excelling at school and becoming quite popular. You were also busy with your new life and hobbies. You made time for each other when you could. But it wasn’t enough. The loneliness Satoru felt without you was all consuming and it was only a matter of time before he found himself sending fewer texts, calling less, absorbed in the newness of college life.

Satoru loved you so much, but he wasn’t an idiot. He knew the likelihood of a long distance relationship surviving was slim regardless of who it was. It wasn’t for lack of trying, but the trying part was becoming more burdensome than he wanted.

And it wasn’t as though you had done anything wrong. This feeling Satoru was experiencing was all on him. You made the effort to keep in touch, to call when you could. And you still wanted it to work. But if Satoru were honest, he just wanted to enjoy his time in school without the constant worry of pleasing someone who he never saw unless it was behind a screen. It was selfish of him, but he wanted to have fun. This was a new world and he wanted to be free to explore it.

So he ended things.

He’ll never forget the quiet sobs on the other end of the phone as he sat in silence after uttering the words, “I don’t think this is going to work out anymore”.

His heart ached listening to your hushed pleas for him to not do this, to not end things this way. But it was for the best. In the long run, you’d be happier. He’d be happier and what was that corny saying again?

If you love something, set it free? Satoru thinks that’s what he did that day.

And you were so upset. Rightfully so. You loved Satoru. You were each other’s first kiss, first times before you left for college, first loves. You’d quite literally given everything to each other. But Satoru couldn’t commit to you anymore. He didn’t want to. He wanted to enjoy college, live his life. It may be selfish of him, but he didn’t see it that way. It was his chance to grow.

Even after all of your pleading, he stuck to his guns. It was torture, listening to you tearfully beg him not to do this to you. He had to end this.

So he told you he’d met someone else, that he couldn’t be with you anymore because there was another woman he wanted to be with. The stretch of silence was painful, Satoru quietly waiting to see if you had anything to add. The call ended with you hanging up in his face with only a choked sob as the last thing he’d heard.

Adjusting to life without you proved difficult at first. Satoru isn’t embarrassed to admit he moped around campus for a while before he was able to start trying to move on. After that, the next few months of college were great. Satoru was Mr. Popular, quickly rising to the top of his collegiate sports team. He was the life of any party he went to, the center of attention wherever he went.

Life should’ve felt perfect.

But as the months passed, Satoru found his mind occupied with the thought of you at the worst times.

While his professor discusses marketing strategies, Satoru’s mind wanders to you.

What are you doing right now?

When he’s at practice getting berated by the coach for poor blocking form, he knows he can’t tell him it’s because he’s distracted by the thought of you.

Who are you with?

When he’s giving another girl his number at a party, planning to hook up later, he pushes back the memory of the first time he’d spoken to you.

Where are you?

When he finds himself between another girl's legs that same night, he squeezes his eyes shut, picturing you and biting his tongue as he tries his best not to moan your name.

Do you still think about him?

The months soon stretch into a year and Satoru hopes this intense yearning he has for you will just fade away. He’s not so lucky. If anything, he thinks about you more. He checks your social media profiles to find you’ve removed him as a friend on everything. Of course you did. He ripped your heart in two. There was no way you’d allow him access back into your life. Your accounts are all private, so he can’t see anything and he’s not willing to ask a mutual friend about what you’ve been up to. It only makes him a little bit crazy that you’ve put up this wall between you two so he has no access to you.

Another six months pass and Satoru works up the nerve to text you for the first time since you’d broken up. He hopes you’ll reply. It’s been more than a year. You can’t possibly still be upset, can you? He can admit that he could have handled the way he ended things better, sure. But if he can get past it, you can too, right?

You never respond.

More months pass by and soon another year. One late night, Satoru slips into his apartment after a failed hookup. He pulls his phone out, scrolling through his contacts to find your name. You didn’t reply to his last text. He doubts you’ll respond to this one, but he takes a deep breath and shoots off a message to you before he changes his mind.

Days later, you finally respond. You chat for a while, sending messages back and forth. Generic things, really. Just catching up. Until one night Satoru musters up the courage to call you.

“Hello?” You answer. There’s soft music in the background and Satoru wonders what you’re up to. Are you home? Maybe you’re relaxing and the music is on for background noise. Or maybe you’re with someone, listening to music to set the mood. There’s an unpleasant twist that forms in his stomach at the thought.

“Hey,” he says easily, though he can barely hear your voice over the rapid pounding of his heart. “I figured a phone call may be easier than just texting. What are you doing?”

“Oh, yeah, that makes sense.” He hears you shuffling around, then the quiet click of a door closing as the music fades out. “I’m actually at a friends for dinner.”

A friend. He wants to ask more about your friend, but he knows he has no right to that information anymore.

“Sorry to interrupt your night,” he tells you, hoping his voice doesn’t betray how tense he is. His heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest.

“It’s fine. I have a couple minutes to spare.” You sound relaxed. Like speaking to Satoru doesn’t have the same effect on you as it does on him. Like talking to him is just like talking to anybody else. He knows it’s his own fault it’s this way, but it still stings. “Did you need something?”

You.

That’s what Satoru wants to say. More than anything, he wants to tell you that he wants you back, that he needs you back. He wants to tell you he made a mistake breaking up with you, that he’s so sorry. He wants to ask that you’ll please forgive him.

Satoru wants to say he regrets his decision to call it quits. Wants to admit that he should have made more of an effort to make it work out and not have been so fucking weak. He wants to tell you that if you’re willing to give it another try he is, too.

That’s what he wants.

Because after everything, he still l–

“Satoru?” You repeat your question and Satoru realizes he’s let the silence hang in the air between you both for far too long.

“Oh, I jus–”

“Babe? Dinner’s ready. Do you want any wine with yours?” A deep voice cuts through the quiet and Satoru feels his heart drop hearing someone else call you by the name that was once meant for only his use. He hears soft shuffling and hushed whispers and a “sorry, I thought you were off the phone, babe. You were quiet–”

He can tell you’ve muted your phone. He can’t hear anything anymore. The looming silence makes Satoru want to hang up on you so he can swallow the bitterness he feels. So you had moved on, found someone else who gets to treat you the way Satoru should have. It’s fair. It’s been years since you two had broken up. You’d barely started speaking again. Of course you would find someone new. You were perfect and anyone would be an idiot to let you go. Much like Satoru was.

His thumb lingers over the end call button on his screen…and then you’re back just before he presses it.

“Sorry about that,” you breathe. “Anyway, did you need something, Satoru?”

“That your friend?” Satoru asks, ignoring your question completely. He can’t even pretend it’s not because he wants to know who the hell was calling you ‘babe’.

You clear your throat. “No, ah…that’s my boyfriend,” you finally tell him.

The silence falls over you again for a few seconds, Satoru trying to find his words. Again, it’s fair for you to date someone else. Satoru had ended things. He lost his right to be jealous when he did. And yet, against his better judgment, he leans into the bitterness he felt moments ago, forcing out a laugh. “Good! Oh, that’s good for you. Glad you found someone.”

“...Thanks?”

Satoru hums. “Yeah. I mean, glad we both moved on. I was actually worried when I was calling that you’d still be hung up on me or something.” He winces, but laughs awkwardly again. Knows he just shot himself in the foot. Maybe you’ll just laugh it off, take it as a bad joke.

“Yeah.” Your voice is clipped, short. “Okay, well, it was great catching up with you, Satoru. I have to go now.”

Fuck fuck fuck.

“Got it. Well, have fun at your din–”

The line goes dead.

Satoru tosses his phone to the side, throws himself back on his bed with a groan.

“Idiot.”

You don’t return any more of his calls or texts.

......

Present

Satoru’s feet carry him through the crowd, conversation drifting through the air. He can hear Utahime yelling at Suguru and Satoru resists the damn near instinctual urge to turn towards the screeching so he can join Suguru in whatever antics set her off. It’s always funny seeing how red her face gets. He also hears the sounds of Shoko’s airy laugh as she catches up with Nanami and Ijichi. An odd group, he thinks, but Satoru doesn’t have time to dwell on it because he hears the sweet sound of your laugh and–

Wait.

He stops in his tracks, the drink in his hand sloshing with the abrupt halt. He turns his head to peer over the crowd, but he doesn’t see anything, doesn’t see you. Maybe his mind is playing tricks on him. There’s no way you’d actually be here. You’re overseas. At least, he thinks you may be overseas. That’s the last thing he knew about you for certain. Satoru’s not sure what you’re up to these days. He hasn’t asked, afraid of what the answer will be. He’s not sure he could handle knowing you’re potentially engaged or happily married. Hell, he’s not sure he could handle knowing if you’re dating someone.

His piercing blue gaze finally lands on you and he realizes Haibara was actually not joking about someone potentially leaving with you tonight. Because you’re right there, off to the side of the crowd with some man, giggling at whatever he’s saying.

Satoru knows it’s you, even from a distance. He couldn’t mistake those beautiful eyes for anyone else's, the way they crinkle ever so slightly in the corners when you smile. He could never mistake those luscious, glossed lips he loved to kiss. You’re all smiles, as stunning as he remembers.

Everything keeps moving as time seems to stand still only for Satoru, his eyes never leaving you. And he knows he’s at this party with someone else. That’s what he should be focused on, but you’re all he cares about right now. His gaze locks onto your lips, following the curve of your smile, the way your tongue darts out just a bit to run along your bottom lip, the way those lips form your words.

You may still hate him after all this time, but Satoru wants to talk to you. He almost wants to get just close enough for you to notice him. Maybe you’ll make the first move and talk to him.

‘What the fuck am I doing?’ He thinks, lips pursed in concentration.

He should get back to his actual girlfriend. He’s been gone for too long. She’s bound to come looking for him if he doesn’t get back to her soon. Yeah, he’ll just go back. Talking to you won’t be good for him anyway –

The man you’re speaking to leans forward, his lips moving to your ear and Satoru, with his eyes still glued to your lips, feels his blood boil as he watches them part with what he’s pretty sure is a sigh. When he sees your hand come up to lay on the other man’s arm, his nostrils flare with irritation. When you smirk at what the man is whispering, he feels his jaw tighten. And when the other man’s hand comes to land on your waist, Satoru’s feet move before he even realizes what he’s doing.

As he approaches, the man steps away, a slick grin on his face and you roll your eyes, shaking your head and giggling. Are you actually flirting with this guy? It’s only as he gets closer that Satoru can better make out who it is; poorly done bleach job, shitty eyeliner around his eyes, and too many ear piercings. It’s just Naoya Zenin. From what Satoru remembers, you hated that fucker all of high school.

Unless something’s changed and suddenly you’re into him? Is this who you’re dating now?

Satoru wants to be pissed, but this may work in his favor. If you could be on good terms with Naoya, who you absolutely despised for as long as you’d known him, then maybe you had room in your heart to forgive him for being such a piece of shit to you all those years ago.

Your eyes drift over to Satoru as he approaches you both. And you hardly react, only offering him a small smile before your attention drifts back to Naoya. And though a tiny curve of your lips is something, the lack of a reaction kind of annoys the shit out of him.

“Hey,” Satoru greets, mainly directed towards you because fuck Naoya.

“Hi, Satoru.” You fold your arms over your chest, eyes coming back to meet his. God, you’re as pretty as Satoru remembers you being. This close to you, Satoru can see how much you’ve changed. And time has been very good to you. You’re still beautiful in the youthful way Satoru remembers, but you’re grown now. His eyes trail down your frame quickly, drinking in the way you’ve filled out.

“Gojo…” Naoya says with clear disdain in his voice.

“Zenin.”

And it’s quiet now. Awkward. But it doesn’t matter to Satoru. His eyes are only on you.

You pull your gaze away from Satoru and back to Naoya.

“You look great,” Satoru tells you, sipping the drink meant for his girlfriend to keep himself from potentially following up with something stupid. He grimaces slightly at the taste before trying to cover it with a lopsided grin.

And you give him the same grin back, a little shy. It’s cute.

“Thanks, Satoru. You look good, too.”

“I didn’t know you were back in town.”

“Yeah, I’ve been back for a few months now. Just settling back in and working,” your brows knit together as you lean to the side to glance around Satoru. “I’m surprised Suguru didn’t tell you since I just had lunch with him like two days ago.”

He realizes you must be looking for Suguru when you straighten your stance again. Deep in his mind, Satoru makes a mental note to have a word with Suguru about this later. Next to him, Naoya snorts and Satoru has to resist saying something that will surely end with them in a fight. You must sense the tension because you ask Naoya if he can grab you a drink which prompts an eye roll from him, but he goes anyway.

“Doubt he’ll be back,” you mutter to Satoru with a smirk. “That asshole wants to hook up so bad it’s pathetic,” a soft chuckle rushes past your lips.

“Not interested, then?” Satoru jokes, a smile spread across his face.

You narrow your eyes, “Ha ha. You know I hate that guy. He won’t be back anyway. No way he’s gonna waste time getting a drink for someone who isn’t fucking him at the end of the night.”

If you weren’t still watching Naoya push his way through the crowd of partygoers, you may have seen Satoru visibly deflate.

“Ah, good to know you haven’t lowered your standards,” Satoru says and you laugh. The sound makes Satoru’s head spin. It’s been so long since he’s heard it.

“I don’t think my standards could ever be low enough to fuck Naoya,” you clarify, nose crinkling in disgust. Satoru chuckles at your reaction, watching as you shift uncomfortably before him. You fidget with the hem of your dress before you speak again.

“It’s actually really good to see you, Satoru.”

“Is it really?”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to reach out for a while. Life just got away from me.”

Satoru’s brows lift in surprise. “Reach out for what?” Your eyes are boring into his, wide and surveying, peering into his soul. Just the way they always did.

“I just felt like things left off on such a sour note with us. And you reached out trying to build a friendship and at the first sign of things getting weird, I just…ran. Didn’t look back. You were trying and I wasn’t. You didn’t deserve that.”

He knows you’re referring to the last time you’d spoken, though he’s not sure why you’re the one trying to apologize.

“And I just wanted to say I’m sorry for being a terrible friend to you.”

You always were way too sweet to him. He didn’t deserve that.

“I should be apologizing to you,” Satoru shakes his head. “I was still jealous back then. When I said I was worried you were still hung up on me, it’s because I was trying to cover up the fact that I was still hung up on you. Hearing your boyfriend call you babe–”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you interrupt, a soft smile gracing your features. Satoru smirks.

“Hearing your ex-boyfriend call you babe, it just…made me feel a lot of things I didn’t understand at the time. I shouldn’t have said what I did to set you off. I’m sorry.”

It’s only been a few minutes of you talking and it already feels like a weight has been lifted, like the wall you put up all those years ago has come down. You both must look strange, just standing off in the corner alone staring and smiling at each other like you’re the only two people in the room.

You talk a bit more, catch up on life. It doesn’t take long for things to feel comfortable between you two again - for your bodies to move a little closer, for your eyes to meet more often, for your shy touches to linger a little longer.

You’ve got your hand wrapped around Satoru’s forearm, snickering at something he’s said. And when you glance up at him, there’s something in your eyes telling him it’s okay to ask this. Because Satoru is happy to know you’re not interested in Naoya, even happier to know you’ve broken up with your college boyfriend, but what he wants to know now is –

“Are you seeing anyone? Dating, I mean,” He asks while he still has the nerve and tries not to let his eyes fall to your mouth when you shake your head and draw your lower lip between your teeth.

“Nope, single and just enjoying life honestly. You?”

Yes.

“Me?” Satoru asks.

Say yes, stupid.

You nod. “Yeah, you. Are you with someone?”

Yes. Yes.

“Uhh, well…”

YES.

The voice in his head is screaming the answer, the one he knows he should give you. The one that would confirm to Satoru that even after everything he’s done, he’s not a shitty person, not a terrible boyfriend. But when he looks at you, eyes shining up at him with those pretty lips curled into a smirk, he doesn’t want anything more than to be with you.

God, he’s such a piece of shit. He knows it. He’s not even thinking about his girlfriend still sitting around waiting for him to come back. He’s got tunnel vision and the only thing he sees is you.

Say yes!

“I…am not…with someone.”

......

The door to Suguru’s master bathroom slams shut, your back pressed against it as Satoru’s lips find your neck, licking a long strip from your collarbone up to your chin.

“Ah- Toru, the door. Lock the door,” you gasp, threading your fingers into his soft tresses to pull him down for a kiss. His fingers fumble around before he finds the lock, quickly turning before he breaks the kiss to focus on your neck again, kissing and sucking, marking anywhere he can. Your hands move to glide underneath his shirt, fingers grazing over his defined muscles and you sigh just as Satoru moves away from your neck to press his lips against yours.

Soft. So soft. It’s been so long since Satoru’s had you like this. He’d forgotten your taste, your smell and right now, it feels like he can’t get enough. Fuck the liquor, he’s drunk on you.

“Can I touch you?” Satoru breathes against your mouth. And you nod, kissing him again. He groans as your lips part, tongue slipping out to glide against his lips, seeking entry. And he obliges, gives you all the access you want as your tongues tangle together. You moan into his mouth, the sound shooting straight to his cock.

The dress you’re wearing is nice, simple but fits your body beautifully. Satoru can’t wait to get underneath it. He reaches down, pulling the hem of your dress up until it’s sitting at your waist. He slips his hand into your panties, hissing when he feels how soaked you are.

