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#no way was i staying the whole night in heels LOL
dawneternal · 1 day
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The Benevolent | Eris x Healer OC | Three
☁︎ notes: sorry it took so long to get this one out 💛
Clementia really is the goddess of mercy and healing but I made up the part about the feathers. There will be more half real/half made up references to mythology so buckle in lol also Eris is kind of Cardan-coded in this chapter
☁︎ warnings: talk of injuries, talk of Beron's abuse, drunk characters
☁︎ word count: 1.9k
☁︎ AO3 Link / Masterlist
☁︎ tags: @cauldronblssd @mybestfriendmademe @teddyhoneybear @tele86 @imma-too-many-fandoms @allyjoe755 @milswrites @shadowdaddies @zenkindoflove
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The ring summoned Aya again nearly a week later, just as she had finally made it back to her dorm room in the Healer’s wing. Lessons had run late, after which she had been called to a family dinner by Thesan. Her feet were sore and the pair of clean pajamas waiting on her bed called to her. Her heart leapt into her throat at the thought of what sort of injuries had prompted that ring to glow, regret sinking its claws deeper into her gut. Another long night of keeping Eris’s soul tethered to his being?
She heaved a deep sigh, shouldered her bag once more, and winnowed away from her cozy room.
The designated winnow spot was in Edana’s private courtyard, surrounded on all four sides by her rooms. The Lady had carved a spot out of the wards - or had bribed someone to do it. Edana or one of her two trusted guards were to wait for Aya in the courtyard. The written copy of the bargain details instructed that if anyone else were to ever greet her, she was to winnow back to the Dawn Court without speaking to them.
All very calming, naturally.
Tonight, one of Edana’s guards met Aya in the courtyard, which she considered a good sign. The guard did not say anything, only nodded in greeting before turning on his heel. Aya shivered in the Autumn chill and trailed after him. No one had told Aya the guards’ names yet, and she was too shy to ask. They were a little intimidating, stone-faced and armed to the teeth. Obviously, they cared about Edana's safety a great deal, and she had not stopped to wonder what they thought of the Lady hiring a strange healer and adding her piece to this hidden game board.
The dark-haired man led her through Edana’s sitting room to the stone passageways. She followed him through the dim, winding halls, finding them to be as deathly silent as the first night. She was beginning to wonder if the whole house had a curfew, or if they had all simply adopted this code of silence as a means of survival. Everything had been tainted such a suspicious color after that first night.
His feet made no sound against the stone floor, even in those heavy, clunky-soled boots. Aya followed suit, keeping her steps light, though her satin slippers would not have made much noise anyways.
When she crossed through the wards into Eris’s rooms, a wall of commotion wrapped itself around her, such a contrast from the silent hall that it made her jump. Eris was cursing and arguing with his mother, the second guard attempting to aid her in holding him down. Aya’s widened eyes flicked to the couch by the hearth where a bruised and bleeding man lay unconscious. Or sleeping. He was nearly a copy of Eris - redheaded and tall, with broader shoulders and bulky muscles.
“They got drunk and had a fight,” Edana sighed as Aya made her way to the big bed.
“Bastard had it coming,” Eris spat loudly, trying again to free his arm from his mother’s grasp."
“Stay still,” Edana snapped, “You were stabbed, for Mother’s sake.”
Aya gasped at that, and Eris turned his head toward the sound. He had not even noticed her come in, too focused on earning his freedom. When his gaze landed on the healer he let out a cry of delight and held a bloody hand toward her without even so much as wincing.
“All is well,” Eris pronounced, “Clementia has arrived.”
“Hush,” Edana hissed, “Or your father will hear you.”
Aya’s skin felt hot, her stomach dropping in fear of the knowledge that the High Lord was at home tonight. She chewed her lip and set her satchel on the edge of the bed. Eris was still as a statue now, watching her with interest.
“Clementia is an angel of mercy,” Edana said to Aya, rolling her eyes as other guard chuckled. “He likes to read mythology.”
Aya’s cheeks burned and she looked down at the heir, his amber eyes fixed on her. She shook her head and grabbed a wet rag from the side table. She was familiar with Clementia’s legend but she had not made the connection of who Eris thought she was.
“Did you receive my prayer of thanks?” Eris asked, a hand clutched to his chest like he must brace himself in her presence. He still did not wince as she pulled up his shirt and began to clean his injury. It was shallow for a stab wound, but it certainly would not heal well if he started thrashing around again. She could humor him if it meant he stayed calm.
The second guard, blond and bearded, started to laugh at Eris’s smitten gaze, but Edana shot him a look that shut him up. The Lady turned her attention to her other son, out cold on the couch.
“Yes,” Aya said to Eris, gently moving away the hand that attempted to cover his wound. His bloody fingers wrapped around hers and held on. It was likely he was so drunk that he was not feeling the full effect of his injury. “It was lovely. Please stay still, Eris.”
“Yes, angel,” Eris breathed.
Aya kept her eyes on her work and did not dare look at the glowering Lady or her giggling guardian. She knew it sounded like a pet name. But she didn’t think she minded much, not with how lovely it sounded falling from his lips.
Eris stayed quiet now, obedient to her every command. He watched her with such reverence in his eyes, as if still surprised she had appeared, worried she may go away again at any moment. If only he knew she was just another healer from the Dawn Court, no benevolent angel of mercy.
She wondered if he’d ever truly know her or if all of their meetings would be this way - inebriated or delusional from blood loss. And she hoped for both their sakes that the next time would be different. And maybe a part of her hoped to meet him in a state where she could really learn something about him. Something to compare to the rumors. All she knew at the moment was that he liked mythology. And that he fought like a hellcat when drunk.
“Beron would not approve of them fighting, would he?” She asked as she worked, her voice soft. Every movement tracked by those diligent amber eyes.
“Not in this manner, no,” Lady Edana answered, returning to Eris's bedside, “Not without his command, at least. He sees more honor in besting each other with strategy.”
Of course he would. Only Beron’s hand could inflict pain. That was how he stayed in control. Everyone else must impress him by playing his games perfectly. Aya had never expected to gain so much knowledge about the Autumn Court’s High Family and everything she learned made her more grateful for her own court and Thesan’s gentle rule. It also illuminated another aspect of Edana's secrecy.
This foolish behavior was a stark contrast to the tales and rumors of the Autumn sons, with their father’s brutality and their mother's brains. It certainly dimmed the intimidation to see that hulking brother passed out, mouth open and drooling on the velvet couch. Whatever Aya saw gave her power. And that golden ring took it away again. Edana did not yet know that she had picked someone with such an ambivalent heart. Capable of indifference and yet undecided.
When Aya finished dressing Eris’s wound and cleaning his filthy hands, she slipped a sleeping pill into his water and gave his shoulder a pat.
“Sleep well Eris,” She said, eager to get away from his relentless stare. Then she turned back and added sharply, “And listen to your mother.”
She shifted, about to make her way to the brother on the couch, but Eris’s voice stopped her.
“May I have a feather?” He asked, his voice remarkably soft compared to his terrible volume control from before.
“What?” Aya asked, hoping their audience did not notice the break in her voice. She knew the myth. That Clementia bestowed a feather upon her favored for luck.
“May I have a feather for luck?” He asked again, the gleam in his eye so hopeful it was almost painful.
For a moment, she considered it. It wouldn’t mean much, it would quiet him down and that would be that. But the weight of the Dawn Court customs would not release her. The tips of her ears grew hot, thinking of plucking a feather and handing it to him. Feathers were for honor, promises, and love. Even in the far friendlier, casual environment of her court, it wouldn't be seen as appropriate.
“You’re lucky enough just to be in her presence, you oaf,” Edana muttered, shaking Aya from her stupor. Eris frowned but he didn’t argue. He looked resigned, like he agreed with his mother's sentiment.
Aya silently thanked Edana and turned her attention toward the couch once more. The brother was not in terrible shape, with just a scattering of bruises and small cuts that would heal by morning. Luckily, he was far too drunk to remember anything by tomorrow. She hoped that Eris would not remember any of this either.
She had not failed to notice Eris’s split knuckles and she wondered what this brother had said to provoke him so. She might have asked, as they had humored all of her questions so far. But it seemed that neither Lady Edana nor her guards wanted to meet her eye as she inspected the younger Vanserra. As if there was something about this fight they were not saying. Or perhaps they were just embarrassed.
Aya told herself she did not care either way. She had decided, throughout the course of this visit, not to ask any more prying questions or sleuth or try to solve anything. She could not help her curiosity, but Thesan had ordered her not to meddle. And every answer to every question sat heavy like a stone in her heart. She did not want to carry all of that with her, anyways. So she finished patching up the anonymous brother, left a tonic one for the now-sleeping Eris, and returned to the comfort of the Dawn Court.
⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☽˚。⋆
The next morning, Eris’s shame pestered him as incessantly as his headache. Twice now, this poor healer had had to witness him in such a pathetic state. Gods knew what he had said last night. His mother wouldn’t tell him. She told him it was his punishment for being so foolish that he had to wonder what embarrassing things he may have said.
The only hint he got was in the note the healer had left him, beside a tin of fresh balm for his scars and a tonic for the hangover.
Drink lots of water, avoid stretching your wound. I look forward to your next prayer of thanks.
Your angel,
Aya
Eris blushed and cursed himself for it. He hadn’t known her name and had gotten into the habit of referring to her as Clementia in his mind. It must have slipped out.
He remembered little glimpses of what she looked like. Warm brown skin, eyes of lilac-grey, and small, capable hands. His fingers went to the wound in his side. Once again, he had been healed impeccably. This one had left a scar barely an inch long.
He had yet to thank her for all that she’d done and he wished that he could. But he did not know where to reach her or what a proper gift might look like.
Without him even realizing, without even having property met, she had begun to haunt his thoughts. Like a guardian angel, only a shadow of wings at the edge of his vision.
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keii · 2 years
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I got married to the love of my life on the 16th ❤️
I was able to celebrate it with all my loved ones and couldn’t have asked for a better wedding.
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kithtaehyung · 6 months
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u suck !! (m) (3tan special) | myg
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3tanoween special: u suck !! pairing: 3tan!yoongi x reader(f)  series: masterlist | three tangerines | fireworks | house party | basketball |  stay |  sidewalk talk | friends | dalo | like that | anytime | sundress season | yoongi’s interlude | forfeit | flutter | video call | busted rating/genre: m (18+) ; angst , fluff , smut ; brother’s best friend au, implied age gap au summary: jimin’s cul-de-sac is filled to the brim with autumn leaves, trick-or-treaters, and halloween spirits. but the scariest part of the night? yoongi himself. and the way he looks downright sinful in his costume. note: BOO!! :))) happy halloween and i love you all so so much. if you haven't read three tangerines or the rest of the series yet, i highly recommend diving into that first! this would make a whole lot more sense lol note 2: this is gonna be heavily unedited bc i literally started it on tues🥹 and consider this a pocket universe/side story for now until i mention anything otherwise :)) warnings: [explicit warnings under the cut] language, house party, alcohol/drug mentions, vampires are present but there’s a different type of sucking going on HEYO!!, tight spaces, yoongiiiiii🥺🥺🥺, one (1) uncomfy hug, jimin is a warning, yoongi is a bigger warning, kissing is a staple warning atp, yoongi in black leather and chains ahahahahah, tension, angst bc it’s me🤪, you have to be quiet :)), but it’s so hard :))), yoongi hands🥴, so many doll mentions, cus this reader is a barbie!!!, this yoongi is out of control and i’m not stopping him 🤷, ermmmmmm yoongi’s voice🧍‍♀️this is all i can say🧍‍♀️, ...VMIN??? drop date: oct. 28th, 2023, 12:17am est  word count: 11.5k🫣
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explicit warnings: choking, head/hair tugging, min yoongi king of consent wbk, fingering, breath play, oral (m rec), ass play, chains lmfaooo, tears, face fucking, back shots, cum swallowing, breast play, protective sex, …public sex🫣, nasty dirty talk, he’s rude and we love it and he knows that we love it😩
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“Oh, did you get the cookies?” 
“Yeah, they’re already in the back,” you huff out as you rush around the car. After getting in and catching your purse strap on your very pink heel, you explain while slipping it free, “And don’t worry, I made un-iced ones for you.” 
Your brother sighs in relief, as if you’ve never done that for him before. “Thank god.” As he backs out of the driveway, he gives your costume another glance. “That damn movie. I feel like I’m gonna see three hundred of y’all tonight.” 
“Barbie was great and you know it.” 
“Whatever. Aren’t you gonna be cold later?” 
“I got this.” 
Steering the wheel, he sighs, “Okay.. You’re gonna regret that.” 
“Yeah, probably.” 
Fixing your tee and smoothing out your skirt, you make a mental note that he didn’t comment the usual things about your costume this time. Whether it’s because you grilled him about the Dalo incident or not, you’re pleasantly surprised. 
The only thing he complained about was that couldn’t dress how he wanted in peace. 
“You still could’ve been Ken, you know,” you think out loud. “All you had to do was throw fur over that jersey.” 
“Nah, the coat I got is expensive as fuck.” 
“So is the jersey?”
“I have two of these.”
“…I will never understand you.”
The drive to Jimin’s isn’t too far, and the streets are already occupied with people in various characters. When you pass by a Ghostface costume with pink heels and a sign that says ‘This Barbie has a knife!,’ both you and your brother give it an approving laugh. 
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If the atmosphere in the neighborhood was buzzing, it’s Jimin’s cul-de-sac that bursts with the biggest Halloween charm. 
Every yard around the semi-circle is chock full of decorations, from the ghoulish to the whimsical. Orange and purple lights scale whole houses, trees are covered in ghosts, and inflatable spiders and kittens rest on every surface you can see. Glee spreads throughout the whole setting as trick-or-treaters of all ages stop along the sidewalks, gawking at the views and running up to doors to procure sweets. 
It’s magical. 
But you can’t enjoy it at the moment because your brother has to park way down the main street. Which means you’re subjected to his teasing as you make the trek in enormous heels. 
Ugh. 
At least he’s carrying everything. 
“Damn, look at that house,” you point, adjusting your purse and almost teetering over.  
“That’s a shit ton of cobwebs.” 
“The lights are so nice, though.” 
“Uh huh.” 
After forever, you finally get to Jimin’s house, going through the open garage and already greeting the yells and hugs upon arrival. Some people are dressed up and some are in their regular clothes, but everyone seems chipper. 
And it’s even louder inside the house. All of you have to practically yell to hear each other. 
“Hey! You made it!” 
Damn, Jimin looks good as a vampire. 
As your brother says hi, you try super hard to not stare at his silver hair, avoiding his bare chest under that ruffled white shirt entirely. “Hey, Chim! You’re all decked out, holy shit.” 
“Ah, thank you! We both are. The lady at the Halloween place gave us a discount.”
“For what?” 
“Uhh, being cute? What else?” 
Adorable. If he went with Taehyung to get costumes, you wonder how extravagant your best friend looks. 
When you laugh, Jimin stops to look at you with his jaw dropped. “Wow, look at you, Barbie!” Turning to your brother, he teases, “You let this happen?” 
“I will throw you against the wall right now, fang boy,” he responds with no hesitation, which pulls a high cackle.
“No fighting tonight, please,” you drone, smiling while giving the handsome vampire a side hug. “Everything looks so good!” 
“Yeah? Spent all day decorating.” 
“Well, it shows.” Noting how Jimin always has great cologne, you take the trays from your brother while asking, “Where do you want these?” 
“Ah, in the kitchen! Here,” he offers, sliding them onto his puffy sleeves. “Follow me. You can see what we have.” 
His cloak brushes both your legs as you’re led into the big area, and your eyes feast on the assortment of themed desserts and drinks. 
Whoa. There’s even a bubbling pot of red punch? Jimin really has gone all out this year. 
Maybe Tae has something to do with this uptick in ambition. 
“Yoongi! You, too?” 
Huh? Him, too? 
“Yeah, it’s fucking hot.” 
Hot? What could possibly be—
Oh. 
Fucking.
Hell. 
It’s your fault for assuming it was Tae that Jimin went to the store with. It’s your fault for not even entertaining the possibility that Yoongi would dress up. 
And it’s all your fault for not being able to process what’s happening because even your own brother teases you when you cannot form words. 
You can’t help it. There’s literally no way. 
Because seeing this man up close, decked out head to toe in shiny black leather and hair properly tousled as if he just had wicked sex? 
How the fuck are you supposed to react! 
“I think you broke a wire in there somewhere,” Jimin comments through puffs of giggles, finally snapping you out of your inappropriately timed trance. “Ah, there she is!” 
Recover. Holy shit, you gotta recover.
“I just—” You gesture to the demon with your hands. “I didn’t think you’d ever dress up.” 
And Yoongi has the audacity to respond with, 
“Why?” 
“I mean. I thought you were..” Flailing for anything, you blurt, “I dunno, boring?” 
Amusement shoots out of both your brother and Jimin, carving a sickly upward curve into Yoongi’s face. When he looks away to poke his cheek, you know something’s coming.
But when he glances back and drags his eyes from your feet to your awaiting face, you're completely unprepared when he drawls, 
“And you dressed basic for what?” 
Disbelief slams your jaw straight into the ground, your little audience bent back with laughs so loud that some people around your group glance over. 
Oh, you wanna launch yourself at him so fucking bad. Wipe that stupid, smug taunt off his face. 
But there are other ways to come out victorious. And you can’t exactly do anything with your sibling so close. 
“Alright. Okay,” you hum, nodding and thinking of a thousand ways to incite revenge in private. “I’ll remember that.” 
“Won’t help you, doll.” 
Shit, did he really just call you that out loud?
Ignore it, ignore it, ignore it he’s just saying that in the open because you’re a Barbie. “Whatever, Neo.” 
Yoongi quickly smiles in confusion. “Neo? I’m a vampire!” 
“Oh, yeah, cus you suck.” 
Your brother and Jimin are full on titillated now. While one blows out air, the other plants a hand on Yoongi’s shoulder while creasing over from glee. 
And you spot your friends arriving, which turns into perfect timing for you to slowly retreat with a middle finger and a lip bite. “Bye, suckas!” 
Your brother can only shake his head before turning to grab a cup, and you barely—just barely—catch the fiendish spark in Yoongi’s eyes as he bites his grin right back. 
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You can’t believe you got through that whole interaction so smoothly. 
Because every time you’ve caught peeks of Yoongi since then, your body’s reaction is downright visceral. Borderline feral.
And it reaches its peak when you get a text from the devil himself.  
Yoongi [10:02pm]: Fuck 
Shit, you can’t do this. 
If you start texting now, too? There’s no way you’re gonna be able to resist him. 
But the two drinks in your system are very smooth talkers, and you’re convinced immediately. 
You [10:02pm]: what🥺 
“Let’s go!” Yuri yells, dragging you along. 
“Where’re we going?” 
“Garage. Table’s about to be open.” 
From the backyard, it takes a minute for you all to weave through the people inside to get to the designated card game area. So you don’t get to read Yoongi’s text until you’re waiting for a table to clear. 
Yoongi [10:04pm]: You know exactly what 
You [10:04pm]: 🤪🖕
Yoongi [10:04pm]: I better not find you alone 
Fuck, you want that. Frankly, there’s literally nothing you want more right now. 
It’s been way too long since you’ve seen each other, and even more since you’ve gotten to do anything that leaves you breathless. 
So being this deprived and witnessing him in that costume? Yoongi’s the vampire but you’re the one that wants to suck the soul out of him. 
You [10:07pm]: maybe i want that 
It’s official. You can’t hold back your replies tonight even if you try. 
Between drinking and a haze of thoughts solely connected to him, you find yourself getting more and more needy. 
Yoongi [10:07pm]: You don’t 
You [10:08pm]: but shyyy 
You [10:08pm]: whyyy* 
This is bad. 
Why can’t he be super annoying instead—
Yoongi [10:10pm]: 🤷‍♂️ 
Well. 
You [10:10pm]: 😐 
Yoongi [10:10pm]: Lmaooo 
Taehyung chuckles next to you, and you immediately lock your phone while giving him a slight nudge. “Shut up…” 
“I will once you stop sexting.” 
“We are not!” 
“Uh huh. And I’m not wearing a suit.” 
Scoffing, you give him a once-over, wondering why everyone except for Yoongi decided to forego a goddamn shirt today. “What are you supposed to even be?” 
“A model.” 
He’s full of shit. “You just wanted to wear this outfit, huh.” 
“Yup.” 
Small huffs leave you both as you wait just a bit longer, and you let the night air and music lift your spirits until you get another text. 
Yoongi [10:13pm]: You look great, doll 
Why does he have to say all the right things?
You truly don’t know how you ended up here. To be able to receive compliments like this from him of all people? It’s a wonder this whole thing isn’t just one big dream. 
Fueled by the excitement and comfort only October can bring, you lean into this conversation and type a genuine reply. 
You [10:13pm]: so do you baby 
You [10:13pm]: i better not find you alone either 
Wait. 
Have you ever been that bold? 
Seems like tonight is making you a bit scary, too. 
Yoongi [10:14pm]: 👀 
And rude. 
You [10:14pm]: 😛😛😛
“Get off your phone, babe! Enjoy the night!” 
“Sorry, sorry,” you whisper, belatedly dropping your device in your purse and following everyone to scraping chairs and rustling clothes. 
The air feels even chillier at the table, and you’re thankful for the warm metal seat this time when your bare skin makes contact. Peering out of the garage, you can see that the night is still active as ever with more and more people walking around. 
Maybe poker and cool autumn weather will quell the heat swirling in your core. 
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Nope. 
Even your card game can’t distract you from what happened. You still have the whole thing running through your mind, replaying Yoongi’s expressions and feeling more and more want build between your legs. 
Under a skirt that's completely the wrong length for how it feels outside.
But you try your best to focus on having fun with all of them, especially since Dom and Tae keep eyeing each other and smirking at you whenever you try to ask what’s up. 
“You know what’s up.” 
“Dom!” 
“Don’t act like we can’t see it.” 
Hiding your smile with a cup, you break, “What!” 
“Babe, you are thinking hard about something,” Dominique points out as she swishes her long white locks—a perfect Storm on your left. As she lays out cards, another comment flies out, “And I don’t like that smile you got going on.” 
“Yeah, what’s that all about!” Yuri joins in, and you pout at her high pigtails while she stares at her hand, chucking her cards in the center. 
Then Reia folds, too, her pretty nails extending the sleeves of her ninja getup so well. “Probably thinking about her boyfriend.” 
