#that thing that kept me going meant fucking nothing to anybody else

[teencopandthesourwolf]

He freezes. Doesn't know what the hell else to do. 

He can't picture it: Derek can't remember the last time somebody put their arms around him. 

Was it Laura?

Of course it was Laura. How could he forget that? Derek has gotten pretty good at blocking things out—a little too good, it seems.

She didn't tell him she was going before she left New York. Didn't say a fucking word, just vanished. Derek had woken up one morning and she was gone. She'd known without doubt that Derek would only follow her if she had said a single word to him.

Nobody ever granted Derek’s wishes, no matter who he prayed to. The desperate pleas where he asked to go back and get a chance to fix things, they all went unheard.

Laura left to go back to the place they both wished still existed just as it had; a place they were wanted alive, not dead. It wasn't fair that it was the very same place they would be hunted down if they did return, like the rabid animals the Argent's presumed they were.

Leaving the way they did meant they hadn't gotten the chance to see if anything was left at the house. They couldn't mark graves, or grieve properly. 

That same place also happened to be the place they'd been born, the place they'd grown up and called home.

Derek had never wanted Laura to face all of that alone.

The burnt down house. The nothing where there was once everything.

The thought still haunts him. One of so fucking many. 

Beacon Hills is home—but it's the home Derek had helped raze to the ground with his selfishness and stupidity. Everything he and Laura had ever known, everyone they'd ever loved, it was all gone, now. Derek had taken those things away from his sister and hadn't even had the guts to tell her. Tell Laura they were all gone because of him, tell her that everything that had happened to their family, to them, was all his fault.

In the aftermath of the fire Laura hugged Derek, and had kept hugging him, over and over in those weeks and months and years that followed. She would pull him into her arms hold him tight, whenever she could sense it was all getting to be too much for him again.

Alpha.

Big sister.

But Laura only knew about some of the reasons why it sometimes felt like too much effort for Derek to keep on breathing.

He never told her about Kate.

And Derek, the fucking coward, he'd allowed Laura to hold him, feeling the flames of shame on his cheeks every time, hot as those that took the lives of his parents. His family. His pack. 

Now, he remembers that last time. 

“I'm going out.” 

Laura stood up, walked around the two mismatched armchairs and stopped him by throwing both her arms around his neck, pulling him into her and hugging him, scenting him. 

It always took him a moment to respond these days, but Derek hugged her back. 

“What's this for?”

“You. Because I know whomever's bed you end up in tonight, you won't be asking for one of these.”

Oh, fuck no. Derek couldn't handle that. Did she think he was out sleeping with people? Never again, not after…

He pushed his sister off him, gently; a stark contrast to the harsh words that followed. 

“Don't fucking coddle me. And fuck you, Laura—I don't sleep in anybody's fucking bed but my own.” A single mattress on the floor of the lounge of their shitty one bedroom apartment. Derek had so many shameful memories, and crawling into his sister's bed every night for the first year after the fire was one of them. “Just—leave me alone.”

Laura was the one—the only—person Derek had left in the entire world, yet his guilt was constantly pushing her away. 

“Then where do you go to all these nights, little brother? You might not be clinging to me anymore, night after night, nightmare after nightmare, but you're so rarely in your own bed in the mornings.” She hadn't meant it as a dig. She was his sister and she loved him.

Maybe she thought he was making progress? Seeing people. Moving on.

Derek spent his nights waiting outside of dive bars, hanging around in back alleys and dark places, desperately trying to find scumbags he could taunt who were big enough and hard enough to at least attempt to kick the living shit out of him.

Derek hated being a werewolf, now. He wanted to get hurt and stay hurt.

“Just—out.”

Then Derek turned his back on Laura, leaving her to stand there and watch him walk away as he left her to go out looking for a fight, without looking back. 

That was the last time somebody put their arms around Derek—and the last time he saw his sister alive.

It was two years ago. Derek doesn’t think he has taken a full breath, since. 

Now here he is, standing in his big stupid loft that he bought for his betas—yet another pack he managed to destroy—having given away more than he should, with skinny yet strong arms wrapping themselves as far around his shoulders as they can reach. 

Stiles.

“You don't have to hug back. But you can, if you want to. I won't tell,” the kid jokes. It's his way to connect, his connection to the world. A coping mechanism, Derek thinks.

He knows all about those.

“I…” he doesn't have the first fucking clue of how to handle this. Or how to admit he needs it—to himself, let alone somebody else. He doesn't know how to admit that he wants it. 

But this is Stiles. The one person in Derek's life who seems, for some unfathomable reason, to give a fuck about Derek. To care about him.

Slowly, very slowly, Derek lifts an arm and awkwardly rests a hand on Stiles's upper back, feels the muscles jump slightly under the kid's baggy clothes as he tentatively spreads his fingers and finds the back of Stiles's neck. 

Stiles's voice hitches just a touch as he says, “These can be on tap, you know. If you want them. Stilinski hugs are the best hugs, dude. Believe.”

And Derek finds he does believe. For the first time in forever, Derek believes there could be something good in his life again.

More confidently, now, he brings his other arm up to wrap around Stiles's waist and hugs Stiles tighter, properly, and allows himself to be hugged back.

Derek wonders how he has gone so long without this kind of closeness. Lived without this kindness.

He decides to let the 'dude' pass. Because maybe—maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all, to be somebody's dude? 

Stiles's dude.

It's a fucking ridiculous moniker and yet Derek suddenly couldn't care less. 

“I think I'd like that,” he whispers into the forbidden place where Stiles's jaw meets long, pale neck. "Dude."

Derek can feel Stiles's smile as the kid squeezes him harder. And, ironically, Derek feels as if he can breathe again. 

.

for @greyhavenisback bc i want to hug you in person and can't <3 (unedited, forgive me!)

#sterek #sterek ficlet #sterek fic #sterek oneshot #POV derek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #derek x stiles #stiles x derek #m/m #queer fic #teen wolf #teen wolf fic #sterek fanfic #sterek fanfiction #teen wolf fanfic #teen wolf fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #laura hale #derek and laura #hale pack feels #angst #hurt/comfort #hugs #derek hale deserves nice things #stiles stilinski is a nice thing #tcats writes #teencopandthesourwolf

[tendertenebrosity]

Prev 1, 2

I hadn’t gotten many other visitors, while I lay recuperating in the infirmary.

Or any.

I lay there for hours, nothing much to occupy my mind except my failures and my resentment. A bitter black tide lapped through me, and I moodily let it sweep me back and forth. I was despised, disfigured, left here to hurt alone, and it was all so unfair I wanted to scream. I’d kept my oaths. I had served gladly, with all my heart, and this was my reward? This?

I’d failed, though. Made a mistake somewhere. This couldn’t be right; I had fucked up somewhere to end up in this position. If only I’d… I don’t know. Maybe if I’d handled the fight differently, called for help? At least then somebody else might have seen something. Made it so it wasn’t just my word against a weight of evidence and common sense.

My word counted for nothing. Apparently. Maybe somebody else’s would have meant more.

Or maybe, I thought, turning the lucky stone over and over in my fingers, somebody else would have just died. Maybe that would be what would happen the next time - whoever was on duty would be cut down by the black shadowy creatures that they might or might not be able to see.

Wouldn’t be my problem, I thought darkly. I’d be… I still hadn’t decided where I was going to go. Would anybody in this city hire me for anything? Should I change my name? Unfortunately, I had looked kind of distinctive even before this - being ‘the redhead’ was bad enough, and I doubted ‘the redhead with the scarred face, you know, the one who did those murders’ would be an improvement. I should leave the capital entirely.

When the palace was overrun with horror creatures, would they think back to me? Like, ‘oh, we guess Keldin was right after all, damn, argh argh ughh’.

Would my Prince think of me? Before he died?

I found my thoughts turning to my closest friend in the Royal Guard, Resina. At least, I’d thought she was my friend up until the trial. Maybe she still was, I hadn’t sorted out my feelings on that yet. She hadn’t come to see me here, anyway.

The second night I’d spent with Raiden, she’d caught me tiptoing out of his room in the grey dawn. It had been an inn room, a diplomatic trip - her and I assigned to the Prince’s guard detail together. I was trying to be discreet, since Raiden hadn’t said what he wanted yet, and - well, maybe that was always doomed to failure because I was me.

I’d frozen, shirt thrown over one shoulder and boots in my hand, and given her a sheepish grin. Well. Maybe equal parts sheepish and smug.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Keldin,” she had said, with the grim air of somebody giving advice they knew was going to be ignored. I was used to getting that tone of voice from people.

I had hopped, trying to pull my boots on as I followed her down the inn’s stairs.

“Well, his highness didn’t have any complaints,” I said, low under my breath, with an exaggerated sultry look.

She sighed. “Try to think further than a week or two in advance,” she said. “I’m not saying do or not do anything, I’m just saying think. All right? Things could get messy.”

“Oh, I intend there to be a certain amount of mess, sure - ”

“Keldin.”

I laughed. Pulled my shirt on and did the final buttons up just as we entered the inn’s common room, which was sleepy and half full of Palace staff getting an early start. We’d need to stop talking about this before we got the the table where the other two people on our shift were.

“Look, just be careful,” she murmured. “If you get your heart broken, you can cry on my shoulder, and if your career goes down the drain, I’ll help you find a new job. But I’m going to be really fucking sarcastic while I do it.”

“A new job? Whoa, lighten up, I’m not that bad in…” I broke off at another severely unimpressed look from her. The table was approaching. “Look, thanks, Rez, but I’ve got it handled, all right? I’m a big boy and I can look out for myself. Besides,” I added, quickly, “Prince Raiden would never do anything wrong or unfair, so I’m not worried!”

Now, as I lay with my charm clutched in my fist and my neck getting really goddamn tired of lying on my front, I wondered if she’d known even then. Known that soon my whole heart would belong to the prince, completely and irrevocably. My heart, my mind, my body, all of it was his and there was nothing I could do about it.

Even if, apparently, he viewed me as… a dalliance.

I turned his words over and over in my head. Like itching at my stitches, which the healer had already warned me against doing several times. Raidan’s voice echoed in my head. That’s an inappropriate insinuation. You presume too much. You were exactly what I needed, for a while. You’ve always been devoted. You deserve that much from me.

The distance and chill of ‘my sincerest good wishes’ wormed its way into my heart like a splinter.

I was such an idiot. What had I thought? That he felt the same level of emotion I did, that his heart was mine? That I was all bound up in his insides the way he was in mine? I think I had known he didn’t.

But, we’d been together for well over a year now. He’d never taken anybody else into his bed, that I knew. He had kissed me with fond possessiveness, been happy for his household and his friends to know about me, given me gifts - given me fond nicknames - I’d thought - I’d thought -

I assumed that Resina’s offer of a shoulder and sarcasm was no longer on the table.

I was abruptly both impatient and kind of disgusted with myself. A threat to the royal family I’d sworn my whole life to was lurking in these halls as I lay here, and all I could think about was my own broken heart? What, did I think Raidan’s nonexistent love for me changed anything about my duty?

I held the stone and let my eyes wander around what parts of the room I could see. Nothing strange. No idea if my leg wound would still look weird and gross; I couldn’t twist far enough to see. But if more of those things were around, would I be able to see them? When other people couldn’t?

What if the plan was never to overrun the palace and kill people, but to… infiltrate?

Maybe if Raidan had taken the stupid fucking thing like I’d begged him to, I would have been able to leave. Not satisfied, but at least knowing that I’d given him all the protection I could.

He hadn’t taken it. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want me.

“Well, tough, your highness,” I said aloud, my voice very loud in the empty room. “I’m not going anywhere.”

#Keldin #fantasy whump #flashback #backstory #post-whipping #this is a glimpse of Kel's real personality when he's not having the most traumatic week of his life

[queenscholar]

nothing without you

tw cw // smut , nsfw , eating out (fem! receiving) , canon x oc content

For someone with the special skill of falling asleep in 3 seconds, Leona Kingscholar found himself couldn’t sleep at all tonight. Something was missing and he knew what it was exactly. This empty feeling on his arm belonged to the warmth of Patricia’s Venenum body. Even his ego couldn’t deny it any longer, he belonged to her which was made all too clear since the start but even his deniability couldn’t keep up anymore. Pretending he didn’t need anybody, or her, was exhausting. Because in the end indeed, he needed her, or else his world would turn dark, collapsing in an instant.

He didn’t want, he didn’t need this unnecessary feeling of losing Patricia Venenum to someone else that kept bugging his consciousness even to the realm of the unconscious. Like his life wasn’t chaotic enough, yet now they chose to bug him even in dreams? The only place he could escape to? Although surely, his reality would be sweeter if she was his officially, so no one could ever touch her, again besides him.

At this point he would take back his pride in a heartbeat, he was desperate enough to admit she was what he bleed. He couldn’t let her in someone else's arms, he couldn’t have her walking out on him like anybody else. If they gave up on him, fine! But Patricia? No, never, not in his wildest dream.

He’d bend his principal, he’d learn to love her the way she needed, the way she wanted him to, as long as he became her only one. Yet, reality still remained bitter. Because the suckiest thing was, the reason why Patricia Venenum didn’t want to fully accept him was the one thing he couldn’t change, the circumstances of his status at birth, a freaking royal.

This wasn't pain, this was loss and Leona Kingscholar knew it better than anyone the pain of rejection. Being the unfavored second prince. But after experiencing both, he loathed it more, the feeling of losing Patricia Venenum to somebody else. Which reminds him where was she anyway tonight?

He had a feeling of her exact location tonight, though he didn’t want to accept it. There was a part of him that hoped she was safely tucked behind the blanket of her dorm room. A scowl appeared on his face, bracing for reality to hit him when he reached for his smartphone. He gritted his teeth, his guts were right. Patricia was at Cater's party right now as he saw on his Magicam, he got invited but declined. She probably accepted in exchange for a body double at Vargas’ flight lesson.

Leona clicked his tongue, he was pissed there wasn’t a question in that. As he searched for her contact, he realized the one thing he tried so hard to conceal. The reason for these past recurring nights like this to happen, him searching desperately for her location, if she was with someone else, was because he couldn’t stand this empty feeling. He couldn’t stand to be with himself any longer, without her as a constant reminder yeah he got one more purpose to live. The bitter realization was setting in and the truth was, Leona Kingscholar had become nothing without Patricia Venenum.

As he dialed her number, he grumbled for her to pick up her phone fast. Mere seconds later, his wish came true, she picked it up but not without a protest from the other side.

“What is it now, Leona? You have been calling me every night now!” Patricia grumbled, Leona could hear Cater’s voice in the background, irritating him further.