“So wet for me,” Satoru whispers into the kiss. “You want me that bad, baby?”

You nod, panting hard. “Yeah, so bad, Satoru,” you moan when his fingers glide through your slick fold, back arching off the door. “Fuck, I want you so bad.”

“I’m yours, baby.”

His lips crash into yours again, fingers working tight circles against your clit. You cry out, your hands balling into fists as you cling to Satoru’s shirt. He breaks the kiss, pressing his face into your neck as one of his fingers finds your entrance, plunging in slowly. Your mouth opens with a gasp as Satoru pumps into you, curling his finger until he finds your sweet spot.

He pulls back, watches your face as he slips another finger inside. He likes the way your legs shake when he turns his fingers a certain way. And the way your back arches off the door when he presses his thumb to your clit. It’s all new to him, these reactions you’re giving. You were a lot younger when you’d first become intimate. Now, it’s clear you’re much more experienced. The thought bothers and excites Satoru.

He pulls his fingers from your core, kissing you when you poke your lip out in a pout. And then he’s bending you over the bathroom sink, pushing your dress even higher before he slips his fingers in the waistband of your panties and pulls them down.

“Fuck, I never thought I’d see you like this again,” he groans, palming himself through his pants.

“Toru, stop wasting time and fuck me, please.”

You’re a lot more demanding now too, apparently. He doesn’t mind.

“Did you miss me?” Satoru asks, because he’s dying to know. Did you think about him when you were with your boyfriend? Were you trying not to cry out Satoru’s name when you fucked him? Did you want him back as much as he wanted you?

Satoru unbuttons his jeans, pulls his pants and boxers down together, hissing as his cock springs free. He’s so fucking hard, he could cum just looking at you bent over the sink like this. But Satoru wants to savor you, wants to enjoy this moment of having you again for the first time in so long. He reaches over and pulls open one of the bathroom drawers, fishing around until he finds a condom and he mentally thanks Suguru for always being prepared.

“Tell me,” he demands, wrapping a hand around his length. He strokes himself lazily as he rips the condom open. He rolls the condom down his length, lining himself up with your entrance. “Did you miss me?”

You’re so patient, waiting quietly for Satoru. Although, he can hear your breathing becoming a little harsher in anticipation. Satoru moves behind you, lines himself up with your entrance and just before he’s about to roll his hips forward, he glances up to see his reflection in the mirror with you bent over and ready for him.

“Look at me,” he says. You look up, watching him through the reflection. Even in the dim lighting of the bathroom, Satoru can see your pupils blown wide with lust matching his own. He wants to see you, wants to see your face when you take him for the first time in so long.

“Look at me,” he tells you again.

“Okay,” you breathe.

“Tell me you missed me,” Satoru quietly demands as he pushes forward, sliding the tip through your folds and sinking in slowly.

“Fuuuuuuck,” your mouth falls slack with a moan. Satoru’s hands find your waist, holding your curves as he sinks into you. “I missed you, Toru. So much, so fucking much.”

“God, baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to hear you say that.”

He’s halfway in and he has to stop to catch his breath because hearing you moan his name like that…He may not make it all the way in without blowing his load right into the condom. You’re suffocating him, clenching onto his cock so hard he’s almost afraid to move.

“Satoru, please. Don’t stop,” you plead. He meets your gaze in the mirror again, sees the way your eyes burn with desire. Satoru pulls his hips back until only his tip sits inside you and then he rolls his hips forward, burying himself as deep in your cunt as he can.

Your walls clench down on his cock and he moans again before he starts to move, pounding into you at an unrelenting pace. You cry out his name and he keeps moving, not letting up.

Satoru brings a hand around your neck, holding your head in place so he can look at you through the mirror. He sinks into you, bending down to kiss along your neck, your shoulders, your back as he bottoms out again and again, moaning his pleasure against you.

Satoru thinks you feel like heaven. It’s the only thing he can think when he leans back and grips on to your waist again, watching your face contort in ecstasy. Every little sound you make, every moan, every sigh, every “right there” you utter brings Satoru closer and closer to his release.

Satoru has missed you. He’s missed the way your skin feels against his, missed the way your breath hitches in your throat when his cock hits just the right spot, missed touching and grabbing the soft curves of your beautiful body. Missed how your ass bounces with each thrust, cheeks spreading just enough to give him a glimpse of that tight little hole he’s never gotten the chance to have. And god, he hopes no one else has either.

More than anything though, he’s missed the way you take all of him, hug him tight like you never want to let him go. Fuck, he could live inside you and never get tired of it. The thought alone, the thought of having you all to himself again has him leaning forward, moaning into the space between your shoulders as he rocks his hips against you. The loud smacking noises of Satoru’s groin meeting your ass echo throughout the bathroom, and he doesn’t care who hears.

“Fuuuck, how are you so fucking tight, still?” Satoru groans, reminiscing on the first time he’d ever had you. An out of body experience for him, personally. Truly unforgettable.

“I’m never letting you go again,” he grunts, feeling your walls begin to flutter around him.

“Toru, I’m close,” you whimper. “So close, Toru, don’t stop.”

“Cum for me baby,” Satoru groans, hand sliding down your side to find your center again. He rubs tight circles on your clit, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he feels your pussy squeeze down on him as you cry out his name, your release crashing over you.

It’s so tight, so fucking tight Satoru thinks he might pass out. He can’t breathe, can’t think, can’t fucking see straight, you’re gripping him so hard.

“Ah- fuck, oh fuck! I’m gonna cum. Baby, I’m gonna cum,” he grits out as he pushes his cock all the way inside you, thrusting as deep as he can go as hot spurts of cum fill the condom. He leans forward, pressing his forehead against your back as you both catch your breath.

Satoru meant what he said. He never wants to let you go. He has every intention of being with you. After you’ve both come down from your highs and cleaned up, Satoru kisses you gently. He watches as you turn back to the mirror. You’re even more beautiful as you tame your messy hair, fix your makeup and adjust your dress.

“Do you wanna get out of here?” He asks, ready to make up for years worth of lost time.

Your eyes meet in the mirror, your lips tilting with a small smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

......

Fingers laced, you and Satoru weave through the party together. The crowd seems to have thinned out now with how late it’s getting. It’s the perfect time to get out of here with you, take you home and –

“Satoru! There you are!” A familiar voice squeals. The sound makes Satoru quickly yank his hand from your grip. You stop in your tracks, brows furrowing as you look up at him.

“What’s the matter?” You ask just as this person you don’t know bounds up to him and wraps her arms around Satoru’s neck, pressing a sweet kiss to his cheek before she lets go.

And Satoru isn’t sure how he hasn’t noticed this before. It seems like some sick twist of fate that it’s only now that you’re standing next to each other that he sees how eerily similar you and his girlfriend look. It makes his stomach churn.

But his girlfriend, so drunk and so sweet, turns to you and beams as she holds out her hand to you. “Hi! I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Satoru’s girlfriend…” His stomach nearly drops into his ass. “...you are?”

God, he wishes he could teleport out of here. Or that the ground would open wide and swallow him whole, bury him 8,000 meters beneath the earth. Anything to avoid being present at this moment. He peers down at you briefly, your hand extending to shake his girlfriends for only a second. And Satoru thinks he may be imagining it, the sheer anger he can feel radiating off of your body, even as you return his girlfriend’s sweet smile.

“Satoru’s girlfriend?” You ask and he knows you’re making sure you aren’t hearing things. Because not too long ago, he told you he wasn’t tied down to anyone. “I wasn’t aware he was dating anyone.”

“Yep! Been together almost a year now,” she brags cheerily. Satoru really wishes she’d shut up for once in her damn life.

You breathe out a bitter laugh, gazing up at Satoru and he knows he’s not imagining the rage. He can see it swimming in your eyes even as you reach up, your thumb gently swiping the corner of his mouth where apparently remnants of your lip gloss remained. You hold your finger up to show him and then hold it up to show his girlfriend who five seconds ago was too drunk to notice. She seems to have sobered up quickly now, eyes focused on the lip gloss you just wiped from Satoru’s face.

You introduce yourself to her, wiping your thumb off on your dress before continuing, “And I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m the girl who just fucked your lying boyfriend in the bathroom.”

Satoru watches in ill disguised horror as you crane your next to the side, gesturing to the marks he so stupidly made along your neck in the heat of passion. His eyes find his girlfriend who stands there, mouth agape.

“Satoru told me he wasn’t seeing anyone. If I had known it wouldn’t have happened. And believe me, it won’t ever happen again.” You turn to face Satoru one last time, gritting out, “I can’t fucking believe you. After all these years, you’re still such a piece of shit, Satoru.”

You don’t wait for a response from him, turning on your heel and storming through the crowd. Satoru watches as your back retreats, not sure what the hell he’d say even if he did catch up to you. How could he explain that he lied about his girlfriend because he wanted to spend more time with you? It’s not like he planned on fucking in the bathroom, it just happened. But there was no way you were going to give him a second of your time to try and explain.

There was no coming back from this.

When he finally loses sight of you in the crowd, Satoru reluctantly brings his gaze back down to his probably soon to be ex-girlfriend and is met with a fury similar to yours. Again, the similarities are uncanny. All the love and happiness once shining in her eyes is nowhere to be found as one question hangs in the air between them.

“Satoru, what the fuck is she talking about?”

AN: OOF, let me know what you think!

Discord 18+ - Twitter - JJK Masterlist

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moonpascaltoo · 2 months

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╰┈➤18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all joel miller stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some with have summaries if provided <3

MASTERLIST • PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS • 05/04/24

𓆱 joel miller two

𓆱 joel miller three

𓆱 declined pt2 pt3 by @alltheirdamn

❀You're on a cross-country road trip when your tires blow, and you're forced to get them fixed at a small town mechanic shop. When your card declines, you only have one other option to get your car back.

𓆱a happy man by @psychedelic-ink

❀when your friend sets you up on a blind date, you had no idea how impactful it would be.

𓆱once again in your arms by @foli-vora

❀the day of the outbreak, reader and baby were in town and she couldnt call joel (or viceversa) cause the phone lines were down. they were separated for a few years until they arrives at the quarantine zone he's in, and he recognizes them in the crowd.

𓆱invisible sting by @quin-ns

❀ bill and frank host. tess is jealous. joel is confronted with his feelings. you cry over a shower

𓆱snowflakes, a fireplace, and you by @swiftispunk

❀you get more than you bargained for when you end up snowed in at miller's inn on christmas eve.

𓆱 seams by @fuckyeahdindjarin

❀seamstress!reader

𓆱 joel drabble by @suzdin

𓆱 @auteurdelabre

❀ as long as you want pt2

- When you're injured in the stables one morning your patrol partner and enemy Joel Miller is the only one there to help.

𓆱 @stylesispunk

❀ the not so invisible string

- you and Joel were made right for each other in the wrong time. Now, thirteen years later your paths crossed when both of your daughters get in trouble at school. Would be the right time for you now?

❀ i couldn’t want you anymore

- when Sarah's mom came back into Joel's life to fight for their past relationship, Joel needs to convince he is in a happy relationship with the florist next to his gallery in order to make her go away. The problem is, he and the florist can't stand each other's guts or that it's what he thinks.

𓆱 the falling pt2 pt3 by @getitoutofmymindwrites

❀you catch Joel cheating on you. The world comes crushing down.

𓆱 greener memories of better men by @netherfeildren

❀Best Story of the Day! South Austin elementary school started a “Breakfast With Dads” program but many dads couldn’t make it and several students didn’t have father figures. The school posted fliers at the local YMCA’s for 50 volunteer fathers… 600 different people from all backgrounds showed up…

𓆱 jealous by @eufezco

❀you’re a little jealous of tess.

𓆱 soft sweet by @cavillscurls

❀You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.

𓆱 5+1 by @bluebeary-jay

❀5 times you wanted to kiss Joel, and 1 time it actually happened

𓆱 needs by @toxicanonymity

❀Joel wants to find a bed before you go all the way, but neither of you can wait that long.

𓆱 wildflower and barely by @yellowharrington

❀after deciding to change your age range on a dating app in hope of a change of scenery, you stumble across joel miller.

𓆱 arms tonite by @motherjoel

❀basically its YOU who gets stabbed by the baseball bat. joel isnt good with feelings. david does not exist david cant hurt anybody. a bit of angst and a bit of fluff. also LOOSELY based on arms tonite by mother mother

𓆱 don’t take the girl by @alt-vera

❀when faced with a life-threatening choice, joel miller makes a surprising confession.

𓆱 feels so right by @fake-bleach

❀Your college boyfriend's a dick, and it doesn't help that he dragged you along with him to a bar just to treat you like shit. You plan on catching a ride home after an incident between you two, but turns out that your dad's best friend's there too, and he saw everything. He ends up offering you a ride instead, but there's no promises that you make it back home for the night.

𓆱 sweetheart by @dustydaddyyy

❀you're home from college for summer '99 to visit your parents, when your eye wanders upon their next-door neighbor, joel miller.

𓆱 honey stained hands by @undercoverpena

❀He knew what Jackson was when he arrived the second time. A communal, a place where everyone chips in. It's why he doesn't turn his nose up when he's given menial tasks. One of which, is fixing his neighbour's porch. His neighbour, who is pretty and smiles too sweetly, bakes cakes for special birthdays, and stares at the toolbox he's been given with a haunted look, one which raises more questions than answers.

𓆱 @joelscruff

❀softdom joel

-a collection of important moments between you and joel miller, your grumpy new patrol partner in jackson, wyoming.

❀one thing im missing

-you and joel accidentally end up falling asleep together, and what follows is the beginning of a quiet and tender relationship neither of you saw coming.

𓆱 @punkshort

❀somewhere to run

-You move to a small town in the middle of Texas to escape your past and start over. You don't expect to fall for the town's handsome sheriff.

❀i hate when you’re right

-After a heated argument with Joel, you finally convince him into leaving Jackson so you could explore a store for new clothes, and what happens could change your life forever.

𓆱 @eupheme

❀ in the woods somewhere

-When a break-in startles you awake, it’s hard not to assume the worst. But when the thief is revealed to be a teenager just trying to help her wounded guardian - you find your heart softening.

❀ are you mine?

-A change in your usual patrol schedule, a dash of over-protectiveness, and a gossipy partner leads to you desperately wish you could turn back time

𓆱 @gutsby

❀ hating game

-Celebrating your dad’s birthday at the yacht club becomes damn near unbearable when Joel Miller brings a date along too. Jealousy and hate sex ensue.

❀ abstaining game

-The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

❀ wingman

- Your bestie braves the tampon aisle for you.

𓆱 kiss to kiss by @jobean12-blog

❀Joel is grumpier than usual and the only way to make it better is YOU.

hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3

#joel miller #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller series #joel miller oneshot #joel miller angst #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal #joel miller masterlist #jm masterlist

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yanderes-galore · 13 days

Note

Can I request a short scenario about Gojo falling in love with Sukuna’s favorite lover? They got unsealed first & was discovered by Gojo. Darling tried to escape one problem only to acquire an even worse one

Darling is gender neutral and it’s Romantic Yandere Gojo

~Anon~

The plot was a bit complicated yet vague so I hope the idea I came up with works ^^; I don't know much about the Heian Era so I am guessing. AU where Jujutsu High is actually Jujutsu University for the sake of ages and plot.

This deviates from the request a bit but I hope you enjoy it anyways :) The end is a bit butchered as I had no ideas :( The yandere behavior is vaguely implied, I wish this was executed better but I was working with what I had. Constructive feedback is appreciated.

Possible Manga Spoilers, Please read with caution.

One Long Century

Yandere! Satoru Gojo Story (Ft. Sukuna)

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Violence, Possessive behavior, Slight rivalry themes, Jealousy, Stalking, Darling hates relationships, Themes of toxicity in relationships, Delusional behavior, Forced relationship.

The Heian Era was known as a legendary time for Jujutsu Sorcerers. After all, this era was where Sukuna and Kenjaku originated from. Speaking of which, there was another Sorcerer that history recorded who dealt with these two.

You were Sukuna's favorite lover, out of all the partners the King of Curses had, you were his best. You were experienced in utilizing Curse energy, which made you a favorite. However, you never wanted to be tied to the monster.

Sukuna took you as a partner due to your abilities as a Sorcerer. While you were originally his enemy, he broke you in due to his strength. You were never stronger than him but he liked your potential. Truthfully, your plan was to die trying to take him out.

You never got such an easy fate.

No, instead Sukuna contacted Kenjaku to speak of immortality. You understood Sukuna wished to live forever, but you fully expected to die here. Unfortunately... Sukuna didn't want to waste such a good partner.

"Make them a cursed object, too. I want them to follow me eternally."

You were never like Sukuna. No, your morals were more pure than his. You had the morals of more modern Jujutsu Sorcerers.

Protect the weak... For you are strong.

Against your will you were made into a sealed cursed object. You reluctantly lay in wait for a time where you can awaken. With the body of a host... you can be reborn.

Even if you didn't wish it.

---

For a century your cursed object was passed around and stored. Legends and rumors told of your relationship with the King of Curses. It was often said that you could calm the King of Curses if things ever got out of hand.

Eventually, like some of Sukuna's fingers, you found your way into the protection of Jujutsu University in their Cursed Warehouse.