“He’s not my—”
Four pairs of eyes instantly give you a look to just give it up already, and you flounder as they all tease you in various ways. 
“Is he coming?” 
“Yeah, are we finally gonna meet him?”
“Yeah, babe,” Tae repeats, resting his smug cheek on a palm. “Are we gonna meet him?” 
Glaring, you respond to the pair of cards in your hand. “Not yet,” you answer honestly. “Call.” 
It’s you against Taehyung, and Dom flips another card in the center. 
“Hold on,” he stops. Turning to you, he bets, “If I win, we get a name.” 
What? 
Gawking, you try to send him every single signal in the universe telling him to take that back. The chills you get compound with the dropping temperatures, and you suddenly can’t move your fingers.
Even Dom is shocked trying to play fair. “Hey, we don’t have to force them.” 
But Yuri and Reia are already all for it, siding with Tae and getting excited for the face-off. 
Shit, shit, shit. Your cards are good, but you never fucking know with your opponent. Someone even more mysterious than Min Yoongi. 
Fuck it. “Fine,” you blurt, watching Tae’s eyes fully enlarge in surprise. 
Oh, shit, did he not expect you to call his bluff? 
Fuck, what if his hand is better! 
Sweating while frozen all over, you wait for Dom to flip the final card. 
Damn, damn, damn. You can just make up a name, right? You can just brush it off with a pseud and call it a night. 
But you know they’d be able to tell you’re lying. So you have to win this, you have to win…
That last card may have just saved your ass.
You and Taehyung give each other a look, and you can’t tell if he wants to beat you or is sad that he thinks he did. Either way, he looks stricken.
“Straight,” he claims, laying down his cards while Yuri and Reia cheer. 
And you breathe, checking your hand one more time before regarding him again. 
With a flourish, you reveal your cards with a boisterous, “Full house, bitches!” 
Loud groans mix with Dom’s close-call hiss of an exhale, and all the slaps on the table get the attention of everyone in the garage. 
And outside of it. 
While you’re raking in everyone’s chips, you glance over to see Jimin and Yoongi looking in from the sidewalk, some of their friends also wondering what the hell happened. 
At this, you get so shy that you don’t even acknowledge them, instead turning right back to the table and sitting down with your winnings. 
When Dom gives you a look, she asks, “You good?” 
“Yeah, yeah,” you stumble, rubbing the cold from your arms. “Let’s keep going.” 
After another shuffle and deal of cards, you finally gain the courage to look out into the driveway. 
Only to see them talking amongst their group again. 
This is agonizing. 
Why the fuck did Yoongi have to dress up? It’s doing things to your insides that you never would’ve guessed, and watching him be all casual while looking like sin incarnate isn’t helping. 
Maybe it’s the way his hair is still so ruffled, or the way his shoulders stand so broad—which never fails to destroy you.
Or maybe it’s the way some people give him the biggest heart eyes and others rope him into pictures, knowing that you’re the one that he just texted. 
Your next hand is quick to be tossed on the table, which gives you a chance to glance again. 
Of course, the thought that some people here are probably ones Yoongi’s been with before awakens darker parts of you. 
Like that girl that just caressed his arm. 
But they aren’t as powerful as before, because you’ve been reassured a thousand times over. 
He’s not like that anymore. 
But as he’s pulled in for a picture with some other Barbie’s, you’re promptly reminded that he’s still not outwardly taken, either. 
Which coaxes another, sadder side of you to come out of hiding, casting a shadow over a fun Halloween night. 
How much longer can you take being the one in the dark? 
Screw waiting to find Yoongi alone.
You’d rather be standing together. 
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Activities bustle about the house while the neighborhood is very much still alive.
Some kids do brave Jimin’s scary yard and, thanks to his foresight, anyone who’s near the open doorway simply tells them to grab as much candy as they want from huge plastic cauldrons—while hiding any drinkware they might be holding. 
The only reason you know any of this is because you found yourself near his front door with your friends, and two tiny witches walk up to the porch with full buckets. 
You and Tae are the ones to greet them, with him beaming a hi and you following up with a question,  
“What’s your favorite candy?”
“Chocolate!”
“I like gummi bears.”
Ah, that might be a no-go for the second one.
Leaning forward, you rummage through one of the plastic bins. “Ooh, I know we have plenty of chocolate, but.. I don’t know if we have gummi bears out here. Tae, can you check inside?”
“Yeah! One sec.”
As he leaves, you keep searching while Reia asks them another question,
“Can we know what spells you ladies are learning?” 
One of them doesn’t respond, but the other in a frilly dress fires out an answer, 
“I’m learning how to turn boys into cats!” 
Excellent. Wide-eyed, you wholeheartedly support their decision. “That’s the best spell to learn. Can I see?” 
“Yeah!” 
Just as timing has it, Taehyung is far gone. 
But a wonderful replacement shows up in Jimin and Yoongi as they're spotted walking across the yard, and you quickly call them over. It seems they’re joined at the hip tonight. 
“What’s up!”
“Come here real quick!”
When they oblige, you check with the parents on the sidewalk and see if you’re taking too long. 
When they give you a thumbs-up, you turn back to the kids, “Alright, let’s see it!”
“Okay!”
Yoongi gives you a look, and you grin. “She’s learning a new spell.” 
As soon as the girl waves her wand, she shouts, “Turn into a cat!” 
Straightforward. Succinct. Admirable.
Jimin immediately lets out a gasp and holds paw hands in front of his face, which makes the little witch giggle like hell. 
But what Yoongi does makes everyone react, and your jaw unhinges while something wildly potent rushes through your stomach. 
The man puts fingers on his head in the shape of cat ears—something you didn’t even know he knew how to do—and in the plainest voice, lets out a low, 
“Meow.” 
Oh. God.
Not only does Jimin burst at the seams, but you, your friends, the little girl, and her quiet companion all start laughing. 
And Yoongi’s wide grin at the child almost brings tears to your eyes. 
“That’s not a cat!” she corrects while smiling, and he’s immediately affronted. 
“Yes, huh!” 
“No!” 
“Look! I have ears!” 
“No! You sound like a human!” 
“You need to keep practicing that spell then!” 
Delighted, the little girls burst into laughter again. 
Who is this man? You feel like you know more about him than you ever hoped to, and yet… Yoongi’s still a mystery. 
One beautiful, scary, amazing mystery that you will never get tired of discovering piece by piece. 
When your thoughts dissipate, you notice that he’s now aiming expectant eyes your way, and your heart beats extra extra loud. 
But quickly, you understand. Raising your arms above your head, you do the same ear-shape with your fingers, beaming when he looks satisfied and feeling full when the little ones try it, too. 
“We’re all cats now!” you exclaim, and they shout in agreement before running down the sidewalk to continue their adventure. 
You have no idea what just happened. Zero clue. 
But what you do know? 
You’re not letting that go. There’s no way Yoongi’s escaping that interaction and you’re gonna hang it over his silly old head forever. 
“I didn’t find gummi bears but we have fruit snacks—oh, they left?”
Swiveling, you regard Tae with shock. “Wait, you really looked that whole time?”
“Ah.. Yeah. Felt bad cus, umm. All the gummies in there are definitely not for kids.”
“Oh, it’s okay.” Chuckling, you give the other two boys a grateful look. “I think they left pretty happy anyway.” 
There’s one other thing you know for sure. 
Seeing how Yoongi can be with children? 
Any sanity you had left to give has been absolutely, positively vanquished.
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Jimin’s whole cul-de-sac seems to always throw parties that people love to stay at. 
An hour later, it’s still packed around the semi-circle of houses, and even you are delightfully buzzed and joining in some of the action. 
But even though the alcohol is helping, you are still freezing. 
Of course, there’s no way you’re letting your brother get another told-you-so in his bucket, so you endure the cold as you watch him and Shiv challenge Yoongi and Jungkook in beer pong. 
To no one’s surprise, the youngest one has also chosen to not wear anything under his white suit. With clattering teeth, you refuse to believe he’s not shivering under that thing, too.
“Y’all took so long to win that one,” your brother shit talks early. “You ready?” 
Kook’s brows pinch as he whines. “I thought he was good at this!” 
“I am!” 
As Yoongi fires off excuses to an unconvinced Jeon, you and a couple people laugh at their spat. But it’s when he claims that he’s just rusty that your sibling interjects, 
“Oh, bullshit, Yoong’s lying! I do all the work when we duo!” 
Ah. There they go. Eyes and mouths adorably creased to hell, “The fuck you don’t!” 
“Oh, yeah? You don’t do shit!” 
“Me? What the fuck happened last time!” 
Gosh, there’s a lot of bodies walking through the backyard right now. You have to shift around as they pass your area, and what the fuck did someone brush your ass? 
You jut your head sideways to see if anyone looks guilty, but the whole crowd just keeps moving. 
Well. It wasn’t a blatant slap or anything. You definitely would’ve thrown hands if that was the case. 
Their argument comes back into focus as you shiver. 
“When?”
“At Hobi’s?”
“Okay, wait, that doesn’t count.” 
“It does—!” 
Your brother’s unannounced shot drills into the cup right in front of Yoongi’s crotch, and everyone around the table stops on a dime. 
“Can we play now?” he asks, tilting his head. “It won’t take long.” 
Shiv adjusts the red cap on his head, and it’s hilarious seeing him so serious in a full pokemon trainer costume. Especially when he shrugs at your opponents while they pin him with annoyance. 
If you weren’t freezing, you would’ve laughed a little more. Your arms are fully caging you in at this point, and it’s hard to even rub your legs together. 
More people walk through the area, and you have to shuffle backwards again to make room as they pass by. 
“You look so good, Barbie!” one of the girls praises, and you compliment her matching aesthetic just as genuinely.
Your brother was right yet again. 
There are plenty of pink and white outfits walking around. 
Unfortunately, this combo that you decided on pulls eyes the whole night, all of which you are choosing to ignore. 
There’s only one person you dressed up for today. Everyone else can take a damn hike. 
Maybe this is why you’ve gravitated towards your brother and his friends instead of wandering more. Taehyung and the girls went back to playing cards, but you wanted to watch this game despite going solo. 
Oh, well. There’s a whole group of you watching and you’re getting a little warmth from body heat now. 
“Course it won’t take long.” Yoongi rubs a wrist, and you puff out air when he gives Shiv flack. “Not with him on your team.” 
“Hey!” 
The game commences, and everyone’s missing cups by the slightest mistakes. But one by one, they get set aside as shots finally start falling for Shiv and your brother, and pretty soon they’re down to the last one while Yoongi and Jungkook have a bunch. 
Frankly, you don’t exactly remember how it all went down. Because all you can think about is how attractive Yoongi looks when he competes.
And watching him dip soaking fingers in water cups isn’t helping your mental in the slightest.
Fucking hell, you didn’t think this through. The price of finally getting to be around him? You can’t do much else except watch.  
And your self-control has never been tested so egregiously in your life. 
“Any last words?” your brother asks, his partner rolling an airy ball in his fingers. 
And Yoongi takes a deliberate sip of his liquor before responding with a drone, “Yeah, hurry up.” 
Smiling, you feel pity for the vampire. Because he’s about to lose whether Shiv makes this or not—which he in fact sinks with no issue. 
Your brother only shrugs as people yell around the table, and you taunt Yoongi with your eyes as he turns to poke his cheek, fishing out the shot with long fingers. 
Still a goddamn menace. 
“I thought you were good at basketball,” Jungkook complains in a huff, roping his attention. 
“I am.” 
“So do something!” 
“Am I holding a basketball?” 
Jeon groans, but Yoongi quickly eyes Shiv with all the confidence in the world as he switches his attitude with a resigned, 
“Fine.” 
And he makes a quick dagger shot, too. 
All of you react as mister basketball holds lazy arms out, and your sibling calms the crowd down with swipes. “Fluke! Nah, hey, that was a fluke!” 
“Don’t listen to him.” 
“Okay then, do it again, bitch.” Immediately, your brother hits a fast one into the same last cup, and people erupt again while Yoongi and Jungkook regard the solo with dread. 
Your laugh seems to reach both their ears, because they both look at you with different faces, 
“Whose side are you on!” 
“You got something to say?” 
“I’m not on anyone’s side,” you clarify with a smile. “You all suck.” 
While Yoongi cocks a brow, your sibling calls you out with a knowing laugh, “You wanna shoot for them?” 
“No, I’ll make it.” 
He chortles again, and you get the strangest look from his best friend—someone that doesn’t know you’ve had plenty of experience doing this with your brother when you were both bored at home. 
Is that pride? Curiosity? An intriguing mix of both? 
Whatever it is, you feel wings flutter about your stomach and fight to keep your emotions internalized.
“Just lose already,” your sibling taunts. “Then we can do that thing Jimin’s talking so much shit about.” 
“The haunted house?” 
“Yeah, that.” 
After both guys fail to make a comeback, you watch your brother and Shiv gloat as much as they possibly can. 
And you’re about to move forward when another group of people blocks your way, damn near tripping as you step back. 
While you’re waiting, a guy spots you and throws his arms up in recognition. “Hey! What’s up, how’ve you been!” 
Huh. 
Who is this man? Are you supposed to know him? 
“Hi!” you call back, deciding to stay polite more than anything else. 
Truly, you kinda feel bad because you have no idea who this is oh he’s going in for a hug. Okay. Strange but that’s whatever okay whoa it’s a full hug. Ah, he’s really squeezing you. Alright. Interesting. 
As he lets go, you try to make small talk and ask how he’s doing. Because you feel terrible for not… remembering him...
He’s already walking away. 
And you feel the most uncomfortable you’ve felt in months. 
Umm.
What the fuck was that? Did he know you or not? 
…Did he just want a hug to feel your tits?
Motherfucker.
Your eyes find Yoongi as soon as you feel an ick, now exceedingly cold both inside and out. All this time, you’ve avoided all the stares and only smiled while politely leaving others behind. 
So to feel that disrespected just because you were considerate makes you want to hurl.  
But when Yoongi moves to strip off his coat, you freeze for another reason. 
Because he’s watching that dude leave. 
Looking pissed. 
Something deep inside of you rumbles to life, and you can’t explain what it feels like wait what’s he doing now? Why’s he walking right towards you why is he—
He’s not—
What is he doing?
He’s not gonna—not in—not in front of everyone, right? Not in front of your brother, right? 
Right?
…This is bold as fuck. 
Your denial is so substantial that you don’t even move when he gets close, handing you incredibly warm material and looking murderous in a black tee and pants. 
“Here,” he offers, voice hardened gravel. “Put it on, doll.” 
Damn. No subtlety this time?
You don’t even wanna know what your brother could possibly look like right now. All you feel are several eyes watching your every move, including some that aren’t particularly friendly. 
But you whisper out a quiet thank you before he shakes his head. 
“I should’ve done this sooner.”
“You didn’t know.” 
“Doesn’t matter.”
When you take one look at his expression, you drop any other sentences you were gonna say. 
Yoongi is actually furious.  
Your stomach churns up a flurry of emotions as he turns, nodding to your brother that’s looking over with Shiv. 
Ah, fuck. Did all of them see that, too? 
They don’t need to do anything drastic. You’re fine if just.. feeling a little violated. 
Okay maybe you’d look the other way if they avenged you.  
“Y’all good over there?”
“Yeah.” 
Oh. Your brother didn’t see a thing. 
That’s probably best for everyone involved. 
“Let’s go then!” he yells, finishing his drink while Shiv puts all the cups back in place.
And Yoongi stays next to you, not caring if people give him looks. “Come on,” he mutters. “Just stay with us.” 
“Okay.” 
No other words are spoken as you walk out the backyard. 
But when Jimin pops up with Taehyung and your friends, Yoongi pulls him aside while you ask how the poker games went. 
The usual comments spring up immediately. Yuri complains about Taehyung being too good, and Dom and Reia quickly tell her she needs to work on her face. 
Laughing the edge off, you see your brother checking his phone. 
And just like the shadowed expression Jimin now has on his face, the hand your sibling smoothes over his head doesn’t seem like a good sign.
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The haunted house was amazing, and it was a wonder you got through it in your shoes. 
But you need a break after all that screaming. And you already spent a lot of time saying goodbye to your friends before they left. 
So instead of joining Taehyung and his group in conversation, you keep to your own thoughts, sipping on punch while watching balloons cross kitchen tiles. 
Ironically, you need anything to get through the loneliness. 
Even more people latched onto Yoongi earlier. Which you should’ve seen coming after his whole ensemble was revealed. 
But he had to keep them entertained because he isn’t taken. Not officially; not to them. There couldn’t be hints of him being cuffed, especially when your brother could see him at any moment. 
Did you feel jealous? Upset? 
To your pleasant surprise, not really. 
Because unlike New Years, there’s been more history between the both of you that can never be repeated anywhere else. Ties that have woven between your bones and connections that you have no plans to sever. 
You cherish them. And you’d like to think that he does, too. 
All the flirting just sucked to see up close, though. 
A sudden tap on your shoulder makes you jump. 
“Fuck, sorry. You okay?”
As you see your brother and not another stranger, relief floods your system. And you hate how jumpy you are. 
So you lie a bit. “Yeah, why?” 
Hmm. He looks… out of sorts. You’re halfway into questioning the bend in his brows when he quickly asks, 
“You good to go home with your friends?” 
Wait, huh? That’s new. “Oh. They left but Tae’s here. You okay?” 
“Something came up at work so I’m heading back.” 
“The fuck? On Halloween?” 
He shakes his head before running a hand over his chin. “Yeah, I dunno. But if you don’t wanna leave just have him bring you back.” 
Damn. He’s not even concerned about you staying? What the hell is going on? 
And thinking about things… do you wanna stay anyway?
Looking out into the house, you do a quick sweep before deciding that you’re gonna tough this night out. Taehyung’s still here, and you can hang with his circle. 
You’re staying. Wishing for the best, you let him go. “K. Hope it’s all good.” 
“Nah, it’s fine. I just have to clean up someon's mess.” Your sibling squeezes your shoulder in a final goodbye before stepping away. Pointing to the ground, he warns, “No one better try shit with you.” 
“Go,” you usher with finality. “Text me when you’re home.” 
“K.”  
He heads out, and you’re left with your cup that you forgot you even had. 
Staring into it, you somewhat wish you heard a familiar laugh in your ears. Throwing yourself back to that New Years night when Yoongi hung back in the kitchen just to talk. 
Maybe he’s still preoccupied. Even after you gave him back his coat, ignoring his look of confusion.
After another half hour of feeling alone, with no vampire man in sight, you admit you're a little defeated. 
Maybe you should have left, too. 
Your purse buzzes, and you slowly fish out your phone while not looking at anything in particular.
But when you focus on your screen, your heart squeezes in double time. 
Yoongi [12:43am]: Where are you?
Feeling a mix of emotions—relief, confusion, anything in between—you text back. 
You [12:43am]: kitchen. but i was about to leave..
Yoongi [12:44am]: Don’t
Yoongi [12:44am]: Gimme a sec 
This is it. 
This is why you stayed. 
Because one thing Yoongi has always proven to you is that he will make time. Whether it takes him a day, three months, or two hours. 
Yoongi [12:50am]: Come up, doll
And you will wait forever. 
However long it takes.
You [12:51am]: ok
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It’s a short trip up the stairs from near the kitchen, and you wonder what’s gonna greet you when you get to the second level.
Are people up there? Is he just telling you to come so he could be near you? Or is this a clandestine meeting where he steals you from the night like the fiend he’s dressed as? 
All of these thoughts wander about your head like specters. 
But as soon as you reach the top, all you see is Yoongi, glancing up from his phone before stowing it in a coat pocket. 
So unfair.
In the obnoxiously red and orange lighting, he looks even more devastating, standing like he’s been haunting your dreams for years. 
And you hate how small your voice is when you greet him with a measly, “Hi..” 
Very much unlike yours, Yoongi’s energy is loud. Powerful. He takes his time, consuming you with his gaze and making you feel so, so shy in heels that are somehow still on. 
“Come here.” 
“You sure?” 
He hesitates. 
And with a heavy heart, you wonder if he has the same question. 
But he walks toward you instead, and you feel vulnerable. Nervous. 
What’s he doing? What are either of you doing?
There’s a lot of people here still, and it’s not like they don’t know you. And they clearly know Yoongi quite fucking well.
God. You hate this uncertain, murky feeling. Because it could be solved so simply, so quickly. 
But nothing in life is ever quite that easy for you, nor for him. So the paranoia lingers and lingers. 
However. 
When this man leads you away from the stairs, your fear spins into thrill, your nervousness taking on a new meaning. 
“Yoongi…?” 
With a shuffle of leather, you’re positioned right in a corner, breath catching because holy shit anyone could come up at any moment. 
Why is Yoongi not nearly as concerned as you feel? Is he not jittery with nerves? 
Judging by his lowered lids and unbothered line of lips, no, he is not. 
As he looks around, warmth from his coat slowly swallows you on both sides. His hair cascades forward; his breath can be heard in the space between.
And you really do feel like he steals you away—from the night, the party, the world.
“Now what,” you whisper in pure nervousness. “Gonna bite me? Drink me? Suck me… Dry…”
His lips ghost along your neck, and you grant him all the access you have when he murmurs, 
“Is that what you want?”
Your check for understanding is a sigh, “Want…hmm?”
“Me to suck you dry.”
You know what he means. And you’re already fighting for air as your exhale shakes. “Yes,” you admit. “Lemme do it, too.” 
His dark hum rumbles your core. “Uh uh,” he rejects, one arm separating you from the rest of the room. “Only good girls can do that.”
That’s unfair. Fuck, that is really unfair.
You pant before gripping his coat in your fingers. “I’ll be good.” 
“You’ll be what?” he asks, licking a small stripe along your throat and making you flinch. 
“Fuck.” Your breath is harsh now. Very, very harsh. “A good girl.”
“Good.” 
You feel the slightest nick of teeth as he lunges into your neck, and you have to clamp your lips shut to keep from mewling out loud. 
Holy fuck, you’re already so wet.
There’s no way Yoongi can suck you dry at this point. Certainly not with the limited amount of time you have.
And the motherfucker knows it, his laugh pulsating down your spine. “So sensitive.”
“Yoongi—”
Again, he attacks, sucking hard once before running his tongue along the sting. 
Thoroughly overwhelmed, you dissolve into mush. Your legs buckle under the pleasure, sparks of desire firing along your limbs as your ankles work double to keep you upright. “Baby...”