“If I die tonight, would you regret it?” The air was immediately frozen in an instant. Leona heard her breath hitch, and his mission at grabbing her attention succeed.

“What the fuck Leona? Don’t you dare do anything until I go there!” Patricia screamed before hanging up the call. Leona was satisfied with the answer, that meant she cared for him more than anybody else, right? To drop everything for him, meant he was somewhat her priority. Leona smirked, she was coming. Now, all we left to do was wait.

“1, 2, 3…”

Leona counted, and right on cue, a door was slammed open in front of his eyes. Revealing a very messy-haired Patricia in her heels, it seemed like she was rushing down to get here. This sight was enough to satiate him, for now.

“You just lay in bed like usual, what the fuck I run here for nothing?!” Patricia shouted, obviously enraged by Leona’s action and furthermore to him, who casually just laid on his bed like he didn’t say something so gratifying mere minutes ago.

“Hey, you are the one who told me to do nothing.” Leona retorted back with a smirk. He wasn’t wrong, but that didn’t stop Patricia from beating him up to a pulp with his other pillow.

“Ow, what was that for?!” Leona protested while Patricia was still continuously hitting him with his pillow.

“That is for wasting my time! I don’t care anymore, if you want to die then just die!” That obviously was a tantrum and she didn’t mean it, but it felt like a jab to Leona’s heart. As she was done, she turned her heel to walk out on him and he stopped her. His tail wrapped around one of her legs while his hand grabbed one of her arms.

“Don’t go, please…” For Leona Kingscholar to be begging, was humiliating. But he couldn’t have her walking out on him, not after she said those words she clearly didn’t mean. He needed the reassurance that she didn’t mean it.

She stopped for a moment, unmoving. And Leona did the only thing he knew to do to make her stay until the morning at least. He stood up, his lips nipped her neck, biting and leaving a trail of hickies on her shoulders while his fingers fumbled with the strap of her dress.

“Fine, do what you want. But I’m not in the mood tonight and my feet are killing me running in these heels, so you gotta do all of the work.” Patricia said, sighing in defeat. She did want to inquire about him more, but knowing the lion she knew it wouldn’t bode well. So, she opted to ask for it the next day, letting him have his way tonight. Leona did feel a pang of guilt, knowing he made her feel hurt. Though he knew how to make up for it precisely.

In one move, he swiftly swooped her up in his arms before gently placing her in his bed contrasted with what he did in those rough days in the past. He slowly took off her shoes, so that she didn’t feel any pain. He kissed her feet, where the red marks were visible. That was an apology, for making her run all the way here. His kisses slowly made their way up as he removed one by one piece of her clothing, from her thigh to her breast until she was bare naked in front of him. It made her squirm, but she couldn’t say her body didn’t enjoy it.

For the final touch, he gently cupped her face, before giving her a slow but burning passionate kiss that left her breathless for minutes. His tongue engaged her in a devil dance, swirling inside her cave before leaving her lips until she was red in need of air. He would make sure she was too entranced by him to leave. No, actually it was him who couldn’t function if she left, Leona was doing himself a favor. Without her love, without her touch, he would be driven mad because that was all he had in this bleak world.

While Patricia was left panting from the kiss, Leona went down on her body until he arrived at her opening down there. His lips gave open-mouthed kisses to her clit, licking away all her precums. Patricia tried so hard to hide her moans by biting her lips until it was bleeding, not wanting to be found out by his other dorm members. Leona knew it by the squirming of her body, he pinched her hips making her yelp out an “Ah!” A loud moan escaped past her lips.

“Don’t hold back, they knew better than to mention something. I will kill them if I hear even just a thing.” Patricia was still hesitant to comply but Leona was relentless in his pursuit. Focusing on her pleasure, she was the center of his attention tonight. His tongue delved in, giving a lick to every spot of her walls, pressing deeper as far as his tongue could reach, making the coil in her stomach flare until she couldn’t resist it anymore. Giving in to his wanton, letting out shameful moans she couldn’t hold back anymore.

He was determined to make her cum at least three times with his own tongue. And boy, did he do it. His tongue hit her g-spot numerous times, repeatedly until she couldn’t take it anymore and let herself be undone on his mouth as her legs wrapped themselves around his neck. While his tongue was hugged tightly by her walls as she cum, he still didn’t stop, he swallowed some of it while licking every inch of her walls clean for her to be ready for the next one. He did it all so he could hear Patricia panting the name “Leona, Leona!” At top of her lungs, crying because he made her a mess on his bed like right now, that was the only thing that matters to him at the moment.

Patricia was on the brink of passing out, she thought this was the end after the brutal oral session he gave her. After three times coming undone, all she wanted to do was rest in peace for a moment, her legs on Leona’s neck already gave out, turning into a numb jelly that she couldn’t feel anymore. But she was wrong, that was indeed Leona’s purpose for it. So that her numb legs wouldn’t feel any pain when he thrust inside of her roughly.

Leona could feel the pulsating of his penis getting dangerously close to cum and his own heartbeat yelling for him to get to the main course when seeing Patricia be a freaking mess on his bed.

“We aren’t done yet?!” Patricia gasped when he saw Leona wrap her numb legs gently to his waist. Then she saw his big boner standing up and knew this was going to be a long night and she couldn’t get out not even if she wanted to.

“Are you ready?” Leona asked, she only nod, giving him the okay. He then slammed inside, fully going in just in one go. And in that thrust, he came inside all over her by the feeling of tightness around her walls he had been yearning for all night long, but he didn’t stop there, in the middle of his high he still kept going, not taking any break until she came again, creaming all over his dick. He was insane, he was like a madman chasing a sole goal and he wouldn’t stop until he got it. Leona Kingscholar couldn’t get enough of this, Patricia’s Venenum cries and touches. He was going insane, for her and her only.

As he continued his never stopping thrust in and out of her tight but welcoming walls, hitting her to the deep far places he had reached before. Leona knew what his mistakes were, he hesitated the first time he felt it, he let her wander, roaming too long in the arms of other guys. That is what he was guilty of, he shouldn't have let her. So he was going to make up for it tonight by showing her his endless love for her until she passed out from overstimulation and he collapsed on top of her while burying himself deep in her hilt until the morning came.

#leopat🦁🖋 #leona kingscholar #twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland oc #twst oc #leopat writing #leona kingscholar smut #leopat smut #twst.tag

[satans-helper]

Smother the Flame in Your Heart - Part IV

Read on Ao3

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Sam Kiszka

Word Count: ~2600

Warnings: more vampire stuff <3

---

Normally, Danny might find himself perturbed by the sound of the fluorescent lights overhead buzzing and flickering. The light might be too harsh and white, especially with the cavernous darkness outside the windows; the night around him always felt endless but, for once, Danny didn’t mind that either. Sam’s voice, his face, the way he talked so fluidly with his hands, the eye contact he kept whenever he took a sip of his drink–all of it made Danny sort of feel floaty and light, like nothing in his life was wrong at all. He didn’t want to go back home and be alone again. He wanted to stay under those bright white lights with Sam forever.

When Danny bit into his cheeseburger, Sam, of course, with him not being able to look away from his date for longer than half a second, noticed the pink juice running down his chin. “I thought you didn’t like animal blood,” he noted, teasingly. He was successful, too–Danny smiled shyly before he dabbed at his mouth with a napkin.

“I’ve always liked my beef rare,” Danny told him. He swiped a french fry through ketchup. “You know how in movies vampires never eat normal food? I’m so glad that’s not me. Still got fucked over but, shit, at least I can still eat french fries.”

Sam chuckled. He liked seeing Danny this way–relaxed. This was how it was always supposed to be, he felt, how Danny was always supposed to be. “You never told me one thing though–how does someone actually transform? You get bitten, okay, but something else has to happen.”

“Yeah, true. I don’t really know though,” Danny told him. “I don’t know if it’s something inside of the bite or maybe it’s just random. Like, more bad luck?” He shook his head, lifting the burger in his hands. “I honestly have no clue.”

“You bit me once and nothing happened,” Sam reminded him, twirling the straw in his ice water. “So maybe you’re in the clear in terms of…being a carrier or whatever you wanna call it.” 

“I hope so. I hope nothing’s ever happened to–” Danny stopped, abrupt onset of shame smacking him in the face again. But then he thought that he really could trust Sam, who’d never once shown or voiced any judgment, who looked at him with such unwavering reverence and affection. “I hope nothing’s ever happened to anyone else I’ve bitten.”

Sam made a point to flutter his eyelashes briefly as he rested his fist under his chin. “Am I the best you’ve ever had?” 

The question made Danny serious. “Yeah, you are,” he said, and just saying it made him feel like he could still taste Sam, not just taste fried and grilled food. His response made Sam blush and just the sight of his skin turning pink made Danny’s mouth water. “But it’s not just how you taste. I need you to know that. You’re the best because you’re you.” 

Sam smiled, shaking his head, leaning forward with his elbows on the table. “I can’t believe we never met before, man. Don’t you feel that connection? It’s like it’s meant to be.” He’d never been one to fiercely subscribe to the idea of fate and destiny but he couldn’t deny that meeting Danny felt profoundly cosmic. 

“Yeah, I feel it, too,” Danny said. He really did feel it–this intrinsic, steadfast tether between them. Like they’d known each other for years. Like for some reason, they were made to wait to meet but, now that they had, there was nothing that was going to tear them apart. It felt that way, absolutely, but Danny still had to acknowledge that enough anger and resentment–even confusion–could override even the strongest bonds sometimes. 

Sam felt a little shy then, making him look away for real for the first time. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way about anybody–Josh had been right. He’d never been so worked up over a boy but, more than that, over anyone at all. There was a magic about Danny that he couldn’t get over. Inside that heart, even if Danny called himself “diseased,” was a depth of patience and love that tempted Sam for more; in his eyes there was a profound knowing, like Danny constantly knew a hell of a lot more than he said. Like he always had some little secret. Sam wanted to be in on that secret. 

“Tell me something else, Daniel,” Sam started after clearing his throat and taking another drink. “Are you looking for endgame or what?”

Danny sighed, chewing. After he swallowed–and considered the question–he said: “I don’t think so. Not since I became, well. What I am now.” He wanted to say otherwise. If he were a fancy media vampire who could live forever, he’d be hell-bent on spending forever with Sam despite the consequences. But this was real life, where no one was going to write or direct away the consequences to his actions. 

“Who you are,” Sam corrected. “You’re awesome, dude. You’re funny, smart, cool, sexy. All of it.”

Danny smiled, flattered, but he still said, “I can’t completely be myself with anyone though. There’s always something I have to hide.”

“You could be yourself with me. I think you already have been,” Sam reminded him. He extended his leg beneath the table, brushing Danny’s shin with his foot. “Don’t discount that.”

“I’m not.” Danny gave a playful kick back and Sam laughed. “I’m really not. Yeah, I feel this connection with you. We just–”

“We go together,” Sam said when Danny took a few seconds too long to try and finish that sentence. This much he could admit to. 

-

Both of them were resistant to leaving one another. But dawn began to creep over the world–the horizon, as Danny drove eastward into it, became a blazing mixture of warm colors, the sun mirroring their eagerness, their excitement, in its ferocity. Sam wanted to insist that they could hang out all morning, all afternoon, all night all over again–after all, it was Sunday and he had nothing else on the docket. He knew that as soon as Danny was gone, he’d just be wanton for him again. But he also recognized that Danny needed to get his real meal in and probably soon, and this thought was affirmed by Danny seemingly reading Sam’s mind and speaking on it himself.

“You kept me satiated for a while, Sam,” he said, driving the exact speed limit, not a fraction over, and Sam beamed inside, knowing that was on purpose. Danny was in no rush to leave him either. “A long while. Tonight helped too, in its own way. But yeah, I gotta take care of this.” He glanced over for a quick second and Sam caught those glittering eyes. “I’m really sorry you’re upset about that. I think I get it. But I really, really don’t want to mess anything up here and if I do that with you, I will.”

Sam begged to differ but for once he was going to keep his opinion to himself. For now, anyway–that was an argument he wasn’t going to win. In time, however, maybe he would. “It’s all good, Danny,” he assured. “You do what you gotta do. I won’t accept you making yourself suffer.” 

“It’s still suffering,” Danny said, driving even more slowly now that they were on Sam’s street. “It’s all suffering.”

Sam shot across the center console and hooked an arm around Danny’s neck, planting his mouth on his cheek, which made Danny laugh and swerve the car a bit. “No, it’s not.” He dragged his teeth down Danny’s jaw and added, “I’m gonna show you.”

Pulling into the driveway, Danny said, “I’d love that.” 

That little declaration made the breakaway, the prying of himself from Danny’s car and slinking back into his home, a little easier for Sam. 

-

Though he was exhausted and, because of that, feeling even more motivated to take care of himself even as the sun was still slowly rising, Danny had to wait. His weekends were normally spent in so much solitude that, most of the time, he didn’t really mind. He’d distanced himself from old friends; the only people he really spent any time with was family, which was fine. Good, even. They helped. They didn’t know, although his sister in particular seemed to pick up on a change in him after the, well after <i>the</i> change had occurred, but she didn’t ask about it. Somehow it was like she knew it was better not to and Danny found his family to be a comforting presence. But he didn’t feel like he could keep it together with anyone around him after being with Sam and after being increasingly hungry for so long. 

He felt so guilty though whenever he went out because most of the time, he was ending up with women. Women were easier. They were easier to get, easier to go home with or get home; they didn’t fight back as much usually and, when they did, it had even less of an impact than men trying to fight him off. What a piece of trash he was, Danny thought as day dwindled and evening began to settle in, for being so sexist. 

He drove nearly two hours south, fretting the entire time. It never got any easier. Not the feelings behind it, not the emotional experience, but the sickening process of getting what his body needed so badly had certainly become easier. Danny had never been a natural or enticing flirt before–he’d had to learn. He’d become better and better with time. He’d gotten hotter too, not because becoming a vampire boosted him in any way but because of age, because of fitting into his own style more, because of seeing himself how others saw him–beautiful and not at all threatening. Well, he couldn’t agree with the latter, but he did think he was beautiful. Finally. And everyone he picked up was beautiful. It was just his way.

Case in point, the girl Danny zeroed in on as his next target. Victim. Drink. Whatever. Not his usual type with her blonde hair and light eyes, but still pretty–on the taller side but somewhat delicate, and looking as though she was alone. That was a rare find. It was much more challenging to steal someone away from their friend or group, but someone who was trying to be bold with a night out at the bar alone was nearly effortless to swoop in on. The first thing Danny had to do each time was find something to break the ice like any normal person would–a piece of clothing or jewelry or bag he could compliment, or even remarking on someone’s drink. Or just inserting himself because he was also there alone, which is the strategy he took with this pretty blonde. 