You weren't chosen to be reborn until enough of Sukuna's fingers were collected. Higher-ups realized that if something goes wrong they should have you ready. Which lead to a host being chosen...

And you being reborn.

It felt... strange to be reborn in the modern age. Everything was so different, from the amount of Sorcerers to even the clothes and buildings. You were brought back for a reason it seemed.

You feel like you're being judged.

You can't blame these modern Sorcerers for suspecting you. Sukuna was known for sadism and being known as his favorite lover didn't help. However, you did your best to prove your true allegiance.

Any side fighting Sukuna works for you.

You didn't meet Satoru Gojo until you were allowed to be "used". Their wording disturbed you, yet you try not to judge in turn. They have their reasons to be worried.

Unfortunately... meeting Satoru Gojo comes with reuniting with... Sukuna.

You were told that Sukuna had taken host in a student named Yuji Itadori. Satoru Gojo was given the job of being his teacher and being a handler. Your job?

Stick by them both... and keep Sukuna under control.

You loathed the idea... but you hated the idea of Sukuna going unchecked more. As a result, you comply with the order. This makes you part of Gojo's group.

It also gets you involved with Gojo and Sukuna... the blights of your life.

---

As expected, being in the group started uncomfortable for you. Gojo was curious of an ancient Sorcerer such as you. One who wasn't malevolent... but kept alive for some reason.

Admittedly you weren't as strong as Gojo... but you were up there.

You then met the younger students who accompanied him. Yuji (Sukuna's vessel, according to your intel), Nobara, and Megumi. They were all quite interesting and powerful in their own right... and over time you found yourself attached to them.

Then there was Sukuna, the King of Curses and your supposed lover. He festered within Yuji, much to your disgust. You dreaded whenever he took control.

You could never have a normal conversation with Yuji without Sukuna popping in to taunt you. He was unfortunately still flirtatious, seeing you as his lover. He didn't care if you hated him... just like all those years ago.

You wished you could just stay enemies with him.

You wished you weren't brought back.

Arguments often occurred between you and Sukuna. It was usually verbal as Gojo was around to prevent physical fights. For the sake of everyone around you.

Speaking of Gojo, you often spoke with him. You both often acted as mentors and guardians to your group. Originally, the air between you was tense.

Then Gojo realized he could get along with a strong Sorcerer such as you from ancient times.

You don't mind Gojo at first. He helps you adapt to modern times now that you're able to be out and about around other people. You two even bond well in battle against Curses.

Sukuna often mocks the fact Gojo is so close to you. The King of Curses is still possessive of his remaining lover. You often hear Sukuna vowing to take you back once he takes full control of his vessel, Yuji.

You plan on preventing that with Gojo.

You help Gojo train his students. For the most part you stay out of the way of other activities unless it's Sukuna related. Occasionally you even help with Kenjaku issues once those become known.

Soon months begin to pass and Gojo grows more... intrigued. He knew attachments could be dangerous, especially with an individual as mysterious as you. However...

It didn't stop Gojo from falling for someone he shouldn't have.

Gojo's obsession with you doesn't go unnoticed by Sukuna. In fact, he often acts out more around Gojo. Which leads to more work for you.

You begin to notice things when Gojo leaves your side less. He often excuses his actions as the higher-ups just wanting to keep you monitored. You believe it since Gojo is technically monitoring two dangerous Sorcerers.

In reality, Gojo can't keep his eyes off you.

He originally didn't want to think of the idea of being in love with you. Yet despite the difference in your eras and origins, Gojo still managed to be playful and interested in you. You even played along.

If anyone was worthy of Satoru Gojo...

It was you.

---

Gojo is really your only guide to getting around this new age. You have power, but without him you could've been misguided. At least, Gojo seems to think so.

As you work with Jujutsu University, Gojo only seems to grow closer to you. He often asks how you manage to get Sukuna under control and what you've learned throughout the ages. If anything, you're the most valuable asset he and the rest of the Sorcerers has other than Yuji/Sukuna himself.

Gojo's strange behavior doesn't get better as you work with him. It perplexes you. After all, you aren't that much of a threat. So why is he so close at all times?

If only you knew the true extent to his feelings.

You haven't thought much of romantic relationships due to your circumstances. After all, Sukuna is still around and he's turned you off to such relationships. Which is why it disturbs you when you notice Gojo's... obsession.

It's fitting that the strongest craves the strong, no matter how forbidden it is.

However, when you see the signs, you're reminded of how you were treated all those years ago. The possessive glares, then hostility towards those who don't accept you... it's familiar.

Gojo's much nicer and more playful than Sukuna...

But it appears they're both their own type of monster.

Whenever Gojo pulls you into an embrace, you shove him away. Whenever he playfully teases you, you go cold. You don't wish to be trapped again....

Yet Gojo never stops to consider his actions....

His hold on you is always tight. His confession for you was rather sudden once he did say it. When you tried to refuse, his behavior didn't change.

In fact he only seemed more violent towards those you fought against... Including Sukuna.

"We're good partners, aren't we?" He asked you, a smile on his face. "So wouldn't we be good... romantically?"

You hate that you still persist even now.

Even now, when you just want to rest, Gojo's there. You begin to dislike company of any type by this point. Yet you're forced to endure as a Jujutsu Sorcerer.

Originally you could deal with him being overly affectionate. The hugs were even originally comforting. You kept telling him you didn't like him romantically, but he seemed to ignore such a thought. You were tired of him constantly being by your side no matter where you go.

Although, snapping would only bring you trouble.

If you snapped, the higher-ups would order you exorcised and their control over Sukuna would falter. That or Gojo himself would seal you so you're harmless. As much as you hated it...

A century ago you told yourself serving Sukuna was your duty. Now, in modern times, you tell yourself that serving alongside Gojo is your duty. It didn't matter what happened as long as the weak were protected....

It was once again your duty to please.

Gojo was so focused on you two being strong together, he never thought about what you think. In his eyes, the strong belong together. No matter what.

Instead of piercing red eyes, you're met with glowing blue ones. Instead of the King of Curses, it's the strongest Jujutsu Sorcerer. There may be differences...

But in the end you're still left with a monster...

A monster that has so much more power over you... A monster that claims to love you... Just to take everything you have all over again.

A long century has passed... and nothing has changed.

"We'll be unstoppable, won't we, baby?"

#yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #yandere satoru gojo #yandere gojo

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devildom-moss · 4 months

Text

January poll story

NSFW - Barbatos x MC - Nightbringer AU + monsterfucker + breeding + ovipositor kink

(Barbatos x gn!MC)

(NSFW) (plot heavy) (dom!top!Barbatos / bottom!sub!MC) (monsterfucker; breeding; ovipos/eggs; slight degredation and humiliation; but mostly praise; oral - receiving; penetration - receiving; two dicks; aphrodisiac-like effects; overstimulation; slight dacryphillia/tears; slight dubcon at the beginning; cheating adjacent?; mentions of aftercare) (no body specification for MC, and yes I made it work so he can breed any body) (Barbatos as Nightbringer + AU) (kinda fucked up plot)

Word Count: +5,000 (new longest single character fic. Sorry? Why does this happen when I write monster Barbs)

A bittersweet pang struck your chest when you received an invitation to the Demon Lord’s castle directly from Barbatos. Even the way he had phrased the invite was reminiscent of future Barbatos – the demon who adored you. When you were sent back to the past, your relationship began anew, and you were forced to face him while craving the loving affection you had worked so hard to earn. Deep in the pit of your stomach, a nagging guilt bit at you every time you were around this past Barbatos, wishing for an unbecomingly familiar show of affection. You knew you would return to the future someday, and you were certain you wouldn’t be able to make him fall in love with you before you left. Was it so awful to want him to pull you into a quiet hall and kiss you to breathlessness before returning to his duties? Were you really as monstrous as your guilt believed for wishing this version of Barbatos would need you so desperately that he milked every second he could spare just to sate his desire for you?

All the lust and love that you had quelled came back, overflowing, when your D.D.D. buzzed last night while you were preparing dinner. Solomon had been so kind as to leave the kitchen and allow you to cook in peace. Barbatos’s name, accompanied affectionately – and delusionally – by a green heart, appeared on the screen.

Barbatos: Good evening, MC. I was wondering if you would do me the honor of visiting the castle tomorrow. The Young Master is set to attend an overnight party hosted by the House of Lords. I was not permitted to accompany him this time. He’ll be gone for nearly three days with the travel. It’s been ages since I’ve been apart from him for so long. The thought of it makes me anxious. Your presence seems to put me at ease. As such, I would appreciate your company if you could spare some time for me. I eagerly await your response.

Your heart swelled as you stared down at your phone. He wanted to see you. It almost sounded romantic. Your gushing was interrupted by the hiss of evaporating liquid; your pot boiled over.

“Shit!” You shoved your phone into your pocket and rushed to the stove. Everything was fine, but you sighed at the mess you were going to have to clean – and you couldn’t do that until you changed burners and allowed the dirty one to cool.

It wasn’t until you had finished cooking and went to message Solomon that dinner was ready, unlocking your D.D.D. only to see your chat with Barbatos, that you remembered: you never replied! Solomon could wait the one minute it took for you to respond to Barbatos.

MC: Sorry! I had some kitchen trouble, but it’s fine now. I would love to see you.

Barbatos: Excellent. I will see the Young Master off at 7am. You are welcome to come by any time after that. I look forward to it.

You arrived at the castle that afternoon, anxiously wondering how you would interact with Barbatos. You hadn’t spent much time alone with him, and you weren’t as close as you were in the future. Maybe this version of Barbatos was slightly different than the one you knew, and you wouldn’t mind getting to know him better, but to him, you were practically a stranger. Every intimate detail you had shared was resting in his mind, millennia from now. Still, you wanted to be around him, so you were determined to find some way to enjoy your day. Maybe you could bake together like old – well, future – times.

“Good afternoon. I’m so pleased you could make it,” Barbatos greeted you at the door with a grin, stepping aside to let you in. “I apologize for the late notice. I didn’t interrupt any plans, did I?”

“Not at all. My day was clear – and even if it wasn’t I –” you stopped yourself short. You wanted to tell him that you would have cleared it just for him, but that seemed far too intimate for your current relationship.

“If it wasn’t?” Barbatos urged you to continue.

“I –” you tried again, “It isn’t often that I get invited to the castle. I would have made the time.”

“How kind of you.” Barbatos chuckled, covering his smile in that shy manner you had come to adore. “Would you be so kind as to follow me as I finish up my rounds? I’d like to ensure everything is in order before I can devote my full attention to you.”

His words made your heart race, reviving some long-deceased hope that he would fall for you in this timeline. Perhaps the future had a much stronger impact on the past than you expected it to. Your face felt warm as you nodded.

Barbatos walked along side you at a leisurely pace, only taking a step ahead to guide you in one direction or the other and to open doors for you. He maintained polite chatter, mostly asking about your week. You hadn’t been walking very long before you realized you were heading deeper into the castle – namely towards the labyrinth. Even in the future, you rarely went near it, so as you got closer, the castle looked increasingly unfamiliar. You wondered if the rumors about the torture chamber below the castle had formed already or if those claims would come later. It felt eerie to head towards them now, but you figured it was part of Barbatos’s duty to check them during his rounds.

You continued through dark, stony halls – lit only by the dim candlelight from the sconces lining the walls. It seemed that the flames gradually appeared as you walked ahead. Had you bothered to look back, you would have also seen them fade behind you, leaving the dim corridor in pitch-black darkness. The creepy atmosphere was getting to you, and you inched closer to Barbatos. His smile widened slightly, but he didn’t comment.

“Do you go down here every day?” you asked him nervously.

“No, not usually, but I haven’t checked the labyrinth in a while. It’s necessary to monitor the candle levels and keep an eye out for leaks or potential . . . pests. I figured now was as good of a time as any. It can be a boring walk by myself.”

A large iron door stood at the end of the hall – one which seemed to require magic from Barbatos before it would open. He ushered you into a room, lined with iron-barred cells. As he shut the door behind him, you scanned your surroundings. There were no other visible doors – no clear point of exit. You turned back to look at Barbatos, confused.

“Why did you close the door?”

Before you could get an answer, Barbatos pushed you against the cool stone wall, holding you still from behind. One gloved hand grabbed your wrist while the other snaked up your neck seductively. The sensation reminded you of when Barbatos would get desperate for your body – how his greed would take over until his hands were wandering over you like some horrifying colonial effort, ready to claim you no matter the cost. Had you not loved him, or he not loved you, that greed might have terrified you.

“I know why you’re here,” Barbatos whispered in your ear.

You were confused and suddenly afraid. The realization hit you again: this was not your Barbatos. He might be suspicious of you, and that made him dangerous. Although you had seemingly gotten along well with him so far, especially during the preparations for RAD’s opening, there was a chance that he harbored doubts about your presence in the Devildom. This version of Barbatos could kill you.

“Please,” you whispered, afraid – although you weren’t certain what you were asking of him. He shifted into his demon form, still holding you firm in his hands. His breath burned on your neck. Your fear eased as you felt his tail slither up one of your legs and caress between them, leaving a slick trail over your clothes, but the confusion remained.

Did he want you? If so, he was so much harder to charm in the future. Was this what you had been hoping for? He was rougher than the Barbatos you knew – that much was evident in the tight grip he had around your wrist.

“We’ve met in the future, darling. And from what I’ve deduced, you’re so important to me that you could make me want for more,” Barbatos spoke, letting the words tingle on your skin. You shivered and turned your head slightly to meet his gaze. His hand slid away from your neck, and he bit his glove, tugging it off before discarding it on the cobblestone floor. That warm, bare hand slipped under your shirt, feeling your heart pound in your chest as his tail continued to tease you through your clothes. With a chuckle, Barbatos licked up your neck, flicking your earlobe with his tongue before pulling away. It felt hotter than usual, and your skin burned where his saliva began to dry. You moaned, earning a satisfied hum from Barbatos. “It feels good, doesn’t it? He gave us a century before my decision – how generous. It seems I learned to calm my urges a good deal over the years, but he forgets himself – myself,that is. I’m not the patient man you know. I don’t need a century to decide to claim you.”

“I don’t understand,” you spoke through gritted teeth, trying to hold back your moans. Nothing he said made sense, and it took every bit of restraint to focus on him instead of the pleasure he inflicted upon you.

“About a century from now, I secretly cemented my commitment to Lord Diavolo. I made it so nothing in the world could take my attention from my master. It seems that you, my dear, have convinced me that was a misstep. You see, a century after the brothers fell, I learned a spell that could permanently sterilize anyone – even a being as powerful as myself,” Barbatos explained, still unnecessarily close to your ear. “I wanted my service to Diavolo to guide the rest of my life, but then I met you. The Barbatos you know couldn’t let that stand. He wants to make you his in every way possible.”

“Wh-what are you saying?” Your words gave way to another moan as you tried to unravel the information through a haze of lust. All you could understand was that Barbatos – the one you knew – loved you more than he anticipated, and that was, somehow, related to why this version of him was touching you, rubbing your thighs and between your legs with the perfect pressure.

“Nightbringer offered you ‘the path to happiness . . . a place that will bring you more joy than any other.’” The words sent a chill up your spine. How did he know the exact words Nightbringer had told you? Barbatos slid his hand down to your stomach and pulled you flush against his body until you could feel him, hard and pressing into you. Somehow his touch – which should have distressed you – put you at ease. The familiarity of his body was a comfort in the confounding fear. Barbatos kissed your neck so tenderly that tears welled in your eyes. “Your happiness is his, my dear.”

“Barbatos, please,” you begged sweetly – almost whimpering for him. This time you were certain: you were begging for his touch. As long as he kept touching you like this – the way your Barbatos might, you could handle whatever he was trying to tell you.

“You can call me by my other name: Nightbringer. I – the version of me you know – sent you here to push you towards a blissful life with him, where he has given you every part of himself. In other words, darling,” Barbatos brought his lips up to your ear, “I brought you here to breed you.”

Barbatos licked up your neck again. Every touch filled you with dizzying ecstasy. There was a familiarity in the way his lips and tongue teased you, how his fingertips grazed your skin, and the way his tail toyed with you; but you had never felt this good before. Something like guilt joined your pleasure to push fresh tears to the corners of your eyes. This was Barbatos – in another epoch; he was yours in a way, and somehow still not the demon you had fallen in love with. It seemed wrong that a version of him who had yet to fall for you would make you feel so much better than the one you knew – not that you had ever found sex with Barbatos lacking, but he felt like another demon entirely. You didn’t understand why you felt this way. Could your weeks of unresolved desire have made you this sensitive to his every touch? Your legs were already trembling.

As if he had read your mind, Barbatos added with a chuckle, “And as for why your body reacts so well for me: without the sterilization spell, my pheromones haven’t been slowly dulled over millennia.”

“You mean. . .” you wanted to finish your thought or at least sigh in relief, but all you could do was gasp and moan as his tail squeezed your thigh.

“I mean that my body can bring you more pleasure now than you have ever had. Poor MC, you had the misfortune of meeting me too late. But in this time, something as simple as a bit of my saliva can make you shake and whine like some desperate slut.” Barbatos relished the way you clenched your jaw and shut your eyes. You looked humiliated yet so aroused that the embarrassment almost didn’t matter. He snaked his hand back up your chest and neck. With a single, forceful finger, he tilted your jaw until you faced him and captured your lips in a ravenous kiss. His tongue teased you, leaving you breathless and panting. Your head spun and your mind went blank. When he finally pulled back, you followed his movements with a needy whimper. You wanted more. He smirked. “There. As cute as you look when you’re embarrassed, I’d much rather see that need burning in your eyes. There’s nothing to be ashamed of. He wanted this for you.”