“You taste so fucking good.” 
More. You need more and you need it now. “I wanna—”
Without warning, his lips finally find yours, arms fully encasing you in leather as he slams both hands on the wall. 
“Yoo—”
And your heart leaps into the kiss while your fingers zip right to his face, tugging him in until your noses smush. 
For someone with a million concerns before, you’re devouring him without any shits given and it’s magnetic. Electric. Magic. Sparks zip down your skin, pebbling your nipples and sending your toes in curls. 
Hints of whisky and smoke pepper your tongue, and you know your breath proved similar if just a bit more reserved.
But you can tell something’s off.
He’s holding back.
Why? Why are his hands still firmly on the wall? Why is he keeping his distance even though you’re standing right here?
If you’ve been fiending to touch him the whole night, he had to be feeling the same way.
So what’s with the sudden hesitation?
Your body thrums with need, yearning for those large palms to roam and venture across every inch. Aching for him to erase that stupid hug from earlier in a way only he can. 
“Baby,” you whisper. “Please.” 
“Please what.” 
“I need you.” 
“I’m right here.” 
“No, I”—you grip one of his wrists—“Please touch me.” 
“In here?” He pauses, pinning you with concern. “You sure?” 
Swallowing, you take in the music and conversations downstairs, hearing laughs and other exclamations. 
Were they always that loud?
“I’m doing this for your own good, doll.” 
Heart stuttering hard, you question, “Why?” 
Yoongi only lets out a huff. “Cus…” Leaned in fully, his hot breath fans your face, all of his dark syllables drenching you in hellfire, 
“If I touch you, I’m not gonna stop.” 
“Fuck,” you rush out, breathing so hard your chest billows out. “I want that.”
“You don’t.”
Fuck yes, you do. You aren’t letting another chance pass by. You’re feasting on him whether it’s for two seconds or one thousand, and he’s gonna do the same to you. 
Because as much as he’s holding back, you can tell he wants nothing but to tear you apart. A monster in the red lights strung around the game room.
And you’ll let him.
Consequences be damned. 
“I do,” you finally admit with a whoosh. “I don’t give a shit right now, Yoongi, just do it—”
Any other words are snatched from your mouth as you’re pinned against the wall, your reward in the form of rough skin and thick leather sliding all along your sides. 
Immediately, the coil in your belly rumbles to life, tightening click by thrilling click as you tug him in even closer.
Between kisses, you grit out how stupidly attractive he looks, and his chuckles are so dark that you feel them shake your core.
“Thought I was boring.”
Another groan into his mouth. “You know I didn’t mean that.”
“Say sorry then.”
It’s your turn to giggle, “And if I don’t?”
Fingers ghost along your throat before they squeeze in warning. “Try it.”
Attempting a whine, you press your shoulders back into the wall, fingers still clinging to his dark shirt. “I kinda… I kinda want to.” 
“I know you do.” He shoves one of your legs away with a strong thigh, pushing his weight forward and accusing, “Wanna be a brat so bad, huh.”
Desire is doing wonders for your confidence. You’re not gone, but you’re influenced enough to let your thoughts flow. 
All you needed was the last hit of this man’s magnetism. “Wanna be a lot of things for you..” 
Amusement rumbles out like thunder. “Like what.”
Giggling, you admit, “I didn’t dress like this for nothing.”
“I know.” He kisses you in a way that has you swooning. “I could get used to this.” 
“This wouldn’t get old?” 
“Fuck no.” His hands move straight to your ass. “Not if it’s you.”
Confused, you pout in a whine. “You said it was basic.”
“It is.” He goes right for your neck for another feast. “And it’s fuckin’ hot.” 
He then nips your skin in earnest, tugging his name out of your throat and causing you to claw into his hair.
“That guy just wanted to feel me,” you suddenly sigh, hating how you’re still thinking about it even now. 
“I know.” Yoongi stops before watching your eyes. With a finger on your chin, he checks, “You okay?”
“Just make me forget it.”
He keeps his gaze on you for a moment more, forehead pressing against yours before he vows, “You will. He won’t.” 
And your lips are fully captured before you can respond. 
You missed this. You missed this so fucking bad and you’re pretty sure you’re saying everything out loud but you don’t mind. Yoongi deserves to hear it and you are gonna live this out to the fullest.
If he doesn’t hear you, he certainly feels you. In the way you rake at his hair, tug at his chest, sling your arms around his beautiful neck.
But your frantic actions are stopped when he growls,
“Fuck, you shouldn’t’ve come up here.” 
“Wait, why—”
“Cus now I’m—Fuck it, come on.”
Before your mind catches up, your body is being rushed into the nearest door: a guest room that’s surprisingly not occupied. 
“Yoongi, what—” 
He holds a finger on his lips before peeking through the door, and he shuts it with a click when he seems convinced. 
And you’re even more alone with the demon of your dreams—now shrouded in bright white from the string lights in this space.
You have no choice but to submit to his hands, stomach flipping as he seizes your lips with newfound energy. When you respond in kind, he backs you up until your legs hit the guest bed, setting off another alarm in your fizzing brain.
“Baby, you sure?”
“I won’t do much.” Yoongi lowers you down, steadying himself on an elbow. “Do you trust me?” 
“Yes.” His gaze is steady on yours. “Nervous, though.” 
Because it’s true. Even if your brother isn’t in the house, there’s a high possibility one of his friends walks through that door. One of Yoongi’s friends, even. 
“We don’t have to, doll.” 
And if you’re honest… 
The thrill of it is enticing.
“We can.” 
“I got us,” he assures with a kiss, now grinning like mad. “Lemme live this out just once.” 
A bit shy, you bite your lip to combat your nerves. And the million butterflies raging in your ribcage. “And what would that be.” 
“Not telling.” 
Of course. “You suck.” 
Puffs of mirth leave his mouth before he consumes you, and you feel unbelievably scandalous and loving every second. 
Because you saw Yoongi leave the door unlocked. There’s no recovering if someone opens it without you both hearing them, because the closet is opposite from the bed. You will absolutely not get there in time. 
Be it the holiday itself, or the fact that Yoongi’s positively enjoying himself, you feel more enthralled by the danger than you’ve ever been. 
And the fluttering in your chest triples when he lifts your tee. “Baby—!”
“Chill, love,” he laughs, a glint in his eye as he kisses your bra. “Never done this before?” 
“No, but—fuck.” 
Your soft moan stems from him slipping your bra down, licking at your chest and groaning at your scent. 
“God, you’re so perfect.” 
Fervently disagreeing, you reply so lightly, “Not at all.” 
“You are.” Another kiss to your lips before he moves down to your throat, squeezing one of your breasts with purpose. His weight feels heavenly on your torso, which you label the most ironic given how sinful he looks. “Couldn’t fucking wait to get you alone.” 
Fucking hell, do you feel the same. Truthfully, you didn’t think you’d even get the chance. As you arch into his chest, your bare skin heats under his mountain of dark clothes. “Wanted to be with you all night…” 
“Same.” The next kiss proves deep, and he slides a hand under your head to claim as much of you as he can. His lips leave yours with a pop before he grips you with conviction. “Fuck, you should’ve been.” 
Oh. 
You know why he’s holding you so hard. 
And it touches the deepest, softest parts of your soul. 
Gently holding his taut wrist, you whisper, “It’s okay, baby.” 
His eyes stay closed, blocking you from hearing anything that he could be thinking. 
But it’s your turn to lift his chin with a finger, and you reassure him with everything you have, 
“Nothing happened. Don’t worry, okay?” 
Yoongi still doesn’t answer, which makes you sad. One dude shouldn’t ruin both of your moods hours after the fact. He can eat shit and Yoongi deserves to be the one enjoying a perfect night. 
So you vow to make that reality. 
“Besides,” you continue, waiting until he finally looks at you. When he does, you slyly smooth both hands over your breasts, pushing them together right in front of his face. “These are yours, right?”
Like a switch abruptly flipped, Yoongi’s whole demeanor changes on a dime. 
Hungry eyes rake over your chest before he plants a kiss on your fingers before anything else. “What else is mine.” 
Your cunt quakes at the question, making you drag one of his hands down to the side of your ass. “This,” you whisper, biting back glee as he grabs right at it. 
His mouth hovers over yours now, voice so low it sounds more like distant thunder, “What else, doll.” 
And whatever made you so bold washes away in an instant. Because you know what you wanna say but it’s the hardest one to let fly. 
Of course, Yoongi knows this. It’s the only reason he’s being so cheeky about it now. “That it?” he asks with a lilt. “You sure?” 
Gnawing your lip, you shake your head, garnering more and more courage to tell him one last answer. 
“Don’t be shy,” he orders through a wicked grin. “Tell me.” 
Just say it. All you have to do is whip it out of your mouth and you can get on with it—
A bunch of voices start getting louder and louder from outside the door, and Yoongi reacts before you can process what to do. 
Tee shoved back on and skirt rumpled to hell, you’re quickly rushed to the closet, thankful that Jimin’s house is fucking enormous and gives every bedroom double-doored enclosures for clothes. 
Conversation gets even closer. Someone is definitely coming in holy shit shit shit. 
Adrenaline courses through your veins as you settle on a sidewall, and the fact that there’s enough room for you to stand sideways is enough to distract your harrowing thoughts. 
But Yoongi shuts the doors with practiced ease, dousing the space in darkness with only small strips of light to illuminate. 
So fucking unfair. 
Just him peeking through the crack in the doors makes you suffer, chains dangling from his chest and the mischievous glint in his eyes giving you pain. 
Why does his side profile have to be so perfect? Why is this bad boy adjacent version of him enough to send you into orbit? 
Suddenly, two voices burst into the room. 
And you recognize both of them. 
“—like you said, right?” 
“I know, but…” 
It’s Tae. 
And Jimin. 
“Then hey,” you hear your friend say with hope. “It’s okay.” 
The coincidence of those words in that room does not get past you. 
“You really think so?” 
There’s a bit of silence before Taehyung responds, but you suddenly get distracted by someone much, much closer. 
Because Yoongi’s slowly roaming a finger along the hem of your skirt, hooking it in and slowly tugging you forward what the fuck!
When your wide eyes meet his, you can tell he’s thoroughly enjoying this. And you have to clamp your mouth shut when he casually starts feeling over your shirt.  
What the fuck is he doing! 
This man is going to be the end of you. 
“So yes. Let’s go back down, yeah?” 
“Okay… Just give me a moment.” 
Delirium. You’re approaching delirium as Yoongi now watches you suffer, and you buckle when he travels under your tee—up, and up, and impishly ducking his thumb under your bra. 
And you almost can’t deal with the feeling. 
Because your senses are upped to the highest setting, body on full alert and having to keep quiet when at his mercy. 
You feel legitimately wild, mad, drunk off Yoongi’s presence alone. There are literally people on the other side of thin wood and he’s driving you up every closet wall in the house. 
Out of your mind, you aim for his neck when you launch your own silent ambush. 
And it’s his turn to suffer when you grab at his chains, because you tug him enough to get access to his neck as soon as you hear your friend again. 
“Even this room looks nice and it's unused. Seriously, you did a good job.” 
“Most of it was your idea.” 
“Me? I only suggested it because I knew you could do it.” 
Yoongi’s breath puffs over your shoulder, and he buries his head in your tee while you lick and suck him with a vengeance. His hands grapple your hips, taking no time in circling back over your ass. 
“Thanks. Okay, I’m ready.” 
“Finally. It was getting boring in here.” 
A laugh tinkers out before Jimin hums in confusion. 
“Weird. Thought I told people to not touch this bed.” 
“You just sat on it.” 
“I didn’t sit on that side.” 
Taehyung responds right as you grope Yoongi’s crotch, and his body locks so hard you flinch at his grip.  
“It’s probably nothing. The bed’s still made.” 
“Yeah, you’re right.” 
Mercifully, the guest door opens again before shutting, and you’re left in the weighty silence and faint bass of music coming from downstairs. 
Adrenaline still at its peak. 
“You’re gonna pay for that.” 
“Says you,” you pant, mewling when his lips latch onto your neck for the umpteenth time. “What do we do now?” 
After another suck, Yoongi lifts his head. “With what?” 
“This,” you clarify, gesturing to the closet space. “We have to leave, right?” 
“Do you want to?” 
You pause. 
If you leave now, you can sneak out of the room and no one will ever know you spent seven minutes in heaven with Min Yoongi. 
But if you stay… 
“Not really,” you whisper in admittance. “You?”
“Fuck no.” 
Your giggles end up in his mouth when he claims you, and you grab at his chains in earnest, tugging him closer before raking impatient fingers through his ruffled locks. 
And you’re already fine with this situation. Making out with this man in a closet? Who would’ve thought you would have this opportunity in the history of ever? 
So when you feel wandering fingers between your legs, your reaction comes out a high mewl. “Wait—What are you—”
“Careful, doll,” Yoongi quells. “Gotta keep that mouth shut, yeah?” 
You nod before realizing he probably can’t see, so you whisper an affirmative before slamming your lips shut. 
Because one touch of his fingers on your covered slit has you already losing it. 
A manicured hand slaps over your mouth as you widen your legs, gripping his coat with the other as he surrounds you mentally and physically. All you can think about is the way he’s calmly shifting your panties, expertly sliding over your cunt and chuckling right in your ear. 
“You’ve been this wet this whole time?” 
Gasping, you hum out a yes, and Yoongi laughs the scariest you've ever heard him,
“Nah, we’re fucking in here.” 
Holy fuck, what? 
“Baby,” you plead in his ear, wanting him in every way possible but knowing you don’t have a condom. “We can’t.” 
“Why not?” 
“We don’t have—”
“Yeah, we do.” When he senses your confusion, he peeks out the closet door before... leaving. 
What the fuck! What is he doing why is he going for a casual stroll with a boner right now? 
Oh, he’s back already. But you’re still holding your heart with a goddamn fist. 
When Yoongi holds one up, he laughs. “I actually didn’t know if he had some up here, by the way.” 
“Sure you didn’t.” 
He smirks before pocketing the package, grabbing your face and kissing all the lingering fright from your features. His tongue slides all along yours before he sucks, and his teeth drag over your plush when he lets go. “You down?” 
Drunk off his continuously great make-out sessions, you slur out, “Hmm?” 
“We don’t have to.” 
Your smile is automatic. Knowing Yoongi’s still asking even though he was dead set on it makes giving him the go-ahead even easier. 
But you both hear another smatter of activity in the game room outside. And it seems like people are starting to use the pool table. 
Fuck. 
Do you really go for it? 
You’re gonna have to be silent as the grave if you do, because this will be the most sordid position you can be found in. 
…Fuck it. Screw it. It’s Halloween and you’re dancing with the devil. 
“Yes we do,” you scoff. “But if you break my heels we’re gonna fight.” 
His quiet bout of laughs makes you melt, and his fingers feel positively intoxicating when they find your cunt again. 
Your shoulders hit the wall with a soft bump as you arch, back to sewing your mouth closed and smushing your head in his clothes. His name slips out on your breaths, and his growls make you quiver with more and more impatience, 
“So fucking wet.” 
Fuck. 
“Gonna take this dick so well.” 
Nope. You can’t wait anymore. You don’t care who the fuck is out there, you’re folding and folding fast. 
“Please, baby,” you pant. “I need you. Now.” 
Yoongi obliges immediately, spinning you around and pinning your front against the wall. 
Well, you think he’s on the same page. 
Until he clamps a hand over your mouth before fingering you from behind holy fuck you might come any moment now. 
Your hands slide into fists on the wall as you moan in his fingers, shoving your ass back to glean as much delicious friction as you can. 
“There you go,” Yoongi praises. “Just like that.” 
You’re gonna come. You’re already gonna come and he’s hitting every fucking spot to speed up the process. It’s almost unbelievable how quickly he can launch you off the edge, but you suspect this time has something to do with the thrill of your whole situation. 
You feel bad. 
And it feels fantastic. 
“Babe,” you whisper, turning your head. “I’m already close.” 
When you clasp a hand around his wrist, he finally finally finally grants you into heaven’s gates. You feel him let up, and you wait with tiny shakes as he rips the condom pack open with ease. The clink of his belt tickles your ears just right, and you quickly think about other dark things. 
After a moment and more clothes shuffling, you feel his hands slide along your hiked up skirt before gripping your ass, never failing to worship your body and making you feel fucking pretty. 
When he leans forward, his warm shirt and chilly chains on your bare skin alone push you even further. “Hands over that mouth, doll,” he rasps in your ear. “Can’t be loud for me this time.” 
“Mmhmm.”
“Good girl.” 
As soon as you do what you’re told, you regret not pressing down harder. 
Because Yoongi plunges into you so smoothly that your moan almost flows right out of your fingers. 
Holy shit you really were that wet. But he's still so big. So, so big, and filling you too well fuck are you being too loud because it feels so fucking—
“Thought you were just gonna dip without saying bye?”
Oh, fuck.
Yoongi did not wait until he was inside of you to say that.
“Think you’d just show up looking cute and talk some shit, huh.”
Damn it. He did. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he’s a demon and you have nowhere to run now. 
Delightfully frightened, you shake your head in denial. Repeatedly and full of terror.
“Show me up then.”
He stops all his movements, and you’re left to your own devices. Stranded on his dick with only the wall and your heels to support you.
Oh, he’s a killer. 
And he’s all yours.
Thrusting back, you start slow, groaning into your hand at how large he is. It’s a wonder you can even move, and your jaw unhinges when you feel his dick hit a certain spot just right.
Again, and again, you fuck him as deep as you can take, slamming your ass into his pelvis and finding pride in the divots he’s sinking into your cheeks.
Yoongi’s still unhelpful, but you can tell he’s breaking. His grip is getting harder, his minuscule groans lower and more forced. Even the tiniest curse makes you preen, and you throw a look over your shoulder to hear him better.
Which is the worst best thing to do. 
“Fuck, doll.”
With quickness, he rams himself into you, a sweaty hand clasping right over yours just as you yelp.
“We aren’t finished with that,” he promises through gritted teeth, and he takes over before you can process what that means. 
And his pace is relentless, pumping into you so well that every thrust catapults you across space and time. 
You’re outright panting now, feeling him deep in your guts and the strong lines of his forearm pressed into your chest. 
“Breathe in for me.”
And you do, feeling his hand close around your throat while fingers lodge themselves inside your mouth. 
Fuck! 
Your eyes roll so far back you can probably see him if you had light, and you’re mercifully let go before you need to gasp for oxygen. 
“Again.”
When you obey, Yoongi chokes you again, and you’re finding it euphoric as he clasps your column even harder. Every time he does, you clench around his cock, and a warm feeling washes over you every time he lets go. 
“How’s that feel, baby girl,” he asks, humming in approval when you drag a reply out,
“So good.” 
“Good.” He kisses your sweaty cheek before easily admitting, “I like it, too.”
Stilling, you turn as far as you can to regard him, asking in the tiniest voice, “You do?”
He darts his eyes to your lips before nodding. “You can try it next time.”
You smile, not knowing why you feel shy in this position of all things. But maybe you’re just happy that he said that. Because he didn’t need to admit something so intimate in the moment. 
“We’ll do whatever you want,” you vow in a murmur, closing your eyes when he captures your lips.
After sliding a tender hand down your cheek, he whispers, “Turn around.”
You immediately do, untwisting your back and relieving the tension in your neck. When you slowly move to face Yoongi again, he steadies you the whole way. 
And as soon as you’re settled, he kisses you so hard you fall back against the wall again. 
Hands come up to shove your tee upward and unhook your bra, and he gropes at your chest before ducking to take a nipple in his hot mouth.
Surging with pulses, you bury your face to muffle your moans, squeezing your eyes shut from pure ecstasy.
How the fuck are you doing this? With him? If you travelled back in time to tell yourself that this was gonna happen at a party someday, you would’ve been told to piss off. 
“Love these tits,” Yoongi grits. “Fuck.”
“I didn’t wanna wear a bra.”
He immediately chuckles. Darkness and sin brushing your chest. “I would’ve left.” 
You hum in mirth, knowing exactly what he means by that. As much as you wanted to tease him, you know that decision would’ve immediately gotten him in trouble. 
And definitely other people, too.
But the more he keeps licking and sucking, the more you feel it coming. Release. The inferno. It’s on the horizon and you’re just awaiting the crash of relentless deluge.
“There you go,” he rumbles. “You gonna come?”
You pant out before nodding, every muscle thrumming like hell. 
And he orders low in your ear, yanking your orgasm right out of your very center,
“Then come for me, doll.”
Your body wracks with jolts, stabs of lightning hitting every limb and locking them at hard angles. A rush of pleasure surges through, filling the closet with a heady scent that makes Yoongi groan pride into your neck.
“Uh huh,” he praises. “Still wanna talk shit?”
And you do. Tears leak from your eyes as you nod, orgasm riding farther than ever, waves unending and your mental shore nowhere in sight. 
“Course you do.” Yoongi claims your mouth. “Fuckin’ love it.”
Still, you feel pulled, lost to the universe that’s him and him alone, and you want to reciprocate the same pleasure that he’s providing. 
“Baby, I’m still—”
“Fuck—”
You don’t know what comes over your brain, or your body, or whatever else runs on autopilot. But you use the rest of your strength to shove him back, pushing him until he hits the other wall of the closet.
“D—”
You rush out a question before lowering yourself, “Did you come?”
“No, but—”
“Take it off.”
Stunned, Yoongi rushed to unsheath the wrapper, rubbing himself before you take control. 
Nothing will stop you at this point. Anyone could come in and you’d still be pleasuring Yoongi until he breaks. 
Because you want this. He’s earned this. 
Your knees hit the ground right as you take him in your mouth, tasting the strange mix of salt and latex but knowing it won’t be for long. 
This is what you’ve been wanting to do since he gave you his goddamn coat, and your imagination has been so vastly outdone by reality that you feel like none of it’s truly happening. 
When you flick your eyes upward, you get another thing you’ve been yearning for. 
Yoongi is fighting for his life. 
You can barely see that his eyes are squeezed tight, and you catch a tiny glimpse of his mouth agape before he bites it shut. When you suck in hard, his whole body flinches, and for the first time that night, he’s the one with a hand over his mouth. 
And you feel so fucking elated that you welcome the hot strings of cum painting your mouth, groaning around him and giggling when his essence slips right down your throat. 
He’s promising dark and wonderful things above your head, and you feel him grip your chin as soon as you pop off of his dick.
“Open that mouth.”
You show him, hoping he can tell in the dim light that there’s no drop left on your tongue.