“Hey,” he said, knowing his soft voice always worked to his advantage. Non-threatening. Inviting. He gestured to the bar stool next to her with his drink in hand–there was no purse or bag on top of it, so there was a good chance she wasn’t waiting for anyone either. “You mind if I sit here?”

“No, go ahead,” she said, instinctive politeness apparent in her words. She smiled a little, not making direct eye contact, and Danny knew he was already winning. He wasn’t always everyone’s type even with being a better flirt–this was shaping up to be a successful night, albeit a tumultuous one. Her scent didn’t even compare to Sam’s but that was a good thing. It would help him be even more in control, even if his hunger returned a little sooner after the fact. 

“Thanks. What are you drinking?” Danny asked, genuinely curious. He had no idea what that neon blue cocktail topped with a bright red cherry could be. 

“It’s called an electric kool-aid,” she told him, extending the glass. “Wanna try it?” 

“Sure, thanks.” Danny took it and sipped through the same straw, eyebrows shooting up at the taste. “So sweet,” he remarked, passing it back. “But so strong at the same time. What’s in that thing?”

The girl laughed a little, a sweet sound. “It’s like a Long Island but blue.”

Danny stared at it, incredulous and feeling out of the loop with his boring tap beer. “That’s diabolical,” he said while knowing the strength of that cocktail would also work to advantage. 

More talking, more drinking, more gentle flirting–everything led Danny to the girl’s apartment which was, thankfully, free of roommates. Each step made his heart both run wild, pound hard up into his throat, but also feel as though the muscle was sinking deep inside himself. He kept it at bay while they both sank down onto the couch, the lighting dim and warm, the girl tipsy and interested enough to make the first move, and Danny leaned into the touch and the kiss. He always enjoyed this part–it was fun. It was normal. To explore another person, to have the wanting reciprocated, but it wasn’t long before the contact became almost entirely overwhelming. 

She was on top, straddling his thighs, holding his face while they kissed; Danny kept his hands on her sides tentatively. Too soon would be too much. There was always a strategy. It was always too difficult with the other person on top anyway so, after more of all of it, Danny flipped her to the side and climbed over. The confined space of the couch and how they both had to maneuver their limbs brought him back to his time with Sam in the car and he froze for a second, wondering why this unknowing girl was underneath him and <i>not</i> Sam. 

But this stranger, who Danny really wanted to forget the name of so he could feel less guilty, went right along with his touches and kept holding him and kissing him. The most difficult part of the whole process, ultimately, was the pivotal moment. The bite, the sucking, the consuming. The pivotal moment was about to happen–his teeth were on her neck, the little canine points so eager to puncture.

What happened after was often a blur even for Danny, but he knew it was even more of a blur for those he hurt. He couldn’t make people forget but he’d learned that the blood loss, shock and terror had a habit of making it difficult for people to remember things clearly. It was so bizarre that people undoubtedly questioned the whole experience. Someday, he thought, they’d talk long and often enough about the experiences that the memories would become more visceral and he’d have to worry even more about getting a bounty placed on his head. 

The drive back home was miserable and long, the highway seeming to be an endless and punitive stretch of flat darkness. It didn’t matter how satiated Danny felt on a physical level; his mind was made to be tormented yet again. He wondered every single time if it would ever get any easier that way or if he would always feel disgusting and guilty. Sure, he thought, there were worse things in the world. He wasn’t killing anyone. But taking away a person’s autonomy and choice seemed just as bad. Hurting someone and making someone so afraid was hard to reconcile with in addition to his own constant struggle of feeling out of control. Like his own choice and autonomy had been taken away forever. 

He chose Sam, though. Danny knew that already, and he felt like he was driving back through the darkness just to see him again.

---

Tagging: @sanguinebats @mackalah  @sparrowofrhiannon  @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf  @clairesjointshurt  @bizzielisteningtogreta

If you'd like to be tagged in any of my fics you can go here or DM me :)

#greta van fleet #gvf #sam kiszka #sam gvf #danny wagner #danny gvf #danny wagner x sam kiszka #jake kiszka #jake gvf #josh kiszka #josh gvf #gvf fan fiction #sanny #stfyh

[justonemorechapternicercy]

Smelling pheromones took time to get used to. Knowing how someone felt from just one sniff was quite scary at first, especially when he didn't quite know which smell meant which emotion, but after a few months he got used to it.

Still, some things were just not meant to be known by somebody else. One of these was arousal.

It didn't exactly have a distinct smell, but it was an intense concentration of the person's natural scent that lingered down Nico's throat. It was very uncomfortable when he first realized what that smell meant after accidentally catching Jason and Leo during heavy petting. (After that, he stayed far, far away from Jason's cabin, even when it was game nights. Jason thought he was ridiculous, but he didn't care - it was just too traumatic.)

So, the first time he smelled it on Percy, it was like a punch in the gut. Usually, Percy was chill, there was never a hint of arousal coming from then, even when he was always surrounded by people vying for his attention. Ever since Nico was turned into a werewolf, there was nothing that would have led him to believe Percy was attracted to somebody, that was the only reason he could stay good friends with her.

But smelling arousal on her? Around the campfire that was full of Percy simps? It was, quite honestly, awful.

He couldn't concentrate on anything other than that fact that Percy was aroused.

Fuck.

Nico looked around the fire, paying closer attention to those who were closer to Percy, lingering in the ones he thought might have drawn Percy's interest.

After careful consideration, he narrowed it down to three - well, two, because even if Connor and Travis weren't twins, they were almost one and the same -, all tall, sons of Hermes with a mischievous grin on their faces.

Fuck.

Of course they are the type of men that would grab Percy Jackson's attention. Cheeky, but kind, handsome and strong. (Sons of Hermes. Of course.)

Nico kept an eye on them. He was trying not to, but… he couldn't help it. Even if Percy didn't pay special attention to any of them, zir arousal lingered, and Nico was getting angrier, moodier.

"Are you okay? Do you want to go to a less crowded place?" Percy asked, their concern clear in zir voice, clearer in his scent.

They've been sitting next to each other, silently watching the other demigods, neither of them in the mood to talk. Nico glanced at the older demigod, and shook his head.

"No, it's okay," he sighed, bracing himself to continue wallowing in sadness. There was nothing he could do to avoid Percy falling for somebody else, was there?

He sighed again, drumming his fingers against his tights, feeling restless. "Hey… Can I ask you about something?" He asked hesitantly.

"Sure," Percy said immediately, but Nico couldn't bring himself to continue. It seemed… invasive. Sure, they were friends, but not the type who talked about emotions. Yet…

"About Annabeth… " Percy automatically turned zir head, but Nico wasn't finished. "...and Rachel. And Luke."

"What?" Percy snapped her head back, a sharp smell of hurt hitting Nico in his face.

"I'm sorry. I just meant… Since you broke up with Annabeth, you didn't have anybody," Nico stammered.

"I… uh…" Percy flushed. "There's been somebody I started to notice, but it seems they are not into me, so…" he mumbled, eyes avoiding Nico's.

"Oh," said Nico awkwardly. He glanced at the Stolls who were obviously trying to make Percy notice them, and frowned. Something didn't add up. He was so distracted by the Stolls and his confusion that it took more than he'd want to admit to realize that a faint scent of arousal was coming from Percy again.

He glanced back at the child of Poseidon, catching her looking away from him. Not from the Stolls, not from the other son of Hermes, not from anybody else - from him.

"Percy?" He asked, confused. The other demigod's eyes met with his. Ears and cheeks getting redder and redder the longer they stared at each other, and Nico felt like he was hit by a train.

Oh.

Hesitantly, he leaned closer, and Percy's eyes immediately dropped to his lips, just to dart away as soon as he realized Nico caught on.

Oh.

A satisfied smile stretched on Nico's face. He stretched, sitting up straight, showing off his muscles, and when he opened his eyes, he catched Percy's appreciating, admiring looks.

"You know what?" The werewolf asked suddenly. "I changed my mind, let's go somewhere else!"

#percy jackson #nico di angelo #nicercy #percico #werewolf nico #non binary percy #pjo ficlet #pjo

[stickthisbig]

Look. Okay. So. We hate it when shit works, right? It fuckin sucks that taking a walk or cleaning or whatever helps, because we've only been told to do those things by people operating in bad faith.

But I am a neurodiverse person with memory issues and I am telling you you need to try a to-do list. This is what mine looks like:

(this is cleaned up to take out identifying information, etc)

I think a thing that a lot of l people are not explained when it comes to things like planners and lists is that this is a golden opportunity to outsource brain work that you're bad at. I have memory problems and focus issues. All the bullshit at work I have to juggle? Not my job to remember it; that's what the list is for.

What were you gonna do next? List.

Boss asks what you've done today? List.

Turned away for two minutes and now you don't even remember what fuckin industry you work in? List.

My job can be very hectic and in one day I'm doing work with four different programs. I regularly get assigned work that has to be done immediately. That is too much to expect my brain to deal with. A to-do list is an extremely simple tool that does an incredible amount of work with a small amount of effort from you. Invest in your well-being; externalize a mundane but difficult part of life.

Also checking things off is incredibly satisfying. Sometimes I write shit down for the seratonin.

To-do lists catch a lot of flak because they seem like normie bullshit for people who are unpleasantly motivated, but try it out, you may be surprised!

I also have some tips for efficiency that I will put under the jump:

Choose a place the notepad always goes. If you work in more than one place, get a second notepad for the other place. Holy shit you'll fuck yourself if you get in the habit and then convince yourself you can't start without it.

Get a notepad. Doesn't matter what it is, but it is CRUCIAL that you not use it for anything else. It needs to be ONLY for your to-do list. These guys were $1.50 at Michaels and I bought loads of them.

Scribble down literally anything. I write down projects I'll be working on for 6 months and also to water my plants. This list is cleaned up bc it had some identifying information on it, but normally I just scrawl whatever makes sense. It's your space for only you and not anybody else; nobody else is allowed to use it.

Set ground rules. What can you put other than the list? I doodle on mine and occasionally make short notes regarding tasks from the list. Nothing else is allowed. I don't usually list things from my personal life; those tasks are kept on my phone.

Decide on your markings. Mine are pretty simple: / if I've finished, X if it's cancelled, ? if it's in doubt. There are much more complicated systems but I never could keep up with them. Once it's marked, it's out of my hands; for projects spanning multiple days, once I've gotten as far as I meant, I mark it off.

Don't cross things out! It seems good now but it is a bad idea! It makes it harder for you to see what you have accomplished. You want to victoriously slash your pen across the page, but still see that you got shit done.

That's largely it? Some people save their lists from previous days or set aside a specific time to move their undone tasks over. It's totally fine not to finish something; it just goes on the next page.

Some people prioritize tasks; I don't, because in my job, it doesn't have to get done in order, it just has to get done. It actually helps me unprioritize my tasks so I don't get hung up on the biggest ones. I don't have to go "I must do this now or forget forever," because I've outsourced that responsibility. Instead I can go "I don't have time to get anything started, I want to not be at my desk, let me do this item here that takes 5 minutes."

#efficiency #to do how to

[myriad-ofmuses]

Deficiente. You shoulda just fuckin' left.

Down went another shot of iced amaretto, the singular ice cube clacking against the bottom when the shot was placed back down, shuddering from the somewhat bitter almond tang that came in strong, but the numbing warmth was welcomed.

He sighed when his little one started fussing again, arm pulling her up to cradle against his chest, thankful she'd mostly expended her wailing for the time being, but he was desperate for her to actually sleep.

His sockets ached, he'd been up with her all night while she cried, knowing it was pointless to try to soothe her when it was her fear of the dark that kept her awake, but still trying all the same.

"M'sorry, my little bambina. But we can't go back there.. not tonight."

He wasn't drunk enough not to realize that reasoning with a newborn was a fool's errand, but he'd run out of options hours ago. In truth, there was nothing barring them from what had become routine, other than his own reluctance.

Chances were he wouldn't be there. But fuck.. was he absolutely not prepared to risk it. He couldn't handle another confrontation like that. Especially not with Mia in the mix.

He was still kicking himself for getting her involved. The fucker was never supposed to find out about her.. he'd been managing that for months.. what in the angels had gotten into him?

Why, just why.. had he been worried?

He'd tried to convince himself that it was just fear that Mia had been sensed. But that.. wasn't the whole story, and he couldn't fool even his currently-tipsy ass into believing it.

After everything that coglione had done.. how, even for a milisecond, had he still cared..?

It still rankled. That he'd been such a goddamn fool in believing any of it had been true.

'You really think I ever actually felt anything? I used you. Plain and fuckin' simple. Got a lot of info out of it, even if it absolutely sickens me how far I had to go for it.'

There had been more, so much more. But that memory in particular still haunted him. That he'd put his family at risk for a fabrication, that he'd fallen, hook, line and sinker, for a Suit's fucking bullshit.

And he was supposed to be taking charge of things one day? Pah.. they were better off grooming Luca.

He blinked when he felt a tiny hand bap his cheek, breaking the tear he hadn't even been aware was rolling down his face. His gaze shifted down to hers, her eyes a reflection of her absent parent's, wide and curious, whereas his were equally blazing, and crazed.

He closed his eyes and leaned down to press his head to her much smaller one, careful of pressure due to her fragility.

Regardless of the deceit she had resulted from, the love he harbored for her was unshakable. He would do everything in his power to protect her.. and if that meant shielding her from Juke? He wouldn't hesitate.

His confidence had been shaken, at the reminder that there were still many challenges to overcome.. because of her mixed heritage. That much was true.. but he wasn't about to let himself be fooled into believing her "father" would ever have her best interests at heart.

He already knew that aside from his own family, he was in this alone. He couldn't trust anybody else, and that went triple for Juke.

Even if the way he'd looked at her.. for a moment.. had seemed almost.. tender.

His mouth twisted, curling more into his protective cradle around her, leaned forward from his slump against the wall of his room, the capped amaretto bottle thunking to the floor in his shift.

No.

Quel sogno era morto e sepolto..

Never again, would he gamble with his daughter's safety.

Never again.. would he trust Juke.

..Never.