There was a protest somewhere, drowning and gasping for air in your mind. This Barbatos had never seen you unravel at the edge of orgasm. He had never seen you blissed out. Hell. He had never even seen you in your underwear before. It was like having your first time with him all over again. You had every right to be embarrassed – especially when you were already in love with Barbatos. This version hardly knew you. You were at the mercy of a demon whose desire could never match yours; it was mortifying.

“And, my dear, if it’s any consolation,” he added, “my pheromones would have no effect if you were not such an arousing little human. I want this, too.”

Barbatos turned you around, pushing your back to the wall, and kneeled before you. His eyes were dark, and you couldn’t help but notice the pale pink blush on his cheeks as he pulled your clothes down and exposed you. He wrapped his tail around one of your ankles and pulled your leg over his shoulder.

“May I?” he asked with an obscene politeness, as if your chest wasn’t heaving and you weren’t a mess for him.

Your face burned as you nodded, too ashamed to speak the words – and too aroused to hold back your lecherous noises had you opened your mouth. With your permission, he brought his mouth to your entrance, licking you hungrily. His bare hand rubbed you gently – adding to the stimulation one slow stroke at a time – while his other hand dug into the flesh of your outer thigh. With a low growl, Barbatos plunged his tongue inside of you. He sounded so sexy. Everything burned, and all you could think to do was cover your mouth to dam the flood of moans as you came at the mercy of his tongue and hands.

Barbatos gave you a soft lick before pulling back and staring up at you. He was panting and flushed, and his eyes had a familiar amorous glint. “You’re reacting so cutely. I’ll admit, I was drawn to you before, but if you keep showing me those lewd faces, I’ll never want to let you go.”

His words warmed your pounding heart. Perhaps it was wrong, but if you could have found the strength to speak, you would have begged him not to let you go. Of course, you knew, that was your lust-drunk mind speaking, but you would have said it, nonetheless.

Barbatos let your leg go and reached up to take your arm, tugging you down and cushioning your fall as you straddled him. He shifted so that you were sitting in his lap. Your flustered face brought a grin to his lips and sent a wicked shiver up his spine.

“Take my shirt off,” he instructed. You stared at him, further embarrassed by the realization that you were the only one completely exposed. Barbatos waited for your compliance, but with an untrained patience, he sighed. “If you want me to fuck you, do it.”

Your fingers moved quickly to unbutton his collar, trembling and fumbling with the top button. Each button of his shirt and coat got easier. You could feel his heartbeat pounding through his clothes – and even more frustrating, you could feel him throbbing in his pants right between your legs.

“So good,” he praised you sweetly, staring at you with half-lidded eyes, once his clothes fell to the floor. “Pants now, darling.”

You went to unbutton his pants, grazing the bulge with your fingertips. Barbatos growled and rolled his hips up into you, making you whine.

“Careful,” he warned you playfully, tapping his fingers up your thigh to squeeze your ass. You bit your lip and tried to refocus your attention on the task at hand – or rather, under your hand. When you finally got his pants and underwear down, you ogled at a sight you had never seen before. Barbatos chuckled mischievously. “Oh dear, from the look on your face, it seems I forgot to mention something. That’s another side effect of the sterilization spell. His never comes out. Such a shame.”

You were speechless, staring at his two dicks beneath you. You had never seen the second, longer, thicker cock below the other. It was less human, too, and had the same shimmering glean – with the same teal lightning veins running along it – as his tail. Your mouth felt dry. Your lower lip was trembling.

“You seem to like what you see. No wonder I fell so hard for you,” Barbatos teased. He pulled you closer, guiding your body until he had aligned his first cock up with your hole. You felt him rub against you, smearing his precum on you. It sent a jolt of pleasure into you that spread out every which way through your body. Barbatos leaned in, sucking at the base of your neck, and riling you up even more. Your moans filled the room. This was agony – a beautiful, enticing torture. Content with his mark on your neck and your response, he pulled back just enough to whisper in your ear. “Now sit.”

Your legs shook as you lowered yourself on his first cock, feeling the second one rubbing against the curve of your ass. It felt so good that you were eager to take him all the way. Without him even asking, you started bouncing on his cock in slow, deep thrusts, savoring the way he filled you up. If your body had the strength, you would have been quicker. It wasn’t long before the pleasure was too much for you. You clung to his shoulders and tilted your head back in ecstasy.

“Barbatos,” you moaned his name as you came. Your legs gave out beneath you, and you fell flush against his lap, pushing him deep inside of you.

Barbatos clicked his tongue, “I suppose that was cruel of me to expect you to do all the work. Please allow me to help you.”

Wrapping his tail around your waist, Barbatos rolled you onto your back gently so that he was leaning over you. He pushed your legs up towards your chest as he bent down to kiss you. There was a sentimental sweetness to it that clouded your head further. Barbatos began to slowly rock his hips in and out of you. Every thrust had you whining against his lips. Even Barbatos found it difficult to hold in his voice, moaning into your mouth. He picked up his pace.

Suddenly, his tail’s grip around your waist tightened, and Barbatos began to move your body for you like you were his personal toy. You felt too good to be ashamed by it anymore as your moans mixed with the harsh slapping of skin. He twitched inside of you and broke the kiss to stare at you. The sight of your writhing beneath him pushed Barbatos over the edge. He pulled you against his hips with one final slap before he filled you with cum.

It drove you mad; his cum felt like an aphrodisiac pumped directly into you, leaving you trembling and whining. Barbatos gave you a soft, tender smile as he pulled out. His cum began to leak out of you, but Barbatos used his tail to lift your hips higher so he could lick it up, allowing it to pool on his tongue. He pulled you close enough to kiss you and slip his cum-coated tongue into your mouth; it was a shame to waste it, after all. You swallowed, feeling the warmth flush your face and spread through your body. Desperation flooded the pit of your stomach – aching for a break and for more simultaneously.

Barbatos admired the look on your face. He had never seen you lose control like this before. To say he was enamored would have been an understatement. Cool fingertips slid down from the base of your neck to just above your navel – as if he was trying to feel the way your body tensed with the threat of another orgasm. You moaned and begged through ragged panting, “Please, Barbatos. I can’t. I can’t take anymore.”

“Oh?” Barbatos asked, amused. He used his tail to flip you over so that your chest was pressed against the stone floor. His tail loosened its grip around your waist, only to take hold of your hips and raise your ass higher. Barbatos laughed with a darkness that struck you with fear, especially when he bent over to lick behind your ear. He could feel you shiver against his chest, which only excited him further. He cooed, “But we’re not done yet, darling. That was just preparation, I’m afraid. I told you I was going to breed you, didn’t I? Have you forgotten? I’m part serpent; I still need to fill you with my eggs. I need you to be good and take a bit more for me.”

“Eggs?” The word caught your ear. Did everything with him have to be so new?

“Yes, you heard me.” Barbatos curled his tail around your thigh and pulled your legs farther apart. He rubbed you sweetly while he continued to explain, “You see, not only does my sperm fill you with ecstasy, but it also prepares your body so that my eggs can absorb your DNA through their membranes. It’ll take parts from both of us – we’ll make a hybrid.”

Even through your exhausted, cum-drunk fog, you tried to break down his words. You could really have a baby with him? The thought had never seriously crossed your mind – you had always assumed it wasn’t possible. You’d never heard of a hybrid before. Something about the thought of having children with Barbatos frightened and thrilled you all at once.

“You’ve been so good for me, so I’ll do all the work. You just have to lay there and take it, alright, darling?” Barbatos whispered into your ear as he aligned his second cock with your hole.

His first thrust was slow and tender. You squirmed and stretched your arms out in front of you, grasping for something to anchor you. All you could do was claw at cobblestone as pleasure pushed you to tears. He was so big. It might have hurt if your body wasn’t overcome with a euphoria that numbed every other sensation. He could have clawed your thighs apart and made you bleed, and you were certain you wouldn’t have felt so much as a sting. Barbatos picked up his pace, pushing you over the edge again. You tightened around him, causing him to groan.

“You feel so good,” Barbatos panted and moaned in a ubiquitous tone. You were unravelling him. He throbbed inside of you. With another pleased groan and a few more bucks of his hips, you were filled with a new sensation. As Barbatos pulled out, an egg pumped into you. Your pleasure at the feeling almost sickened you. Why did he have to make you feel so good?

“Barbatos –” Your thoughts were interrupted by a wave of pleasure as Barbatos rubbed his second dick against your entrance again.

“Not yet,” he panted. Barbatos leaned in to capture your lips in a feverish kiss. Slowly, you felt him thrust back inside of you, pushing the egg deeper. It pressed against your walls, clouding your head. When Barbatos broke the kiss, he laughed sweetly – almost innocently in your ear. “Wouldn’t twins be cute, my love?”

“I –” you tried to form the words: you were going to cum again. But Barbatos hushed you affectionately.

“They’re soft-shelled eggs, you can clench as much as you want, and I can pound into you as rough as I want, it’ll be fine. Don’t think. Just cum for me.” You couldn’t tell if you hated him or loved him for being able to read your mind. When it was your Barbatos, you had always loved it – even when he flustered you. You let go and let another wave of pleasure overcome you with a loud moan; you were going to drown in this feeling. Barbatos’s adoring voice broke through your afterglow. “You sound so lovely when I make you cum.”

Barbatos drew noise after noise from your lips as he continued to fuck you. One of his hands slipped between your legs to rub you as he filled you with another egg. He didn’t pull out until he felt you clenching down on him, on the cusp of another orgasm.

“Don’t fight it,” he whispered. Barbatos continued to rub you with his hand and slipped the tip of his tail inside of you, swirling the forked ends.

The faint glow of magic – more specifically, a summoning spell – lit up your dim corner of the room. Barbatos produced a plug. He removed his tail before pushing it inside of you. As he rubbed a gentle circle around the surface of the plug, it glowed, lighting up the palm of his hand in a pale teal color.

“Why?” you forced the ill-formed question out weakly.

Barbatos crawled around your shaking body so he could look at your face. Tears streamed down your cheeks from a mix of pleasure and panic. He brushed a stream of tears away with his thumb. “Don’t be afraid. I needed to magically seal you up until my eggs have had a chance to soak up your essence. They should be fertilized within two days. Then, we can take them out. They can mature in any warm environment after that until they’re ready to hatch. I’ll take good care of them, darling, and I’ll take good care of you, too.”

The tears continued to flow. With his help, you got to your knees. Barbatos took advantage of your position to lean in and kiss you. This kiss was more tender than before, as if it had been filled with all the affection of your beloved Barbatos. His fingertips ran up your arms and shoulders, causing you to shiver. Everything felt new and terrifying; every touch consumed you.

“Relax, my love. I’ll take such good care of you,” Barbatos cooed and kissed your cheek before standing up. He began to gather his clothes and redress himself. It didn’t escape your unfocused attention that he was still hard as he pulled his underwear on. While he got dressed, he asked you, “Now, will you be good and let me carry you up to my room? Or do I have to keep you locked up down here until you’re ready to return to the demon who sent you here? And before you answer, just know, I would much rather run you a bath, wash every inch of that precious body, serve you something delicious to eat, and spend the rest of our time alone serving you in other ways.”

You were afraid to be left alone, still hazy, and weak from pleasure. Desperate for comfort from the demon you loved, you nodded and took Barbatos’s extended hand. He pulled you into his arms and embraced your naked body tightly. His touch still burned and excited you. He whispered into the crook of your neck, “Thank you. He – the future me – requested that I thank you for giving us this gift, but I want to thank you on my behalf as well. I’ll be so good to you. I swear it – and you know I do not take promises lightly.”

“I know,” you whispered. Your arms reached up to hold him back. Even if the Barbatos you adored could be wicked and cruel sometimes – even if all you had in this time was a crude likeness that had bred you, the love coursed through your body. This was alright. You could handle this if it was for him. His happiness was yours.

A/N: I tried really hard on this one, so I hope y'all like it. I still don't know how I feel about it. I've never written ovipos before. Also, would you say it warranted an 8 in the depravity ranking after reading it? Anyway, there will be a new poll for February up in less than an hour (Feb. 1 - 12am PST) That will be up for a week. Have fun. And again, hope this did something for y'all.

#moss poll fic #gn!mc #spice tier #barbatos #obey me #obey me barbatos #barbatos x mc #barbatos x reader #barbatos smut

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lemonlover1110 · 11 months

Text

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐀𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝟑𝟖𝟏

Toji Fushiguro

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[Chapter 10] Megumi's Fourth Birthday

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

*Just a fluffy chapter, I hope y'all enjoy🥹

Being with Megumi as his fourth birthday approaches is an exciting experience. Megumi knows that his birthday is coming up, his father reminds him daily, and he tells you about it excitedly. The little boy has so many plans, telling you that when he grows a year older he’ll be much more mature than he is now; he won’t be scared to try new things and he’ll behave better. Apparently he’ll be able to stay up longer and he won’t cry over such miniscule things, he’ll eat more veggies and he’ll make more friends.

For his fourth year of life, Megumi has so many plans and you’re beyond excited to be a part of them. Toji sent you the details of the small birthday party that he’s hosting for Megumi. Nothing too extravagant, he’s just taking the kid to his favorite restaurant inviting a couple of Megumi’s daycare friends, and after they’ll go to an arcade, which is perfect since Megumi is finally getting a hang of the games offered. There’s only a couple of games that he actually knows how to play, and he can’t wait to play them with his friends. A party at the park would’ve been a better idea, but it’s extremely cold outside so it wouldn’t be smart.

You’re not sure if you want to join Toji, feeling that you’ll be too old amongst the other kids, but Toji insists that you must go because he doesn’t want to be stuck with three kids. So you’re going. By noon you’re outside your door and knocking on Toji’s since you agreed to meet at the time. When he opens the door, you hear Megumi’s cries and you furrow your brows. Toji sighs.

“He refuses to put on his pants.” Toji is quick to share, and you chuckle. Toji notices the blue shopping bag in your hand, and when he offers to take it from your hand, you shake your head. You smile at him before asking,

“May I come in, Toji? I think I have the perfect way to help you.” You respond, and he moves aside to let you come into the apartment. You walk in, walking straight to Megumi. You crouch down and smile at the teary-eyed boy. You wipe his tears and pout before asking, “What’s up baby? Why don’t you want to put on your pants?”

He doesn’t have an actual valid response, the young boy just doesn’t want to wear pants. You hold back on chuckling before offering, “I have a very special gift for my birthday boy, but I can only give it to you if you wear your pants.”

“But–” Megumi begins, his tears streaming down his face again. It takes everything in you not to laugh.

“See what I’ve been dealing with?” Toji says, and it makes Megumi’s crying worse. You shush the man before turning your full attention to Megumi again.

“I promise that you’ll love what I got you, Megumi. All you have to do is put on your pants. And after we’ll go have lunch at your favorite place– We’re going to do so much fun stuff, Megumi.” You tell him, and after a minute, he ends up putting the pants on without a problem. Toji rolls his eyes, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips. How come when he bribes Megumi it doesn’t work?

“I’m ready.” Megumi answers. However, you can’t just leave yet because Toji isn’t ready yet. He struggled getting Megumi ready, and now the man isn’t changed to leave. He begins to get undressed, taking off his shirt and pants to put on the outfit he had picked out for today. Meanwhile, Megumi opens the gift you got him, and he wastes no time in playing with it.

“Do you like it, Megumi?” You ask him, and he nods in response. He smiles at you and you smile back at him. He continues playing until Toji is ready to go.

“Alright, let’s go.” Toji orders, and you’re out the door within a minute. Megumi holds your hand while you walk to Toji’s car. You end up picking him up while you walk down the stairs.

“Did I forget to wish you a happy birthday?” You ask Megumi, and you stick your bottom lip out when he nods in response. You kiss his temple before telling him, “Happy birthday, Megumi. I love you.”

“I love you too.” He mutters, and it fills your heart up with joy. Toji fights back a smile as he listens to the interaction, walking behind you. God, that’s so sappy, he can’t smile at it, he’s not a sappy man.

Taking care of three kids outside of work hours is more exhausting than your actual job. For some reason, it’s extremely draining to watch three kids. Megumi becomes more energetic and more talkative with the kids, which was to be expected but you just didn’t expect him to be such a handful. But you’re glad that he is, because it means that he’s having fun. You’re not sure Toji shares those same feelings because the man looks tired.

After eating with three four-year-olds, Toji is chasing them around the arcade. Toji wants to play some games with you, and just as he’s about to, Megumi asks for some assistance to play a different game. Toji’s not lucky at all because every time he approaches you with the intent of having some fun himself, a stupid four-year-old tugs on his pants and asks the stupid question, “Will you help me, Mr. Fushiguro?”

He knows he has to comply, he wants to make Megumi happy and he has to do that by making his friends happy. Toji doesn’t want to admit that he’s jealous– He’s jealous of a fucking four-year-old because he gets to play with you while Toji doesn’t. Toji has to chase around some stupid kids, and help them out as well.