“Goddamn.”
You’re tugged up before your mouth is smothered by his, and you teeter on your heels for balance as he whips you back against a solid surface.
It looks like he wants to say something. 
But nothing comes out as he clenches a fist next to your head. 
As you both calm, only your breaths fill the closet, your scents of passion clinging onto coats and jackets, all of which you could’ve worn in place of the one he gave you. 
But Yoongi did something so bold tonight that it was only natural for you to want to take the same risk. 
As he kisses you slow, you respond in kind, rolling your lips with his and enjoying coming down from this high with him every time. 
Shouts and yells from the game outside pierce into the closet, but both of you exist in your own little world. With you tracing the lines of his shirt and him gently straightening your clothes. 
“Thank you,” you whisper.
“For what, doll,” he asks in return. 
“Making me yours.” When you slightly pull on his jacket, you hope he gets what you mean. “Even if no one else knows.” 
His tiny peck on your cheek is genuine and, if you aren’t mistaken, a little prideful. “They’re going to, doll,” he vows into your skin. “I told you, you're gonna get tired of me.” 
"Lies," you sigh in peace. “So I get Halloween pictures with you next time, too?” 
Yoongi freezes, standing straight before fishing out his phone. 
And you fuss up a quiet storm before he lets you fix yourself, smiling at his camera as he squishes his sweaty, satisfied as fuck face right next to yours. 
If anyone ever comes across those pictures on his phone, you will never ever tell them the context. They'll never know why your makeup looks like that, or why his hair is even more haphazard, or why you both look way too happy to be in a closet.
Even if they frightened you to death. 
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Some time later—and after a stressful time sneaking out with a smug Yoongi in tow—you find yourself downstairs and heading out the door with Taehyung. 
After he asks where you were, you simply tell him the truth: you were with Yoongi. And end it at that. 
With one look at your neck, he hums in amusement.
And you immediately slap a hand over it in shock, embarrassed to hell when he laughs.
But you let Tae tease you all the way home, knowing that you also caught a small glimpse of his life with Jimin. Not that you’ll tell him that until months from now. 
When your phone buzzes, you immediately check what awaits you. 
And you dissolve into mush yet again.
Yoongi [2:45am]: Text me when you’re home 
You [2:45am]: but im not going to your place :((  
What is home, if not where you feel the most at peace? Where you feel like you can be yourself and not worry about sneaking around? Where you know someone will protect you and be that person you can go to without any questions asked? 
Yoongi [2:47am]: Next Halloween you will be 
It’s definitely with Yoongi. 
Right now, you know your home is with him. 
Smiling, you type another text, full of contentment and looking towards the day all of this can be lived the way you both want. 
You [2:47am]: turn into a cat 
Yoongi [2:47am]: 😒
Taehyung looks at you when you laugh, and his grin grows when he can tell you’re genuinely happy. 
And when Yoongi actually sends you a selfie matching the ear gesture he did earlier, you feel the endearing prick of hot tears in your eyes. 
Yoongi [2:49am]: 1 Attachment 
He has a distinct matching mark on his neck.
And you are one thousand percent sure he took the picture knowing it's visible.
Yoongi [2:50am]: Meow :)
Happy Halloween indeed. 
end :)
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🍊ahhh what do we think !!🍊| join the taglist!
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a/n: thank you all for reading! i know this is super super late to post but i wanted it to be decent for y'all before letting it free. if you did enjoy, please interact however you can! even a like is okay at this point, but all tags, reblogs, comments, messages, and submissions in the feedback box are super appreciated.
a/n 2: to any men reading this series, let me tell you.. that hug situation happened to me and some people i know and it suuuucks :(( ladies - and guys, anyone really - if you've had that happen to you i am sending you the biggest genuine hugs and a 3tan yoongi to make it better. and if it hasn't happened to you, then good.
++feedback box: ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that are too shy to reblog with a review, comment on this, or send a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a comment dropbox :D feedback can be as short/sweet or as long as you’d like! ⇥ here! ++ more links: ⇥ masterlist  ⇥ three tangerines masterlist
2K notes · View notes
ponderingmoonlight · 3 months
Text
Gojo being your enemy (or lover?)
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Pairing: Gojo x reader
Word Count: 1,4k
Synopsis: Your family told you over and over, pounded it into your head since childhood: Satoru Gojo is your enemy, you are simply not allowed to feel anything but hatred towards the Gojo clan. But why do you find yourself lost in his arms each and every night, begging him to love you right?
Warnings: mentions of smut, it's getting heated (intimate touching) but not "real" lol, language
Finally, my first fic after quite some time! Let me thank every single one of you for your patience and sticking with me, I'd be more than honored if you show some love 🤍
„There you are, I searched everywhere for you.”
Just the sound of his melodic voice sends shivers down your spine, makes you break out in sweat. God, it should be forbidden to be this gorgeous, it shouldn’t be allowed for a man to be this charismatic. But oh, Gojo Satoru is. And you hate the way you feel about him.
“And I avoided you as good as I could.”
But at the same time, you can’t keep your mind off him, can’t keep your hands to yourself, can’t stop yourself from shamelessly staring at his delicious jawline, can’t control the urge to get under him. His body pressed against yours, skin to skin while he whispers the filthiest thoughts into your ear until you scream his name into the night.
“You know we’re alone, right?”
The raspy tone in his voice makes your eyes dart up in an instant. You know all too well you shouldn’t even look at him, that you need to keep your safe distance. Why is it so damn hard to resist him? The curse of your family, the enemy of your bloodline. Your family and the Gojo clan hated and fought each other since the beginning of time, making your whole childhood consist of nothing but hatred towards their golden child. But that golden child circles around you like a hunter around its prey, takes off your clothes with the sheer force of his bright blue orbs alone.
“We shouldn’t be.”
Your mouth is dry like the desert, the overwhelming feeling of losing your consciousness eats you up alive. It’s so wrong to stand in front of him, to let him linger over you with his much taller frame. Gojo Satoru is your worst enemy, the one and only thing your family warned you about. Why is it so damn easy to fall head over heels for him?
“You know you can leave anytime. I’m not forcing you to stay with me. But if you do you won’t regret it.”
You swallow down the lump building up inside your throat, doe eyes fixated on his dangerous ones. If they’d see you here, only inches away from the greatest member of the Gojo clan, you’d be screwed to infinity.
“We can’t do this anymore. We’ve already crossed that line way too often. You and me, we are…”
“Enemies, lovers? It’s completely up to you, (y/n). I couldn’t care less about my family’s opinion-“
“You should care, though. Our lives depend on it”, you reply urgently.
“Don’t you know who I am?”
His deep chuckle almost sends you over the edge, the way his eyes linger over you makes you hold your breath. That way too confident bastard who thinks the world belongs to him exclusively, who thinks he’s a god walking on earth. How much you hate his cocky smile, his immense powers, his arrogant appearance. Somehow your family is right for hating him, somehow you get why they want you to stay away from Gojo Satoru.
“You’re an arrogant bastard”, you bite back.
“Watch that mouth, (y/n). Why are you still here, huh? Feel free to leave if you wanna get away from me so bad.”
Your heavy breaths hang in the heated air between both of you. Just one stretch of your finger would be enough for your fingertips to brush over his broad chest. Just one touch would be enough to light the fire between both of you again. Why do your hands start to shake all of the sudden? Why is your heart almost beating out of your chest?
It’s because of him.
“Leave”, you press out while moving an inch forward.
“Just leave and never come back.”
“Or what?”, he breathes out, caging you between the cool wall and his burning body.
Get yourself together, think about your family. Gojo Satoru is your enemy despite being a jujutsu sorcerer as well, you aren’t allowed to even talk to him, you should leave right here and now, you-
“Fuck”, you hiss through gritted teeth before wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him towards you roughly.
You press your lips against his as hard as possible, teeth brushing over each other, making your lips swell in an instant. His strong arms are immediately wrapped around your frame, keeping you in place while he teases you with his tongue. Without mercy, over and over. You can’t catch your breath, hands searching for hold on his shoulders.
“I hate you”, you jeer against his parted lips before wrapping your legs around his hips.
“Oh yeah? Then let me show you how much I hate you as well”, he bites back, kissing that sweet spot on your neck that makes you see stars.
You can’t help but moan, press yourself even harder against the growing sensation in his pants, digging your nails into his uniform. God, how much you hate that guy. You shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t let him come near you, shouldn’t allow him to even touch your body.
Suddenly his hand wanders down your body, further and further until he cups your crotch roughly.
Fuck.
This feels so good.
No, it feels so bad.
“S-Satoru”, you whimper softly.
Your melodic voice sounds like music in his desperate ears, makes his skilled fingers pick up their pace in an instant. Oh, how precious you look with your eyes rolled backwards into your skull, how well his name suits your filthy little mouth.
This. This is right where you belong. Between his arms with his hand between your thighs.
“You like that, huh?”
You press your lips together and close your eyes, try to escape the sensation that builds up inside of you. No, you shouldn’t feel this good, you shouldn’t let him have this much power over your body. Screw Gojo Satoru and his skilled hands, screw that bastard for always making his way into your pants.
“Hell no I don’t.”
“Is that so?”, he teases.
Roughly, he snatches his hand away and cups your cheek, forcing your glossy eyes to look up at him. He looks absolutely delicious with his hair being a wild mess and his puffy lips ready to get kissed again.
No.
You shake your head, avoid his gaze. This is wrong. You shouldn’t even be here. If you leave now and go back to your apartment, you are able to pretend that none of this ever happened. Yes, Gojo Satoru will be nothing more than a comrade you have to endure, nothing but a plague in your life. Everything will turn out alright if you leave right here and now.
But your hands still hold onto his shoulders for dear life, you still whimper softly with every breath you take, your heart still races in desire. Fuck, why is it so hard to let go of him?
“I give zero fucks about our families hating and fighting each other. I want you and nothing else, you understand? We don’t have to do this in secret, you don’t have to pretend that you hate me while you don’t. I want you, (y/n). And I need to have you.”
You hate the way his words make shivers run down your spine, how your heartbeat picks up in an instant. The thought of having him alone is enough to almost send you over the edge. But oh, how could you forget his reputation with women, the things you’ve heard from Shoko? You are nothing but a trophy for a man like him, nothing but a price he hunts after.
You take a deep breath in and out, tame down your beating heart. He might be hot, but he’s still your enemy. Don’t forget where you came from, don’t let yourself fall because of a man.
“You only want me to brag about it. I’m not just one of your many toys, Satoru. And I’m too good to be yours. I’d rather keep you as my enemy.”
With a swift motion, you free yourself out of his grip, remove your touch from his burning skin. Fuck, should you turn around and fall back into his open arms, let him fuck you until you see stars like usual? As much as your body begs you to stay, as much as you miss his touch, you can’t.
After all, Gojo Satoru is your enemy, right?
…Right?
Tags:  @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @dazaisdick @hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut  @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso  @gojosrealwife  @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain  @risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz @darkstarlight82
449 notes · View notes
void-wolfie · 3 months
Text
heartbeat
summary: when family gets rough, Jenna knows just the way to calm you down. [request]
pairing: jenna ortega x gn!reader
tw: mentions of abuse (not detailed), some tears, but otherwise that's about it (if I need to add something let me know)
words: 1.26k
a/n: it's been too long since i've last posted lol. anyways, hopefully this is what you were hoping for anon (i would've tagged you but wasn't sure if you wanted that lol - you know who you are). anyways, enjoy guys :)
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You tapped on the window, trying not to wake the whole house while doing so. You bounced up and down on your heels while you waited, the cool air of the night sending chills up your spine.
No response. You tried again, knocking softly on the glass.
The window finally slid open. Jenna stood on the other side, her hair pulled up into a messy bun and wearing the oversized hoodie she stole from you.
"Can I stay, please?" You didn't have to say anything else, Jenna understood.
For most of your life, your house had been a toxic environment. When it all became too much or something bad happened, you'd escape. More often than not, you'd be at Jenna's house. Thankfully, her family welcomed you with open arms.
Jenna helped you climb through the window, smuggling you into her bedroom like some kind of behind-the-scenes drug deal.
The second you were through the window, you collapsed into Jenna's arms. You held her tight, nestling as close as you could to her and not letting go.
Jenna was a bit surprised; you normally weren't fond of physical contact. She didn't mind it though, she was more than happy to comfort you however she could, even if it was nearly three in the morning.
"It's ok," Jenna whispered, figuring whatever happened had to be pretty bad for you to act like this. "You're safe, I promise."
Six little words. That's all it took for you to break down. You started bawling.
Nowhere else in the world had you ever felt safer than in Jenna's arms. You were safe. No one could hurt you here. And yet, that wasn't entirely true either. Memories of your parents, the things they said and did always managed to stick with you. You would never be able to escape the storm that raged on inside your mind. Wave after wave, each memory worse than the last. Thoughts and images flash in your mind like lightning in a storm.
The more you thought about them, the worse it got. The realization that you'd never be able to escape hit like a ton of bricks...
Your breathing became shallow and ragged, hiccupping through the tears. Jenna could feel the way your heart thumped in your chest. You were going to have a panic attack if she didn't do something.
“Shhh, it’s okay, love. You’re okay.” Jenna wasn’t sure what else to say. Jenna had comforted you many times before, but this felt different, she’d never seen you so distraught.
Jenna slowly brought you down to the floor with her, setting you in her lap as she leaned against the side of her bed. She rubbed circles across your back as you held her tightly, your face nestled into her shoulder, your breathing becoming more erratic with each second that passed.
With one free hand, she tugged open the drawer of her nightstand. She blindly felt around before finally grabbing what she was looking for. A stethoscope. The one her mom had given her for her birthday last year.
She gently took the two earpieces and settled them over her ears. Then she took the chest piece and held it up to your chest. It wasn’t long before the sound of your erratic heartbeat flooded her ears. It made her wince. It was loud, louder than it should be. She couldn't even imagine what your parents did to hurt you so deeply, just seeing you so upset broke her heart...
You could feel the cool metal on your chest as Jenna's hand slipped underneath your shirt, her touch leaving a trail of goosebumps as she went.
You could never understand why Jenna and her stethoscope brought you so much comfort. You'd think someone having their hand up your shirt in the middle of a breakdown would feel like a violation, and yet, it didn't. Her hand on your back rubbing circles, and occasionally slipping up to the nape of your neck to play with the ends of your hair, was comforting. The cool metal drum of the stethoscope against your chest gave you something to focus on. And the sounds of her reassuring you, reminding you that you were safe in her arms, helped to drown out your torturous thoughts.
It was ten minutes before you finally calmed down. Ten agonizing minutes of Jenna worrying sick over you. Wondering if she was doing too much, or maybe too little. Wondering what happened that hurt you this much, did they say something? Do something? Ten long minutes of wondering if she was even helping at all, or just making everything worse?
It wasn't until your crying had finally faded into sniffling that she realized how much calmer you were. It was only a few more minutes after that when she noticed your heartbeat finally return to its familiar steady rhythm.
Your face was still buried into Jenna's shoulder, your arms tightly wrapped around her, when you felt her shift. The two of you hadn't moved from your position in ages, the small shift felt jarring.
Her hand left from under your shirt, and you felt her put the stethoscope off to the side somewhere.
"You okay, baby?"
Despite how Jenna was whispering, it sounded loud in the quiet room. You buried your face further into her shoulder, shaking your head no.
"Do you wanna move to the bed or stay down here?"
You shook your head no once again. You didn't want to move. You just wanted to stay like this forever.
She was silent, she didn't move or say anything. You started doubting your decision. What if she wanted to move? What if she was uncomfortable? The two of you hadn't moved in ages, what if she was hurting or-
"It's ok, we don't have to go anywhere," it was as if she could read your mind. Putting you at ease before your thoughts could eat you alive.
Before your mind could wander anymore, she shifted again, stealing your attention from any stray thoughts. With one arm she reached up to the bed behind her, grabbing one of the blankets and yanking it over the edge. The soft mass landed on the tops of your heads. It was only there for a second before Jenna pulled it down, wrapping it around your shoulders to keep the two of you warm.
Jenna grabbed the stethoscope, she took the two earpieces and gently set them over your ears. She grabbed the drum and put it under her shirt. It took a second, but the sound the Jenna's heartbeat quickly flooded your ears. It was quiet and calm, the familiar rhythm quickly putting you at ease.
It was sweet. The way Jenna just knew how to comfort you. Even on your worst days, she always knew what to say or do to get you feeling better. Anything and everything from midnight fast food runs to ice cream and movie nights, Jenna always made your days better.
“I love you; I’m always going to be here for you,” She kissed the top of your forehead before wrapping her arms around you, “Try and get some sleep, ok? I’m right here if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” it was barely even a whisper, you weren’t even sure if she had heard it. It didn’t really matter if she had or not, the way she held you in her arms told you everything you needed to know.
You would always be safe with her.
You drifted off to sleep with a smile as Jenna's soft heartbeat thumped away in your ears.
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ughgoaway · 25 days
Text
you're just a stranger I know everything about.
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Content warnings; sadness lol, confrontation, crying, a few Taylor references because I am unbearable, swearing, shouting, and just general angst. (no happy ending either oops)
a/n; day 1 of the matty 35 celebration! and what better way to start it than with some teacher au angst?? I know my birthdays always have an air of melancholy, so I feel like this is appropriate. I fear this is rushed and SO bad, but eh, too late now!! anyway, enjoy! maybe? if you can?
word count; 3.5k ish
(this fic is an extension from the "don't you think of me?" universe, which you can read here.)
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The text sits on your phone. Every time the screen starts to dim, you tap it to keep it illuminated, yet you don't reply. You can't. Every muscle in your body feels frozen except that one finger. 
Tap. Tap. Tap. 
You watched the phone dim, but the name of the contact seemed to stay just as bright, even when the light is as low as it can be, “Matty. DO NOT TEXT.” glows on your screen. The warning was added against your will after a few too many drunk almost-phone calls. 
Tap. Tap. Tap. 
It’s an hour later when the phone dies. You knew it was coming, watching the percentage of charge drop slowly. You got the 15% warning. Then the 5%. But still, you did the same thing until the screen finally went black.
 Tap. Tap. Tap.
You don't need the phone to be lit up to remember what the message said anyway. You’d read it a thousand times over already. You’d analysed it, broken it down, performed autopsies on every single word, each letter was scorched into your brain. 
“Hey y/n, long time no talk. 
I hope you got my letter, if you didn't read it, that's okay. You already know everything I said. You always knew me better than I did. 
Anyway, I know this is a long shot, but it's my birthday party next week, and I just can't imagine celebrating without you there. All I can think about is my last birthday, me and you in Hawaii. I don't expect it to be like that, but I would love it if you came. Even if you just had one drink, we don't have to talk. You can wave at me across the room and stay far, far away. Treat me like I've got the plague for all I care, but just come, please. 
Give an old man his birthday wish?
See you there, maybe. I hope so, anyway.
Matty x” 
You want to do the same to the text that you did to his letter, burn it to a crisp. But that doesn't exactly seem feasible, considering your phone was £500, and probably not flammable. plus, you had blisters on your fingers for weeks after the letter, and you dont know if it's worth it again.
But you can't deny that the blisters were oddly comforting. Reminding you what you did every time something brushed your digits, that he was gone, and you had the power. The ball was in your court, and you intended it to stay there.
And it was there for months. But Matty ruined that by sending that message, he got the power back whether he intended to or not. And it was made even worse by him telling Charli, and her endless phone calls begging you to come.
You’re so good at telling her its not going to happpen, and every message that comes in gets a firm “no.” or just gets point-blank ignored. She begs, saying that she needs a friend there and that she'll even let you choose a few songs for George’s DJ playlist. But you stay strong, shaking your head and sighing, insisting you've moved on, that chapter of your life is closed, and you'd like to keep it that way.
So you can't help but wonder how you ended up dressed up on a Saturday night standing outside of Matty’s house, bottle of wine gripped in your shaking hands and the distinct noise of your heels clicking against the pavement as you walk towards the house you've done everything you can to forget. 
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As soon as you walk in, you can tell the house is different from how you left it. Obviously, the strobe lights and birthday balloons were new, but even ignoring those, the whole space felt wrong. Even more unforgiving and cold, which was impressive considering every inch was covered with people, dancing and chatting. Still, a lifeless air hung around. 
Your eyes darted around, finding the places that you used to occupy. The painting you bought Matty no longer hangs on the wall, replaced by yet another award. You can't help but feel bitter when you see the poster celebrating the album full of songs about you. The spot where your mug used to sit on the counter was empty, but the dark stained ring of coffee remained, forcing you to fight a small smile. maybe he hadn't completely erased you, even if he tried.
People recognise you immediately, and they don't hide their shock well. They might think that they do, smoothly recovering from their initial surprise, but they don't. You see their wide eyes and disbelieving glances, each person acting like you're a ghost haunting the house you once lived in.
You play pretend along with them, smiling as best you can and answering all their questions.
"How's work?"
"How have you been?"
"you seen any good films lately?"
but, you both know you're dancing around the one question they really want to be answered.
why the fuck were you here?
Eventually, the people stop coming, and Charli finds you, plying you with drinks and half-slurred thanks as she begs you to stay for just 5 more minutes. You agree, only because you have yet to catch a glimpse of the birthday boy, and that made everything just bearable.
You quickly regret that decision when you see him not even a minute later, standing by George in the DJ booth smoking a cigarette and laughing in that contagious way he always did. High pitched giggles and his head thrown back.
But he doesn't see you, so it's still okay. You can hang on a few seconds more. Your chest might be tightening with every moment, but you're not suffocating yet.
However, when a tall blonde girl walks over and starts making out with him, it suddenly starts to feel like the room is on fire, and you’re choking on the invisible smoke. The burn of the flames starts to feel all too real when he pulls away from her, though, and his eyes find yours as if they're magnetised together. 
The realisation falls over his face immediately, dropping his hand from around her waist and trying desperately to weave through the crowd surrounding him. You don't stay to see if he breaks through the sea of people, already rushing out as fast as you can, forcing your cup into a stranger's hand and moving as fast as your legs can take you.
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“y/n, stop.” You hear Matty’s voice behind you as you storm out his front door, but you don't turn. It sounds muffled, like you're being pulled underwater, and someone is screaming at you to get up. But the waves keep on pulling you deeper, and his voice becomes more faint with every step you take.
Yet, as soon as the cold air fills your lungs and his skin finally touches yours, you're pulled out. You spin around as soon as his fingers graze your shoulder, acting like even his touch is painful as you wrench away.