#drabble #🔫; Nox

[pesssimistic]

i guess i just need to say all of this so that i can give myself some peace and just let you go. i don’t even know where to start honestly. you will never understand the ways that you’ve hurt me, all the times you made me sad or made me cry. i truly believe that you don’t even care that you’ve hurt me. i thought that you were somebody else, for a long time. i thought you were perfect, and i tried so hard to be the things that you wanted but i was just never enough for you. then i realized i was just asking for things that you just weren’t capable of. you told me you didn’t want anything serious, when you really meant you just didn’t want anything serious with ME. i remember when we first started talking and the way you spoke to me i genuinely thought that you were different than other people and that you wanted me the same way that i wanted you. and i was just blind for a long time and couldn’t see that you showed me a million times that you didn’t even deserve half of me. i remember when you ghosted me on my birthday and just left me sad and embarrassed and never even made up for it. i’m not the type of person who sleeps around or gives attention to just anybody, but i gave myself to you and you treated me like crap. i tried so hard to be good to you, until it took so much out of me and i couldn’t do it anymore. for months i loved you and i knew i needed to get away from you but i just couldn’t pull myself away from you. i knew you only wanted me for sex, but i loved you so much i didn’t even care because hey at least you were talking to me or giving me attention during that time. and when i finally realized that you weren’t good for me, i tried my hardest to leave you alone, i really did. and then i realized maybe it’s better to just be friends than nothing at all and i asked you if you wanted to hangout and eat or literally do anything else and you don’t even have the decency to just say no, you don’t even think me worth a response. just radio silence. which only shows me more that i wasn’t worth anything to you when i wasn’t fucking you. i meant nothing to you. and you’ve already moved on and just tossed me aside like i’m trash. i’m not trash. i never thought that you of all people would make me feel like so many guys before you have made me feel. that i’m worthless if i’m not giving you a piece of myself. that the only thing i’m good for is sex and nothing else. you used to be one of my favorite people. i used to think that you were one of my best friends. i would’ve always been there for you, i always supported you, i always reached out to you. that was my own mistake for thinking that anybody would ever treat me the same way that i treat them. you don’t know how bad i’m hurting because of you. and it’s useless to even tell you that because you’ve shown me a million times that you could give less of a fuck. i was stupid to think that we were ever friends to begin with, because you don’t fuck your friends. you don’t cum inside your friends. you don’t treat your friends with no respect. you don’t treat your friends like you don’t even care if they are dead or alive. i’m embarrassed to think about the time i’ve wasted on you, hoping for a different outcome. and most of all, i hate that there’s still pieces of me that want the best for you and want you to be happy. i hate that there is so much of me that still loves you. i hate that i think of all the history that we have and how long i’ve known you and it still hurts to let you go. it hurts to know that the person i thought that you were never even existed in the first place, i made it up. it hurts me to think about all the good times we have and i try to convince myself that it outweighs all the bad things you’ve done to me or made me feel. it hurts to know you don’t even realize how many times you hurt me because i kept my mouth shut every time because i thought if i opened my mouth you would never want to see me again. it hurts me to think about never seeing you or speaking to you again. it hurts me to love you when i don’t want to.

[rogueforwhat]

That type of crying where you have to inhale for so long, and there’s just no sound. There’s no sound throughout the house, ever anymore. There’s no sound coming from your lungs to make any audible noise. It’s just emptiness. You really did pull one over on me. You really made me think that I mattered. I never ever ever wanted to know things about you to use them against you. But yes, they would come up and I would expressed in trying to talk with you about them and now I just have nothing I have no outlet… You were the only person I ever wanted to tell about my day. Now  I try to have as little as possible fill my day, so I just stay asleep and just keep taking pills to stay that way. If I was just somebody to string along for your ego please I’m begging you for the bottom of my heart don’t ever do this to somebody else. I’ve truly never hurt this bad ever. So I can understand why you refer to yourself as just a ad friend on Facebook but but you were never that. You were never ever that. I explained what was going on with me not as it excuses, but on top of how you said, the most hurtful things that you could about me to try to save your family, I said those things to you because they were the most hurtful things I could think of and I was so messed up in my head. And the thing is, Zack, I’m still never done anything. I did not know that living would hurt so much and it would be devastating every day. I don’t think you understand what you meant to be because I don’t think you ever been to be that much to me. But you became the one person in my life that truly really made me feel like somebody could look at all the broken pieces of me and all the shit that I come with and still think that I’m worth it. But when it came down to it, I was so easy to throw under the bus. All the times that I got a hurt I didn’t do that do you in actually ever going to tell her anything at all. You would say some really truly horrible things about me, and then everything we wanted to talk about… Or everything that I would try to talk to you about Became less and less because it felt like you were feeling like I was imposing on you and I was really just trying to be your friend. I couldn’t apologize until my last breath honest to God. I hope it comes soon… This is it me exaggerating. This is been really not knowing how much longer I can keep waking up and know that I don’t matter ever anymore and that maybe all of it was a lie, maybe do you like you told her I was just some fat bitch that would suck your dick. But there were little intimate friendship moments that I’ve never had with anybody that I had with you in Experiencing that and then having it take it away. It’s honestly I have it. I had death affect be this much. I fucking told you it would be easier if you died. The rate that I’m going I’m scared that it’s gonna be me first, because I can’t handle my thoughts so I try and sleep and then I’m not even functioning  like a humid anymore. I know that I never met and iota of any of this to you, but you turn my entire world, and what I thought of myself into something I can’t even find words for. I don’t know what you did to me, so I don’t know how to fix this.  I just wanna fucking die Zack. This hurts more than me caring how much my death but you hurt my mom… That’s the only thing that’s ever kept me here but I told her the other night that I’m done and that if it happens, it happens but I just can’t keep Learning these lessons where I come to know and love people and then just to have them make fun of me in the worst way ever leave me completely abandoned… I don’t even know how to end this I just don’t wanna be alive anymore. I don’t want to wake up every day with it being another day that I have to live never getting to be your friend. What bothers me even more is I don’t think you ever thought of me as a friend I don’t know I don’t have any clue. I’ll never get any answers I guess I’ll take your girls advice and just go suck dick and pop pills and die. I mean that’s pretty much what you’ve equated my life to at times 💔

[avo-kat]

i’m non-binary.

i realized this last year, when i was 30.

i knew about the term before and even though i am queer, very tolerant and very leftist, i always, silently, thought to myself “ok thats something the kids are doing. i dont get it but good for them.”

i remember struggling with my gender identity a lot in my teens. i thought it was a natural consequence of being born female in our current world.

i was wrong.

what changed?

people started talking about it more and more. it wasnt just “the kids” being non-binary and using those “silly” neo-pronouns, it was people of all ages and all classes talking about being non-binary.

my story is a bit silly, honestly. i discovered a new song and listened to it for hours on end, like many of us do. except, i could not look away from the singer. i kept staring at him. i was feeling something i never felt before.

the man is attractive, but that was not it. i was not attracted to him, not at all.

but there was... longing.

it was a sudden and fierce kind of longing. my soul was screaming and i cried, not knowing whether from joy or pain.

i printed out his pictures and kept staring and staring and staring and not understanding. what was it about him? what was going on with me?

so i braved the stormy waters and researched what it meant to be trans. for if this was not attraction, then it must be linked with gender.

and i searched. and i questioned. i was so very, very afraid. was i trans? did i want to be a man?

just a few months ago i went from bisexual to lesbian, this could not happen! i could not put down my queer love for woman! this could not be happening!

i did not want to be trans. that would be a very scary thing indeed, but i did not stop, i did not turn back. i had to know.

i read stone butch blues by leslie feinberg and i understood.

at the end of the day:

it should not matter.

it does, unfortunately. it matters a whole fucking lot.

i still have to put on a gender that my workplace understands, i still have to present a gender that strangers can accept, i have to wear a gender to protect myself and to live without a great amount of work.

its not easy and it sucks and i do doubt myself. but this is my doubt. not anybody elses. its private, it belongs to me. it sucks that other people look at me and see a cis woman, it sucks that this needs to be thing at all, that we made rules in such a way that most of us have to be one or the other, even though its completely pointless.

my cis ex didnt see me as non-binary, and while i understand, it really sucked.

im tired and a bit sad and i do doubt myself, but im also very much sure and nobody is allowed to doubt me. its mine. not anybody elses.

im non-binary. or maybe im nothing, maybe im both, maybe im ten genders, maybe im one thing one day, maybe another thing the next day. does it matter? it shouldnt.

i just wanna exist in peace. i wanna wear eyeliner and present my hairy legs and not worry about rejection or worse.

i dont want to doubt myself any longer, i wish things would be different, i wish any of this would not be necessary and we all could be who we are, no questions, no doubts, just being ourselves.

[jeonggukieverse]

Hii I would love to request a established relationship jk fic/Drabble in which jk and oc are married and oc is pregnant, she is in a sensitive period and gets tired and angry easily and although jk at first doesn’t seem to understand her but after figuring it out he tried to be there for her, comforts her and all that stuff

I’m not that articulate but I also found these in your promt list and thought it go well with what I’m trying to convey in my own words lol

1. “Why are you yelling at me?”

2. “I didn’t mean it! I swear!”

3. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad”

if u prefer it you can add smut !!

Jjajangmyeon Tuesdays 

Pairing: Jungkook x Female reader

Genre: Husband AU

Warnings: language, over dramatic reader (again), implied smut, Y/N is a little mean :( 

Word count: 1.5k+

Summery: The one thing you look forward to it your husbands famous Jjajangmyeon on a Tuesday evening. But Jungkook will soon come to find out hormones, dissapointment and a hangry wife aren't a a good combo 

A/N: This was just a quick I thought id do while im still feeling creative~ Hope enjoy it 

Also, Fun fact! This is the same pairing as in my Office Buddies story. So in a way, this story is kind of a sequel 

——————————————————————————————-

Not to be dramatic but this was the worst day of your entire life. Nothing can compare to how crappy you feel right now.

There you were in all your pregnant glory sat at a bus stop at 3pm in the pouring rain. You had not only just missed the bus and had to wait 35 minutes for the next one to arrive.

During your wait: three cars had splashed you, the old man next to you had commented that he thought you were just fat before he realised you were pregnant AND you had forgotten to buy the thing you came out for.

But there was one thing keeping you going. There was one tiny spark of light at the end of the tunnel: today was Tuesday.

Now, to anybody else, Tuesday is just a regular degular day but Tuesdays were your favourite days because it was the only day of the week that Jungkook had a half day at work and he would every Tuesday without fail, make you his moms famous Jjajangmyeon for dinner. And we’re not talking ordinary store bought Jjajangmyeon, oh no. This one was homemade with love and tasted as if God herself had hand crafted each and every tiny granule of flavour in that dish. The sauce was to die for and the thought of taking the first bite of those noodles made you want to cry. Plus, baby jeon seemed to like it too. Every Tuesday as you munched down on your favourite meal, baby Jeon kicked around in your tummy like they wanted to break free and eat it for themselves. The thought made you smile. You hoped baby Jeon would like it themselves when they tried it. You hope they liked all of Jungkook’s cooking.

Lately Jungkook had become quite the little chef indeed. Ever since he found out you were pregnant; he’s been so tender and gentle with you. Ensuring you had everything you need, making sure you felt safe and loved. His protectiveness had gotten completely out of hand. Like a few months ago, you went to lunch with your friend without telling him, only to have him call you in the middle of your meal to scold you as if you were a child! It was then that you had to have a firm chat with him. You let him now that even though you were pregnant you were still Y/N and Y/N had a life of her own outside of this baby that she was going to continue to live. You fought for your independence but you forgot that that meant you had to then BE independent. That’s how you got in this predicament. He had wanted to drive you to the store. He offered a million times but, no! You were adamant you could do it on your own. Now look at you. Cold, wet, insulted and swollen. Great.

But you kept your chin up cause you knew there would be Jjajangmyeon waiting for you.

1 hour and a sudden downpour later you trudged yourself up to your driveway resembling a sad wet cat. Shopping bags in hand you felt like you had reached the finish line of some kind of assault course. You chuckled as you placed your hand on the door, proud of your small victory. It was a shit day but you made it and your grand prize of your handsome husband and his famous Jjajangmyeon was waiting for you just on the other side of the door.

You pushed the door open ready to be greeted by the sweet aroma of black bean sauce and freshly cooked noodles but:

Nothing.

You couldn’t smell anything…

Okay, maybe he just has the kitchen door closed?

You walked through to your home past the living room. Your destination was the kitchen. You marched with purpose to see if your theory was correct and it was! The kitchen door was firmly closed.

You breathed a sigh of relief and headed upstairs.

You began to set your plan of action as you walked to your bedroom. You were going run yourself a nice bubble bath before indulging in the delightful meal you knew you were going to annihilate. Then maybe after dinner Jungkook would mind rubbing your feet cause it felt as if you were walking on 2 water balloons. You tried to look down at your feet to inspect the damage but you were met with the sight of this giant belly. God you were huge. You loved and hated being pregnant at the same time. You loved interacting with baby jeon already, you loved them more than life itself but you would be a big fat liar if you said that having this massive pregnancy bump wasn’t inconvenient and sometimes downright painful.

“Damn babe, are you okay? You should have called me before you left the mall! I would have come and picked you up. And I know, I know you’re gonna complain about your ‘independence’ but am I wrong for not wanting the love of my life and the mother of my child to walk home in the pouring rain”

As you stepped inside your room your thoughts were interrupted by your husbands barrage of words. The only thing you really caught was the sarcastic was he said ‘independence’ and that only soured your mood even further.

“Have you already finished making the Jjajangmyeon?” you asked, jumping strait to your main concern.

“Oh yeah, I forgot it was Tuesday hahah it completely slipped my mind. We can just order in tonight” he chirped with amusement lacing his tone.

He thought this was fucking funny?! Was he fucking serious!

“Jeon Jungkook are you kidding?! Your actually fucking joking, right?!” You yelled.

The amusement in his eyes switched to fear faster than you thought humanly possible. He could tell. He knew, you were enraged.

“Oop, using my full government name, that can’t be good” he joked attempting to lighten the mood but you were having none of it.

“You’re such a fucking asshole, do you know that! Today has been the worst fucking day of my life and your sat here laughing about the one thing that would have redeemed it. You don’t care about me at all, do you? God you are so useless, I ask you to do one thing and you cant even do that. The only fucking thing you seem to listen to is ‘don’t pull out’. Clearly you didn’t have a problem with that instruction”

“Why are you yelling at me?” he questioned attempting to understand where your sudden outburst had come from.

“Because the reason I’m in this mess is because of you! You’re the reason im swollen and in constant pain! You’re the reason people think I look like a whale. I hate you and I hate what you’ve done to my body!”

And soon as the last sentence left your lips you wished you could take them back. You had never said anything like that to him before. Your hands clasped over your mouth as if that could erase from the universe the cruel outburst that had just escaped your body,

Your glassy eyes looked into Jungkook’s eyes as he stared back into yours not even uttering a word but communicating to you how much that hurt him.

“Kookie I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean it! I swear!”

“I know you didn’t” he said in a hushed tone and this was enough to set you off.