But finally, he sees his opportunity. He walks over to you as you awkwardly stand, looking for another game to play. Just when Toji’s hopes go up, they quickly go down. Megumi runs over to you and catches your attention.

“Can we play air hockey?” Megumi asks, blinking rapidly in your direction which causes you to laugh. You’re about to nod but you feel a hand land on the small of your back. You look at Toji and you smile at him. Toji’s brows furrow as he looks down at his son before he asks,

“Can I play a game with her?” Which causes Megumi to shake his head. It takes everything in Toji to not roll his eyes. He sighs. “C’mon, let me play a single game with her.”

“It’s my birthday.” Megumi is all pouty as he points out that it’s his special day. Toji pinches the bridge of his nose before admitting that it is. Toji’s about to watch over the other two kids, before you speak up,

“How about the three of us play a game? I mean, it’s up to four players.” You suggest, and the simple idea hadn’t crossed Toji’s mind. They both agree.

“Should I get one of the other kids?” Toji asks, and you shake your head. They’re playing another game together and you don’t want to interrupt it because in the end one of them will be left out. They’re in the games that are right in front of you, so you’re not too worried about them. It’s fine as long as they’re in your vision “So how are we going to do it?”

“I’ll team up with Megumi, and you can play alone. I think you’ll be fine.” You answer, and he ends up nodding in response. Toji grabs the blue paddle, while you and Megumi are stuck with the red ones.

You begin to play, and it takes Megumi a bit to get used to the game. He’s good at stopping the puck from scoring, but he can’t stop Toji every time. Both of you notice Megumi getting frustrated by the game, and Toji is thinking about going easy because he can’t be too competitive with a four-year-old. He even touches the puck a couple of times, stopping it, and while Toji wants to tell his son that you can’t do that in the game, the little man just turned four. But once Megumi gets the hang of it, he manages to score a couple times with your help.

Toji still wins though. And before you demand a rematch, Megumi wanders off to his friends, about to ask them if they want to play a racing game; Megumi sucks at it but he loves playing the game since he gets to sit down. He usually asks his father for help, but he likes to show off to his friends that he’s a big boy now.

“Wow, can’t believe he just left us like that.” You joke, and Toji chuckles, watching as Megumi’s two friends follow him. When they get to their game, you turn your attention to Toji and ask, “Ready for a rematch?”

“If you’re ready to lose.” He answers, and you begin another game. But this time you actually do all the work. You were only helping Megumi in the last round but this time you’re actually playing. Toji is still a hard opponent but every time he scores, you get even.

Toji almost lets you win, but his competitive side gets the best of him, and he has to score against you a couple of times. Until he finally wins. You pout your lips and cross your arms before you walk over to Megumi and his friends to check how they are. You hear Toji yell,

“Oh c’mon! I thought you wanted a fair game!”

Within the hour, the kids’ parents pick them up from the arcade. Megumi is bummed out to see them go, but he forgets once he plays a couple more games with you. By the end of the day, you have so many tickets.

Megumi trades in his tickets for candy, you trade yours in to get a stupid cartoon ball for Megumi, which he loves more than the candy– With what you have left over you also get some candy for Megumi, which he thanks you for. Toji has the most amount of tickets, doing extraordinary in every single game that the arcade offered (he won’t mention that he stole some of Megumi’s friends' tickets, claiming it as a small fee for everything). However, Toji doesn’t know what he can spend his tickets on.

He ponders on it for a moment, looking at all the fun toys and gadgets that he can pick from. He calculates that he can get two giant stuffed animals, and he stares for a moment. Is it really worth it? The man looks at you and Megumi, as you suck on a lollipop that Megumi offered. Megumi also has his own candy that he sucks on. He smiles at you two, and then gets the two stuffed teddy bears.

You don’t notice it until Toji holds two giant stuffed bears. You laugh since Toji looks absolutely ridiculous but yet so adorable. You tilt your head before you ask, “Two? What for?”

“One for Megumi...” Toji begins. He can’t hand the stuffed bear to Megumi since they’re almost the same size, but also because Megumi’s hands are full. Toji then extends the other bear, “The other for you.”

“Oh…” You feel your face get warm, taking the stuffed bear from his hands. You mutter a thank you, before a weak smile overcomes his lips. Toji clears his throat before he asks,

“Ready to go home?”

When you get back to the apartment building, you drop the stuffed animal back at your apartment before you go to Toji’s apartment. You had some dessert at the restaurant but nothing like the traditional cake. And while Megumi would’ve liked celebrating this part of the day with his friends, Toji didn’t really want to invite two other kids to the small place of living.

Toji lights up four candles, and you begin to sing happy birthday to Megumi, however, he blows the candles out before due time. He heard the cake was a chocolate one and he can’t wait to taste it. You and Toji laugh.

You help Toji out, serving the slices of cake for everyone before you take a seat and enjoy it in silence. Toji finds himself foolishly smiling, he doesn’t remember the last time he was this happy. He’s watching Megumi, who’s making a complete and total mess with his cake.

“I hope that after all the sweets you can sleep tonight.” Toji comments, and Megumi doesn’t miss a beat before responding,

“It’s my birthday.” Which has been Megumi’s only comeback for the day. You chuckle, before nodding.

“He’s right.”

“I wasn’t even telling him anything bad. Just an observation.” Toji responds. A genuine smile comes to your lips as you make eye contact with Toji. His cheeks turn a sweet shade of pink. God, he wishes he could’ve spent the day with just the two of you, but it’s not his birthday. He cherishes this moment because it almost feels like you’re a family.

“I want more cake.” Megumi says, putting his fork down. Toji shakes his head.

“No more cake for today. You’ve had enough sugar, even if it is your birthday.” Toji tells him, and Megumi crosses his arms, pouting his lips. You can’t do anything about it even if you wanted to. Giving Megumi more sugar would be an awful idea.

“You can have more cake tomorrow, Megumi.” You point out but it doesn’t help much. Megumi wants the cake now, not tomorrow. But Megumi has had a great day, so he won’t throw a tantrum, even if it is his birthday.

Toji clears his throat before he stands up. He walks over to the dresser, opening a drawer to pull something out. Your back is turned to him so you don’t really see anything until Toji takes a seat again and he puts down a black square box. He slides it across the table, and you raise your brows.

“What is this?” You ask Toji as you take the box.

“Just a gift. We won’t be together for the holidays since I’ll be taking Megumi to spend it with his grandparents. Thought it’d be appropriate to get you something since you’re so kind to us.” Toji answers, which takes you back. You open the box to find a charm bracelet, which almost makes you burst into tears because it’s perfect. You’ve never really thought about getting a charm bracelet, but you find it like such a thoughtful gift from his part.

Megumi is looking, trying to see what the gift is. He thought he was the only one that got gifts today, but he doesn’t mind that you’re getting something. Megumi absolutely adores you. Toji clears his throat again before saying, “It’s not real gold… Sorry.”

“Oh, Toji, this is so beautiful. I love it.” You smile at him, putting on the bracelet before sliding yourself across the floor to throw your hands over him and hug him. You kiss his cheek, and you immediately feel embarrassed when you pull away. Maybe you should’ve just stuck with a hug. Toji smiles at you.

Megumi walks over to you, crossing his arms before he asks, “Do I get a kiss too?”

“You get all the kisses you want.” You respond, filling his face with kisses until he’s giggling and pushing you away. Once you stop, you stand up, “I should get going.”

“Stay.” Megumi looks up at you with doe eyes, and you pout. You kiss the top of his head before you ruffle his hair. “It’s my birthday.”

“I’m tired, baby. But I’ll come back tomorrow to play with you, okay?” You respond, and he pouts. He’s about to throw a tantrum, and when Toji sees it, he stands up.

“I’ll walk you home.” Toji offers, not wanting to witness what’s about to happen. He expected the tantrums to stop the moment Megumi turned four, but this is the second one today. You two walk out the door together, leaving Megumi to scream by himself. It almost makes you turn around to stay with him a little longer, but Toji guides you out because he knows you’re weak.

“I feel bad.” You comment, opening the door to the home. He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, putting his hands in his pockets.

“You can’t give in or he’ll throw more tantrums. You’ve spent your entire day with him, you must be tired.” Toji tells you, which is true but that doesn’t make you feel any less bad. Megumi is still screaming. You open the door to your apartment, and you turn to look at Toji for a minute. You smile as his hand goes to your cheek, caressing you with his thumb. You lightly bite down on your lip, and when he realizes what he’s doing, he takes his hand back and almost mutters an apology. He awkwardly says, “You look really pretty. Thank you for joining us.”

“Toji…” The way you say his name makes him melt. He doesn’t like that feeling that begins to overtake him when he hears your voice or when he hears your name. He looks at you. You grab the collar of his shirt and you pull him down, your lips meeting his.

It’s a short kiss, but it feels like it lasts for eternity. Toji wishes it could last for eternity. His body temperature rises, his palms getting sweaty as they go to your back. It’s a sweet kiss, and while he isn’t one that cares for sweets, he wishes he could get this every single day, every hour, every minute, every second. He doesn’t like this care and affection that he’s feeling. He fucking hates it because it makes him weak. He doesn’t like longing for one person. Yet you’re infiltrating his mind, and changing his feelings and thoughts.

You pull away, a sheepish smile on your lips, “Thank you for the bear, Toji. And the bracelet, it was very thoughtful.”

Before he answers, you’re inside, and you’ve shut the door. You’ve left him frozen, questioning everything that just happened.

Worst of all, you’ve left him with an idiotic smile on his lips, that quickly goes away when he feels it on his face.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #anime #jujutsu kaisen x reader #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #daddy toji #toji zenin #jujutsu toji #toji x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #fushiguro toji #toji x you #dilf toji #toji fic

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senlinyu · 11 months

Text

Since ao3 is down, here is a thing that was supposed to be a twitter drabble but it got too long so I forgot about it for eight months.

Dying Wish

//open ended, pining Draco, theomione, Dramione (vaguely), Tragic Theo.

Almost everyone said that Theodore Nott marrying Hermione Granger was unexpected but not surprising. Theo had always been academically insufferable, and Granger was infamously so. The relationship could have almost been called inevitable.

Everyone had stories about the absurdly saccharine workplace romance that unfolded. Coworkers by coincidence, they both showed up for a cancelled meeting, the waiting led to a shared project, and from there a whirlwind relationship.

They were engaged within a year.

A beautiful couple, a perfect match. Despite Theo possessing the near fatal flaw of having been in Slytherin, he compensated for any suspicion held by Granger’s friends by having a tragic life story practically from the moment of conception. A mother who’d died horribly young, and a monster of a father who’d always considered his son a bitter disappointment.

Theo had never taken the Dark Mark, he’d played no part in the war. He was self-deprecating and funny, and knew how to make people like him because he cared about people liking him. The kind of man who was perfectly happy to become ‘Hermione Granger’s husband,’ unlike the previous boyfriends who always wanted her bright but not ‘too bright’.

Draco was happy for Theo. In a very detached and uninvolved way. He wasn’t such a cunt that he would resent his best friend for finding love, even if it was with a person he habitually went out of his way to avoid.

Granger was, after all, a menace with a vicious protective streak, and a known right hook. Draco, in fact, knew it personally. No one was ever going to hurt Theo again, she would make sure of it.

Theo, for his part, had spent his entire life looking for someone who’d let him love them completely. Someone to give his heart and soul to. His adoration for Granger was nauseating, an ocean of unplumbed depths.

The stars seemed to align for them, every piece falling into place to create a perfect match: Two positively revolting swots joined in matrimonial bliss, happy as could be.

No one asked Draco if he wanted to be in excruciating proximity to the entire affair, and yet he somehow was. He helped Theo plan his proposal, and then had to listen to Theo practise his speech over and over without wincing, and then illuminate over five hundred fairy lights , cue a quartet, and then fling a garden’s worth of rose petals into the air, before apparating silently away.

He was the best man. He planned Theo’s stag night. Slapped him across the face when he started hyperventilating, kept the rings from getting lost, and signed as witness to the union.

When it was done and they were off on their honeymoon, he left the reception, and went to Greece for six months in order to detox from the entire revolting affair.

When he finally forced himself to go back, he coddled himself by ignoring most of their invitations, and only accepted the ones where he could arrive late and leave early and barely speak to the hosts.

Eventually Theo stopped bothering him.

After all, it was bad enough to hear how revoltingly happy they were together without seeing them.

Malfoys were emotionally repressed on principle. His father used to say that falling in love was something only poor people did.

If Draco had to witness Granger making cow eyes at Theo, he would suffer indigestion, and his mother had always said he was constitutionally delicate.

He didn’t particularly like company anyway, and Theo’s friends were mostly Granger’s friends, which was not a circle Draco ever felt comfortable in.

His uninvolvement was going swimmingly until he received a short, informal note in shaky writing.

‘I need to see you. Please come. Theo.’

Draco had always been better at refusing formal invitations than personal ones. What the fuck would Theo suddenly want? After all these years?

He tried to ignore it, but the vagueness ate at him, niggling at his curiosity until he gritted his teeth and apparated to Nott manor.

Instead of an elf, or a butler at least answering the door it was Granger herself who opened it.

“Malfoy, you’ve finally come. Theo will be so relieved.”

He swallowed hard.

It had been a few years since he’d seen her in person. Wasn’t she supposed to be blissfully married? Weren’t happy people supposed to glow or something?

She’d been glowing at the wedding. Draco remembered all clearly the way her face had lit up when all the lights illuminated and music started, and Theo, despite Draco’s repeated warnings, was on his knees reciting a poem he’d written for her.

Draco had nearly died from second hand embarrassment.

The memory of how happy she’d looked while Theo compared her to the moon in iambic pentameter before hundreds of people, had been seared irrevocably into his skull. It would probably still haunt when he was a ghost.

She was not glowing at all now. She looked sad, and tired.

“Granger,” he said, even though he was excruciatingly aware that she was married.

He expected her to correct him out of habit, and then he’d retort that she would always be Granger to him, and then they would exchange empty banter and it would pass as conversation, but instead she just said, “Theo’s upstairs,” and led the way.

Draco expected to be led to a study, or a horrible mad scientist type lab designed for two, but instead it was a dark bedroom.

Draco baulked at the doorway, and Granger went in. He could hear the hushed murmur of voices and then she came back.

“He’s awake and having a good day, call if you need anything.” Then she left him there.

Draco watched her vanish back down the stairs before setting his jaw and entering the room. Theo was pale as a sheet, propped up with pillows, his face lit up at the sight of Draco.

“You did come, you old bastard.”

“Yes,” Draco said awkwardly. “Is Granger finally poisoning you for your family fortune?”

He’d prefer to avoid greetings or comments about how long it had been, or asking what was wrong. It was clear that something was incredibly wrong. Theo was thin and greyish, everything about him faded, not at all the picture of health Draco had assumed he would be.

That he was supposed to be.

Theo gave a wan smile. “I wouldn’t blame her, but no. My mother, you might not remember, it was a maladiction that killed her. Apparently I inherited it. Another thing my father didn’t manage to beat out of me.”

Draco’s chest clenched. “Theo, I’m—”

Theo shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ve—worked through it. Mostly. There are stages to grief apparently. That’s what the books say. I’ve moved through denial, anger, bargaining and depression. It’s not entirely a linear process but I’m mostly at the acceptance point now. Figured we should say goodbye.”

Draco just stared at him. “You can’t be serious. You invited me here for goodbyes? Fuck off. You can’t just give up like that. You’re married. You have a wife, you can’t die and leave—“

“If there was a fucking cure, Hermione would have found it,” Theo cut him off, his usually soft voice hardening in a defensive way that startled Draco. “We’ve looked. We’ve tried everything. You’d know that, if you’d ever come around. She’s been trying for years. Admitting she couldn’t—she tried so hard.”

Draco felt like he’d been struck. “I—I’m sorry. Of course you did. I’ve been away. Busy. I have responsibilities.”

Theo rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “It’s alright, I know now why you didn’t.”

Theo sat up slowly. His body seemed shrunken, like a breath of wind could carry him away. “That’s why I needed to see you. I wanted to apologise. I’m sorry for not realising it sooner. I should have. Looking back—it’s so obvious.”

Draco forced a laugh. He had no idea what Theo was talking about but he was really not enjoying the conversation.

“Realising what? What’s obvious?”

“That you’re in love with Hermione.”

Draco’s entire body went stiff, something inside him crumbled and died as his heart stopped completely. His voice failed him the first several times he tried to speak. He looked away, clearing his throat repeatedly.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You sound mad.” He fidgeted with the potions on Theo’s bedside table, peering at them. “What kind of potions does Granger have you on?”

Theo slumped back, his eyes fluttering closed, his eyelids looked almost bruised with exhaustion. “I think back a lot. Mostly the years since the war, once my father was gone and things were getting better. I was remembering how much time we used to spend together. You were doing community service for probation, that elves thing Hermione founded. And I was going from one bad relationship to the next like some sad puppy.” He opened his eyes. “I was remembering how whenever I told you about anyone I dated, you always used to sneer and said they weren’t good enough for me, and gave the worst relationship advice ever. You Sabotaged me.”

“You had terrible taste,” Draco retorted, still sorting through the potions and still not liking at all the direction the conversation was going in. “It was a mercy on my part.”

“When I told you about Hermione, that I ran into her, and I asked you what you thought, do you remember what you said?”