It was finally here, the time you were dreading. The time when it was just you, him, and everything that remained unsaid.
His eyes held yours as the silence of the night surrounded you, and you couldn't help but study him like you always did. He looked different. Not better or worse, just different. The colourful lights in the house had been hiding his features. 
He had more lines on his face, deeper ones on his forehead, but the ones around his mouth had lightened, his smile lines fading. You could still tell even when it was slicked back with heavy gel that more grey streaks danced through his curls.
His eyes were the same, though. Always so telling, so revealing. If you wanted to know exactly what Matty Healy was thinking, look in his eyes. They spoke more than he did. Which sounds absurd if you’d ever had a conversation with him, but you'd bet your life on it.
You almost start to soften at the sight of him, old memories flooding back. Flashes of warm sun and hot kisses, filthy sex followed by soft breakfasts in bed. But then he speaks. Why do men always do that? Just as you're thinking about saying something and trying defusing the situation, they open their stupid mouth.
“Where are you going?” he asks softly, his chest heaving as he desperately sucks in oxygen, his lungs fighting to catch up.
“Home, Matty. I shouldn't have come. I don't even know why you invited me.” You try to spin and walk away, to finally move on. But of course, Matty’s voice drags you back under once again, and the same water fills your lungs.
“stay, please. i dont know why i invited you either, but I did. I didn't expect you to come. I just-” Matty stutters as he speaks as if his brain can't catch up with his mouth, things pour out that he doesn't mean. And he knows it. It's crystal clear as soon as his wide eyes shoot open, processing what he had really just said. 
He didn't expect you to come? He put you through all this and didn't think you'd show up? What was the point then? Was it just to hurt you? Did he just want to see if he could? to see if his name popping up would have the same effect it always did, make you come running to him?
Your body moves without thinking, turning to face Matty with fires burning in your eyes, "You didn't think I would come? Then why the fuck did you even invite me, Matty?! to flaunt your new girlfriend? to try and "win" the breakup? Well congratulations, you've fucking won. I'm sure that model hanging off your arm is just perfect for you.” sarcasm drips from your every word, burning Matty like acid rain.
“No! It's not like that. I don't know. I think- I think I was just scared we’d never be in the same place again. That I would love you for the rest of my life, but I’d never see you again.” his voice softens as he speaks, and you almost want to give in, to crumble at his gentle tone and warm eyes. But he can't still love you, it seems impossible when you go back and see the destruction he left behind.
“That's what a breakup is, Matty. And did you ever think about me? About what I want? I can't help but think that maybe that would've been better. If being in the same room as you means feeling like this, I don't ever want to see you again.” You spit back angrily.
Matty's nostrils flare before he speaks, and you can see the anger building inside him. It takes a lot to get Matty to shout, but you can tell with every second you're making him inch closer. And you don't know why that makes you feel so good, but if you're honest, you don't want to know.
You want to keep going, keep pushing. You want him to act like he did that night. You needed to see it again. You needed to know he couldn't ever forget the night you're forced to remember. 
“y/n, I don't- I just don't know what to say to you. What do you want from me? Do you want me to say that saying goodbye to you was the hardest thing I've ever had to do? That it ripped my heart out of my chest? That it fucking destroyed me? It did. Of course it did, you always made me feel everything. Losing you was no different.” You heard the way Matty’s voice cracked the more he spoke, but you ignored it. If he wanted to pull the dagger out of your heart, it was his job to deal with the bleeding.
“It didn't feel that hard when you stopped coming home at night. Or when you were fucking screaming at me. Or even that night when you walked out the door, you made it look pretty fucking easy that night. Because that's how it was Matty, you left. So don't come to me bitching and whining that it destroyed you. It's your fault. All of this is your fault.” you feel your voice wavering, but you suck in another breath, refusing to let him see you weaken, to see that wall you built start to break down. 
“I deserved a better goodbye, Matty. If the goodbye you gave me hurt, the one I deserved would have fucking killed you.” You poke Matty in the chest harshly, pushing him back on his unsteady feet. 
Streetlights flicker above you, the severe light dancing across Matty’s features. As long as you can remember, this light was busted, flicking on and off at will. It used to annoy you, distract you at night when the light poured through the curtains of Matty's bedroom.
Tonight, however, you loved it. No one could hide what they were really feeling under the harsh yellow glow. It seemed to pull every emotion to the surface of your face, illuminating even the darkest parts you wanted to hide.
So it was easy to spot when anger reared its ugly head in Matty. This time, he doesn't push it back. He physically can't.
He needs you to know that it did kill him to say goodbye, and that you can see that. he needs to understand how you can’t you see that he's the shell of the man he once was as he stands here?
“I apologised to you. I know you got my letter. Thanks for the response, by the way, a great way for us to get closure for whatever the fuck this was.” venom drips from every word that falls from his lips, and you have to fight to hide the smirk brewing on your face. 
Finally. Finally, he was angry. He was pissed off. This is what you needed. You need the big fight, the final breakdown. Just one more time, you tell yourself, just one more screaming match, and you can move on.
A scoff involuntarily is ripped from your chest, as if you can't believe the utter bullshit coming from the man across from you. “I'm sorry, you think you deserve a response? What would I say in it, “Oh Matty, I'm so sorry! You're so right. Please let me come over so we can fuck all night!!” I know I'm not your usual airhead type, but you have to think more of me than that”
Your voice is high and piercing as you speak, and you know it. It always was when you started to get riled up. However, in this moment, you didn't care. You just needed something to happen, for him to get just as annoyed as you've been for fucking months.
“You don't think I deserved anything, though? Not even an acknowledgement?” his incredulous eyes met yours, begging you to take everything back and say you're sorry too, that it wasn't just his fault, even if he knew that wasn't true.
“Why should I? You never acknowledged my feelings. I don't think you asked me how I felt in the last month of our relationship.” Wet tears start brewing at your lashline. You want to fight them falling. But you can't, your resolve weakening with every second he stands in front of you.
“you know, that night we broke up, I realised something. you hadn't said you loved me in weeks. I said it every morning. But you'd hum back, or nod, or hug me. But you never actually said it.” Matty tries to cut in, and you already know what he wants to say. But you don't let him, powering through his half started words and desperate eyes.
After a few shaky breaths, your words start pouring again, “You treated saying “I love you” just like how you treated saying sorry. Like it would kill you to even think it. You've still never properly apologised for how you treated me, never said it to my face. But when we were together, I found myself saying sorry thousands of times over for feeling anything. I felt guilty for being pissed off at you, like I was doing something wrong. But I had every right to be! You had become a man I didn't even recognise, and for some reason, I still loved you, even when I shouldn't have. But at the time, I didn't see that. All I saw was you hurting. And because all I do is care, I wanted to stay. To stay for you, for us. Our family.”
Seconds pass, but they feel like minutes. The harsh wind blowing between you whistling through the street. Your eyes can't be dragged away from Matty’s, tears falling freely between the two of you.
And suddenly, you don't want him to be angry any more, you don't want this all to happen. You wish you could go back, never come here. But time doesn't work like that, so you’re stuck with tears pouring down your face as you stare at the man you once thought was the love of your life.
“Do you still have feelings for me?” Matty whispers, and you could see the desperation on his face, wet eyes tracing your every feature.
In that moment, he didn't know what he wanted your answer to be.
If you said no, it would kill him. Every ember of hope smouldering inside him would be burnt out, never to be relit.
But if you said yes, he doesn't know if he can let go. If you say you still feel anything for him, he knows he’ll be looking for you in every universe until he finds the one where you stay.
“I won't ever not love you, Matty. No matter how many times I tell myself I've moved on or that my life is better without you in it. I will always love you, and that's fucking agonising.” you sniffle as you speak, and you almost want to laugh at the absurdity of it all. How did you go from screaming at each other to professing your everlasting love?
Matty wants nothing more in that moment than to start begging you to come back, telling you how you can make it work, to talk about what he would do to get you back. But he knows he shouldn't, so he doesn't.
“Annie still thinks about you all the time you know,” Matty says, and your chest hurts from the whiplash of this conversation, jumping between memories of your old life so fast its almost unbearable. But you knew Matty. He needed to jump around to stay sane, so you jumped with him.
“I know, I remember you saying in the letter that she stopped asking when I was coming back. Is that true?” your voice drops again, as if you were sharing secrets at a sleepover.
“I thought it would be easier when she stopped asking, maybe then I'd not spend every waking hour thinking of you. But when the day came, it wasn't easier. It was like watching you leave right in front of me all over again. It brought me back to walking into the house for the first time after you left, looking at the empty space and trying to figure out how to fill it. Annie was filling it by asking about you, but suddenly she wasn't, and that glaring hole in my life was back." Matty's voice breaks as he speaks, but he clears his throat and tries to ignore it.
"I realised then that I'll never not think about you. Even if no one talks about you. Even if I never see you again, I'll still think of you.” Matty sucks in a shaky breath as soon as the words stop pouring out of him. His lungs seemed like they were sticking together with every word he said, and it felt like death. But he couldn't stop the rush of words, so he let the death surround him.
“Tell her I said hi” you reply meekly, not sure what to say in response to Matty’s outpour.
“I won't” matty says, forcing a half smile and chuckle that you half-heartedly return. 
Once again, the blanket of silence surrounds the two of you, enveloping you in a way that feels all too familiar. So you break it, not letting yourself fall back into old patterns.
"i just dont understand how it all happened so quickly. how did you go from a stranger to the love of my life, only then to become someone I wish was a stranger all over again?" You whisper, your shaking hands coming to cup Matty's wet cheeks as you step closer. His hands wrap around your waist instantly, pulling you in and holding you so tight it almost hurts. 
Silence hangs between the two of you. But its no longer painful or awkward, stilted or angry. It was a silence of acceptance, an acknowledgement that this had to be the final goodbye. There was no erasing the past, the demons that followed the two of you couldn't be ignored. So you were done, this was it.
Eventually, you pull away, and your face hovers in front of Matty’s for a few beats too long. You want to give him a final kiss, a proper goodbye. and you swear you can almost feel his lips against yours, taste the salty tears that would fall from your eyes. You don't, though. Your hands drop from his wet cheeks, and you walk away.
Every fibre inside you wants to turn around and go back to him. It feels impossible to face the future with the person you planned to spend it with standing 10 steps behind. But you do, moving forward and trying not to mourn the life you know you can never get back.
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lightlycareless · 3 months
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Omg the toji threesome fic is just...wtf there's no other worlds to describe it it's wtf in a good way omg what if she gets pregnant? What if it's not naoya's?! WHAT WILL TOJI FJCKING SAY?! GET RID OF IT?! GIVE BIRTH AND GIVE IT TO ME?! WHAT WILL NAOYA DO?! OMGGGGG PLEASE MAKE A FIC ABOUT THE AFTERMATH AHHHH!!!!! if you want baby no pressure <3
Hello! :>
I don't know if you saw my sneak peak, but I ended up writing a sequel to this heheh I'm so glad you liked it!!
Ngl, I wasn't planning on writing more of it, but then I saw this ask and... you know, I just had to do it to 'em.
Anyways I won't say anything more; except for the warnings: mentions of infidelity. mentions of smut (the word cunt is used) angst I believe. it's sad at the end, or I try to make it sad lol. Mentions of pregnancy. Also, I am no expert relating to pregnancy matters so take it with a grain of salt and lots of plot convenience 😅.
Happy reading!!
sequel to this.
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Toji’s not to disclose if you or Naoya came back for a repeat of that night’s succession, though he will admit your pregnancy was not surprising.
It’s not like he could run away from it either, for as soon as news graced the elders’ ears, it’s all the estate spoke of.
From enthusiasm to welcome the next generation of Zen’in sorcerers, to the ever-growing hope of recovering their prized cursed technique, which has been absent for hundreds of years…
Expectations for this child were at an all-time high.
But to you and Naoya, all you could care about was the blessing this baby represented.
A family.
The pinnacle of all their yearnings, the fruits of their never-ending efforts finally appearing as the positive pregnancy test you took one morning after feeling particularly nauseous…
Or Toji’s, perhaps.
Toji initially didn’t think much of the “shocking” announcement. Not even after his behavior that night—they were just heat of the moment things, nothing that he meant nor really cared about, simply said to get a rise out of Naoya; and oh, was his reaction satisfying.
In other words, he really, genuinely, couldn’t care less about what the wimpy heir and his ditzy wife were to face from that point forward.
But when their behavior towards him, the engaging conversations, invitations to drink tea, amongst other activities, drastically ceased, to the point of them turning on their heel and going the opposite way when bumping into him…
It didn’t take long for the pieces to fall into place, and when the puzzle was complete, Toji could only laugh.
It’s like an open secret, albeit solely for those involved.
The baby inside you wasn’t Naoya’s.
It was Toji’s.
And this filled him with morbid fascination no other high had been able to provide.
To know that the baby everyone was praising as the future of the Zen’in, a promising sorcerer, as expected of the heir, was the ultimate irony, the exact anti-thesis of all they once declared of Toji.
He was very tempted to let everyone know.
Proudly announce the truth to the world, screaming to the top of his lungs that that baby isn’t Naoya’s, it’s mine.
The scandal this revelation would bring was nothing short of earth-shattering, and more likely than not, the elders wouldn’t even know where to start from. Although your infidelity could be a good reference.
Followed by the fact that no matter how much they try to get rid of him, he’ll always find a way to haunt them—like a ghost shackled to the estate walls, Toji would always remain in the back of their minds, unsettling them whenever they did as much as breathe.
Although for this to work, he’d have to wait until the child was born, officiated as son of Naoya, before he could do any true damage.
To see the kind of face the Zen’in would make upon finding out the truth… is one that makes his prolonged stay all but worthwhile.
As well as knowing your reaction towards the whole ordeal—if you’ve even been able to sleep knowing well that your life was on the line by carrying such a frightening secret in your womb.
Considering the way you frequently sought him out during those lonely nights where your husband would be away for long periods of time, this probably didn’t perturb you as much. After all, what did you expect after receiving his seed as constantly as you did? That nothing would happen? No consequences to be suffered?
You were many things, but he never thought you as delusional.
Or perhaps, you were hoping for this. To have his child. He’d come to believe so after the tight way your cunt squeezed him.
Well, that would only make him the delusional one.
Either way, he suspects that while your secret might’ve prickled the back of your mind from time to time, it didn’t bother you as much as he hoped—not with the way your staff coddled your every move, how the clan would gift you expensive items to celebrate the future head of the clan, per tradition, or how happy you appeared to be with your growing bump, gently caressing it and beaming while confessing oh how much you longed to finally hold your baby.
It irked him.
To see that even through this deceit, you were still blissful.
It was undeserving. Wrong.
At least to the man who has been sentenced to nothing but pain and disgrace since the moment he was born, that’s how it was.
Because it was impossible for him to grasp the innocence of others—To accept that some were just simply… with better luck. Free to live as they desired, and without having to pay for the prejudice of others.
Toji, now more than ever, felt that he was being used. Plucked from his misery, toyed with, and discarded once dried out of his benefits.
Thus, his motivation to ruin your and Naoya’s happiness became as palpable as ever—hastily making his way towards you once catching you by one of the many gardens, intending to remind you of the power he had, how easily it would be for him to plant the seed of doubt amongst the staff, let it flourish up to the elders, and ruin your and Naoya’s life forever.
Unless your anguished face was to stop him.
It was abrupt, happening in less than a second, yet enough for him to understand it wasn’t because you were upset by some redundant folly, but rather, of pain.
With one of your hands rushing up to your stomach while the other to your back, it was as if the weight of your baby had suddenly become too much to handle; you’d then anxiously looked for a chance to sit down, frowning when realizing the only option was the strenuous engawa in front of you…
Before freezing, face quickly void of any color, when seeing Toji abruptly standing by your side, with mysterious intentions you were not interested in finding out.
“Toji, you— You breathe as you do your best to walk away from him, just for him to keep up with you. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Gee, that’s the thanks I get for getting you pregnant?” he sneers. “Never thought you to be as prejudiced as the rest—”
“What—what is wrong with you?!” you condemned, snatching your arm from his grasp. “How dare you?! Don’t you ever say something like ever aga—ah!”
“Y/N.” Toji’s eyes widen when he sees you lean forward, wrapping your arms around your stomach as you hiss and cuss, while tightly closing your eyes in what he recognizes strenuous pain. “What is happening?! Are you—”
No.
Could it be? And so soon?!
”Are you having the baby??”
“What? N—No—!” you whimper, squeezing tears out of the corners of your eyes. “It’s just—it’s just this pain that comes and goes sometimes—I—I need to sit down—”
Toji doesn’t hesitate to help you onto the engawa by firmly, yet gently, holding your arms and lowering you down to the wooden floor. You didn’t plan on accepting his help at first, but when a sharp pain reminds you that you couldn’t really pick and choose in this situation, you end up agreeing.
Once seated, Toji concludes this was much better off in the hands of a staff member, or even a doctor if he could somehow manage to do that, so he quickly stands up and turns towards the hallways—but the moment you see him take as little as a step away from you, your hands fly to grab his sleeve, stopping him on his tracks before looking up to him with the most pitiable look on your face.
“Stay.” You breathe, swallowing. “Please.”
And whether because of your pleading, teary eyes, or because it had been so long since he’d basked in your warm company, Toji obliges, soon taking the spot besides you as your hand now securely gripped his, with such an unprecedented force that has him both amused and concerned by your pain, while offering whatever little comfort he could with his touch.
It’s in these quiet yet tense moments that he finally gets to see the certainty of your situation.
While you expected to happily enjoy your future life as a mother, relish on the compliments of those around you, the praises of your in-laws, and the company and support of your husband…
Reality had been nothing short of deviant from your dreams—starting from the high risk your pregnancy was labeled as…
To the haunting consequences of your past actions.
“Are you sure this is normal?” Toji asks, seeing that your pain was not subsiding. “I think you need help—”
“No shit, Toji!” you gasp, he raises an eyebrow. “I mean—I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologize, princess. It’s nothing I’m not used to already.”
“… is that—is that supposed to make me feel better?”
“No. Not really.” He snickers, a smile that’s quickly wiped off his mouth when hearing you hiss. “But I’ve seen it work with others, so why not give it a shot?”
“I’m not—I’m not going to do that.” You huffed. “I—I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“But you’d ignore me?”
“If you’re here to scold me, this is not the right time.” You hiss again, feeling a sharp pain attack your lower back, making you press your lips and whine.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to do something? Bring you something to drink—or… something?”
“Yes, but—but it’s not like you can help me anyways.”  You confess, he frowns.
“What? Why? How hard is it to get something for you to take?” he scoffs.
“They don’t want me to—they say—they say it might hurt the baby.”
Toji blinks.
“And so, what? They’re just going to leave you to suffer?”
You don’t respond.
He sighs. Toji should’ve known better.
“Where does it hurt?”
“My—my back and stomach” you breathe, another sharp bolt of pain on those places precisely, making you hold his hand even tighter, once again, he’s surprised someone like you could even dent his skin. “And no matter what I do—nothing helps! Not even that stupid warm bath, or the massages Junko-san told me to do—”
The desperation for failed solutions after failed solutions is clear in your voice, a consistency that effectively shows your growing frustration at being reminded again and again that not even when carrying the future of the Zen’in, are you respected as a person.
It’s always the needs of others first, the beliefs of the rest—only this time around it was your baby, although through the twisted words of your in-laws.
“I’m so, so tired of feeling exhausted, I just want to—”
“Let me try.” Toji interrupts, offering a solution that initially catches you by surprise, a part of your mind urging you to decline and get away as far as possible, the dangers his closeness could give are far bigger than you’re willing to put up with—
Yet, another part of you is telling you to allow him, if only for a moment, to help you.
To enjoy his company, something you’ve been unjustifiably deprived of.
Something you should’ve had now more than ever due to your pregnancy, but for many painful reasons, you didn’t.
But just because you wanted it, does it mean you should?
It wouldn’t be the first time you succumbed to these desires.
Thus, the decision is made when freeing his hand and gesturing to him to proceed with a nod. Toji then places his hands over your shoulders, firmly pressing his fingertips against them before beginning to ease the tensions and stresses away from your body through circular motions.
Had you known of Toji’s talent, you would’ve asked for massages more than anything else from him—for the way he carefully worked over your knots, starting from your neck and shoulders, down to your spine and to your lower back… it was simply amazing.
And for a moment, it’s like you’ve forgotten the strained relationship you had with him in favor of wondering where he even learned to do something like that.
“Oh my god—” you sigh, shoulders relaxing as Toji continues to massage you. “This is so much better…”
“Well, know you can always count on me to make you feel better, right?” He teases, your satisfaction dwindles for a moment with a frown. “It’s just a joke.”
“It’s not the time for jokes.” You respond. “but at least my back doesn’t hurt anymore….”
“That’s the reason why you’re so tense— it’s because you can’t take a joke.” Toji adds, as if he were finding out how much he could push it before you snapped. So much for his concern… or perhaps it was his way to lighten up your mood?
“Yeah, how horrible of me—it’s not like I’m carrying a baby.” You chided, and once again, his arrogance is smacked out of him.
After a moment of silence and brief repentance, Toji speaks.
“How did Naoya take it?”
“…I don’t want to talk about that.”
It went bad. If not horrible.
Naoya was excited at first, over the moon to know that he was finally to be a father after all their attempts.
But when doubts began to plague his mind, eventually leading to the DNA test… his absence was the clear indication of his feelings.
However,  if his reaction hurt you and your marriage so badly, then why did you keep the—
“I always wanted a family.” You say, succumbing to one of the many questions you rightfully assumed Toji to have. “From the moment I married, no, even before that, I knew that’s what I wanted in life. To have a little girl, or boy, that I could endlessly dote and spoil on… And once I got with Naoya, realizing he too shared my dream, I literally felt it was only a matter of weeks before we’d have our own family.
But, when we began to try, and try, and try… what I once felt just by my fingertips was slowly transforming into an impossible dream.
People say that these things happen unexpectedly, just when you need them the most.
… and I wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt. Remain hopeful and believe that the gods had other plans for me in the meantime. But… the two of us knew it. There was something wrong, and we didn’t know what—
Or more like we didn’t want to know.
Naoya couldn’t even consider himself as the possible cause. And I… I also didn’t want to believe I was the obstacle between me and my dreams.
And then, you came along.
I guess it’s the weight of our actions that eventually made Naoya… hesitant for the baby.