Your barrier of rage crumble and the tears finally released themselves from your eyes. You sobbed out all of the frustration and pain you felt in this exact moment and in all the moment you felt this same way but kept it bottled inside.

Damn these hormones

Flood of tears streamed down your face and you felt familiar arms wrap around you and you melted into his embrace. You knew he had forgiven you but that can never excuse what you allowed yourself to say. Especially cause it wasn’t true, nothing you said about him was true. He was loving and attentive and caring. He was your Jungkook and he had kept his promise to be there for you during anything and everything and you loved him.

You stayed silently in his arms for what felt like forever. You wished it was.

“I love you kookie”

“I love you too Y/N”

Jungkook interrupted silent pause

“Also, can I just add, you’re so fucking hot when you’re mad”

You let out a bellowing laugh and gave him a light slap on his chest

“Im serious Y/N, ‘the only fucking thing you seem to listen to is ‘don’t pull out’ has to be the hottest thing you’ve ever said to me. And it made me want to laugh because you’re acting like it was just an impulsive request but we both know you were BEGGING me to cum inside you”

“Jungkook!” You said incredulously.

Honestly, that’s all you could say because…it wasn’t like he was lying.

——————————————————————————————

That was fun! i really enjoyed writing that 🤍 forgive any spelling and or grammar mistakes, i literally wrote this at 3am 😂

- Ryeon （＾∇＾）

#jeon jungkook #jeongguk #jungkook #bts fanfic #jeon jungguk #jeon jeongguk #jeon jeongguk fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook cute #bts jeongkook #bts fic #bts x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x oc #jungkook husband #married #jeongguk x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fic recs

[mypoisonedvine]

𝖙𝖜𝖎𝖈𝖊 III {finale} || professor!helmut zemo x reader

{𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 I} {𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 II}

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞 : some part of you thought that maybe you could get through this without ever having to really talk about your feelings, or the future, or all those things you were pretending didn’t matter.  but they matter, and they can’t go unspoken forever.

𝖜𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙 : 11.7k

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘 : smut (semi-public sex aka car sex), some possessiveness, angst, fluffffff way too much fluff, violence (mentioned), mentions of serious injury, military references, relationship discussions, choking (non-sexual lmao it’s just on food), minor character death (in a flashback kinda, not graphic)

You glanced over at him as he stared out into the road ahead, one hand on the wheel and the other resting on your thigh, his thumb absent-mindedly stroking your skin.

The weekend getaway had been his idea, but he let you pick the destination.  You picked a cabin in a cute little seaside town, something relaxed where you could spend the whole weekend in bed together and not worry about the rest of the world for a little while.

But you were still in the car, so you were still worrying— specifically, worrying that this felt sort of like a boyfriend and girlfriend thing.  And that itself wasn’t so bad, but it made you feel like the ‘what are we?’ talk was inevitable, as was that talk going poorly.  You could picture it now: I like spending time with you, he’d say, one of those things that sounds like a compliment but really means you’re worth it as long as you require no effort and stay out of my way.

And you’d just nod and pretend to be okay with it because you were in too deep now to break it off.  When you were together, you were so happy that you couldn’t imagine ending it; and when you were apart, you missed him so much that all you could think about was the next time you would be together.

We’re happy now, why do things need to change? he’d say, one of those things that makes sense until you really think about it and understand that it just means why would I care if we’re moving forward or not?  I’m already getting what I want.

You sighed, leaning your head back against the seat, and he glanced at you quickly.  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, squeezing your thigh.

“Nothing,” you mumbled.

“You expect me to believe that?” he chuckled.  “You’re overthinking again, I can feel it.”

“You can feel me overthinking?” you confirmed, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course,” he nodded.  “I can tell your mood very well by now.”

“Alright, then why ask me what I’m thinking about if you already know what I’m feeling, mind reader?” you challenged.

“You’re sighing because you are bored from being in the car so long,” he decided, “and you’re also noticing that you’ve never dated anybody who drove such a nice car before.”

Does that mean we’re dating?  “Anything else?” you smirked.

“And you’re wishing I would move my hand a little higher.”

Before you could react to that, he moved his fingers up under your skirt, gripping your thigh tightly until you breathed another sigh— one very different from the last.

“Am I right?” he grinned.

“Spot on,” you breathed, whimpering a little when one of his fingers toyed with the hem of your panties.  It was subtle, teasing, and yet it was enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your thighs to clench together which he noticed easily.

He tutted in faux disappointment when his finger moved down to find a wet patch in the fabric.  “Oh, wet already… what are we going to do with you, draga?”

Whatever the fuck you wanna do with me, you thought, but when your lips fell open thankfully only a little moan fell out.

It was impossible to complain about the risk of distracted driving when his fingers slipped into your panties and explored your folds— yet you were about to complain when he pulled his hand away, until you watched him bring his soaked fingers to his lips, quickly getting a taste before reaching under your skirt again.  As if that wasn’t hot enough, he growled a bit when he pushed two fingers into you suddenly.

“Fuck,” you whispered, making him smile proudly.  He only ventured the fingers inside you briefly, sliding them out slowly to brush the rough pads of them over your clit and it made your whole body shudder— he pressed down, drawing slow circles, until you were biting back whimpers and pleas for more.

He kept on teasing you, only reaching as deep as he needed to to lightly press into your spot before slipping out to rub your clit and then start the process all over again.

“You’re so…” you panted.

“Hm?”

“You’re so mean,” you hissed.

“Am I?  I can stop if I’m bothering you,” he offered.

“N-no!  I… I just need more, please,” you groaned, yelping a bit when he pinched your clit roughly.

This time when he filled you with his fingers, he twisted his arm to go a bit deeper and kept his thumb on your clit, your soaked pussy making it easy for him to pump in and out at an increasing pace.

Your eyes fell shut as you gripped the seat beneath you, rocking your hips up against his hand for more.

“Ohh, fuck, Helmut, I’m gonna come,” you warned mindlessly.

You only opened your eyes when you felt the car start to shift, looking over to him as he checked the road before pulling over off the side and stopping near the wooded treeline.

“Wh-what are you—?” you mumbled, cut off when he put the car in park and grabbed your face to kiss you roughly.  You held the wrist by his hand that held your face, moaning against his tongue, still not sure what he was up to but already on board.

“Get in the back, I can’t wait any longer,” he whispered, and you nodded dreamily as you broke away and awkwardly climbed into the backseat; he followed soon after, pushing you back against the leather and sliding his body between your legs; holding you close, kissing you harder.

It would have been reasonable to expect that the small space would make everything more uncomfortable, but instead it just made it hotter— like there wasn’t room to be anywhere but pressed right up against each other, like the only place he could rest his hands was on your body.  You felt totally helpless to his dominating and open-mouthed kiss, to his thick hands tugging your clothes out of the way while you blindly attempted to open his belt.

You reached into his trousers and found him already incredibly hard, wrapping your fingers around the silky skin and grinning when he cursed under his breath.

A bit hasty with your desperation getting the better of you, you guided him to your entrance and began to slowly push your hips forward— but he held your thighs and did it for you, sliding in in one smooth stroke.

This angle seemed to force him even deeper, and you clutched his shirt in weak fists as he pushed all the way inside.  “H-Helmut,” you breathed as he started to move, not quite sure if it was a plea for him to slow down or never stop.

“Fuck, say my name again,” he demanded.

“Helmut,” you repeated, giggling when he kissed your neck on a spot that sort of tickled a bit.  

“One more time,” he instructed; you could feel his grin against your skin, alongside his teeth grazing your pulse.

Just as you started to say it he fucked you harder all of a sudden, just to make you choke on it.  Soon you were saying his name like a prayer, over and over until you worried you’d lose your voice and he had to kiss you to make you stop.  “Say you’re mine,” he pleaded softly, right against your lips, “like you did the first time.”

You felt shame pang at the back of your head, a strong instruction from what was left of your logical mind not to do that.  But for all your mind’s protests, your body was already his and already bending to his will.  “Yours,” you moaned, “Helmut, I’m yours…”

“I know,” he breathed, nodding slightly as he kissed you again, “I know, baby.”

You whimpered and wrapped your legs around his hips, holding him closer as he stayed deep inside you, barely letting him pull back to thrust though he still managed regardless.  The bottom of his shirt was rubbing against your clit (consequences of only half-undressing for a quickie) and it made your back arch until you couldn’t push your body into his anymore.

Embarrassingly quickly, pressure began to build inside you, your moans getting louder as they echoed around the inside of the car.

“Will you come for me, draga?” he purred, a low growl against your neck where he had moved his assault of wet kisses.  You nodded quickly, holding onto his back tight and biting down on your lip a bit too hard.  His hand held your neck, thumb running over your jaw, and in a way it soothed you, but it also sent you tumbling over the edge all at once   You barely choked out his name as your attempt at a warning, as if it weren’t obvious just from the way your channel seized up immediately.  “Good girl,” he cooed lowly right against your ear, “so good for me, don’t stop.”

You couldn’t stop so long as he kept his pace— not nearly as fast as you were used to, much more measured and patient, and yet it ruined you in a way nothing else could.

It was much too sensual for the backseat of a Lexus.  Much too delicate and loving for two people who weren’t even in a formal relationship.  Much too perfect to ever forget, irritatingly enough.

He kept his eyes open to watch your face closely as he came inside you, admiring every detail of your face twisted in pleasure— a tear even fell down your temple and he softly brushed it away— before it all slowed down to a stop and you were just holding each other.

Once you both cooled off for just a second, he pulled you close and rolled you around so he was sitting and you straddled his lap, keeping you in an embrace while he kissed your neck and shoulder.  “So beautiful,” he whispered, so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

You wanted to tell him that you meant it, that you were really his.  That it wasn’t just dirty talk (and you weren’t even sure if it qualified as ‘dirty’).  Even if he rejected you, at least it would be off your chest.  

But you chickened out; and in your defense, if there’s any time to have a talk with a partner that might end up awkward, right before a weekend trip is probably the worst time possible.  So, it was strategic aside from just pathetic.

“We’re already going to be a bit late,” he noticed, lifting his hand over your shoulder to look at his watch, “is it alright if we just stay like this for a while before I get back to driving?”

You nodded sleepily against his shoulder and he grinned, kissing your cheek.  “Maybe you can rest here in the back after that…”

And you did, drifting off quickly in the comfort of his arms.  You only partially roused from your sleep when he carefully pulled out of you and laid you down gently, the sound of the car starting coming a few moments later.

He had to keep his eyes on the road, but he wanted so badly to watch you sleep in the rearview mirror.  

“So, what did you think?” you smiled expectantly as you turned from watching the credits roll on the TV to looking at where he sat beside you on the cabin’s big fluffy couch.

“Eh,” he shrugged.

“What?!” you squawked.  “You just experienced an American classic!”

“American classics, in my experience, are aggressive and boisterous and… greasy,” he explained.

You snorted.  “How can a movie be greasy?”

“I meant the food—”

“Oh!  We should watch Grease!” you realized.

He grumbled something in Sokovian to himself as he rubbed his forehead, and you laughed in relent.  “Fine, I won’t make you watch anything more.”

“No, I like watching movies with you,” he decided, “but maybe the next one can be a bit more… subtle.”

"The next movie we watch should be Sokovian," you suggested.

"There aren't many Sokovian films… the constant war was pretty hard on the cinema industry, believe it or not,” he scoffed.  “We managed to make a lot of porn, though.”

“Well then maybe we should watch some of that,” you smirked, and he laughed as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Oh no, it’s awful.  Plumbers and lonely housewives, cops pulling women over, that sort of thing,” he dismissed.

“Cheesy porn tropes, you say?  Like, perhaps, a professor and his student?” you pressed, leaning in to run your fingers playfully over his open collar.  “So unrealistic.”

“It was different with us,” he decided.

“How?”

“It wasn’t for a grade, we never used the term ‘oral exam’...”

“Mm, maybe we should have,” you purred, hopping up to straddle his lap and trace your finger over the chain of his necklace that was just barely exposed under his shirt.  “It’s sorta sexy.”

“Really?  Oral exam?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.  “Makes me think of the dentist.”

“Oh, so you don’t think dentists are hot?” you joked.  “Who doesn’t like latex gloves and drills in their mouth?”

He laughed, and although you were sort of trying not to seem totally desperate, you just couldn’t hold yourself back from trying to kiss that smile right off his face— thankfully he didn’t seem to mind, humming a bit against your lips and placing his hands on your back to hold you closer.

Just when you thought he would deepen it, he pulled back slightly.

“Wait,” he mumbled against your lips, pushing you back gently to break the kiss.  “It was… different with us, right?”

You shook your head slightly, confused as you struggled to remember what he was talking about.  “What?  Yeah, of course.”

Hastily pressing your lips back on his, you were all in but he was clearly distracted, only half-heartedly kissing you back; you could all but taste his hesitance and it forced you to pull back and look down at him again.

“What’s wrong?” you asked softly, tilting your head.

“Oh, uh, nothing’s wrong,” he assured, “I just… I was just thinking.”

“...what were you thinking about?” you asked when you realized that was the end of his sentence.

“I was thinking about what you said a few weeks ago, on my birthday— that you liked that I’m so much older than you.”

“Mhm?”

“You’re not…” he started and began again.  “This isn’t just… about that, for you, is it?”

“What?” you furrowed your brow.

“I mean, is that what this—” he motioned to the space between the two of you— “is about?”

You frowned, a little sinking feeling already forming in your gut.  “I don’t understand,” you spoke, but your fear was more that you understood him completely.

“My English isn’t good enough for this,” he sighed.  “Sometimes I worry that this is… something you do.”

“That what is something I do?” you asked, a bit more pointed than you meant for it to come out, but you really just needed him to say it.  

“Date older men,” he finally finished.  “Seduce professors, I don’t know, whatever you’d like to call it.”

You straightened up and got up off of his lap, stepping back.  “Seriously?  You think this is, like, my kink or something?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he clarified, standing up with you, “but I’m asking in case I’m wrong.”

Maybe on some level, you could appreciate that it was a reasonable question.  After all, you had been sort of wanting to ask him if he made a habit of seducing students— but you didn’t because you knew it would be horribly offensive, which is why it was so aggravating that he was doing it to you now.  In these months together (but not together together), had he not learned enough about your character to realize you weren’t in it for anything but him?  “I told you I haven’t even dated that much before you,” you reminded him firmly, crossing your arms.

“And I believe you, I’m not accusing you of anything—”

“It kinda sounds like you are!” you snapped.

“And it sounds like you are getting defensive about it, which makes me worry even more!” he shot back, and you wondered if you’d ever heard him raise his voice before.

“Well, don’t worry about it, because it’s none of your business,” you rolled your eyes, “we’re not even dating anyway.”