“I can’t say I do,” Draco lied.

“You said I’d never be good enough for her. Then the next week, you came around again, and I remember you looked terrible and I assumed you’d had another fight with your parents, and you told me if I was serious, I should get a job at the Ministry, mentioned the rumour she’d had a time-turner at school. She was the only person you gave useful relationship advice about. Looking back, I don’t think it would have happened without you. Any of it.”

“Theo—“ Draco shifted awkwardly, having run out of potions to look at, “—it was just a joke, You can’t assume things like that. Granger? Really? Of anyone I could have feelings for. Your wife?” He exhaled raggedly. “Have you forgotten our history? Unlike you, I was a Death Eater. I was in the war. Even before then, I was awful, and they brought her to the manor and I—“

He’s rambling, he knew he was rambling. He needed to fucking shut up.

“I would never have been able to—“ His voice failed and there was a stone lodged in the bottom of his throat and he just stood there trying to keep from smashing everything within reach.

He needed a drink.

He threw a hand up, suddenly angry and turned on Theo, glaring. “It was just a fucking joke. I don’t even remember it.”

Theo simply nodded. “You were right though. I wasn’t good enough for her.”

Draco scoffed at that, turning away, inspecting the view. “I’m sure you did just fine. I always heard that you two were revoltingly happy. People said you were like some storybook couple. You two were good for each other—that’s really all that—“

He was stammering again.

He cut himself off. “You were happy together. Everyone said you made her happy. And I don’t do happiness, it gives me a rash.”

“Shut up,” Theo’s voice sharpened. “Fuck. I forgot how much you talk when you’re lying.”

He gave a heavy sigh. “You wanted us together, didn’t you? You engineered it.”

Draco gave a long suffering sigh. “Theo, you’re a moron. Just because you claim to be dying doesn’t mean I’m going to put up with a conspiracy theory that I’m in love with your wife.”

“Fuck off. You were my only friend, and you were the only reason I didn’t accidentally sabotage the relationship. All the times I would have rushed things, you stopped me. You were the reason why I managed to pull off all my harebrain romantic schemes. You made it work. And somehow I ended up married with the friends and family I always wanted, that you knew I wanted, and where the fuck did you go? Where have you been since then? Not here, that's for sure.”

Draco glanced out the window. “You wanted a new start, Theo. It was all you talked about once your father was in Azkaban. I was the past. Once you were married, you didn’t need me anymore. I was a hindrance.”

“You manipulated me,” Theo said, looking unreasonably infuriated for someone who’d gotten to marry the love of his life. “You self-loathing fuck. You thought you had it all worked out, had everything puppet-mastered. You nudged me right into her path to love her for you. Pushed us together so you would be alone the way you’ve convinced yourself you deserve to be.” He sounded winded. “Fuck. I’d punch you if I had the strength. And the thing I’m the most pissed off about, is that I was so enamoured, I didn’t notice. I thought it all worked perfectly that time because it was meant to.”

If Theo was expecting a confession he was going to be terribly disappointed.

“Maybe it did. I don’t know what you expect me to say about any of this. Even if any of that were true, what does it matter?”

“It matters,” Theo said.

Draco rolled his eyes.

“It matters because you have to take care of her when I’m gone.”

Draco’s heart stalled for a second time, but he recovered faster. “I’m sure you can get everything arranged in advance so she’ll be fine.”

“That’s what I’m doing right now. I can’t ask her friends to do this. They love her, but they don’t understand how to care for her. She takes care of everyone, but she doesn’t remember to take care of herself. She needs someone to be selfish for her, who will do whatever it takes to put her first. I can’t be your proxy anymore, it has to be you now.”

Draco’s neatly manicured nails were biting into his palm, he didn’t even know when his fists had clenched. “Theo…”

“I have spent so much time worrying about her, feeling like I can’t go because who’d be here to make sure she was alright. I’ve considered everyone, and when I got to you, I brushed you off at first, because you used to talk about how you couldn’t stand her. But eventually I wondered, why did you do so much to bring us together? If you really hated her so much. You always knew what she’d like. You figured things out about her that it took me ages to piece together. And you’re actually a rather shit liar, now that I’ve been thinking about it, if you’d really hated her, you would have been a lot nastier than you were.”

“I still don’t see the point in this conversation,” Draco said in a bored tone. “Granger can take care of herself. Especially with your fortune.”

Theo exhaled, like he was too tired now to fight anymore. “You are missing the point on purpose and we both know it.”

Draco did not know any such thing, still it was difficult to keep looking at Theo and he turned away.

“You did a good job at it. I’ll admit, you are the manipulative person I have ever known, if I weren’t dying, I probably would have never known. But now it’s my turn to be manipulative.”

“Well a good rule of thumb is not to tell the person you’re trying to manipulate that you’re doing it,” Draco said in a dry voice, turning to face him.

Theo was holding up his wand and had a wry smile on his face. “Fair enough. But I do have one final piece of leverage.”

Comprehension slowly dawned on him. “Theo, don’t you—“

“Draco Malfoy, it is my dying wish that you care for my wife when I am gone. Support her in her grief, and help her find joy in her future. Be there for her once I can’t be. Help her find herself again. Do you accept?”

Death Wishes were magic out of old grimoires. The kind that only insufferable people like Theo Nott would know how to perform.

Usually they were curses pronounced as the person died, but a rare iteration was rather like an Unbreakable Vow, if Draco refused, Theo would not pass on after death but instead linger as a ghost, attempting to fulfil the wish himself. If Draco accepted and then broke his word, Theo would come back from the afterlife and haunt him.

Bullshit all around either way.

Theo’s wand pulsed with magic, waiting for Draco’s answer.

Draco stood glaring at him. “I hate you.”

Theo glared right back. “If you weren’t such a self-sabotaging, self-loathing moron I wouldn’t have to do this. You think I want you hanging around my wife? I don’t. But being your proxy was also a shit realisation, consider this my way of getting even. You will make Hermione happy and you will get over your self-hatred and do it yourself this time or I will haunt you and I will make sure Hermione knows exactly why it is that I’m doing it. Do you accept?”

The magic was humming louder, growing brighter and Theo was beginning to turn translucent as though the magic was draining his life from him.

“Fine. Yes! I accept.”

The magic flared out and flew across the room, striking Draco and fading into him. He clutched at his chest but the light had gone.

He looked up.

“Fuck you, you manipulative bastard,” Draco finally said, his heart was pounding.

Theo just gave another wry smile. “You know, that’s exactly what I wanted to say when you walked in.” He sank back into bed, looking winded. “I’m glad you came to see me. I was starting to worry you wouldn’t and I was going to have to come up with a whole extra scheme. You saved me a lot of trouble. All worth it for Hermione though, right?”

Draco turned without another word and headed toward the door, desperate to be gone, even though he could feel Theo’s wish like a brand inside his soul waiting to come alive.

“You should go see Hermione,” Theo’s voice followed him, already threatening to haunt him. “You know, she admitted once to fancying you a bit back when you were volunteering at the charity. She’d planned to ask you out, but you never came around after your probation was over.”

#Dramione #draco malfoy #theomione

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babyouran · 2 months

Text

Trust Me! - y/n is introduced to the host club, though her immediate disinterest catches the members' interest to make her a part of their community.

pairing - fem!reader x host club members

apart of - ouran add-in

"Fujioka, haven't we spoken about where to do our project already? I'm afraid this isn't the right way to the library," Y/n mentioned, currently having her wrist wrapped with the other girl's fingers.

Just a few months ago the duo were placed together as partners and had grown a close relationship together. Haruhi was the first person to befriend Takahashi Y/n, not even knowing her family's occupation. She saw the girl by herself reading and figured they might have a similar interest to talk about and soon enough became friends. Such a true relationship was refreshing for both of the young ladies, someone who didn’t care about all the superficial things and just about what mattered mostly.

"Takahashi Y/n, trust me, this may not seem like a good place to study but it will soon prove useful," Haruhi tried to reassure her, pulling out the young woman's full name to show she was serious. Haruhi’s eyes were narrowed showcasing that she was on some type of mission to get the fellow young woman more involved.

"If you insist," She sighed, letting the other girl drag her around, even though she was very capable herself.

"Takahashi-sama, may I ask you a question?"

"Takahashi! I saw that your fath-'' Voices began to try and start up conversations with the girl, but none were successful since her dear friend was on a mission to get her to Music Room 3. In a rush, Haruhi fastened her speed to the room yelling a curt goodbye to the student.

"And we are here," Haruhi exhaled deeply, the girls stood in front of the door. One girl's expressions held pride and excitement while the other had confusion and a hint of worry.

"Fujio-" Y/n began, turning around but was interrupted by her dear friend.

"Again," She sighed. "Call me Haruhi, you don't have to be so formal, there aren't people watching you all the time," She smiled lightly at the slightly taller girl.

"Correct, Haruhi-chan, I'm a little confused about why we will be studying in a music room," She tilted her head, to get a better look at the sign and express confusion. "Music room three to be exact," She corrected herself.

"This is where I go after school, this is where the club I am in resonates, and sometimes it serves as a nice laugh!" She exclaimed. "Though some of them can be very annoying, they are also sweet."

"I don't need any more friends," Y/n deadpanned. "I followed my father's wishes and made one, making more would be a nuisance.”

"Nonsense! Takahashi, it's not a bad thing to make new friends, and these will be good ones, trust me," Haruhi tried to reason with her. It was clear since the beginning that Y/n was very closed off when it came to the truth of her home life. But this was a prominent feature that she thought would help connect her with the boys who resided in Music Room 3.

- flashback -

"Hello, I'm Fujioka Haruhi, pleased to meet you," She bowed in front of the girl sitting daintily in her yellow dress engrossed in a story.

"Ah," She sighed, continuing the story. "Takahashi Y/n," She turned around to face her fellow student and put on a light smile upon her lips. Though it was harder to identify the gender of the student she figured she was a girl because of her very soft nature.

"What are you reading?" Haruhi peeked over the book, getting much closer to Y/n’s face than originally intended. When she lifted her head to look into the fellow girl's eyes, their noses almost touched. Y/n didn’t flinch, she just scrunched her eyebrows in the slightest bit and took a small glance down back at her story.

"Norwegian Wood, it is a very interesting romance story,” glancing back up towards the girl she continued, “Fujioka, I'm going to make an inference and please don't be offended. You're a female correct? Yet, you don't care about social standards and little things like clothing. You're also content with people assuming you are a boy. If I may add, you differ a lot from fellow students here which concludes that, most likely, you have a different background than them here," Y/n observed, looking her up and down. "If you would like me to use he and him pronouns I will,"

Haruhi stared at the once quiet girl, she had gotten everything spot on. It was odd how easily she was able to read Haruhi since most of the students couldn't even figure out her gender. But in reality, most students did not give her the time of day to even try and figure out a basic thing as such.

"You can just use female pronouns when it is the two of us," She sat at an empty desk beside Y/n, now staring intently at her. "How did you-"

"You were kind, most richer children only talk to other children once they know their status and how it affects them. Your features also seem feminine, so in all honesty, I just took a guess," She shrugged. "Suppose I was correct,"

"Yeah, scarily correct,” Haruhi's eyes narrowed at her before a smile began to form on her lips, chuckling to herself. “Would you like to be partners for the English class? I have my guess that we will get along well," Haruhi expressed.

"I don't have anyone else myself, and my father commanded me to make a friend, so I think that is an intelligent idea," She put the book away and looked hopefully at Haruhi. For some odd reason, Haruhi felt her stomach flutter a bit, almost as if a tiny butterfly was flying about inside.

"I trust you," Y/n admitted. "But I don't trust that this situation will work in the ways you hope it will, I'm not in the mood to be bombarded by music students. I will not want to join any orchestra, I simply want to finish a new book in French I got," Y/n explained, suddenly yanking a book out of nowhere and showing it to the girl.

"Please, Takahashi-sama, I'll owe you a favor. Just give it a chance?"

"I will do it, but the favor I want you to give to me is about my name. Please refer to me as Y/n, and don't use any title after, unless it is chan," Y/n told the girl, showing a faint smile. Haruhi nodded and opened the doors to the empty classroom with boys waiting.

"Welcome to the Ouran High School Host Club, how can we help darlings like you?" A blonde asked, hand facing up with his palm open. He was not wearing the normal uniform but instead dressed in a captain outfit, as if he were the captain of a boat.

"These are your.... friends? Where are the instruments?" Y/n turned to Haruhi, very confused.

"Ah! Haruhi!" The blonde jumped from his position running over to the girl. "You need to try this sailor girl costume we got," The man jumped up and down, running to the side of the room to grab it. He resembled a very excited puppy who just got a chance to get a treat.

"Haruhi, who is your friend?" A boy with auburn hair pops up, a carbon copy of him standing on his right and staring at Y/n intently. The two looked more mischievous than comforting, silent side eyes shared.

"Haruhi, thank you for your suggestion, but I think I will just read in the library," Y/n nodded to her, swiftly making her way out of the room, her strides quickening to get out of the room. The boys' attentions were now all peeked and focused on her. Tamaki had finally recognized the new guest, dropping the dress from his grip and walking to try and reach her. The door was slammed shut as soon as Y/n made it outside, Tamaki’s face right by the large door moments from being smacked by it.

"Shoot," Haruhi grumbled. "I guess she was right again,"

"Who is she?" The other twin repeated.

"Her name is Takahashi Y/n," She told them, pinching the ends of her hair. "I thought it would be good for her to meet some new people, you guys are kind of like her in ways. It doesn’t matter much now…”

"Takahashi?" The black-haired boy with glasses walked over, his notebook propped open. "She is the daughter of the Mamoru Takahashi. That man is very well established through his electronics company. He's top of the line in the field," Kyoya informed the group, reading a page from the notebook.

"She's that popular? Wait, you don't mean the line of electronics called 'Taka', that's made by them?" Haruhi asked bewildered.

"Her family, they are an interesting sort. I don't have much about them because they are more on the mysterious side. I'm surprised you were able to befriend her," Kyoya mentioned.

"My favorite cake mixer is from them, I always ask the cooks to use it! It whips up the ingredients so good and it tastes extra yummy," The lolita type boy added, running to Haruhi. "I heard they are coming out with a new dessert maker! I can hear my tummy grumble just thinking of it!”

"I like the watches, very high tech," Mori expressed.

"The TV's are great for watching my reality shows!" Tamaki exclaimed.

"I have some of her products," Haruhi mumbled. The group turned to look at her, almost as if they were confused she could afford something. "I'm not poor, I might not have as much as you guys but some of their stuff is affordable," She rolled her eyes.

"Isn't Takahashi the one girl in our class, some people bombard her because they want to see what she would look like without that mask," Hikaru remembered, recalling that she was sitting by Haruhi on multiple occasions.

"I forget she wears that sometimes," Haruhi chuckled to herself. "I’ve grown used to it, I don't ask about it anyway since it could be personal. But it does a fine job in helping conceal her identity."

"We must get her here!" Tamaki declared. "Gather up! I have a plan, men!,” his pointer finger raised in the air, Hikaru and Karou’s own hands in a position of a salute. “Oh! Haruhi too,"

"I don't know about this.”

Y/n was sitting in the library, a mask covering the bottom half of her face as always. It did not take her long to forget about the past events and completely engulf herself in a new story.

"Psst," A person poked her shoulder, interrupting her peaceful reading bliss.

"If you would like a free product I'm not the one to ask, though we appreciate all of our customers who purchase our pro-" She started to ramble, still reading the book but remembering what her father told her to say. It was programmed into the young woman's brain by now as if memorizing lines for a play.

"No! No, that's not why we are here," The voice interrupted her, now fully gaining her attention.

"Not many people come into this library, especially in this section," She hesitantly said, very confused about why this person was here now. They were dressed up in a trench coat, wearing a fake mustache and a barre to top the outfit.

"I'm undercover, I need your help with something," They cupped their hands over their mouth, to give the image that it was a secret.

"Pardon me?" She questioned, completely muddled. "I won't take part in any 'undercover investigation'. If you need me then you will have to speak to my lawyers beforehand, or at least my father," She reached into her pocket, just to grab a bookmark as she now figured her quiet space wasn’t about to stay as quiet but the action startled the man. He rushed to keep her hand in her pocket, figuring that she might be reaching for a phone instead to make the call.

"No! No, wait look," He ripped off the mustache, making a face of hurt afterward. "Suoh Tamaki, president of the Ouran High School Host Club! I'm afraid we didn't have a proper introduction earlier, my beauty," He got up from the chair, grabbed her hand, and placed a kiss on the top of it.

"Um," She pulled her hand away, right afterward, grabbing a handkerchief from her backpack nearby and wiping off any remains. "You're a friend of Haruhi's, that's nice. But I'm not in the mood for more friends, kind offer, but no thank you," She replied, clutching her book and moving away from the once quiet spot in the library.

"You ruined it boss," Kaoru chimed in through a walkie-talkie.

"That's why we have multiple plans. Your turn boys,"

Y/n left the library, walking back to the previous classroom where lessons were held earlier that day. She was merely a foot away from the door before someone lightly bumped into her.

"Sorry, Yah!" A boy with a blonde wig yelped. "We exchange students from Germany," He answered, his twin with the same blonde wig but it was curved to the right instead of left. They had on a dirndl and kept leaning into each other.