We always knew that it was yours, it’s just that maybe… maybe we hoped it wasn’t. We so desperately wanted to believe the baby was his, ours, and not fruit of something we perhaps should’ve never done.”
Feeling both confused and slightly angered, Toji scowls.
“I can understand one thing—I was used. Fine, whatever. Nothing new. But the rest? If it was such a big issue your marriage, then why did you keep the baby? Surely Naoya considered getting an aborti—”
“Because I wanted to keep the baby.” You confess. “I was growing so desperate and lonely—to be married and yet be as isolated as I’ve never felt before, what was I supposed to do?! In a house full of people… do you even know how that feels?!”
“Like you wouldn’t imagine.”
Your eyes widen, and soon, a crushing wave of regret inundates your mind.
“I’m sorry.” You murmur, Toji sighs. “I didn’t mean to.”
“You’re just stressed.” He concludes. “Pregnancy stuff, I guess.”
“…I want my husband, here, with me.” You quietly admit. “I don’t want him to work anymore, spend days and weeks far away. But instead, he’s out there, angry with me and the baby…”
“He’ll come around.” Toji doesn’t know why he said that, only that he had to. You frown.
“How do you even know that? How do you know he won’t divorce me—or worse, cheat on me?”
“Do you hear yourself?” he scoffs, partially holding back his laughter. “Do you actually believe he’d be capable of cheating on you?”
A woman as special as you?
“Everyone else did at one point.” You remind him, he rolls his eyes. “Well, what else am I supposed to think after his absence?! He doesn’t even love me anymore for all I care!”
“That’s stupid.”
“Maybe for you it is.” You cry, tears begin to pool in your eyes. “It’s just a matter of time before he files for divorce and leaves me for someone else! Someone that can give him children of his own! Oh, I should’ve never allowed—"
“Naoya isn’t going to divorce you because I’ve seen how he treats you.” Toji interrupts, hurt by your blatant disregard of him, and yet, something about seeing you so distressed like this, heartbroken, makes him want to console you even more. “He could’ve divorced you the moment he saw the results, but he didn’t. Have you thought about that?”
“Perhaps he’s waiting for the right moment to humiliate me before his family—”
“Naoya loves you.” Toji says, and the words hurt him more than he anticipated. But… why? “I’ve known the kid since he was born—I’ve seen how he treats the people he doesn’t care about. And you’re nothing like that, not even close. So no, he won’t humiliate you.”
“And what makes you think that?”
Toji goes silent.
He’s acting as if he doesn’t know why he’s out here insisting so much on comforting you. And honestly? It made sense, for just a few hours ago he couldn’t care less any for a woman that played with two men and now had to pay the consequences—
But the truth wasn’t as cryptic as he liked to believe. All that he needed to do was dive a little deeper into his own thoughts and he’d soon find out why, as clear as day, he was fighting so hard to make you feel better.
And it all started the moment he accepted one crucial detail:
You were the mother of his child, his firstborn, and so… it unknowingly evoked a sense of protection towards you, deep underneath the layers of his disbelief and mockery…
Or more like further developed.
Since the first night the two spent together without Naoya, or perhaps even before, there was something brewing inside him, slowly, but surely. The first foundations of the feelings that would only flourish the night he had you alone, completely for himself.
In those moments of solitude, Toji liked to imagine that you were his wife; accompanying him underneath the covers, seeking his embrace, his touch, while telling him of your tedious day and how you so desperately looked forward to seeing him again—
And not Naoya.
The possibility of coming home to a warm bed, with a wife that treated him like an actual person, not a stain in the long history of the clan, contrary to the cold, empty room he has been condemned to since birth… is something he didn’t know he wanted, until you stumbled onto his path.
To be able to seek your figure whenever walking across the estate, hoping to catch you just around the corner, gossiping with your ladies about whatever it is that you liked to talk about with them, before you notice him by the corner of your eyes, lifting your gaze and seeing the lovely way your eyes would brighten at his presence—
A wide smile adorning your face, cheeks quickly turning red as you shyly dismiss your staff in favor of receiving him. Running to him to tightly embrace him, subsequently standing on your tip toes to land a kiss on his lips before murmuring the sweetest welcome home and tending to him.
And eventually… getting to hear your moving cries upon learning you’re expecting a baby. After many weeks of trying, both their efforts are finally met with the most beautiful reward life could give, letting your imagination run wild with all the things you wanted to do as a future mother—and yet, you’d still find a way to reassure him that he’d be a good dad.
That the disgrace of the Zen’in, the wretched man no one deemed respectable, less capable of harboring love, was still capable of being a good father. A caring husband.
But this was nothing but a silly desire of his, a response to the horrible things he’s endured.
…Perhaps if things had been different, had he been born as literally anyone else but himself… or maybe even met you under different circumstances, his life would’ve been completely different.
One with you, hopefully.
“Toji!” you suddenly gasp, startling him and concernedly looking at you.
“What is it now?” he frowns.
“The baby.” You say, which does nothing to ease his worries. “It’s—”
“It’s what? What’s happening??”
“The baby is kicking.” You reveal, swiftly taking his hand and placing it over your round stomach and onto the area you feel their kicks to be. “I can’t—I can’t believe it, look!”
“What do you mean they’re—”
Toji’s eyes widen.
A kick.
And another. And another one.
You weren’t lying, the baby was kicking.
And unbeknownst to him, this was their first time doing it too.
“Can you feel that?” you say, and all past worries were now replaced with excitement and overwhelming happiness for this special moment. “The baby is finally kicking!”
“I… can.” He demurs, trying his best to comprehend what was happening just beneath his palm, before noting the peculiarity of your sentence. “What do you mean finally?”
“It’s the first time he does it.” You reveal. “It’s supposed to happen around this time, but I didn’t know when, of course. I guess… now’s the day.”
“That means…”
Naoya didn’t get the privilege of feeling the baby’s first kicks.
No.
Not any baby.
His baby.
And now that this truth settled in his mind, it quickly became the sweetest moment he had ever experienced in his life. Something he wishes to preserve for all eternity…
Just after dealing with the enormous sense of guilt and shame settling in his heart.
For how could he ever consider bestowing the same fate as his to this innocent child, just to get a rise of the family that wronged him? Towards someone whom he hasn’t even met… simply because he couldn’t deal with his own emotions?
Just when did he turn so despicable? Embracing the kind of malice as his clan?
He should be ashamed to even be beside you.
“It’s a boy.” You say, abruptly cutting through his thoughts.
“Huh?”
“The baby—it’s a boy.” You repeat. “We’re having a boy.”
Toji doesn’t know why, nor thought it possible, but the news somehow makes him feel even happier.
“A boy.” He repeats. “A son.”
“We haven’t decided a name yet” you confess. “I was thinking something in honor of Naoya, continue the tradition like him and his father.”
“Why not something for you?” Toji suggests instead; his concern might be disguised in favor of your emotions (and partially, he was) but it was mainly the distaste of having Naoya’s, or technically Noabito’s, name anywhere near him.
But he wasn’t going to tell you that, obviously.
“After the way he’s acting, you deserve that much.”
You press your lips together before lightly chuckling, finding some truth behind his words.
“I guess so… but then, which name?” you ponder, frowning as you go deep into thought, yet nothing seems to arise for the occasion, certainly not when you’ve done nothing but consider names with the same kanji as your husband whenever touching the subject.
Thinking you needed more time to consider, or perhaps needing to admit there was nothing else you wanted but honor your husband, you accept defeat with a sigh.
“I don’t know, Toji. Maybe I should just name him after Nao—”
“Megumi.”
“What?”
“Megumi. Blessing.” Toji explains. “I thought it’d be fitting with what you told me.”
“That’s… very straight forward.” You say after a few seconds of quiet consideration, “Unusual, since it’s mostly used as a girl’s name, and I don’t know if the elders would approve—”
“Look, if it’s that much of a problem you don’t have to use—” Never one to happily accept rejection, Toji quickly feels both embarrassed and frustrated by you, which he does not hesitate to let you know.
Only to be surprised yet again.
“But also, very sweet.” You smile, briefly looking up to him before glancing back to your stomach and onto your hand resting on top of his.
He blinks, perplexed by your sudden admittance—and such, all he can do is stare at you while you keep pouring your heart out.
“Even with the things I had to endure to have him here… he’s still my blessing, and I wouldn’t want him any other way.”
At your declaration, Toji is pushed down onto another turmoil of emotions.
It shouldn’t be that hard to conclude this is something he should isolate himself from.
Remember that he isn’t part of this marriage, no matter if he had permission of the other two involved, or how much he tries to convince himself—Understand that his blood means nothing, both inside and outside the clan, and that’s how it’ll always be.
But when your hand gently squeezes his for a moment, thumbs caressing his knuckles as you let him know your pains are slowly disappearing and how grateful you are for his help—all his worries are quickly discarded, allowing him to once again imagine live out this faux reality a bit longer.  
A happiness that comes from the notion of being your husband, simply enjoying a quiet afternoon, the refreshing spring breeze, while sitting by the engawa, in front of your favorite garden, trying to make up for all the time he spent away from you.
Time Toji knew he should’ve spent either way by trying to get close to you, see your growth firsthand, check on you from time to time, assist whenever possible— instead of plotting a stupid plan to ensure your and the baby’s downfall.
He reproached himself for having fallen for such an arrogant trap, and convinced himself this was the way to go.
Yet, he didn’t allow that thought to interfere much with the present. He shouldn’t either way—not with the lovely bumps of his son’s kicking against his hand, almost as if he recognized it was his father finally acknowledging him…
And certainly not with your warmth reminding him of what could’ve been.
A moment he’ll preserve in his memories for the rest of his days, because while relishing in your company, he had already made up his mind.
One that fitted with the idea that all good things must come to an end.
Especially those that are simply not meant to be, less for someone as disgraceful as him.
It hurt him to come to this conclusion. To acknowledge what his mind, and existenceconstantly reminded him about.
But he knew he had to do it.
From that point forward, he’ll do everything in his power to keep away from you.
Toji would no longer watch you from afar, nor ask for your whereabouts, whether directly or indirectly.
He’ll simply limit himself to hearing of your wellbeing, or how your relationship began to flourish yet again, through rumors of the staff, if he was ever around the estate to acknowledge them.
He was right when he said Naoya would come along, you know? He might be wrong in some things, or most, but when it comes to judging other’s character, Toji never misses.
It was nothing but obvious that Naoya loved you very much, after all, if he no longer wanted to know anything from you, you wouldn’t have lasted as long as you did.
Naoya kept you at the estate, fed, warm, tended for, because he loved you—to the point of going against his own clan to provide you with the much-needed assistance you required for your oscillating pains.
With such gestures, it shouldn’t come to him as a surprise that you also loved Naoya very much.
And yet, it hurt him to realize such a thing.
But who was he trying to fool?
At the end, he had always knew he had no place in that marriage. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that the reason you kept returning to him was because you wanted something more from him—it was never the truth to begin with:
Your mind was always in Naoya’s wellbeing, and in his love.
He was ultimately a step towards your goals. Whether for pleasure, or for something deeper, it didn’t matter—they all went to the same target.
So, when he hears from the gossiping staff that you’ve named your child Megumi, he doesn’t get his hope ups anymore.
Instead, Toji simply takes it as what it is: a way to thank him for the blessing he’s given you, honor him one last time, before cutting ties with him forever.
Because the moment anyone catches wind of his relationship to your son… everything will collapse, and that is something he is no longer willing to allow.
Thus, he stays away. Keeps his distance from you and Naoya as both continue to tend for their growing family, giving Megumi things he had only dreamed of getting:
A warm, cozy bed to sleep in, where he’d be able to dream about all kinds of things he’d like to do when the following day arrives.
A roof over his head, guarding him from the cold pours of the rain, or the burning rays of the sun, as he watches the world go by.
Food to fill his stomach, every day, whenever and whatever he wanted, ensuring his healthy growth or an occasional craving.
A set future that would reassure him of any misgivings, permitting him to fail and not worry if he’ll have anyone to back him up, or start from zero.
But most importantly—
Love.
To remind him that no matter what happens, whatever he does or doesn’t do, he’ll always have a family to support him just the way he is.
Yeah.
It’s clear to him now.
It had always been better this way.
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In other words, Toji disappears from your and Naoya's life to ensure your safety. Woaaah. I hope I was able to convey that kind of sad redemption (?)
Also, I was debating whether to actually name the baby Megumi or not, since it's a whole other character—but then I thought, why not? and thus this happened.
I guess we get to the conclusion that if there's one person that's most deprived (and in need) of love, it would be Toji. We all saw how he got after mamaguro died... so I think him doing an 180 to protect the mother of his child and son is 100% accurate and sad omg. jesus, how different from the Toji I portrayed in the previous oneshot.
Anyways, I hope it was to your liking :3 Thank you for sending in this ask, I really enjoyed writing it!
Take care, and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️
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coltrainbat · 1 year
Note
Part 2 of bubba? Would love to see more of protective!chris 🥺
Bubba Part 2: Bump
A/N: Everyone grasp your loins i'm back... lol and a funny update after being bullied by my roommates they found this account and followed it to "keep tabs" so everyone say heyyy to my inner circle who I recommend sleep with one eye open 🥰
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"Stay beside me yeah?" Chris held you tightly, staring at you intently as he helped you out of the car.
"I can barely walk, you don't have to worry about me pulling a runner." Chris gave a small smile at your light hearted joke.
At this stage, you were 6 months pregnant and HUGE. The last thing Chris wanted to do is shove you in front of a thousand cameras and screaming crowds but you insisted you two go. You desperately wanted to get out of the house and do yourself up after living in sweatpants.
Chris couldn't deny despite the heartburn, oily hair, night sweats and cankles you were glowing and looked absolutely stunning tonight to the point he had to hold himself back from giving you another baby.
"We can go home at anytime." He rubbed the small of your back lightly, fidgeting with the top layer of your dress.
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You two approached the interview platform, Chris easing you gently yet forcing your whole body weight on him as he helped up the short 2 inch step.
You smiled at him endearingly as you approached the report. He wasn’t necessarily a bad reporter he just was a bit too enthusiastic for you and Chris’s liking not to mention a little invasive both figuratively and physically.
Chris knowing this placed himself between you and the reporter, hand encasing yours between you two.
“And here we have Chris, Y/N and the bump..” He outstretched his hand, verging towards your bump but not before the ever alert Chris, pushed his hand away promptly
“Absolutely not.” Chris said sternly, eyeing the report with challenging eyes.
He laughed nervously, moving his hands back into his pockets.
“Well do you guys know the gender yet?”
“We do!” You both said proudly, at the same time.
“Well how about giving us a W News exclusive huh?”
“Yeah no we plan to keep that information between us and our family for the time being.”
“Oh come on is Captain America having a strong boy or beautiful girl… let it out.”
Chris was getting annoyed at this point, so you gave his forearm a soft squeeze.
“I don’t care if it’s a boy or a girl and either can be beautiful and strong at the same time. I’m just grateful for a so far healthy baby and wife. Thanks for your questions.”
You smiled up at him as he led you off the platform, reaching his limit on stupid questions.
Moving off the platform you let out a groan of pain. Chris’s eyes shot to your face concern written all over his;
“What’s wrong? You hurt?”
“No no.” You waved him “My feet are killing me.”
“I did tell you not to wear them.” You glared at his hindsight for now was not the time to play the “I told you so” game.
“It’s called an OUTFIT Christopher.” You spat at him through gritted teeth.
“Sorry sorry… here take ‘em off.” He crouched down, pulling up his slacks slightly to get on one knee.
“I can’t just do that in public!”
“You’re pregnant, you can get away with anything.” He brushed you off.
Chris lifted up the skirt of your dress, slowly easing your foot out of the shoes.
You sighed with relief as he gave your feet a quick massage in his large hands.
“Better right?”
“So much better. Thank you.” You gave him a quick peck on the lips.
Holding the heels in his hands, you walked the rest of the event barefoot and in way less pain.
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gabessquishytum · 5 months
Note
A thought for you: imagine Dream being Robyn’s tutor.
Dream was hired when Robyn was 5 to teach him in all the things young nobility should know. He’s never really met the man who employs him, since Hob is often away doing his knightly duties or what have you. He mostly interacts with Eleanor when he has questions or concerns.
Robyn has the BIGGEST crush on Dream. The man is so pretty, even though he’s strict and forces Robyn to do school work instead of playing outside. Robyn constantly talks about Dream in his letters to his dad.
When Robyn is 10, Eleanor passes suddenly and Hob comes home. Robyn is an absolute mess, and Hob isn’t much better. Robyn, though, blames Hob for not being there for them and is always angry. He instead seeks solace in Dream, who is not at all emotionally aware enough to comfort a grieving child.
Dream does what any sensible person who is completely out of his depth would do and consults with Hob about things. They meet regularly to talk about how Robyn is doing. Hob does his best to stay strong for everyone, but he’s falling apart inside. He breaks down in front of Dream during one of their talks and all Dream can do is try their best.
After a few years have passed, things are doing much better. Hob and Robyn still miss Eleanor like crazy, but they’ve both moved on. Robyn has grown into a brilliant young man, and Hob couldn’t be more proud of him. Dream, who has essentially been co-parenting Robyn since he was young, feels much the same way.
Hob is pretty smitten with Dream after so many years, and the feeling is definitely mutual, but they’re both holding themselves back. They both have so many doubts about how the other feels, the societal pressures of their different classes, worries about Robyn, and the memory of Eleanor hanging over them.
Robyn has long since outgrown his childhood crush on his tutor (who is more of a father figure/family friend at this point), but he realizes one day that he isn’t the only Gadling that was completely taken by Dream. Cue Robyn doing his very best to get the two most important men in his life together.
After they’re together and Hob realizes just how involved Robyn was in the process, he gets to tease Robyn mercilessly about his old crush and Robyn gets to retaliate with all the embarrassing stuff Hob would write where he didn’t think anyone would find it. Dream is highly amused watching his two boys bicker.
(I started typing with only the ‘Robyn has a crush on Dream’ part in mind and it ballooned lol)
- 🎮 anon
Love this as a slowburn romance <3
I bet that teenage Robin spends sooo much time trying to distract Dream from teaching lessons by talking about Hob. And Dream is a strict teacher but dammit if he doesn't want to talk about Hob too!! When Robin starts talking about what Hob has been up to, how his favourite horse went lame and he spent the whole night in the stable taking care of it, Dream can't help letting him ramble on. Mainly because Dream is totally busy daydreaming about how wonderful and sweet Hob is.
When they finally, finally get together, Robin is so proud to take credit for some of it. He's kind of annoyed that now he's officially got two parents motherhenning him again, but secretly he loves knowing that Dream and his dad discuss his welfare. He secretly loves that whenever he brings home someone who he has a romantic attachment to, he knows that Hob will tease him and compare his newest crush to Dream.
He also knows that his mum would be so pleased and proud of all of them. Eleanor was very fond of Dream, and Robin bets that she's having a great time laughing at Hob and how absolutely head over heels he is.
Sucks that Dream still makes him do lessons, but... sometimes Hob comes in to their little classroom and distracts his beloved tutor for a while. Maybe it's his way of paying Robin back for his help in the successful romancing of Dream!
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deadghosy · 2 months
Note
Not a request, but I wanna know from you...
HOW THE HAZBIN HOTEL CHARACTERS WOULD ACT DURING NIGHT 5 IN FNAF.
(Including the Vees and the angels).
Please do it my brain is rotting/pos and ur the only type of blog I can ask these questions lmao
Mmmmmh, I haven’t played fnaf since i was gah damn 6 years old and I only saw like night 1. But I heard about how damn hard night 5 is. So here we go.
Lucifer, this man…..THIS SHORT LIL FUNNY MAN IS MOST DEFINITELY TRYING TO NOT BLOW UP THE WHOLE THE WHOLE RESTAURANT. But he fails as Freddy turned off the lights only to get knocked by a big ass apple Lucifer had thrown. Lucifer is staying in his palace watching cartoons.
Charlie, what makes you think she would be in there without her father who is telling her “GET YOUR ASS BACK HOME!” With her lovely girlfriend. But nah honestly she’ll try to pull a Snow White and try to talk to the animatronics that wants to kill her as freddy’s eyes start to flash its light.
Vaggie, I mean she would be so skeptic to even take the job. So when it reaches night 5, you better believe she turned into the meme of “fuck this shit I’m out.” Immediately she is stabbing them with the spear.
Alastor, PFTTT- this man is burning the place down dead ass😭. This man will probably so just sit and drink tea as he causes another fnaf 3 😭😭
Angel dust, mosttt definitely will try to flirt his way out of being skilled and put into a suit. If that fails. He’s running max speed in them damn high leg heels his got while clutching his pearls and purse 🧍🏾
Husk, he’s too drunk for the damn job 😭 he probably acts like that Mike version that like got bite by foxy? Yk that Version? Uuuh what’s her name rebonica? Yeah that mike version but just grumpy and an alcoholic
Sir pentious, he’s crying as he curls up. 😭 poor thing, and his egg boil ate trying to survive the night as one of them dead by being cracked. But chica probably wants to adopt one of them eggs lol
Cherri, she’s blowing that bitch up if foxy tried running towards her.
The Vee’s, they are the trio who argue who is doing what duty to watch them robot fuckers. But mostly I think Vox will make them haywire and just walk out as if he is some badass
Adam, “yeah fuck no” is what he would say if one of them try to get him. He’s dead ass throwing them out the office and closing all the doors.
Lute, …..she’s straight up leaving the minute the power goes out. Not in fear, but she is tired of this shit and wants to just relax.
Sera, What makes you think she would even be in that place- 😭 she’s literally in heaven just minding her business when she gets teleported surrounded by robots. She might as well just opens portal and go to heaven and leave them looking dumb.
Emily, no. Just no. This sweet BABYYY😭😭🥺 but if I had to, she would be like Charlie and pull a Snow White while trying not to cry in fear.
THATS ALL I GOT!
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miabebe · 4 months
Text
Christmas With Seventeen
Scenarios of what I think Christmas season will be like with the Seventeen members :)
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A/n - this is my first time writing fluff, I don't do fluff, like ever. Guess I'm in a mood this holiday season. Mild suggestive if you squint hehe. It's not proof read, specially since I'm a day late with this lol, will fix the tenses and mistakes later, sorry!