Just as you started to walk away, not even sure where you would go when you were staying here with him (a walk outside, maybe, just to clear your head and be somewhere that he couldn’t see you cry?), he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Wait, please,” he breathed, and only because he sounded so broken-hearted did you turn around.

“What?” you sighed, showing your irritation in lieu of your heartbreak.

He took a quick breath, collecting himself before he spoke again.  “I don’t mean to be invasive and I certainly don’t mean to be controlling,” he explained, “I just… I want to understand what you want.  From me, specifically.”

“Okay,” you nodded, “that might be a more complicated question than you realize.  With a complicated answer.”

“I have time, I have the rest of the weekend," he decided.  “Just tell me that this isn’t only fun for you.  If it is, then… then I’m glad you had your fun, and we can have fun together here, and then when we get back to the city… we can go our separate ways.”

“And if it’s not?”

He swallowed, looking away briefly before stepping closer, reaching up to cradle your face in his palm.  “If it’s not just fun, then… then we need to have a different conversation.”

You cleared your throat nervously.  “What conversation?”

“I need to know first,” he insisted, “or it would be wrong for me to tell you.  I don’t want you to spare my feelings, draga, I just want the truth.”

What you really wanted was to know his feelings first so you could spare your own, but he was so adamant on making you speak first, his gaze desperately searching your face as you tried to avoid the heat of it.  “I…” you began, not sure what to say.  You knew what you wanted to say, you just didn’t know how, exactly.  Looking up into his eyes again, you took a quick breath and started over, trying to ignore your heart racing inside your chest.  “It’s not just fun, Helmut, or a bucket list thing or a ‘trying something wild and crazy while I’m still young’ thing.  I’m serious about this… but, you know, if you just wanna stay casual I understand—”

He cut you off with a kiss, sudden but not quite desperate; rather relaxed, actually, and you melted into it as his arm snaked around your waist and pulled you close.  

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips. 

“You— what?” you gasped, pushing back slightly against his chest.

“I love you,” he repeated.  “It’s not just fun, it’s not a bucket list thing or a midlife crisis thing— I love you, I’ve been in love with you for weeks and couldn’t think of what to say… I was afraid to smother you, you wouldn’t be wrong to want more freedom than you can have with me.”

A shaky breath moved in and out of your lungs as you looked away from his gaze— it was too wonderfully all-encompassing for you to be able to process this with his eyes on you.

“I hope it doesn’t bother you,” he mumbled nervously, “but I can’t change how I feel.”

“No, it doesn’t… it’s good,” you smiled, starting to laugh.  Your heart was beating so heavy you could hear it in your ears, you could barely even hear yourself speak as you answered him.  “Helmut, it’s— I love you too, of course.”

“Really?” he beamed.

“Really.” 

He kissed you again, harder, and neither of you could stop smiling through it.  "Say it again," he pleaded softly. 

"I love you," you repeated.  "I love you, Helmut."

“Mm, one more time,” he encouraged with a soft laugh as he lifted you into his arms and began to carry you down a familiar path to the cabin’s bedroom.

“I love you I love you I love you I—” you had to stop to gasp when he bit down on your neck, not too hard but still quite surprising, before he tossed you down onto the bed and pounced on top of you.

“Is it fair to say that we’re dating now?” he presumed, making you laugh.  

“Yeah, I think so.”

“So it’s just us, you and me, girlfriend and boyfriend?” he continued.  “Nobody else?”

“There was never anybody else,” you promised.

“I know, and now there never will be,” he cooed, placing a kiss right on your ear.  “You’re all mine now.”

A shiver ran up your spine instantly.  “God, how do you do that?  Go from sweet to filthy in a split-second?”

“Mm, a habit of mine,” he hummed, “because it makes you all cute and whiny.”

You frowned as he kissed your nose.  “Hey!” you, proving him right, whined; he laughed and held the back of your neck as he kissed you again.

Just the sex that followed that conversation would’ve been enough to make this an amazing weekend, but it was even better to leave the vacation as a couple when that wasn’t even how you’d started it.  

Afterwards, you laid together in bed and commiserated how silly you both had been to assume the other didn't want more, deciding from now on to be open and honest as much as possible.  That was what inspired you the next day to spend the morning trading secrets over the breakfast he'd made.

"I cheated on my eighth grade Spanish exam," you admitted, making him put down his fork in pretend shock.

"¡Chica traviesa!" he gasped.

"Maybe if I'd actually studied, I would know what that means…"

"Truthfully, I can't judge you.  I did something similar in my primary studies,” he recalled.  “I broke into the teachers' desk and stole an early copy of the exam.  But I didn't use it myself, I used it to impress a girl in my class."

You smiled trying to imagine that.  "I can see you as the romantic type when you were a kid," you hummed.

"I was more the rebellious type, with girls being one of the more reliable ways to rebel."

That piqued your interest, and you gave him an excited grin of anticipation.  "Did you have a punk phase?"

"It was Eastern Europe in the early 90s: of course I had a punk phase," he chuckled.  "How else do you celebrate the end of a brutal capitalist revolution but by importing every Western record you can find and dying your hair black in a petrol station's bathroom sink?"

"Oh my god!" you giggled.

"But it was rather minimalist, I wasn't permitted much stylistic freedom so it was little things like that… I wanted an ear piercing, but my mother would've truly had a heart attack."

"I guess you're better than I was,” you shrugged, “my rebellious phase was brief but with a much stronger willingness to sacrifice my mother's sanity."

"Yes, that's more typical," he nodded.  "I suppose my real secret was that I didn't want to rebel from my parents nearly as much as I thought I did… I just wanted to make them happy."

You smiled at him as he stared down at his plate.  "You sound like a sweet kid."

"Horrifically stupid and a bit self-involved but sure, sweet," he agreed with a chuckle.

"So, all our secrets are out, huh?" you grinned.

"Perhaps I have a few left," he smirked as he leaned across the table to kiss you softly.  "I'm saving them for a rainy day."

The weekend went by much too quickly, but you couldn’t begrudge the return to daily life now that you were returning to it together— so far, you’d found that together was the best way to experience life. 

Almost as fast as the vacation, so went the seasons as well: you both had classes through summer, and you enjoyed the freedom that came with a much more empty campus; fall, as always, was damp and chilly yet comforting— sometimes the leaves turned just the right color of brown before they fell to remind you of his eyes; winter sent you back home to see your family for the holidays, just for a few days, and you told them you’d bring your mysterious boyfriend next time even though it made your heart race to imagine that.

Your birthday passed at some point during the year, and he took you out to one of those slightly-hipstery barcades where he revealed his secret talent for skeeball— you were glad he felt comfortable completely annihilating your high score even on your birthday.  He invited your friends, too, and it went significantly less horribly than you imagined; they only asked him weird questions about being a professor a few times, but otherwise everyone got along oddly well.

And soon it was another spring again, one of your last ones before you graduated, and you let yourself focus on things other than what might happen when you left the university and he almost certainly stayed.  For now, you just needed to worry about how you’d ever find time for each other during finals season when both of you were busy for different reasons.

           Dinner tonight?  I have a reservation at 7 for a place in the museum district.  They have a dress code so wear something evening ready if possible.  -Z

you don’t have to sign your texts you know.  I know it’s you.  it says your name right above the text.

           It’s more formal this way.  -Z

it’s a text message, it will never be formal??

          Will I see you at dinner tonight or am I in trouble for asking over text?  -Z

I’ll be there

          I look forward to your company, draga

hey, you didn’t sign it!  progress!

         -Z

goddamn it

“This place is… really nice,” you noticed sheepishly, glancing around at the minimalist-yet-luxurious decor of the restaurant while you took your seat across the white-linen-covered table from him.  “Like, significantly nicer than I’ve ever been to before.”

“Well, you look like you fit right in,” he assured, and you almost believed him— it was the nicest thing in your closet, but still seemed like the wrong energy compared to how him and everyone else seemed so casually flawless.  “I took the liberty of ordering for you,” he explained as he poured water into your glass for you from the basin at the table, “I was going to make you order the salmon anyways, it’s really impeccable.”

“What’s the occasion?  I’m still feeling spoiled from the anniversary celebrations last month.”

You two had decided to celebrate a year since the day you’d met (and had sex for the first time; it was an action-packed day) instead of the day you had officially began your relationship, since there was no reason to commemorate months of pretending to be casual while you were both quietly devoted to each other.

“I just want to have a nice date with my girlfriend, is that so terrible?” he smiled.

“No,” you answered quickly, “but that’s a load of bullshit.”

He chuckled a little.  “You’re right.  I wanted to do something nice with you before I go.”

“Yeah, that’s not ominous at all,” you frowned.  “Care to elaborate, international man of mystery?”

The conversation paused briefly as the server came by with your meals, and you gave him a little nod of appreciation before he left; the salmon did look pretty amazing, and you trusted your boyfriend’s taste even if it was often more refined than your own.

“I need to make a trip home in the next few months,” Helmut finally clarified.  “Nothing particularly interesting, and thankfully all very temporary— boring estate management stuff, comes up every once in a while,” he shrugged.

“How long will you be gone?” you asked, hoping you didn’t sound as needy as you felt.

“No more than three weeks.”

“Three weeks?!” you yelped.

“You know I’d never leave your side if I had the choice,” he smiled.  “It’ll go by in a moment, you might not even notice I’m gone.”

“Are you kidding?  I practically live at your apartment.  We probably haven’t spent three days apart since we met.  Hell, we have sex, like, five times a week!”

You heard the chatter of nearby restaurant-goers die down, and you awkwardly looked around to find some of them staring at you as Helmut tried to suppress his laugh.

“I… may or may not have forgotten we’re in public,” you whispered harshly as most of them seemed to get back to their own conversations.  “Let’s not eat here again.”

“Oh, would you like to announce our sexual frequency anywhere else?” he joked, though his tone remained as serious as ever, and it made you laugh even though you were the butt of the joke.  “Olive Garden, maybe?”

“Shut up,” you demanded between hiccups of laughter.

“The Texas Roadhouse?  I’m sure they would love that,” he continued.  “They seem like a real liberal crowd.”

“Stop,” you snorted, trying to catch your breath and not laugh too loud in front of all these people who already had a poor impression of you.

“Or we can go to the drive-through at Taco Bell and you can tell them through the little speaker thing,” he offered, and you hid your burning face behind your cloth napkin.

“You’re mean, I was just trying to say that I’m gonna miss you if you’re gone for so long!”

He leaned across the table to grab the napkin and slowly pull it down from your face, smiling at you when he could see you again.  “I’ll make it up to you,” he promised.  “We’ll have sex fifteen times when I get back, for lost time.”

“That’s not really my issue,” you sighed.  “I mean, yeah, we’re still definitely gonna do that, but that’s not what I’m gonna miss most.”

“I know,” he nodded, “don’t think I’m going to do anything but miss you terribly the whole trip.  In fact, that brings me to what I wanted to talk to you about tonight.”

“Telling me you’re leaving for three weeks isn’t the main topic of discussion?” you realized.

“It was, but now I’m here with you and it has me thinking all sorts of things,” he explained.

“Okay… what are you thinking about?” you asked quietly.

“Well, I was just thinking that I don’t want to keep you from living your youth while you can,” he answered, looking back at you as you took a sip of your drink, “but that I’d like to marry you.”

Just like that, you inhaled some water and began coughing and choking.

“Hypothetically!” he blurted out, leaning forward to make sure you were okay but you waved him back into his seat.

“I, uh,” you began, coughing one more time before you started again, “I didn’t think that was what you were thinking about.”

“Well, clearly,” he mumbled.

“I mean, I didn’t know you were thinking about that at all,” you explained, “like, I wasn’t sure that we were there yet.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t notice when I told you not so long ago that this year with you had been the best of my life,” he recalled, making you smile a bit to yourself at the memory.  “I’m there.  I’m just asking where you are.”

“I guess I need to think about that,” you lied.  You didn’t need to think about it, you knew that he was talking about exactly what you wanted, but you needed to convince him you were taking this question seriously— god knows he was constantly worrying that you shouldn’t be tied down to him when you were so young, and although you typically handled that by making a bondage joke (and he typically handled that by making a non-joke bondage offer), you didn’t want him to worry about this.  

“Maybe you can think while I’m on my trip,” he decided, “and when I come back, we can talk about the future.”

“I just meant for, like, a few minutes,” you admitted.  “I don’t need that long, Helmut.  I know what I want.”

“Care to enlighten me?”

“To be with you, whatever that looks like,” you said, sounding more confident than you thought possible.  “That’s what I want.  And I don’t wanna hear you saying anything about how you think I might be too young for marriage or that I might change my mind later… I have a right to love just as much as you, and to know what’s right for me.”

“And it’s me?” 

You smiled as you reached for his hand where it rested on the table, squeezing his fingers in yours.  “It’s you.  Obviously.”

He looked at your hands held together before he smiled back at you— but it faded suddenly, and he pulled his hand away to lean back in his chair.  “There’s something else I should tell you, before I let you say too much...”

You swallowed thickly.  Oh god, here it comes.  Secret family in Canada, glue-sniffing addiction, absurdly specific and disturbing fetish… the wheel of misfortune was already spinning in your head, and you took a bite of your fish to try to look natural.

“You should know the truth about my family, back in Sokovia?  We’re, in a certain sense of the word… royalty.”

You started choking again; why did he keep telling you this stuff while you had something in your mouth??

“Shit, are you alright?” he asked nervously, and you nodded in spite of your fit of coughs.

“Are you a prince?!” you spat out as you started to catch your breath again.

“A baron.  A little less romantic, I know,” he smirked.

“And if… if what you’re talking about, actually happened, then that would make me…” you trailed off, raising your eyebrow expectantly.

“My baroness,” he finished for you.  Funny enough, the word my was doing more for you than the royal title.  “Hypothetically.”

“You keep saying that word,” you noticed.  “I hope we think it means the same thing.”

“Maybe a better word would be ‘eventually,’” he decided, and your back straightened because oh shit, this is really going to happen.  “Maybe an even better word would be ‘soon.’”

You almost choked again, with no excuse this time as there was nothing in your mouth to actually choke on.  “H-how soon?” you whispered, and his lips curled into a mischievous grin as he lifted his drink.

“Sorry darling, I don’t think I can tell you that,” he decided as he took a sip slowly, still staring you down over the rim of the glass.

You shifted nervously in your seat, trying to imagine how you were supposed to be anything but jittery after this conversation. 

“Can I ask an inappropriate question?” 

He raised his eyebrow.  “Let’s try not to scare the other patrons again, but sure.”

“How rich are you?” you blurted out, and he laughed a little.