"Vill ye help us with class?" The other asked, with a horrible impression of a German accent.

"I can't. I took a class in German culture and language when I was younger. I don't think they wear those kinds of outfits everywhere. You're the twins for that club, right? I am okay and should be leaving now," She trailed off, eyes warily looking back at the two boys bickering over a small object. Y/n made her way to the cafeteria, now having limited options of where she may go.

Finding an empty lunch table in the back, she took a seat, letting out a deep breath, and looked around for any suspecting fellows.

"Hiya!" A blonde boy popped up on her side, considerably shorter and having a younger look to him.

"Oh, hello," She gave a slight wave, eyes darting back down to her book. Y/n silently thought to herself he was just trying to be polite and that would be the end of it, what are the chances of running into someone from the same club for the third time?

"Please, please," The boy started, moving closer to Y/n and putting on a pouty face. "I-I came in here with my dad, I can't find him. He was going to get me cake, and now I can't have it," He went into a full-out sob, tears flowing down his face and hiccuping resounding around the area.

"Okay, where was the last place you saw your father?" She inquired, giving him a spectacle look, Y/n hesitantly patted the boy on the shoulder. He looked somewhat familiar, yet she couldn't put her finger on it.

"In a music room. My dad said-" He once again broke out into a fake cry while Y/n took his hand and let him lead the way to where he once was. "He's a part of a club here," The blonde mumbled.

"A club? Your father is a student. Wait a minute-"

"You found my son. Thank you. Please come in." The 'father' thanked her, now wearing the same fake mustache another blonde had tried.

"No, you both are a part of that club. Just like those other guys,” Y/n took a step away from the duo. “Why are you following me?"

"Um," The 'father' voiced refusing to look Y/n in the eyes but instead stared straight ahead.

"Do I get my cake now?" The blonde pulled out the walkie-talkie and spoke into it.

"Why are there walkie-talkies?" Y/n pondered.

"They are like that," Haruhi chimed in, sneaking up on Y/n.

Y/n flinched, stepping aside to make room for her friend, "Haruhi, your friends are kind, but I'm a little confused about all of this."

"Takahashi Y/n, in the same year and class as Haruhi and the twins. The only daughter of the Takahashi family wears a mask and enjoys her peace. Good at figuring things out," He stopped, looking at the girl whose eyes were wide open with confusion. "Well Somewhat. Yet I can't get much more on you," He walked closer to her.

"That's all you need to know, more than you do. Ootori Kyoya, your father is Yoshio, and you have three other siblings, all older. Your family is well established as well, I know more about you than you will ever know of me. It shall stay that way, I don't need people knowing much about me, it's... odd," Y/n voiced, walking into the club room and searching for a phone.

"Y/n, wha-" Haruhi began.

"I'm sorry, I have a feeling I'm going to get in trouble if I continue speaking. I hope I didn't offend any of you and our family relationships can stay well, I just need to make a call," She started plucking in the digits for the number.

"Takahashi, why must you consult your father on a friendly conversation with fellow teenagers?" Kyoya wondered.

"I can't say, I mean I'm- well," She didn't know what to say, she didn't have an excuse ready at the moment, she was caught fully off guard.

"Join the club," Tamaki spoke up, walking over and taking the phone from her hand, the butler on the other line speaking into it. "You interest me, the whole club, the school. We just have tea with fellow students, you can do the same," He offered.

"Thank you, but-"

"Think for yourself," The 'father' from earlier chirped up.

"I,” Y/n looked down at the phone resting in the hand of the club president, an inviting smile on his face. For once, she felt that she had control of her life and her choices, she felt that way when with Haruhi and wouldn’t mind it becoming something more frequent. “I suppose it could prove useful for our company, and it could be enjoyable," She muttered, a small smile appearing on her features hidden underneath the mask, though Haruhi knew Y/n enough to be able to recognize the little changes in her facial features to tell she was happy.

"Great! Y/n, welcome to the Ouran High School Host Club!”

an - hello, this was just something silly I made up to introduce y/n to the rest of the group, the next chapters will be adding y/n into episodes. (There is a reason she wears a mask, not COVID-related or sickness, it will be shown later on. Y/n often uses titles like ‘senpai’ similar to the characters in the anime/manga)

hope you enjoy it! please let me know what you think!

next chapter - Beware of the Physical Exam!

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yuri-is-online · 5 months

Text

Host With the Most (Vil Schoenheit x Yuu)

Intro

notes: they/them used for Yuu, in this house we love Vil Schoenheit and his pursuit of aesthetic beauty, Vil is very touchy with Yuu because he likes them, Yuu is a wee bit oblivious. Also happy New Year! Ha this took me too long to write. If you wish to see more of me, consider looking at my masterlist.

"As the default 'owner' of the Mansion it makes the most sense for Yuu to help me." Vil's voice has that firm air of finality to it that thunders through the air with the same force as Leona's roar or Malleus's storms. Speaking of Leona, he seems to be frightfully amused by this cute little attempt at imitation, and you have absolutely no desire to see them cat fight.

"Just what help do you need exactly? I'm not really the best choice for an understudy." You try your best to keep any trace of tiredness out of your voice, but you really should know better than to lie to Vil by now. He ignores his argument and cups your face in his hands to get a better look at your skin, pursing his lips ever so slightly to try and avoid a full frown.

"You really need to have more faith in yourself." The scolding is serious but the genuine affection in his gaze as you involuntarily chase his touch as he takes back his hands is real. "And to get more sleep. With enough practice you could be more than worthy, but lucky for us both that's not what I had in mind."

"Awww beta fish already claimed little shrimpy? Laaame." Floyd blows a raspberry and you stick out your tongue when Vil looks away.

"No chasing shromps for you." That cheers him up. You think.

"Stay!" Crewel seems to have regained a bit of his fire. "Ramshackle is Yuu's home, so having them work alongside Schoenheit will allow them to keep an eye on all you puppies and make sure you aren't destroying their living space."

"You have no need to worry yourself over such a thing Professor." Rook cheerfully says.

"Yeah! We're good house guests." Laughs Ortho.

"... Schoenheit perhaps you would like to take Yuu to look over costumes and explain your plans while I have some words with my third and fourteenth reasons?" Vil does not need Crewel to tell him twice.

~~~~

"We aren't planning on using any rooms you or Grim do regularly, though Rook and Floyd did have ideas for the attic." Vil immediately starts talking shop as soon as you leave the classroom. "Guests are going to walk though the house on a marked tour, and I'll be playing host for part of the show."

"A ghost host?" You expect to be reprimanded but Vil winks.

"In my first script the host had an assistant, but Ortho suggested he be placed in charge of screen mapping and projection so we didn't need to make as many adjustments to your dorm." Vil sounds just as proud of Ortho as Idia would be if he was telling the story. It fills your heart with warmth. "Thanks to that suggestion I get to have you stick with me for the rest of the week." And just like that the warmth floods up to your ears, damn that professional training for letting Vil say... things. Yes just things, you are reading into friendly banter too much. The way your breath hitches at the gentle ghost of his touch across your back as he guides you through the door he opens is natural, you just aren't used to Vil's touchiness yet.

"Have you already thought out the costumes?" You remove yourself from his side and try to place some distance between yourself and your feelings by looking over the fist set of clothes Crewel has laid out in this empty classroom, completely missing the brief flicker of disappointment Vil refuses to contain.

"I provided Professor Crewel some concept sketches and my script, but we still have some sizing adjustments to make..." Vil's voice trails off and you turn back in concern. Yet he does not seem distracted at all when you do, he simply proceeds with his thoughts evenly. "I hope you don't mind, but the costume I have in mind for you is raven themed, so you might end up looking a bit like our dear Headmage."

"Oh please no." You groan and Vil laughs.

"Just the bit." He moves to your side, directing your attention towards an admittedly sleek tunic like outfit with a hood and feathers embroidered down the cape. "Go ahead and try it on, I'll wait out here to look it over." As you turn to do just that you find his face close to yours, the typical intensity of his stares and danger of this specific smile suggesting something other than his usual ire. "And make sure to tell me if it's comfortable," he gently tips your chin up to look at him with a slender finger, it's as if he means to kiss you with how he tilts his head "you will be standing next to me for the whole night, I can't have my partner falling down from something as simple as fatigue."

Oh there is no need to worry over that when he is more than able to be the death of you on his own.

~~~~

The better part of your next three weeks is spent practicing the haunt and slowly loosing your sanity. You don't actually have any lines, or much of anything to do other than follow Vil around really, but that meant you had to spend more time around him. More time around those casual touches and compliments that have invaded your friendship since your trip to the underworld, battering your imagination in directions you had long since tried to convince yourself was forbidden. Vil is beautiful, and his confidence of it strangely not off putting to your foolish heart. But Vil had been clear, he was affectionate to all of his friends in private and no amount of skirting the boundary-

though it was all him, if you could only realize how he is trying so desperately to initiate that he is starting to come unglued

-would make your desire for his love anything less than a pipe dream. A dream made substantially worse by how you did know just enough about what one of his kisses would feel like to fantasize about tasting him on your lips. Not that you could see them from your position at the back of the test group, clammy hands fidgeting with the prop lantern you carry, but his slicked back hair and strategically rumpled suit are so ingrained in your dreams at this point you're sure you know what he looks like.

As if you are the only one tortured by fantasies, as if he did not design that cape specifically to see you in it. As if-

"Horntoads and lizards, fiddle and strum. Please answer the role by beating a drum!" Cater's head begins to "levitate" up off the table as he chants in a show of theatrics that's still impressive even if this is the 999th time you've seen it; Ortho's projection mapping coupled with Cater's willingness to improvise had blended into a really unique act. Something a Scarabia freshmen seems to really agree with you because he immediately starts screaming and flailing around in a way that has you deeply concerned for your poor dorm's safety. You take a deep breath to steady yourself, trying to examine the idiot's body language to determine if he was a threat or not. A decision that's made for you as soon as he goes for his magic pen and you note, perhaps too late, that maybe you should make your guests surrender them before going through the haunt.

"Excuse me." You make sure your cowl is lowered as you gently try to tug his hand away from his pocket and are rewarded with an easily dodged slap. "Well now you're just embarrassing both of us."

"Just what do you think it is you are doing foolish mortal." You swear you saw Vil walk forward, but your brain refuses to register his movements as soon as he opens his voice. "It seems you would prefer to take my way out after all." It's silly, being impressed with a professional actor staying in character, but then it must be equally silly to go a bit jelly legged at seeing Vil drawn up to his full height and radiating confidence. The student whimpers and you again reach for his hand, acting the good spirit gently tugging him away from the grip of the damned souls of the mansion.