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Seungcheol - Christmas Homebody
Seungcheol absolutely loves Christmas. He would be so excited the days leading up to it. He loves accompanying you to shop for decorations (of course he makes sure to pay for every last thing). He loves noticing even the small things you look and smile at so he can buy and gift them to you (the man truly spoils you). He loves watching you decorate the Christmas tree and loves it even more when you ask him to help put the ornaments up where you can't reach.
But the colder it gets, he turns into a homebody, preferring to stay in rather than going out, like he promised he would this year. As compensation, he obediently sits and binge watches your favourite rom coms (that he too obviously loves and secretly cries through). What he loves most is when the two of you cuddle under the sheets by the fire place, in a way that allows him to place soft kisses behind you ear time and again. This was all he ever wanted.
Jeonghan- Christmas Adventurer 
Jeonghan hates the winter cause the cold is truly not his best ally but when it comes to an adventure, he's always down. Jeonghan loves making precious memories so taking you to the skii cabin that he used to go to as a child is just another way for him to make a great memory even better. (Plus, he'd also get to show off his mad skills on the slopes). That being said, the man still hates the cold so do expect the mornings to start with a lot of never ending whining of wanting to stay in bed, wrapped up with you.
Once you manage to drag him out though, drowning him in thick layers of clothes, he's unstoppable and a totally different man - excited, mischievous, hurling snowballs at you, tackling you into a snow fight filled with kisses and giggles. In the evening, when the whole family gathers in the lounge for a lego building competition, he's his most serious self, and you watch him, smiling to yourself over a hot cup of chocolate.
Joshua- Christmas Dinner Host 
Shua is truly a people's person. He's always celebrated Christmas quite traditionally given his childhood in the US. For him, its all about family and company so he's definitely down to host a Christmas dinner in his house. There's Secret Santa, drunk friends loudly singing carols and everyone is just having a good time. He doesn't like watching you spend so many long and tiring hours in the kitchen cooking up a feast so his dinners are always a potluck.
Oh and of course, there's always a dress code - Joshua needs a little madness in his life so costumes is where he lets himself get crazy. Last year, everyone had to dress up in their ugliest Christmas sweater and this year too he's surely up to not good, you just don't know what yet. What you do know, is that nearing midnight, once he kicks everyone out, he'll come back and throw himself onto you in the bed, kissing you softly before the two of you fall asleep, tired but happy.
Jun - Christmas Dancer
Christmas isn't really a huge deal for Jun. He's just happy to get a few days off to celebrate some festivities and spend some time with you. Come Christmas he's taking you out to your favourite restaurant which he reserved weeks ago. After that, he takes you for a surprise - a night of salsa dancing downtown. The two of you dance for hours, laughing and spinning away. He loves watching you move in the dress you've been dying to wear, stealing little kisses whenever he can. He can also see all those other men glance at you more than often but he doesn't care - He knows you only have eyes for him.
At the end of the night, when your feet cannot take the heels anymore, he offers to give you his shoes which you promptly reject, it would be too cold for him. So instead, he decides to carry you till the train station on his back, your arms tightly wrapped around him, only regretting his decision when you start playfully whispering graphic and inappropriate things in his ear.
Hoshi - Unconventional Christmas
Hoshi doesn't follow trends, he sets them. For him it's all about standing out, making new traditions, thinking out of the box. That's why there's an upside down Christmas tree and Christmas gloves instead of stockings in your house. Though there are some (cringey) traditions he strictly follows like wearing matching pajamas while video calling both your families. Of course he was  disappointed when you rejected his tiger pajama idea yet again but he was still happy to wear the red and green ones you bought.
He also likes to sit you on the kitchen counter and cook something you like, definitely with your instructions and guidance. When you clean up for the night, surprisingly, he's not giving you company. Instead, you discover, he's busy building a blanket fort in the middle of your living room, filling it with pillows, fairy lights and a mini projector. You're not really sure what movie you watched that night. Not with the two of you busy with hands roaming around each other amidst the sheets.
Wonwoo - Christmas is all about You
For Wonwoo, any holiday is a good opportunity for him to engage in some of his more favourite activities like gaming for hours on the end. But he knows how much you love Christmas so this holiday is entirely yours, he'll do whatever you want. This year you dress him up to match your outfit and take him to the Christmas market, roaming from stall to stall, dragging him excitedly. Not only does he sweetly follow you, carrying all the excessive shopping you've done, he also makes it a point to capture every reaction of yours on that camera of his.
His favourite photo is probably the one of you looking up at the night sky in awe at the first snow of the year - you look so damn beautiful, he can just keep watching you for hours on the end. When he notices you slightly shivering, he wraps you in his jacket, pulling you close. The soft kiss you give him on his nose gives him all the warmth he needs.
Woozi - Christmas at work
Christmas for Woozi doesn't necessarily mean a holiday. Of course the company gave him the week off but he has deadlines to meet. On Christmas day though, he mentally prepares himself to leave earlier than usual but you know, like always, he'll get too immersed in his work and forget the time. You decide to bring Christmas to him instead so when he wakes in his studio on Christmas morning, you're already there, decorating the place, earning his fond smile.
The two of you spend hours there, you watching him work and him making you listen to some of his tracks in progress. He loves the way your eyes shine when you listen to his songs, that's why you find yourself being pulled into his lap, lips trapped in a deep kiss. When he pulls away, much to your surprise, he asks to head back home. He was serious when he decided to wrap up his work earlier than usual - He wants nothing more than to be with you, in the peace of your home, alone.
Seokmin - Handmade Christmas
Seokmin loves the little Christmas traditions you follow - buying a new ornament for the tree every year, making your very own Christmas wreath and baking that delicious log cake you always make without fail. This year he wants to switch things up a bit so he's been going to classes for a while now, learning pottery and clay modelling secretly. He gifted you the most beautiful handmade coffee mug for Christmas (knowing your habit of having a cup first thing in the morning) but he has more in mind - he wants the two of you to sit together and make this year's new ornament for the tree.
He guides you, teaching you patiently but also laughing at your little mishaps and failings. The lesson ends with a new angel figurine hanging on the tree and the two of you smothered with clay and paint on the floor under it, laughing against each others lips. It makes him all the more happier when you slide him a scarf that you made, after weeks of secret knitting classes.
Mingyu - Christmas Cooking
Of course Mingyu is the most excited about the food and booze when it comes to Christmas. He's been working on his own batch of cherry wine for weeks now and wow does it taste amazing. He's also got some mulled wine that he started making, but that's for after dinner. Speaking of dinner, he loves switching up the menu every year and on this year's list are mostly desserts, which means hours of baking together. He absolutely loves the little icing and decorations you've done on the gingerbread cookies - that crazy creative side of yours always amuses him.
Obviously he's also made a huge Christmas playlist and is blasting them on the speakers through the day. He's also randomly pulling you into the living room for a dance, making sure the two of you somehow, end up under the mistletoe so he can sneak in a few mandatory kisses. It's only when you're both slightly tipsy and settling into the couch for the night that he considers it to be a successful day.
Myungho - Artsy Christmas
Well, if there's a new exhibition in town, of course Myungho was going to take a look. Except, the last day was exactly at the time his year end break started, which meant he only just missed the chance to see it. When he messaged the organisers that he was sad to have missed their show and would love to catch them next year, they immediately responded saying they were willing to open the exhibition one more night, just for him. And you too of course.
That's how on Christmas evening, the two of you found yourself having a little museum date, with the whole space all to yourself. For a while he walked around excitedly talking about the history and artists of various pieces but the night eventually ended with some horribly inaccurate but hilarious impressions of paintings. Safe to say, the both you have new wallpapers on your phone now - a picture of him kissing you in front of the painting of a lady who looks mortified.
Seungkwan - Christmas with Family
You were pleasantly surprised when Seungkwan surprised you with 2 plane tickets to go back and see you family this holiday. He was familiar with your family through phone calls and video chats but he still hadn't met them in person and you weren't sure if Christmas was the right time for that considering your whole extended family would be home. You hoped for the best as the two of you got home, but honestly, there could be nothing better than this.
He fit into your family perfectly -  everyone loved him, they were always laughing when he was around, even the family dog seemed to always want to sit by him. Your favourite moment though was watching him sitting in the middle of your many nieces and nephews, reading them a whole bunch of Christmas tales. When he looked up and smiled at you, you sent all the kids off for dinner, pulling him for a deep kiss before softly suggesting the two of you go off to start a family of your own.
Vernon - Christmas Overseas
Vernon didn't think Christmas would turn out like this -  Flying into Paris on the Christmas morning, attending the brand event in the afternoon and the after party at night - it was not a part of his plan at all. The only good thing that came out if it was that you agreed to join him. He was glad the two of you had a chance to fly in a private plane early in the morning. And that you were cozily sitting next to him along the run way. And that you looked so absolutely stunning in that black gown his team put you in for the after party.
That's why after he made an appearance and posed for a few pictures, he softly held your hand and lead you out, escaping silently from the paps. Then he called for a horse carriage fit for royalty, claiming you look like no less than one and sat, his arm wrapped around you safely. As you drove into the night, snow falling prettily, he left soft kisses on your neck, sighing that he was so happy you're here with him.
Dino - (Un)planned Christmas
Dino had been dying to get out of the country for days now. He knew you too were sick and tired of the cold and were in desperate need of a retreat. That's why for the year end holidays, he planned a trip to Greece, knowing it was on your bucketlist for years now. He made sure to plan the perfect vacation, the right blend of touristy things and relaxing activities.
On Christmas day though, he didn’t forget to give you his gift - a lovely blue dress for a special dinner. He also rented out that convertible you're always talking about (in the exact same colour as the dress he got you) and drove you into the sunset, blasting the mixtape that you gifted him. It was absolutely perfect, just the two of you in your own world until it began pouring rain, forcing him to quickly pull up into a nearby shelter. But when Dino watched you getting wet, enjoying the rain on your own as he tried to fix the hood of the convertible, he gave up and joined you, laughing as he ducked away from your water attack and pulled you into a long kiss.
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cowboyfromh3ll · 7 months
Note
Hi!! Your writing is always so wonderful and i was wondering if you’d be up to write something if you still take requests!
I have this whole long and detailed storyline in my head with an oc. I’ll write a short summary about her and if you’d like I would be head over heels if you come up with some sort of scenario!
Basically she’s very masculine presenting, often mistaken for a young man/boy because of it. Hot headed and pretty reckless at times. She’s around Abigail’s age but joined the gang a year or so before. She’s not the brightest in general but every now and then has some surprisingly smart things to say. In general personality wise a mix of Mushy and Rowdy from Rawhide, if you’ve watched the show. I think she’d get along with Sean the most because of her personality. But she’s secretly got the hots for Arthur, she’s pretty decent at hiding it however. Loyal like a dog to him specially, however the feelings she harbours for him will forever be onesided.
IDK IF THIS IS TOO LONG TO READ OR TO DUMB TO COME UP WITH A SCENARIO. BUT LIKE??? Do whatever you want with all this, if it’s even interesting at all. THANKS EITHER WAY🤞🏽😝
My Love Is Not Mine, All Mine
(Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader Angst)
Reader is masc presenting in this, you read the req. Also angst. No comfort lol. Creative freedom is a blessing.
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What do you do with a loving feeling if a loving feeling makes you feel all alone. Your heart squeezes. Your stomach tries to cave in on itself. Your body becomes shamefully frail; muscles taut and sore, a perpetual ache plaguing your body. You’d take on the brunt of the day, and feel it collapse on you at night. Your weary knees would carry you through it all, and you could squash a week into a day. You become addicted to the loneliness and desperation, because you do not know what else to do with yourself. It is the most familiar feeling you know, and you have convinced yourself it is your destiny.
But when you wake up Arthur in the morning, and when you wait for him at night, and when you wait for his beck and call so often that you do not have your own freedom, it is comparable to having a dog. You would do anything for him, and he for you, but the passion is interrupted. You were his literal and metaphorical partner in crime, and when one of you would ride, so came along the other to accompany them.
Spending so much time with Arthur reminded you of what it was like to be fulfilled. You were hungry for love, and you longed for Arthur to feed you so full until you could not take it anymore. You wanted to know what it was like. He would fill your bowl, but not lift the spoon to your lips.
You awoke from your dream softly, turning over and away from the light casting down on your face. You wished you could keep dreaming, but when you saw Arthur’s figure standing a few feet away where the stew cooked, you were given a million reasons to stay awake. You hoisted your aching body up onto your elbows, your joints groaning and creaking as a reminder that the previous night had not been kind to you. You’d change out of your chemise into dusty jeans and a cotton button up, shoving your feet into a pair of pointed black boots. They had been your continual choice of foot wear for the past few years. A good pair of boots could be your companion forever. Oh, how you longed for a companion. Soon, the soles would crack and the leather would crease in a thousand more places, but you’d keep wearing them out anyways. You were loyal.
You paced over towards the fire, leaning down to pour yourself a cup of coffee. You’d utter a tired “Morning” to Arthur, flickering your eyes towards him before staring back down at the liquid in your mug. He’d return the gesture as he served himself a stew; it reminded you of how hungry you were. But you could not bring yourself to eat, the butterflies in your stomach would not allow you.
Before long, you’d find yourself naturally gravitating towards Sean (though you were ready to abandon him the moment Arthur called for you).
“How’s my favorite lad—I mean lass doing this fine morning?” Sean’s energy would leave others jaded, but you would come at him with the same level of enthusiasm. He always had a way with his words that kept your spirits high.
“I’m doing just fine! Thank you.” You groaned as you sat, stretching your back and hearing a satisfying crack.
“Sheesh, someone didn’t have a good night’s rest did they?” He would comment mockingly, chuckling to himself when you flipped him off.
“Yeah actually, had another one of those weird, recurring dreams.” You waved your hand dismissively, opting to not want to talk about the topic. But Sean was persistent, and he’d take any bit of entertainment he could get, even from you.
“Well, there’s definitely a cure to your predicament.” He looked at you slyly, bringing his coffee to his lips. You rolled your eyes. You hated the thought of it. Some part inside of you cringed at the thought. Of tearing yourself open in all your glory and allowing Arthur to look inside you, allowing him a chance to try and understand your most tender and sentimental facets. Lord knew he would not allow you the chance, his walls were so thick you were convinced not even he could tear them down.
You looked at your boots in defeat.
“Not happening.” You sighed in frustration.
“Come on! What’s the point of living if ya don’t take risks every now and then?”
Sean did not understand that you did not fear risk, rather, you feared loss of companionship. And you clung to it more dearly than your own life.
“It’s too early to be talking about this!” You spat, an unpredictable aggressiveness in your tone.
“Y’know, for one of the most reckless and straightforward people I know, you sure are shy when it comes to this crush business.” Sean teased you in return, egging on your aggressiveness.
You shushed Sean, condemning him for being so loud. You didn’t want anyone else around camp to know about your feelings for Arthur. Not that you had ever willingly told Sean about them; he more or less figured it out on his own and teased you about it. You allowed Sean to, because you got some sort of satisfaction out of someone acknowledging your feelings. Sean allowed you to blush and giggle about your crush with the likeness of a schoolgirl, and he did not shut you down once. You did not want to hear about how high Arthur’s walls were, or how unavailable he was, or how he preferred ladies as opposed to you. He did not give you any of that, rather, he provided you with encouragement, told you to go for what you wanted. Most importantly, he didn’t turn your business into gossip.
You appreciated the gestures, but you could not find it in you to go for it. You were a great gunslinger, you did amazing in heists, you had an affinity for sniffing out leads, you ran into things headfirst; action first and think later you told yourself. But when it came to this, you second guessed everything you did. You never made your feelings obvious, you hid them well. But in terms of your loyalty to Arthur, that said everything for you.
Eventually, Arthur approached you, asked you to ride with him. Naturally, you followed suit, bidding Sean goodbye as he playfully raised his brows at you.
“Where we headed?”
“Into town, I got a letter from someone asking for help.” His explanation was brief, but you knew perhaps what this meant. Your stomach tied up into knots and squeezed, and you suddenly felt your body become heavy with each of your movements.
“I see, but why do you want me to go along…?” There was a tinge of hope in your voice; what you were hoping, you did not know.
“Just in case something happens and I might need you.”
You nodded.
“And, we always ride together anyways.” He added.
You did not expect that, but you felt your chest swell with pride, and you turned your head to hide the inescapable smile. You nodded in acknowledgement, the words echoing in your head.
Your ride towards Saint Denis was quiet. Which was unusual. You would usually talk up a storm, and Arthur would happily entertain it. But this ride was different. The only sounds accompanying your ride was the drumming of hooves on red earth, as well as the metallic gallop of a far off train. You noticed Arthur was rigid, stiff, yet fidgety. You almost felt bad for being in a good mood from his words, but the heaviness between you spread when you remembered where you were heading.
Eventually drumming turned into clopping, as dirt roads turned into stone paved streets. The unwelcoming miasma of Saint Denis had you wheezing, fanning the air ahead of you. It felt as though even in open air, you could not suck in a deep breath. As the two of you approached your destination, Arthur seemed restless. You noticed the way he would tighten and then untighten his fists, and as the two of you dismounted your horses, he kept fiddling with his collar and hair.
“Need help there?” You offered, giggling at his particularness.
“Yes, I would appreciate that very much.” He laughed dryly, his attempts at calming his nerves with humor were in vain. You stepped forward and adjusted his collar, and even if brief, you felt his heart hammering at his chest. You bit the inside of your cheek to sustain another smile (you wondered if you had to do something with it?). You took his hat off his head, fixing his hair for him. A few passer bys looked on at the vaguely intimate scene with prying eyes, perhaps they found it strange how a “man” was so close to and helping another man. Yet perhaps, you were more man than woman. You dressed like a man, carried yourself like one, did things that only men could do, you drank like one, talked like one—.
“How do I look?” He asked, before curling his lips in a nearby window, checking his reflection. You giggled.
“Lovely.” You commented. You scratched at the skin on your arm, letting your nails dig in a little deeper.
“Thank you.” He looked back at you, a wavering confidence in him. Wordlessly, he motioned for you to follow him, and you did, walking by his side. Arthur studied the buildings, trying to find the location to which he was summoned to.
“Arthur! Up here!” A voice called out.
The two of you looked up, and upon seeing Mary Linton, your suspicions were confirmed. You had to will away the pressure that built up in your face, your throat becoming unbearably dry.
Arthur smiled and nodded at her.
“You came! And you brought your…” Mary looked at you, studying your face as if she would find an answer there. “Friend!” She finished.
You nodded at Mary, hands behind your back.
“Pleasure to meet you Miss, I’m (Name.)” The pitch in your voice gave her the answer she sought.
The prospect of Arthur having never told Mary about you stung. Perhaps something you’d bring up later.
“Hold on a minute, I’ll be down!” She called out, before disappearing into the hotel. Moments later, she appeared before the both of you. She and Arthur seemed to devolve into hushed conversation, to which you had no choice but to awkwardly stand there. Arthur had shared more intimate details of his life with you before, but to be witnessing one had you rigid. You did not know whether to breathe a sigh of relief or to sob out in fear when Arthur politely asked you for a moment of privacy with Mary.
Perhaps you should’ve said no to coming along as soon as Arthur told you what this was about. You pondered this as you walked down the wet stone sidewalk, looking up at the sky rather than at the floor. You stopped eventually, and stared.
You thought back to the time you had gotten into a bar fight with a man in Rhodes, and Arthur practically had to peel you off the poor bastard as you beat his face blue. You remembered the lecture he gave you for acting so reckless and impulsively. You told him the man deserved it for shoulder checking you, which only made Arthur chastise you more.
The truth was, he’d made a sly remark about Arthur.
You were pulled out of your train of thought when you heard hasty footsteps behind you. Normally you would’ve prepared for the worst, but you knew those footsteps well. They were Arthur’s, of course.
You turned around in excitement, ready to greet him, ask him how things went. But your face dropped, your eyes nearly popping out your skull when you saw his forlorn expression. Was he— blinking away tears?
“Uhm… You okay?” You asked hesitantly. You reached out a shaky hand to his shoulder, stuttering in your movements out of uncertainty, before you set it down fully. He allowed the touch. Arthur cleared his throat, bringing his fingers together to pinch his bridge, but not before wiping the seams of his eyes with his finger and thumb.
“Yes, sweetheart, I’m fine.”
The way he called you sweetheart was bittersweet; it stung so good. You could almost taste it; you licked your lips.
“What happened?” You asked, moving forward to try and look him in the eyes. You placed both your hands on his shoulders now. You swore you saw more tears well up in his eyes when you asked, which he blinked away.
“Mary asked me for help, again.”
“Oh.” That was all you could say.
“I turned her down.”
“Oh.”
“It’s fine though, it’s just…I didn't think I should, after all that’s happened.”
You nodded in understanding. He looked deeply hurt by his decision, and it was one you were not sure you could help comfort him over without hurting yourself. The two of you stood there silently for a moment.
"I'm a bad man, aren't I, (Name)." His voice wavered. He looked up at you with sadness in his eyes, and it felt like barbed wires were being tightened over your throat and heart when he said that. It stung to see Arthur speak so lowly of himself.
"No Arthur, of course not… you're one of the best men I know…"
He chuckled sadly. "Thank you, but I'm a no good fool, who doesn't know what he wants."
You took notice of the people who walked around your heartfelt moment, like a river parting for a rock. You knew of Arthur's issues with self esteem, and you knew that no matter what you said, he would not take it to heart.
Another moment of silence— until Arthur walked past you towards where your horses were waiting. In a moment of impulsivity, you gripped his forearm, stopping him in his tracks.
He looked at you in surprise, first at where you grabbed him, then at you.
"I… I..."
You began, but the words did not seem to come out. Your grip on his arm was tight, tightening slightly when you became keenly aware of the rising tension. But he did not look at you with impatience, never. Rather, concern. As the seconds passed, you tried to find the right words to say, but it did not happen.
"I'm sorry…" You felt the familiar feeling of your throat tightening up and running dry. He managed a half hearted smile before patting your hand. You felt his palm smooth over your knuckles, before you both let go.
"It's okay, let's go get a drink somewhere. I think we both need it."
'I think we both need it' You would ponder his choice of words. You felt your body become heavy, and any movement felt like you were dragging your limbs across the stone floor. Wearily and wordlessly, you followed.
You did not know what to do with all the love you had for him. You did not know where to put it.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
My Love Mine All Mine - Mitski
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five-bi-five-mind · 1 year
Note
Mirror sex with sub!JJ X dom!reader
The Dress
Fandom: Criminal Minds
Pairing: JJ x fem!Reader
Genre: Smut just pure smut
Words: 1.5k+
Summary: You see JJ getting ready for a fancy gala and you just can't keep your hands to herself when you see how she looks in her new dress.