“Somewhere between ‘outrageously’ and ‘ludicrously,’” he decided.  “It might seem a little far-fetched considering I prefer not to live extravagantly here in the States… but we’ve made good use of the last dozen-or-so generations of wealth.”

“And you let me pay for lunch last week!” you remembered, leaning forward to smack him on the shoulder with a scowl.

“That’s all you have to say about that?” he realized bewilderedly.

“It’s all that I can process right now!”

“I should apologize for not telling you sooner,” he nodded.

You paused as you stared back at him.  “I sorta thought you’d continue with that by explaining why you didn’t.”

He sighed, looking away.  “I spent so much time worrying you were only with me in pursuit of a new experience with an older man.  And then if you knew how much money was involved… I didn’t want to jump from one insecurity to the next with you, if I could avoid it.”

“You’re insecure about being rich?  Next you’re gonna start crying ‘cause your cock’s too big,” you rolled your eyes.

Again, other diners turned to you and this time you looked back at them.  

“What are you looking at, huh?” you snapped, and they all stared back down at their plates quickly.  “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

“If you could stop antagonizing the public, that would be ideal,” Helmut hissed.

“I don’t think I’m handling this very well,” you groaned, hiding your face in your hands.  “I wish you would’ve told me before.”

“So do I, but believe me that I had my reasons,” he sighed.

You lowered your hands from your face to rest them on your elbows as you crossed your arms.  “I think if we are going to talk seriously about this next step, then you’re gonna have to tell me those reasons,” you decided.

“Right, of course,” he nodded, clearing his throat as he looked to the side.  “Well, I guess I should start from the beginning.  As good a place to start as any, yes?”

You wrinkled your brow; you weren’t sure why he was so clearly nervous.

“As you can imagine, I was born into the royal life, I didn’t have much of a say in it all.  From the time I was eighteen I was the 13th Baron in a line of Sokovian royals who controlled a certain amount of land.  In retrospect, I understand how incredibly fortunate I was, especially compared to the poorest people in my country, but at the time all I could appreciate was that it was stuffy and boring and allowed for none of the adventure I longed for.  Hence the aforementioned punk phase, but that didn’t satisfy for long.  I suppose that was why I enlisted.”

“You were in the military?”

He nodded.  “Briefly.  I liked the idea of being a part of something that had nothing to do with my name.  And I was two years into my contract when my unit was stationed in a little border town, mostly farmland, but Sokovian borders are always contentious places… anyhow, one night, while another Lieutenant and I were on patrol, there was an ambush.  They shot at us, we shot back, but we were just firing into the dark so we went down rather quickly… I assumed that was the end, everything went black in an instant before I could even think…”

You shuddered, appreciating how traumatic this was for him as he looked down at his lap, stoic but in that way that clearly held more underneath.

“I woke up in a bed, in a cottage,” he recalled.  “A farmgirl heard the gunfire and waited until the enemy forces moved on to render aid.  She told me I was nearly dead when she found me but that her uncle was the local doctor and had been able to remove the bullets and stitch me up.”

“You told me those scars were from being attacked by a dog as a child,” you remembered.

“Yes, I didn’t forget the lies I told you,” he frowned.  “I think that one should be understandable.”

You swallowed, regretting saying anything.  “O-of course, I’m sorry.”

“The important thing is that she told me my partner was dead when she got there, and she couldn’t do anything for him.  I was in shock— keep in mind I was young and dumb and thought of myself as some kind of invincible— but for the next month she delicately nursed me into… at least decent health, and helped me cope with it all.”  He took a deep breath, a soft and somber smile crossing his face.  “I suppose you can imagine what happened next.”

He looked at you again and you gave him a shrug, unsure what he expected you to guess.

“We fell in love,” he finished flatly.

“Oh,” you nodded, “right.  It sounds pretty romantic.”

“Yeah, the wounded infantryman and the rural farmgirl… it was all very pastoral,” he sighed, “but anyways, my family was more than hesitant to allow me to marry a poor girl, which obviously only made me want to do it more.  I even told her that I’d leave the title for her, and she gave me some pitiful monologue about how she’d never forgive herself if she was responsible for me being disinherited, she pleaded with me to find a way to gain my parents’ approval… but I knew that we were in love and that nothing could stop us, so I didn’t think much of it.”

You tried to imagine him as a young, hopeless romantic, and some part of you was a bit jealous that others got the opportunity to experience that side of him when you didn’t; but it wasn’t like he was exactly cold and hardened now, at least not with you.  Just wiser, with more experience and more scars.

“My parents had put their foot down and demanded I call off the engagement.  And, oddly enough, they told me that it wasn’t her social standing that bothered them but that they simply didn’t trust her.  That they thought I was being rash and had only known her a few months— that I was too young, I would change my mind.  I was incensed; I mean, not only do they dare to insult my foresight, but this was the love of my life they were talking about like she was some conniving witch.  So I said some things I regret to this day, and I told them to keep their title and their properties and have me formally disowned at their earliest convenience.”

“Wow,” you breathed.

“Well, the truth, as it often does, came out sooner or later.  That all along, her love was for the money and not the man.  When I told her I’d left my title behind for her, she… didn’t take it very well.  And by that I mean she slapped me so hard I saw white for a second.”

Your heart hurt to imagine him being treated like that.

“I told her that we would be poor but we would be happy together, she told me that she never wanted to be poor again, that the reason she did all this was to get out of this hellish farming town and live in a castle in Novi Grad.  I suppose I could’ve forgiven all that, after all I imagine she struggled greatly for a long time living that way.  But then she started ranting about how she didn’t drag some dying Baron through the mud that night on the patrolway just to marry a poor man.  I was heartbroken just realizing that she knew who I was when she saved me— that she might not have if I were anyone else.  Like, say, my partner that night.”

Your chest was too tight to gasp properly.  “You don’t mean…” 

“She held out on me for a minute but I finally got her to admit it… the other man was alive when she found us, but she left him to die while she saved me, apparently planning from the very beginning to seduce me and escape to Novi Grad like she always dreamed of.  His name was Miroslav Pavlović, and he was a good man…  a boy, really, only twenty when he died.  Alone.  In the dirt.”

Hot tears on your cheeks made you realize you were crying, and you awkwardly wiped them away in hopes that he wouldn’t notice.

He took another deep breath and seemed to reorient his mind, away from the mourning and back to his story.  “Of course, I, being a young man with all my pride, told my parents that I ended it in respect of their wishes, but I think my mother suspected what really happened.  Especially when the girl went ahead and married my cousin.”

“She what?!”

“An industrious young woman, I have to give her that,” he nodded.  “She didn’t need a Baron, she just needed somebody who could get her out of the farm and into whatever her idea was of a luxurious life.  And yes, it is exactly as wonderful as you’re imagining to see her on those rare occasions where the extended family all has to gather.”

“Yikes,” you mumbled.  “That’s… cold.”

“I suppose it all worked out for the best— I dodged a bullet much worse than the ones that hit me before I met her, she got her riches and noble husband, and my parents were free to arrange a marriage for me with a woman of more adequate social standing.  I was so convinced I was terminally unlovable that I actually went along with it.”

“You married her?”

“No, I just agreed to, on the condition that we meet a few times first, at least.  It was the second time we met when she confided in me that she was actually a lesbian.”

“Oh!” you chuckled, hoping it wasn’t inappropriate to laugh a bit.  Not as his misfortune, per se, or at the idea of a lesbian in general, but just the way this story seemed to get more complex at evey turn.

“Yes, well, my family was more liberal but hers were not the sort who would respond well to that news… I considered going through with the marriage to give her an alibi, so to speak, and the both of us would quietly have affairs with women— ideally different women— to keep up appearances for our families.  She and I actually got along alright, we thought maybe we could be good friends, which some husbands and wives aren’t even when they marry for more genuine reasons.”

You scoffed as you nodded, “yeah, true that…”

“But,” he shrugged, “I got cold feet, I just couldn’t bring myself to resign to an entire relationship built on a lie again, so, I decided to leave it all behind and study at a German university— I chose history because I’d consumed historical nonfiction voraciously throughout most of my life and it seemed like a good fit, and I suppose it was the right choice… because here I am.”

You took a long, deep breath, but you didn’t feel that much more stabilized afterwards.  “Okay, a lot to unpack with that,” you announced.  “I understand why you didn’t tell me about the money, with everything that happened before… but you lived this entire life that I knew nothing about.  You already know everything about me.”

“I couldn’t tell you much more than I did without burdening you with it.”

“Sure, but you can appreciate that this puts me in a sort of vulnerable position,” you offered.

“Right,” he agreed.  “That was, of course, never my intention.  I don’t tell anyone the things I’m telling you now, understand that.  Everyone at the university thinks I came from much more humble beginnings and has no idea about my military service— well, except for that one royal historian who unfortunately recognized my name, but I’ve been bribing him into silence from my first day.”

“Wait, you pay him off?!”

“Oh, god no— I just grade his final term papers,” Helmut shrugged.  “But still, I got pretty comfortable with my reinvention, weeks go by without me thinking about my life before this.  Especially with you… sometimes I thought maybe it would be better to quietly abandon it all and become the person you thought I was.”

You smiled a little; maybe you wished that you knew how to be angry with him even in times like this, but you just couldn’t do it.  “You’re still the person I think you are,” you assured.  “Where you come from is not who you are, it’s just one of those things that help make you who you are.  It’s up to you to decide what you do with it… and I think you’ve done something pretty great with it.  Plenty of people who didn’t need to work for a living just wouldn’t.”

“I know it sounds nice, and I won’t pretend it isn’t an invaluable resource, but I find it much more fulfilling to work.  I really love what I do, so that helps.”

Nodding a little to yourself, you reflected on how true that really was; after all, this all began in a classroom where you were enchanted by his passion.

“I suppose the moral of the story is… I’m sorry that I hid things from you,” he concluded firmly.  “I’ve learned that I can’t protect myself from heartache and love you properly at once— I have to pick one.  I want to choose to love you, I want to choose that every day for… well, forever.  If you’ll let me.  But if the secrets are too insurmountable, I won’t judge you.”

You let out a heavy sigh.  “That’s the dilemma of love, isn’t it?  You have to be willing to get hurt.  But the last thing I want is to hurt you, I promise.  And in the end, it really doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor or a fugitive from the law or an alien from space: I love you, really.”

For the first time since he started telling you everything, he seemed to relax.  “I love you too, I hope that much is obvious.”

You nodded, reaching across the table to hold his hand.  “Yeah, it is.  I’m still getting used to that, honestly.”

“Not that I don’t mind being the first,” he tilted his head, “but it’s a shame no one ever cherished you before, in the way that you deserve.”

“You do seem to mind it a little bit, when you always go on about ‘keeping me from my youth’ or ‘restricting me when I should be free’ or whatever,” you recalled, putting on a poor imitation of his accent when you quoted him.

“Well, I guess it’s that I never desired to be the first,” he clarified, staring you down suddenly, “but that I intend to be the last.”

That look… you were already biting your lip and you didn’t even notice it.  “Okay,” you sighed.

“Hm?”

“You can be the last, just take me home,” you whispered, crossing your legs to hold your thighs together as your tongue ran over your teeth.

He could only bear to tear his eyes from you for a second as he called out, “The check, please!”

wanna come over later?  I can’t focus enough to study

You stared down at the text you’d sent Kacey, wondering if it made you sound pathetic.  You didn’t want to seem like the sort of girl who made her boyfriend her whole life, and therefore had no idea what to do with herself while he was gone.  And to be clear, it wasn’t loneliness itself that made you so listless; of course, you missed him plenty, but your inability to get anything done or even enjoy some alone time was disrupted by that sort of numb, shocked feeling you got every time you remembered that he wanted to get married.

Even more shocking: you wanted to get married.

It didn’t feel too soon, it didn’t feel all that sudden, but it felt like it should feel too soon, if that makes any sense.  Maybe you could try to explain it to Kacey if she ever checked her damn phone.

You groaned as you tossed the device away, knowing staring down the screen wouldn’t make her answer any faster.  Having already watched everything good on every streaming service ever, you figured your next step was to move on to the mediocre things on streaming, but you couldn’t decide between a show about renovating tiny-houses or cooking using only leftovers.

It was hard to focus on your choices when you kept playing the moment before he left in your mind over and over.

You nestled in under his arm around your shoulders, tightening your grip around his torso until you caught a glance of his watch.

“Don’t you need to leave soon?  There will be traffic on the way to the airport.”

“No, there shouldn’t be, it’s only a ten minute drive.”

“What?  It’s at least half an hour.”

He laughed a little as he realized the misunderstanding.  “Darling, I’m not going to the airport.  I’m going to a private airport.  For a private plane.”

You cleared your throat.  “Oh… right.  Still getting used to the exorbitantly rich thing.”

“But I suppose I should finish my packing, I think I’ve put off the last of it long enough,” he sighed, sitting up and tearing himself out of your arms even though you were pouting about it.

Before he left he gave you a long kiss at the door, just meant to say goodbye, but then your knees went weak and he had to hold you and it all started to lead from one thing to another very quickly.

“Fuck, Helmut, your flight,” you reminded him breathlessly, holding onto his biceps as he kissed down your neck.

“They’ll wait for me, it’s my fucking plane,” he growled, grabbing your hips hard.  “I need to be inside you one more time before I go.”

Just as the best parts of the memory started to flood back, your phone rang and you jumped up instantly; the sound of 99 Luftballons, your custom ringtone for him that started as a joke but stuck for some reason, told you it was your boyfriend calling and it barely rang for a second before you answered.

“Hi!” you greeted instantly.  You looked at the clock on the wall and did some quick math to realize it was probably almost time for dinner there, when it was still before noon where you were.

“Hello, darling,” he answered back, his voice instantly soothing you as you leaned back against the headboard of your (his) bed.

“Your accent is stronger than when you left,” you noticed.

“This is the first time I’ve spoken English in days,” he explained.  

“How does it feel to be home?”

“Do you mean being in Sokovia, or talking to you?”

“Baaaabe,” you whined playfully, “you’re gonna make me all needy…”

“I just wish I was there to see the effect I was having on you,” he cooed.  “It’s been a bit boring without you— I’m going to bring you with me next time, I assure you.  Not just because I miss you so much, but so you can see the country.  I want you to see my homeland and there’s no one better to show you around than myself.”

“You really love it, don’t you?” you hummed.

“More than almost anything,” he answered, and you knew what he was implying he loved most.  “I know it has… struggled, it isn’t considered exactly a vacation spot by many, but it means everything to me.  I don’t have much family left for you to meet, but I’m sure I’ll find some people to show you off to.”

“I’d love to come with you,” you agreed, “you know I’d go with you anywhere, though.”