"C'mon now, no need to be shy." The student lets you lead him away mutely, clearly disappointed in himself.

~~~~

"And I will see you all a little later." Vil bows, disappearing from the group as they flow into the dancers and he immediately drops his practiced face and begins making his way to his next scene. He has faith in you, so he is not surprised to see you waiting, cowl once again up and swinging your lantern to amuse yourself in a manner that would be cute if he wasn't so worried. "Yuu," Vil does not love how forceful his tone is for the way it makes you jump but the emotions running about in his chest keep him from softening it "are you alright?"

"Just peachy." You try a chipper tone but choke as Vil once again reaches to touch you. He cups your face in his hands like it is precious, examines it careful and runs his perfect fingers along your arms to examine your hands in what feels dangerously close to an excuse to hold them. "Dumbass," he purses his lips "sorry, po-ta-to thought Cater had actually lost his head because of Riddle or something. I made sure to hand him over to Crewel and suggested we take the guest's magic pens to make sure if they do freak out no spells get fired off."

"In hindsight that seems like a rather obvious precaution." Vil exhales, letting out the disappointment and intakes a prideful, teasing look to his eyes as he continues to focus on you. You swallow thickly, how many times has he said what he's about to in these past few weeks? "You're doing an excellent job, I knew I picked the right person to partner with." You look down at your hands, Vil still hasn't let them go. It hurts somewhat, more than nearly being slapped.

"You don't have to say things like that just to make me feel better." You cough and Vil frowns.

"I don't give compliments for the sake of ego you know." He lets go of one of your hand to run his thumb over your quivering lip, staring deeply at the tears you had not noticed until he moves to dry them as if he can erase them from time with sheer will alone. "When I say something to you about how grateful I am to have met you, that I admire you, when I say I find things about you to be beautiful and that I want you to stand beside me, I mean every word."

"If you say things like that I'm going to start thinking you mean something different when you call me your partner." You try to joke and for some reason this is what makes him falter.

"... wasn't that obvious?" Vil, beautiful Vil, has a genuinely surprised look on his face. As if he was not the one who had said he was affectionate to his friends specifically... as if he had expected you to notice how much longer he spent kissing you than Rook or Epel and divine his romantic intent from the way his hand sought yours alone. Perhaps he had thought you had more courage than you did, or perhaps, you think to yourself with some relief, there are some things Vil just doesn't quite know how to say because he is so used to having to prove himself worthy of saying them in the first place.

"Are you sure you want this?" You ask because you feel like you have to, but what you are really trying to ask is if you are allowed to want this, to want him.

"Dangerously so." He rests his forehead against yours, a contented sigh worming its way past his lips at the lack of ambiguity in the way your fingers finally thread through his. "I only have so much time left to keep you to myself you know? When the school year ends I'll have to make excuses to more than just a handful of classmates for why I deserve to be alone with you, without sparking any comments." You had considered that of course, let it fuel your doubts and even still now it flickers slightly in your mind.

"I don't want to take the coward's way out." You say and Vil's eyes betray momentary shock. "I don't want to keep ignoring my feelings."

"Then we are in agreement, my dearest partner." Vil draws you impossibly close and presses one kiss to your forehead to his joy and your rancor before he dips you to give the kiss you really want. "I don't think I could ignore you if I tried."

Welcome, foolish mortals, to this haunted taglist: @nothingfuninthislife

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #bleh don't like this one as much as i wanted to #but i want it out

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silantryoo · 1 year

Text

kim chaewon x actress!reader (angst, fluff)

WARNINGS ; mentions of iz*one disbandment

chaewon had debuted with le sserafim the year you two were supposed to have your second anniversary. instead of celebrating like the others, she found herself stuck in her room again, watching your debut show and crying into one of your sweaters that you had forgotten to take with you.

the two of you had lost contact quickly after the disbandment, her getting sucked into her work and you trying to find something that made you happy like iz*one did, which ended up with you landing the supporting role in the hit show, twenty-five twenty-one.

of course, in support, she watched it for you (even though she didn't tell you). she just didn't expect the story to hit so close to home.

and like torture, she watched the series every time she missed you. almost like art imitating life, she watched as you tried to break up with your on-screen boyfriend, just like how you did with her. except this time, they fought for you, begging your character to just try with them.

why didn't she just do that?

sakura entered the dark room, sighing once she saw what was on screen. "chaewon, please. you're just hurting yourself more."

chaewon shook her head, burying herself further into your sweater as she watched you smile like you used to smile at her.

"why did i let her go so easily?" chaewon whispered, her eyes moving to sakura's figure. "why did i even agree?"

sakura approached the younger girl, sitting down on her messy bed. she always had suspicions about you two back during iz*one. part of her wished that she found out then, when you both were happy, instead of now.

"it's not your fault." the older girl tried to comfort her.

"yes, it is!" chaewon felt her dry eyes start to tear up again. "it's my fault because i didn't fight for her at all! she was always thinking about my dreams first. why couldn't i just tell her that this wasn't my only dream?"

chaewon clutched onto the last thing she had of you desperately as if she was terrified to let that piece of you go. her sobs came spilling out as sakura rubbed her back gently. this was supposed to be one of the happiest moments of her life, but everything in her body ached.

she had given up her biggest dream to pursue another.

"what do i do?" chaewon looked up, her face wet with tears.

sakura pursed her lips, moving the younger girl's bangs out of her face. "i don't know."

chaewon looked at the screen to find you crying. she would do anything to get you back. she just wanted one more chance to fight for you, to show you that you were her priority as much as she was yours.

you were definitely going to kill jang wonyoung the next time you saw her.

you didn't care if the younger girl had a schedule she needed to attend to. you hated schedules like this. actually, you hated hosting in general. you had no idea why she had suggested you to her producer when you had no prior experience in hosting.

now, you were standing at the interview booth for musicbank beside enhyphen's sunghoon and worst of all, le sserafim.

you shuffled around awkwardly, ignoring the obvious looks that the entire group of girls were giving you, especially chaewon.

it hurt to look at the girl you loved. it was hard thinking that you had made a mistake, letting her go so easily, but you knew it was better for her this way.

was it better for you as well? absolutely not.

you found yourself crying in your roommate's arms (by roommate, you meant yena refused to stay in her apartment), asking her if you did the right thing by letting go of the one person who truly made you feel like yourself. she had even learned how to cook because she was so worried about you.

part of you wondered if yena had told wonyoung (she probably did, and you were probably going to kill her later too).

the interview went on fairly smoothly, chaewon trying her best not to look at you as she spoke. with a few jokes here and there, and the script making sunghoon call you his 'ideal type' (chaewon was not a fan), it ended quickly. you and sunghoon bowed at the girl group, your eyes meeting chaewon's.

oh, you both thought. she still looks beautiful.

you send her a small smile. a real smile that showed her that maybe she still had a chance.

she swallowed, stuck in her place before realizing she was on camera. trying her best to laugh it off, she bowed to sunghoon before walking off-screen.

she was sure she had a chance, and she wasn't going to screw it up. not this time.

you sat quietly in front of your vanity, your head leaning back as you took a deep breath in. you looked around, the room was deserted except for yourself. your manager had gone to fetch you food, and the rest of your crew was on their break.

it was the perfect time to get your head together.

less than a minute after, you heard a light, hesitant knock on the door.

thinking that it was your manager with an armful of food, you opened it only to be met with your old member.

"chaewon-ie"

"y/n." she fiddled with the cuffs of her jacket as she entered the room. you closed the door behind her. "hey."

you stood in front of the door, hearing your heart beat out of your chest, something you were familiar with whenever she was around.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, eyeing the girl.

chaewon's mind went blank. it was the first time in months that you two were truly alone. she suddenly felt like she couldn't speak.

"nothing, i, uh, i just wanted to see you." chaewon cleared her throat, almost as if she was taking back her words. "how you were doing, i mean."

i missed you so much, she wanted to say.

you looked down at your shoes. part of you wished she was here for more than a friendly check-in, but you knew that wasn't the case. still, it didn't hurt to day dream.

"i'm doing good." you looked back up, nodding to yourself. "how about you?"

she looked down at your lips, quickly looking back up to you. "i am too. i mean, i just debuted."

you lightly smiled, obviously trying to hold down how proud you were of her. "congratulations."

both you and chaewon stared at each other, the ambiance of outside filling the silence of the room within. you watched as she nervously picked on the skin of her thumb, a habit she developed close to the end of the panorama era.

you take a good look at her face. it was still the same chaewon, but she was different somehow. a good different.

"i saw you, on tv." she spoke up, startling you slightly ('i couldn't stop thinking of you'). you felt a blush spread across your face. "you're a great actress."

she watched as your smile turned into a familiar, more bashful one, one that she would see when she gave you praise after a tough day at practice.

every inch of her missed you.

"thank you." you said softly, chaewon's eyes meeting with yours ('i was thinking of you, too'). "you're a great idol."

chaewon swallowed. "thank you."

the two of you wait for the other to say something, an awkward tension filling up the room. what you didn't know was that chaewon had been waiting for this very moment for the past two weeks.

"i should go." you laughed awkwardly, glancing at the clock which showed that you had forty-five minutes left. "i need to be on stage soon and—"

"i never wanted things to end between us." chaewon stared at you as if she was challenging you.

you felt the air escape from your lungs.

"what?" ('what?')

"i know you thought that it was a good thing. that i could focus on my career without any distractions. that i could finally reach my dreams again after losing you guys." she started, her mouth spewing out what she had really felt ever since then. "but it wasn't what i wanted. it was never what i wanted."

you stared at her, finding it hard to speak all of a sudden. a spark of hope lit inside your chest, but you quickly push it down. the two of you decided this together.

you frowned. "chaewon—"

"you never asked me if i wanted to break up." she interrupted, much more desperate this time ('i still love you'). "you only asked if it was a good idea."

"you said yes."

"i did. but it didn't mean that i didn't want to try." chaewon gripped her jacket tighter, taking a deep breath. she can't cry now, not yet. "if i knew that i would lose you, i would have never said it."

you took a deep breath in ('i never stopped loving you'). "i was just thinking of you."

chaewon frowned as you looked away, wiping your eyes gently so as to not smug your makeup. it took everything in her to not wipe your tears away.

"but was that what you wanted? for us to break up?" chaewon stared at you, her voice cracking. she could feel tears starting to fall. "look into my eyes."

you slowly turn your head, your breath hitching. even when she was crying, she always looked beautiful.

you tried to reason out. "but it was good for you—"

"i don't care if you think it's good for me! i know what's good for me." she shouted at you, her breathing getting harder ('listen to me'). "i know you're good for me."

you blinked away your tears, looking straight into the older girl's eyes. with barely a whisper, you said, "i don't know what you want me to do, chaewon."

"can," chaewon inhaled sharply. this was it. "can we be us again?"

you exhaled sharply, feeling your stomach flutter. you couldn't deny that you've dreamt of this many times before, wishing for a way that the two of you could work in an industry like this.

but you needed to be honest with yourself.

('i want to'). "chaewon, i don't think—"

"i can make it work! we can." she begged, her tears now falling like waterfalls. she grabbed your hand gently, afraid that you might pull away. you didn't. "i'm not letting the best thing in my life go without a fight."

she watched as you stared at her, clearly in an internal battle with yourself. she knew that you were more of a realist that she ever would be, but that didn't matter to her.

what mattered to her was you.

"please, y/n. i love you." she begged, holding your hand tighter. "i've loved you since i saw you in the practice room at four in the morning, crying because you got into class a instead of the others. and i haven't stopped since."

you could feel yourself crying, not caring that you ruined your makeup. you could feel yourself no longer caring that it might not work, but hoping it would.

"i've loved you since i've first met you." the shorter girl continued. she wiped your tears away gently. "please, just let us try again."

you didn't care anymore. you wanted it as much as she wanted you.

"okay." you nodded, feeling relief spread all over your body. it was the right choice. it felt right.

being with her felt right.

she gasped sharply, blinking away the lingering tears in her eyes.

"okay?" chaewon looked at you with big eyes, the same ones that you've loved all this time. "really?"

you nodded once more before she pulled you into a desperate kiss. she still tasted the same, like everything you've dreamt of and more. her hands found it's way to the back of your neck as she held you like you were about to disappear. you felt like your body was on fire, yet somehow you were able to breathe again.

you wrapped your arms around her waist, pulling her in as close as possible.

after what seemed like minutes, the two of you pulled away. you smiled at each other, chaewon still wiping the tears that continued to fall from your face. this time, however, it was out of happiness.

she gives you a quick peck on the lips, something that she used to be too shy to do.

you laughed, making her look at you weirdly. "you're much more confident now, huh?"

i can't wait to get to learn you again, you thought, looking into her eyes.

"do you like it?" chaewon asked, quickly looking at your lips again.

she winced, realizing that your (and her) lipstick had been smudged. chaewon scolded herself in her head for forgetting that the two of you were still at musicbank.

"i love it." you leaned down, kissing her softly. "i love you."

chaewon truly smiled for the first time in months. "i love you too."

> main masterlist.

#kim chaewon x reader #le sserafim x reader #izone x reader #iz*one x reader #lesserafim x reader #wlw #kpop x reader #idol x reader #silantryo

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lavendermunson · 7 months

Text

Gorgeous - steve harrington

chapter 1 of miss americana and the heartbreak prince

summary you are on a break from tour and all of your plans get wrecked by a lovely baseball player.

tags famous!singer!reader and famous!baseball-player!steve. each chapter will have it’s own warnings, none for this one except consumption of alcohol. just pure fluff. i changed the name of the chapter sorryyyyy!!!! no use of y/n

w.c 2.2k

masterlist | series masterlist | next chapter

You’ve reached the half of your tour, and Wednesday’s show was the most energetic. Now you find yourself yearning for some much needed rest during your month-long break. You can already picture yourself making a nest on your bed, doing nothing but sleeping and watching your favorite tv show.

Life takes unexpected turns, it’s Friday now, and one of your friends has invited you to a party. She said it wasn’t a ‘big thing’ but the house was full, the music wasn’t so loud and you wanted to thank the host for it. You miss your bed, and your cats, but it’s also nice to see some of your… friends. Not that you have too many, there’s always a struggle on trusting new people.

You try to relax your shoulders as you make your way to the kitchen to get a drink. On your way, everyone keeps complimenting you about the successful tour you’ve had.

Since you started making music, the growth of your career has been massive. Rich and famous people often prioritize numbers and records, focused on ‘who does it first’ ‘who wins the next award’ and tons of material shit you don’t care about. You wish someone would appreciate your music as you’ve always seen it, art. It’s an extension of you, a way to feel yourself free while being connected with your fans through truthful and poetic lyrics.

The kitchen is empty, only two people hang around kissing and touching each other like they are invisible. Something in your body aches whenever you get to watch someone giving affection to their partner. It’s inevitable, you yearn for that.

Being a successful person does not always mean you get what you want in your personal life. Sure, you’ve had dates with interesting people but no one sticks around to see the true you. Most of the time they only want to hang out with you, have a date or attend an event only to get their five minutes of fame.

Now that you think about it, maybe you don’t have time to settle down with someone and that’s disappointing, you really crave for someone to snuggle with and have a fun loving life. Dance around the kitchen, play around at the beach.

It seems everyone has time for love but you. Everyone does the best, or worst, time on dates while your dates always have paparazzi and people at home watching the pictures, focusing on who you are dating instead of what you do, what you feel, and who you are. It’s more exhausting than performing love songs about fictional people that you’ve created in your head.

You wish your personal life was getting better as your professional life, tour, and travel days are planned, you always get your favorite breakfast, and the love that radiates from the fans makes you glow. It’s a different story when you’re alone in a hotel room, you start to feel like the loneliest person in the world. How can someone perform for 30,000 people and yet feel so alone five hours later?

Being on tour is exhausting, but for a couple of minutes on that stage, you feel powerful. It’s the safest place you have, for now.

You are in desperate need of the strongest drink you can get. So, you reach for a bottle but as you reach for it, a hand is pressed against yours. You gasp at the sudden touch and look up to see who it is.

Famous baseball player Steve Harrington appears from out of nowhere. The touch feels warm, you blush as he looks at you with a grin on his face.

“Soft spot for whiskey? This is my favorite one too” he says, your lips parted as you feel the heat on your face.

Keep. Yourself. Together.

“Uh…” you didn’t even realize it was whiskey, I just grabbed the first thing I could find” you confess, biting your lip as you miss the warmth of his hand.

“You weren’t going to pour this fine whiskey on that red cup, were you?” a chuckle escapes from his lips. He is cocky, he grins like he is the king of the world, and you… you like it.

“I- I just wanted something stronger than this beer” You let the red solo cup on the table focusing on his movements.

“Let me handle this” he makes his way through the kitchen looking for a cup worthy of his favorite liquor. He manages to get one, it’s not the same one he hand-picked since the party started but he believes it’ll do the job. He adds a couple of ice cubes and pours the whiskey, just the right amount.

As he hands you the cup, your fingers briefly touch, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what’s got you so nervous, please, you are the queen of the world right now.

“Thank you,” you say, taking a sip of the drink. As the liquor travels through your throat, you can feel it burn. It’s a feeling that leaves you pleased, this is exactly what you were looking for. “Wow, it’s delicious”

“I know, the best whiskey in this state,” he says. “I’m Steve Harrington, by the way,” he gets closer to you, his hand reaching out for yours.

You shake his hand, your cheeks feel hotter than ever. “Nice to meet you, I’m-”

“I know who you are,” he whispers, winking with a grin. Letting go of your hand he finishes his drink in a sip. He wipes the corner of his mouth and grabs the bottle of whiskey. “It’s too loud in here, do you want to join me in the backyard?" The house fills with voices as someone else arrives and everyone goes to the front porch to greet them.

“Sure” you nod, now holding your drink between your hands. You follow him to the backyard, small and shy steps– far from your usual confident self.

“Here, I grabbed this blanket earlier. You can sit with me” He offers you a spot on a blanket, sitting down and getting comfortable.

You take another sip of your drink, feeling the whiskey fade the nerves away. “It looks like you had this planned out” You leave your cup on the grass, letting the ice melt a while, to make it less strong.

He laughs, looking at the stars in the sky. You get lost on his features. The way his nose is perfectly shaped, his eyelashes are long, the little freckles on his face lit up by the yellow little lights in the backyard. “I wanted some space. I have a game on Sunday and I got dragged to this party… I tend to just find a place for myself. It looks like you needed a break too”

You notice how his nose scrunches up when he mentions his game. You bet he didn't know that you were aware of his existence, but you did. It was impossible to dismiss him, he has been one of the biggest and most famous players since the season started. Your dad and your friends talk about him. On tour, some people on your team watch his games before the show since the games are early. His face covers some of the biggest places in the cities you visited on tour.

“Is it a big game?” you curse yourself, of course it is. But you know nothing about baseball so he lets it pass. He looks at you with a sympathetic smile.

“It is, the team we are going up against is one of the best. I don’t tend to talk about it days before or I will get nervous” he confesses, leaning his head to one side and looking at you like you are the most beautiful jewel in the world.

“I don’t believe you” you laugh, shaking your head.

“What?”

“You, getting nervous. Your team has won over and over because of you, people on my tour team always brag about how you are the best”

Steve blushes at your words. He is fucking blushing and lets out a nervous but cute laugh.

“Don’t tell me you don’t get nervous after a show” his cocky grin comes back, you reach quickly for your cup to take a sip.

“I don’t,” you say.

He leans back, eyes wide. His lips parted in surprise.

“You don’t? How?” he asks.

“I do the same every night. It’s all choreographed, the one who is always nervous is my tour manager. But me. I don’t know” You let your head fall to look at the cup, and you shake it slowly so the ice cubes make a sparkly sound. “When I get on stage my heart just fills with warmth and I know there are people who are having the best time just because of me”

“That sounds very romantic” he searches for your face, and you look at him.

“It’s the closest I will ever get to romance” you sigh, feeling a sense of shared understanding.

“Hey, cheers to that!” he says.

“Cheers!”

You clink your glasses together. The night slips away, accompanied by Steve, whiskey, and sharing stories.

He is sweet, he has a true passion for his job, loves his career, and his team. You didn’t like to talk about work, but what else would you talk about? Work consumes both of you, it's easy to realize that. He is in every poster, you are in every magazine. Social media is filled with pictures of you, good news, bad news, fake news.

“It’s comforting to know someone is as married to their job as I am,” he says, his words slurred from the whiskey.

“I don't like to call it a work, it’s more like…” you begin.

“A dream come true,” he finishes for you.

“A dream come true, yes” You agree, feeling your head already spinning, the bridge of your nose hurting and your back giving up after sitting on the grass.

“Can I just tell you.. You are not what people say you are, well, not entirely” he says suddenly, whiskey doesn’t make Steve confident, it makes him dumb.

“What do you mean?” you worry, your body tensing in anticipation. You’ve read all of the nasty things people have said about you, but it only hurts when it comes from someone you like or care about. Was he about to say something mean?

Steve could never say something hurtful. He respects people so he can be respected in return. He’s experienced the harshness of the media as well, he has somewhat of a bad reputation.

“You are an icon. But right now, you are just… you” he shrugs. “You look so unreal in those magazines and right now you look like a fire in a cold winter” he gets closer to you, and the gap between you disappears. “I mean, you are not just a record breaker, you radiate an energy that makes me... too comfortable for my liking”

“Are you…”

“I am serious,” he says, looking at your face, admiring all of your features. He knows you are cute, perfect, and talented. But now he realizes you are also sweet, you have a warm personality and a calm that surrounds you everywhere you go. “Talking to you made me forget everyone in the world knows my name, it’s like you are the only one who knows me”

“Like we know each other's little secrets?” you ask, reciprocating his feelings. Talking to him also made you forget about the millions of people who are listening to your music every night. That your face is on every little girls’ bedroom wall.

“Like we are each other’s secret” he whispers, so close his liquory breath tingles against your lips. “Can I kiss you?”

“Please” you whisper too, your entire body is burning. What you said earlier wasn’t a lie, you don’t experience romance very often.

“So cute and polite” he rests two of his fingers on your chin to bring you closer. Steve gently presses his lips to yours, moving them softly as you catch up with his movements.

The kiss is slow, but your heart is beating faster than ever. You only get this feeling when you are on stage, he only gets this feeling when he wins.

His thumb slides to your neck as his fingers rest in your cheek. Your face is between his hands, and you could swear you see stars, a glowing pink aura surrounding the two of you. This feels too good to be true.

When air is needed, both of you separate from each other. You touch his arm to keep him closer as he looks at your face, lips puffy from kissing.

“Guys! Pizza is here” someone inside the house screams, the scent of greasy food making its way to you.

“I don’t know about you but I'm really hungry,” he says, getting up and offering you a hand to help you get up.

“Me too” Your cheeks are still pink, he notices and almost falls on his knees at how adorable you look. You take his hand and get up, your chest bumps against his.

“There is one thing everyone says and it's that you are beautiful” he looks at you with his pretty brown eyes.

“Do you agree?” you ask.

“You are fucking gorgeous”

You laugh, getting on your tippy toes to leave a kiss on his cheek.

“We are each other’s little secret, remember?”

You nod in agreement, understanding the secret bond you now share. Steve smiles and drops your hand, disappearing into the house. You let out a big sigh, you are so going to make a song about this, but for now, it’s a secret you’ll keep locked away from the world.

I hope you like this series, feedback is appreciated! don't forget to REBLOG TO SUPPORT THE AUTHOR! . ♡

DISCLAIMER. you already know who inspired this, I want to clarify i mean no harm for the people in real life and what happens in this is just inspired by them, it's not based on true events. comment to be part of the tag list!

#꒰ leia writes ⊹ ㅤ꒱#baseball!steve harrington #leia’s MA&THBP #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington au #steve harrington x female!reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x y/n smut #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x fem #singer!reader #steve harrington x female reader smut #꒰ leia's steve ⊹ ㅤ꒱

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