Warnings: Pretty much what the prompt says. Mirror sex, top!reader, bottom!JJ, fingering (JJ receiving).
A/N: Okay anon, my first attempt at bottom JJ. How'd I do? Seriously, y'all need to let me know if you ever want more top!reader stuff lol
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(gif not mine; credit to sapphicprentiss)
“Wow,” You smirked as you came up to the closet door. Your wife was standing in the back of your walk-in closet, twisting and turning as she checked out the new dress she was wearing in the body length mirror standing in the back. You knew when she bought the dress it would look good on her, but you didn’t fully grasp how stunning it would make her look. Now all you could do was lean against the door frame and stare. 
JJ’s eyes met yours in the mirror and all she could do was grin at the way you took in her every curve.
God damn, you had a hot wife. Even on days when she didn’t try she was gorgeous, but tonight was a whole other level. Her hair was neatly styled and waves of beautiful blonde locks were resting just right on her shoulders, her makeup was pristine, the heels she had picked out accentuated her toned legs perfectly, and that dress… fuck, that dress was driving you crazy. She managed to pick the perfect shade of red to compliment her complexion, a dress that looked tight in all the right places and left very little for the imagination. A dress that was short enough that you could just slip your hands up her…
“What do you think?” 
“Huh?” JJ’s voice snapped you out of your practical drooling.
“How do I look? Is this okay for tonight?” JJ held your gaze through the mirror as she chewed on her lip and waited for your response.
Is this okay for tonight? Has she seen herself? Of course it is. It’s okay for every fucking night going forward for all you cared. She had some big fancy gala thing she was roped into going to with other coworkers and, knowing JJ, she had to go above and beyond to dress appropriately. You, on the other hand, were in sweats and a plain white t-shirt. Somehow you convinced her to let you sit this boring gala thing out. A choice you were now regretting since it meant you can’t stare at your wife for much longer this evening. Unless, maybe just maybe, you could convince her to stay…
“You look gorgeous,” You gave her a cheeky grin this time. One that, if she was still paying attention to you, rather than focusing on a random stray strand of hair, she would’ve seen right through. 
You pushed yourself off the door frame and stepped fully into the closet, right behind your wife. “Honestly,” you began as your hands slid to either side of her waist from behind, “I’d say you look almost too gorgeous in that dress. It would be a crime to let you just leave…” 
“(Y/N)…” JJ warned, a playfulness in her voice telling you she didn’t mind. “I promised I’d make an appearance.” 
“Hm…” Your chin rested on her shoulder as you pressed your whole body against her back. “I’m sure you can be a little late.” Your eyes met hers again in the mirror and this time you could see that she knew exactly what you were getting at. 
“It took me forever to get ready and squeeze into this dress.” 
“Then,” You said as one hand moved from her waist to slip down onto her thigh. “We don’t have to take it off.” Your hand reached around to slide up her inner thigh, all the while pushing her dress up the higher you got between her legs. 
You looked down for a moment, drinking in how she looked right now. Face slightly flushed, leaning back on you, her dress hiked up a little with your hand resting right where she wanted it most. Just when you think she can’t get anymore gorgeous, she goes and proves you wrong. 
Your fingers start pressing incredibly lightly on her clit through her panties but before you go any further, your eyes flick back up to hers. She’s got hers glued on your hand, but when you freeze she looks back up. You search her eyes for permission and she knows exactly what you’re doing without even having to say a word. All you needed was a nod, that she eagerly gave you, before you push her panties to the side and finally slip your fingers through her folds. 
She’s already wet. You’ve barely touched and she’s soaked your fingers. Just the feeling of that makes you both groan. You let your fingers lazily run up and down her slit, enjoying the way she shudders ever so slightly each time you pass over her clit. There’s an overwhelming need inside you to take your time with her, to thoroughly enjoy every part of her body, but you also know your wife has places to be in that sinfully gorgeous dress of hers, and right now you can’t waste much time. There will be time later tonight to enjoy her more, but for the moment, ruining your wife in that dress will have to suffice. So, that’s exactly what you’re going to do.
“Fuck!” JJ cries out. With barely any warning and barely any resistance, you slid two fingers into her. Where she was once leaning against you, the blonde now was gripping onto the corner of the mirror in front of her to steady herself while you began to steadily pump your fingers in and out of her. However good you were making her feel, you thought perhaps you were enjoying yourself just as much, watching your fingers go in and out of the blonde from the mirror. Your eyes were glued to the way you watched them disappear inside of her, only to pull back out, glistening with her wetness, before pushing them back in with some strength behind it and earning yourself a deep moan from the woman you were currently knuckles deep in. 
Your eyes flicked back up to JJ’s face for a moment and you noticed you weren’t the only one paying attention to the mirror. Her eyes were also fixated on the way your fingers were pumping into her and you could tell by the sounds slipping out of her that she was thoroughly enjoying what she was seeing too. Slowing down for a moment, you didn’t miss the pout that came across her face before you used your free hand to reach around and grab her jaw. 
Yanking her head back up so her eyes would meet yours in the mirror, you gave her a smug smirk. “You like watching yourself get fucked?” You whispered, watching as her eyes fluttered shut from the feeling of your breath ghosting against her ear. “It seems like you’re enjoying the view as much as I am, babe.” Your teeth grazed against the shell of her ear and you didn’t miss the way her walls tightened around your fingers as you began to pick up the pace again.
JJ’s knuckles were white from the way she was holding onto the edge of the mirror for support when you started to drive into her faster and faster. The skirt of her dress was pushed up above her abdomen at this point and you were enjoying seeing her muscles tense as she was getting close. The hand that was once holding her chin, let go and drifted back to her waist to hold her steady while you pumped your fingers harder and deeper into her. 
It was a good thing you two had thick walls because the sounds coming out of JJ were echoing throughout the whole apartment and you weren’t helping either, still whispering filthy things in her ear. 
“Are you close?” You mumbled against her skin before dragging your tongue down the side of her neck. All JJ can do is manage a frantic nod of her head, her eyes squeezed shut as you feel her body begin to tense. “Good, then open your eyes, baby,” You whisper. “I want you to watch yourself cum on my fingers.” With that, you curled your fingers inside her, hitting just the right spot that you knew your wife loved so much. JJ’s eyes shot open at the same moment a loud moan fell from her lips and after one, then two hard strokes of your fingers inside her you felt her fall apart. 
After a moment you stilled inside her, both of you just trying to catch your breath. Her body slumped into yours and you held her steady with the grip you still had on her waist. Slipping your fingers out of her slowly, you felt her shiver at the loss of contact. Both of you locked eyes in the mirror again and you grinned at the sleepy, satisfied look JJ had in her eyes.
“Wow,” You smirked and said again. JJ let out a quiet chuckle as she leaned against you. Her hair was a mess now, her dress was still bunched up above her hips, and her makeup somehow got a little smeared. Yet, as you took her in through the mirror again, you wondered how she still managed to look fucking gorgeous like that.
Taglist: @leecravesdeath @daddy-jareau @olliethedonut @desperate-gay @storiesofsvu
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octo-hyacinth · 2 years
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HYACINTH SORRY THIS IS SO LATE LMAO i was brain dead this whole time-
could i request hcs for pomefiore's (individual) reaction to mc giving them a flower? like they're both just walking along a sidewalk, mc finds a flower, picks it up, and is like "here :>" as they hand it to pomefiore lol i just thought it'd be cute <33
ooh this sounds cute! i’ll do my best <3
~~~~~
Pomefiore's Reaction to Receiving a Flower
Characters: Epel Felmier, Vil Schoenheit, Rook Hunt Content Warnings: Fluff, Vil is def head over heels for u,possible mischaracterization A/N: I'm barely familiar with any of these guys but I really tried not to mischaracterize... but don't shoot me if I messed em up.
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Epel Felmier
You had found a white sweet pea next to the walkway on your way to class, and you decided to gift it to your sweet Epel as soon as you saw him in the halls between classes.
Initially, Epel looked quite puzzled. "This's for me?" You nodded with a wide grin on your face. "Yeah, of course! It made me think of you, and I think you deserve it."
He felt some heat rush to his face, and he took the flower awkwardly, but you could see the appreciation on his face. "Well gosh, um, thank you... I ain't never got a gift like this given to me by someone my own age." Avoiding eye contact, he gently caressed the petals of the flower, wordlessly admiring it.
He looked like he wanted to say more, but the bell rang, reminding all students to go to their next class. "Aw, shoot, well thanks a bunch, I'll see ya later! Maybe I can get something fer you after school!" With a big smile on his face, he waved goodbye as he ran to his next class. He'd be sure to press your flower in a special book he'd been saving for his favorite plants, that way it'd never wilt, and it would stay as beautiful as it was the day you gifted it to him. Now all he wanted to do was find something that showed him how much he appreciated you.
Vil Schoenheit
It was late afternoon, and you were wandering around the prim garden surrounding Pomefiore, and you found a beautiful, vibrant white and purple pansy among them all. It had no blemishes or imperfections among its petals, and it reminded you of Vil. Maybe he would enjoy this, you thought. So you sought him out so you give it to him.
He was alone in his room, responding to his fan's comments on Magicam and grumbling over Neige's posts again, but he set his phone down once you entered.
"Is there something you require help with, Prefect?" He noticed your hands were behind your back, but decided to say nothing of it until you revealed your intentions.
"No, I just wanted to give you something, my dear Vil," you smoothly replied, and revealed the flower from behind your back with a flourish. You carefully watched his expression as he gazed upon the radiant pansy, and it seemed like he was holding back surprise. Out of all the gifts he had received from his many fans, none had felt so... sincere as this. Flowers were ephemeral in their beauty, and somehow that made it matter a little bit more to Vil.
He tried put on his celebrity's smile, the polite, yet impersonal one he used to accept all gifts from his fans, but you could tell this one was more genuine than that, whether he wanted it to be or not. This one was special, one only you could see. "Thank you, Prefect. I shall give this most fair flower a suitable vase."
"Glad you like it so much," you beamed. "Well, I'll leave you to yourself now. Have a good night."
"And goodnight to you, Y/N."
After you closed the door, and he was by himself again, he pressed a gentle kiss to the pansy's petals. How he wished that this flower was you, but it could not hold a candle to the fairest one of all in his eyes.
Rook Hunt
As you were wandering around the campus grounds, you found a yellow hibiscus that was already beautiful and blooming. You carefully plucked it from the ground, and as you stood up to smell it, you were startled by a loud gasp right by your ear. You whirled around, and Rook was standing right behind you, admiring the flower in your hand.
"My, my, Y/N, what a radiant flower you have there! C'est très joli, just like you!"
"Jeez, Rook, I had no idea you were there... but um, thanks?" You sighed, forcing your muscles to relax after he spooked you.
"May I?" he said, gazing up into your eyes before looking back down at the hibiscus, gloved fingers grazing the soft petals.
"Sure," you said, but instead of taking the flower, he gently held your hands in his, and guided them upwards so he could take in the flower's scent.
"Ah, it smells delightful! How lucky you were to find such a specimen." He seemed genuinely delighted with the flower, so on the spot, you had an idea.
"Hold still," you told him, and he complied, as you slipped the flower stem behind his ear. The flower was bright and beautiful against his complexion and uniform, and his hat helped it stay in place. You smiled, crossing your arms and approvingly nodding at your own work.
Rook was stunned into silence for only a brief millisecond before his grin spread even wider across his face. "Merci! Oh, but now we must find you a matching one, mon chéri!" He grabbed your hand, and led you across the fields in frantic search of a flower just as perfect as you.
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So, before I went to bed the other night, I came to realization that the Comedy of Arrows episode of Hercules the Animated Series had SO MUCH potential for a Hades x Persephone episode (if they made the decision to not go with the “Persephone is Hades and Demeter’s daughter” idea).
Like, the episode legit starts out with a little flower blooming into the underworld and Hades sees it and goes “Oh, look. A flower. Nature’s cheerful little reminder that…I DESPISE SPRING!” Lmao, like that could’ve worked SO WELL with a Hades x Persephone plot! Also, this episode was literally just a Valentine’s Day episode with Hades trying to ruin Cupid’s big “love operation” since apparently in Greece, spring is the season of love and romance. Like…seriously…THE LOST POTENTIAL!!!!
Now, there’s lots of way Persephone could be implemented since the spring season is the whole reason as to why Hades is doing what he’s doing. From what he heard from Pain and Panic’s magazine: “Spring love means long lives”. Hades’ numbers are way down in terms of new arrivals in the underworld, so he wants to fix that.
But anyways, one thing I really would’ve loved to see is the change in Hades’ attitude by the end of the episode. In the show Hades ends up getting hit by a bunch of love arrows from the cherubs thinking it’s not going to effect him since he’s a god and a cold hearted lord of the dead, but he ends up getting all lovey dovey by the end and the cherubs end up escaping the underworld so they can help Cupid spread springtime love.
I think if Persephone had somehow been implemented into the episode and stayed until the end where Hades gets defeated, it would’ve been so AWESOME to see him end up falling for her. Like, I just love the irony of it lol. In the beginning of the episode he burns a flower growing in his domain saying that he despises spring and thinks love is revolting (and ruining his business) then he turns around and is like “Never mind, I actually adore spring and love ain’t so bad after all”.
Now, it would’ve been really funny if Hades had been hit with the love arrows and Hades starts getting all flirty, and romantic, and lovey dovey towards Persephone while she’s just like “Ummm…this is getting really weird…” but I also love the idea of Hades not getting hit by the love arrows at all. He falls in love all on his own and just finally notices Persephone and how beautiful and cute she is. Like, how has he not noticed how her eyes sparkle like that?! She’s gorgeous! So, maybe to win Persephone over and prove that he’s “not so bad” he lets all the cherubs go and asks Persephone out on a date and she’s all hesitant because…it’s Hades lol.
Idk I just really like that juxtaposition of “I hate spring and love” to “I’m literally head over heels in love with the goddess of spring, I 100% change my mind” lol. Like seriously, so much lost Hades x Persephone potential with that episode!
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ch3rriewine · 1 year
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Pink in the night ♡ {R.L}
summary: Remus drunkenly confesses his feelings, romance ensues
warnings(?): 1.6k words, idk like fluff, loosely based off of the mitski song "pink in the night", little bad idk how i feel about this one, i wrote this with fem!reader in mind, reader has hair long enough to be tucked back lol, reader has a cat:D, remus is a cutie as always, remus is a clingy drunk, theyre at a party and drinking alcohol, like one mention of a weed smell, the time it takes for the pain meds to kick in is a tad unrealistic but it's fiction so who cares, i'll add more when i think of more
authors note: ahhh!!!!! second fic thing idk tell me what u think :p also tell me what else u want writing wise im trying to write more
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
Remus needs to talk to you, even standing near you would be great. You might as well be glowing pink, and the alcohol makes you look no less than a ray of sunlight. In a little black dress and some kitten heels, you stand close to Emmaline. That dress does wonders for your already lovely self, he thinks. You arrived a little later than everyone else, so you only had a few sips of some cocktail in you. He stumbles over to you, okay maybe he's drunk, not tipsy. Still, he managed to get over to you. Your perfume hits his senses and suddenly he’s forgotten why he’s over there. Oh yeah,
“Hey” you speak up first glancing at him with furrowed brows accompanied by a concerned smile.
“H-hey!” he yells, maybe a bit too loud, over the music. You're still smiling, now it’s not in concern, it's in fondness. He hopes you never stop.
“Having fun?” you chide, cocking your head a bit to the side. The smell of vodka and a small hint of cologne is eminent on him.
“No, not really” he slurs his words ever so slightly, grinning the smallest bit of pearly whites showing and something glinting in his eyes that you can't quite place.
Small talk ensues, and then he starts following you around the flat, chatting about nothing. Soon enough you're sat on a couch that smells faintly of booze and weed with Remus playing with a small lock of your hair. The strands twirl through his fingers, he seems oddly entertained by it, how much alcohol had Sirius given him?
“Rem, you look tired, you wanna stay the night at my place?” you ask, worried he’d pass out in this sticky mess. It’s only a friendly worry, not I secretly want to take care of you because I like you a whole lot worry, totally not.
“If it’s not too much of a hassle, sure” he mumbles, apparently too tired to speak up. Thankfully, your flat isn’t that far within walking distance. You two eventually make it back with no problems, other than Remus would occasionally trip on nothing. You lead him to your couch and sit him down, he’s already half asleep and he doesn't notice you taking off his coat for him and his shoes. You drag him back onto his feet and lead him to your bedroom, a lot harder than it sounds when it's a six-foot drunk man you're dragging. He plops down onto your bed, sighing at the feeling of your blankets and pillows surrounding him. You get a glass of water and some paracetamol on your bedside table for his oncoming hangover, then leave to change into your pajamas. He slowly assesses your bedroom, your bookshelves, the color of the walls, to your photos hanging up. It’s so you, everything just fits in perfectly with your character. You emerge from your bathroom changed and cleaned.
You're so lovely, he thinks. With your sleep shorts and an oversized shirt, you make your way over to your bed. “Get some rest, please, you had a lot to drink” ending your sentence with a small smile. That damn smile again.
“You’re so beautiful” he admires while sitting up, his face flushed from the alcohol and maybe something more. He eyed your lips with hazy eyes. “I really like you, as I think of you all day, it's hard to get stuff done. I really want to kiss you right now.”
“You’re drunk, get some rest and drink water” you insist.
“I’m serious!” he presses “you're so lovely” he sighs and falls back down onto the mattress.
“Scooch” you push him lightly so he moves over to the other side of the bed. “You won't feel like this in the morning, you're drunk.” you look into his eyes in the dim room, his dark brown irises looking almost black in the dark.
“I will,” he says before closing his eyes “I always will”. After a while, his breathing deepens and he's snoring lightly. He was saying that you were the one that was beautiful but look at him. His fluffed-up yet put-together hair, his bushy eyebrows, and the small, sparse freckles dotting his face, I mean come on. You fall asleep with your body turned towards him.
╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯
Remus awakes with meowing in his face. He blinks his eyes open slowly, looking at the black cat staring back at him. It was a small thing, with big yellow eyes and a pudgy figure. For a moment he was incredibly confused, he didn’t have a cat. He looked around to find that he wasn’t in his flat and he had a raging headache. His head was pounding and the shrill meowing wasn't helping. He looked over to his left seeing you. You were so peaceful like this, hair a mess, face completely relaxed, and hand resting on his chest.
He put the pieces together, he was in your flat after Sirius’ party, God did he say anything weird? Being too tired to think about it, he looks to his side to find water and some paracetamol. Downing the water, he turns toward your cat. Sashimi, he thinks is the name. Sashimi is sitting at the end of the bed now waiting patiently for his breakfast. Remus would feed him if he knew where you kept the cat food, so he has to wake you up. He dreads it, he'd rather not take you out of your peaceful state, but it’s for your son, as you call him.
“Hey, your cats hungry” he shakes you awake softly. “I'd feed him but I don't know where the food is”
You mumble something incoherent into your pillow, rolling into it. He laughs. That stupid, gorgeous laugh. “Ugh ok, I’ll feed him,” you say, not putting in any effort to get up. He rubs your arm comforting, the paracetamol already taking its effect.
You fight off the sleep still in your system and sit up. “Ok I’m awake, stay here if you want” Finally sitting up and getting out of bed. You smooth your hair, trying to salvage your appearance in any way possible. He follows close behind, walking out into your kitchen/living room, actually getting a good look at your living space. Your fake plants, your photos with your friends, and even a photo of you two. The photo is slightly blurry with you on his lap laughing wildly at something he said, a quaint smile spreading across his face at your reaction. It’s cute. He remembers that night, the party you guys were at, the smell of your perfume, the glitter coating your eyelids, the heels you took off halfway through the night, everything about you he remembers, yet he can't, for the life of him, remember what he said to make you laugh that hard.
The sound of a can opening pulls him back to the moment. Your cat meows at your feet, incessant with his demands for his breakfast. “Here you go, sweet boy,” you say to Sashimi while plopping the wet food into his bowl. Crouching to pet the cat’s soft fur, you turn your head and smile at Remus. “You want to go out for breakfast? There's a diner right around the corner.”
You sit opposite each other, him still in his alcohol-smelling clothes from the night before and you in sweats and a tank top with a flannel thrown over. The coffee is burnt and the bacon is too salty, but you couldn't be more content, what can you really expect from a diner whose main consumers are people like you, fighting hangovers with greasy food and coffee. “How're your eggs?” you ask, still kind of groggy.
“Rubbery,” he says around a mouthful of said eggs. “How’re your waffles?”
“Eh, they're ok,” you say moving your cut-up waffles around the plate with your fork, mind occupied.
“Are you ok? Something on your mind, lovely?” he asks. Of course, he can tell when you're out of sorts. Stupid, smart, amazing boy.
“You said, uhm, you said something last night.” you say “I just-I’m just thinking about it” you give him a small smile.
Oh God, what did he say? Did he mess it all up before he could even make a move? The poor boy looked mortified. It all came back to him, shit. He really said that to you? Drunkenly no less?
“I’m-I’m so sorry, genuinely. I was drunk and wasn't thinking and I should've expressed myself in a better way! I'll make it up to you! We can forget I said it or-” he rambles on.
“Did you mean it? Do you still feel the same way?” you stare at him anxiously, waiting for an answer.
“Do I-what?” he stares dubiously “Of course I do! How could I not? I meant every word I swear.” he takes your hands in his. This is all happening in a corner booth of a run-down diner, by the way. How romantic.
“Can I kiss you now?” he says, sincerely. Remus Lupin wants to kiss you, what a dream.
“Mhm,” you nod leaning over the table already. He laughs, shaking his head, then winces as his headache is coming back. You chuckle a little, it’s endearing in some odd way. He meets you halfway, putting a hand on your cheek and rubbing small circles with his thumb. His lips meet yours softly, just barely brushing over yours before you take the notion to deepen it. He smiles into the kiss, grabbing your face with both hands now. You break away after a while, smiling and on the verge of giggling like a schoolgirl.
“I think I didn't do it right,” he says tucking hair behind your ear "Maybe I'm still a little bit drunk," a knowing smirk ghosted his mouth.
“Oh yeah?” you question him.
“Yeah,” he nods “Can I try again?” a kiss “and again?” another “and again?” one last for good measure.
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