“And you need to try the ćevapi!” he added, and you could hear his beaming smile through the phone.  “Sokovian food is very different from Western dishes but I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Yeah,” you agreed dreamily, laying back on the pillow as you heard him sigh from the other end.

“God, I miss you,” he breathed, making you hum proudly.

“Miss you too,” you agreed.  “I’ve been thinking about you a lot…”

“Yeah?  I bet I can guess what you were thinking about.”

“Such as?”

“Things I can’t say right now, in case someone hears me,” he chuckled.  “We may not speak English much but they still understand it.”

“Well, I’m all alone,” you purred, “and I’ve been thinking about everything I’m gonna do to you when you get back.”

“Oh fuck, baby, don’t—” he pleaded weakly.

“I really wanna ride you,” you continued in a sultry voice you didn’t even mean to put on, “even though you’re probably too big for that, I just want you so deep in me I can’t fucking breathe—”

“You’re cruel,” he hissed, a low whisper, and you loved his helplessness.

“It’s been so lonely without you, Helmut, I’ve been fucking myself with every toy I can find but nothing fills me up like you do, god I just need your cock.”

“I should’ve had something custom made,” he decided, still whispering but you could hear him smirk, too.  “So it’s only ever me inside you.”

“Even then, it’s not the same… it has to be you, the way you fuck me is just impossible to recreate, nothing’s as good as you, professor.”

He made a strained noise and you giggled happily.  “How long has it been since you’ve called me that?”

“Too long,” you hummed, “I still think it’s pretty hot.”

“Oh, it definitely is,” he chuckled breathlessly, “listen, I have to return to my meeting, and you’ve made it impossible to focus on boring legal things now but I need to try my best.  Alright?  I’ll call you tonight, if you’re still awake.”

Of course, your tonight was his tomorrow morning; you decided not to make him worry by admitting you would stay up all night to be able to talk to him.  “Okay,” you sighed, “good luck in your boring legal meeting.”

He gave one last whispered ‘goodbye’ and the line beeped as the call ended; you sighed and flopped back onto the bed, staring up at your ceiling blankly.

He’d only been gone four days.  How were you supposed to make it to three weeks?

When his plane landed, you were waiting for him in the car, parked on the runway; it was a much quicker process than picking someone up from a traditional airport, plus you got to run to him the second he was off the plane and it made you feel like you were in an old movie or something.

Throwing dignity to the wind, you jumped into his arms and let him spin you around, setting you down to kiss you hard as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“I missed you so much,” he mumbled against your lips, hands gripping your waist, and you’d been trying to imagine this moment ever since he left but you couldn’t have ever come close to how perfect it was.

“Missed you more,” you promised with a smile.  “Let’s go home, Helmut.”

“Or…” he trailed off, and you raised an eyebrow as you sank back down onto your heels and looked up at him.

“Or?”

“Or we could get back on the plane and tell them to take us wherever we want.”

“I-I have finals!” you gasped.  “So do you!”

“Not until next week,” he dismissed, “this is just for a few days.”

“I haven’t packed any of my stuff!”

“You have your phone, everything else can be bought when we get there,” he shrugged.

“What’s gotten into you?!” you giggled, looking back up at him wildly and wondering how he could seem so calm.

“I’m rich and in love and a little bit impulsive, is that so bad?” he smirked.  “Where do you wanna go, draga?  Rome?  Sydney?  Jakarta?  Nairobi?”

“...Luxembourg,” you blurted out.  

He chuckled a little, eyes sparkling.  “Why there?”

“First place I thought of.  Is that a good enough reason to want to go someplace?”

“It is to me,” he grinned.  “You get on the plane and get comfortable, I’ll tell the pilot where we’re going.”

“Okay,” you laughed.  “This is crazy, you know.”

“I know,” he nodded, taking your hand and guiding you up the stairs back onto the jet.

It wasn’t like you’d never experienced the concept of travel before, but it was still blowing your mind that you’d woken up in your (his) bed this morning and now, in the same day, you were spending your evening in box seats at the Luxembourg National Opera.  He picked out the gown you were wearing (only fair since he was picking up the tab) and at first you had worried you couldn’t pull it off, but the way he kept glancing over at you made you confident you looked just fine.

“You’re not watching the performance,” you whispered to him, leaning closer to his shoulder.

“You don’t really need to see an opera, do you?” he frowned.  “Can’t I just look at you?”

“These tickets cost an arm and a leg, you can look at me for free!” you hissed, but you softened a bit when his hand moved to rest on yours and he kissed your temple softly.

The two of you stayed that way for the rest of the performance, leaning on each other and holding hands.  Even when you'd been together this long, you still felt butterflies when he interlaced his fingers with yours.

When the show was over and the lights came up to a wave of applause, he looked at you with bright eyes and took your hand.

"Let's walk to the hotel, yes?" he suggested.  "Explore the proper way instead of a cab."

"I can't walk that far in these shoes," you frowned.

"I'll carry them for you!"

"I can't walk that far barefoot," you laughed.

"Then I'll carry you," he offered, extending his hand for you to take.

And that was how you ended up being carried piggyback through the streets of Luxembourg, across cobblestone that reflected the soft yellow glow of the street lamps and sconces, in the most expensive dress you'd ever worn.

Life is crazy like that, sometimes.

"You know, this place is a bit like Sokovia," he decided, "but with a better GDP and fewer churches."

"As I understand it, most of the world has a better GDP and fewer churches than Sokovia," you quipped.

"Hey!" he yelped in defense.  "Just because it's completely true doesn't mean you have any right to say it!"

You laughed, holding onto his neck tighter but trying your best not to inadvertently choke him.

"Typical of a Westerner to have something snarky to say while standing on the backs of hard-working Sokovians," he scoffed, "or, in this case, riding on the back of one hard-working Sokovian."

"Hard-working?  What exactly does a Baron do for work?" you interrogated.

"Uh, carry spoiled girlfriends around tiny European countries, for one," he enumerated, "and when we're not casually becoming distinguished professors in America, we have to manage the various projects of the estate… the Zemo family— which is just me, at this point— runs eleven orphanages.  I visit those sometimes and make sure they have everything they need."

"Okay, I don't know that I'd call that hard work, but it's very important so you get a pass," you decided.

"This is us," he announced he stopped walking.

"What's us?" you asked, looking around.

"This building, this is where we're staying," he explained as he set you down and made sure you were balancing right on your heels.

You let your jaw drop as you looked up at the building, admiring the carved stone face with its intricate detail, designs that evoked a certain prestige that just couldn't be found on American buildings.

"Wow," you nodded, "you really don't skimp on your last-minute random vacations, huh?"

"Not if I can avoid it," he shrugged, leading you inside.

For an exterior so gothic, the hotel’s lobby was modern and clean, though certainly not lacking in extravagant touches; you were a bit too tired to properly appreciate that, though, leaning up against his shoulder as he conversed with the front desk clerk in German in order to finish the check-in process.

The hotel had one of those elevators with mirrors on the walls, and a more energetic version of yourself might have noticed the fooling-around potential of the space, but instead you just let your eyes fall shut until you reached the correct floor.  Being an incredibly fancy place, the rooms had actual keys and not just RFID keycards— you thought Helmut looked quite regal in his opera tux, unlocking a mahogany door with a golden key.  Hard to imagine him in a windowless office and a messenger bag on his shoulder now, but you could remember falling for him in that state just the same.

He let you in first— a true gentleman, of course— and the moment the door to the room shut behind him, you groaned and flopped down onto the bed unceremoniously.  He, meanwhile, undid his bowtie and unbuttoned a few buttons of his shirt before he laid down on his side by you, running his fingers over your back left exposed by the dress for a few moments before he pulled away.

“Darling?” he called to you softly, but you were too lazy to lift your head from where they were buried in the pillows.

“Mhmm?” you answered back, muffled.

“I…” he began, sighing before he started over.  “Well, nevermind.”

“What is it?” you pressed, turning your head over to see him— but then you saw his face, and the conflicted look it wore, and you sat up to lay closer to him.  “What’s wrong?” you asked gently, watched the way his hair fell into his face when he combed his fingers through it and glanced away from you.

“Draga, I must admit that I lied to you before about why I was returning home,” he spoke, and you were confused but said nothing.  You would’ve worried if it weren’t for the look on his face— calm, yet with something brewing in his gaze that you couldn’t quite describe.  But you trusted him.  When your brain would normally fill the silence with a thousand awful ideas of his real reason for his visit to Novi Grad, it was suddenly quiet.  “It wasn’t just for management of the estate… I had to retrieve something.”

He reached into his coat pocket, fishing out a small velvety box with red and gold along the edges.  Your heart either stopped, or beat harder than it ever had before; at a certain point the difference was irrelevant.  

“I know I should wait longer, for the perfect time, or even just any other time than when you’re not jet-lagged and I’m not so nervous I can’t even think, but…”

A sudden sigh fell from your lips when he opened the box and showed you the ornate ring inside— you couldn’t tell if it was aquamarine or blue diamonds but they shined brilliantly nonetheless.

“My mother wore this ring from the day my father gave it to her until the day she died,” he explained.  “I would like for you to wear it.”

Too stunned to do much else, you looked up at him blankly.

“I want you to be my wife,” he clarified, like he thought you didn’t understand what he was asking, and finally you snapped back to reality (as overwhelming as that reality was).  You smiled, even nearly laughing,  as you leaned in to almost press your lips to his— but when he leaned closer you kept him at bay with a hand on his collar.

“Say it again,” you requested coyly.

“You’re going to make me propose twice?” he realized, and you nodded as you bit your lip.  “I’ll say it a thousand times, draga: be my wife.”

“Two down, 998 to go,” you grinned, laughing when he growled and pulled you closer to bury his face in your neck.  You definitely noticed the longer beard when it tickled your skin with every kiss to your pulse.

“Be my wife, be my wife, my wife,” he cooed, casually starting to slip the ring on your finger before you dodged him.

“No no no, you haven’t said it a thousand times yet,” you chided him, “and I haven’t said ‘yes’ yet.”

“Oh, darling, don’t dare me to make you say ‘yes’ as if I don’t make you scream it out every night.”

And that’s exactly what he did: make you say yes a thousand times to a thousand proposals, pinning you down and showering you in love relentlessly.  For once you just accepted it; for once he didn’t feel guilty.  

In a certain sense it was sort of hasty, half-dressed and unexpected with him fumbling to hold your dress out of the way while you clung to his shirt and kissed him hungrily: but still, it was nothing less than sensual, due in part to every beautiful thing he whispered to you until you were too far gone to understand them.  He still kept going after that, even, just to feel the weight of his words on his tongue.  Just to promise himself to you whether you could hear him or not.

Who could say how far into the night it went?  That was the magical thing about it all— neither of you cared, neither of you worried or even thought twice about what time it was or if the sun would rise soon or if it would never rise at all and this was actually the beginning of the apocalypse.  It didn’t make a difference; because whether the world ended now or in a decade or in a billion years, you would be together for the rest of your lives.

We were young and in love and I knew nothing could stop us, you remembered something he said.  He said it like it was ridiculous, just a frivolous dream; and in retrospect, he may have been right about that specific situation, but now you understood why he had felt that way— you too felt that euphoric glow of knowing you were on the edge of something amazing.  Maybe not something perfect, but something that would work out for the best in the end.

When he was finally satisfied with how many times he had satisfied you and you fell asleep on his chest, he took the opportunity to slip the ring on your finger, admiring how beautiful your hand looked wearing it before he kissed the top of your head.

“Fits perfectly,” he whispered to you in spite of your unconsciousness.  “We’ll be so happy, draga… I promise.”

#helmut zemo x reader #baron zemo x reader #helmut zemo au #professor!baron zemo x reader #professor!zemo x reader

[folkloreguk]

French Class [7]

A/N: AAAH I apologize in advance for this part bc I feel like it's kinda messy :/ I hope you still like it though?? Lmk what you think! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), fwb, f2l?, college!au, fuckboy!bias, nerd!reader, angst, H/N is a jealous and drunk fool :/

words: ~ 3.7 k

✽series masterlist✽

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added!): @lovely-ateez, @runaway-fics, @mainexiii, @awfullytiredbuthealing, @erikyoong, @etherealuv, @yeostars, @staysuki, @justcuz-ican, @hyuckthangs, @teenloves, @mexious18-blog, @sunghoonied, @mailobjaeyoon, @tr-wemoon, @prismwon

couldn’t tag: @chorizoek, @r-eadings

H/N’s POV:

Maybe I’ll come ‘round, your text had said. How did you expect him to enjoy the party if you wouldn’t be there? H/N used to make fun of guys who ran after girls like lap dogs. And yet, over time he had become one of them, if not worse. Every text, every possibility of seeing you had him on the edge of his seat in excitement. There was nothing he cared about more than spending time with you. When at first it had been sexual attraction – an obsession with your body and the way you turned him on with the most subtle words and touches – it had changed into something entirely different. The relentless hunger was now occasional, ever so often interrupted by a dire wish to see you smile. A wish to hold you, and to kiss you out of the blue – something he wasn’t allowed to do if it wasn’t for the two of you hooking up. The stupid agreement you had made was starting to feel like torture instead of heaven. He was lucky his poker face was professional, and he had years of practice in flirting and sounding casual even if his heart was beating up to his neck. There was no other way he could have concealed how infatuated he was with you, otherwise.

“H/N, come help me set up the snacks!” Korain shouted from the kitchen. H/N’s friends were throwing a party at their place, and he had shown up early to assist them in preparing everything. With you on his mind – as always – he trotted into the kitchen where a row of bowls was standing out on the counter.

“Just open and pour the bags into the bowls, will you? I still need to get ready,” Korain said. “Chohee said she might be here a bit earlier, and I don’t want to look like this when she’s going to look amazing.”

Korain gestured to his bed hair he probably hadn’t brushed once since getting up and then tweaked the fabric of his sweatpants and his old, baggy tee. H/N wanted to argue that if Chohee really liked Korain, she wouldn’t mind seeing him this way. H/N, for one, couldn’t care less what you wore tonight. As long as you showed up at all, he would be beaming. Strictly speaking, at times when he got to see you wake up, sleep in your eyes and your clothes in a disarray, it spun his head in ways no little black dress could ever do. When he saw you make breakfast in his kitchen, in his shirt, he could barely contain himself.

His daydreams of you were once naughty and gave him boners at random times of the day – and don’t get me wrong, they still were, sometimes – but it was when the domestic dreams had begun, that he realized he was screwed. He didn’t need anybody to tell him how he felt, nor did he have some crazy moment of clarity. There came a point in his days where he didn’t just notice his non-sexual daydreams of you, he invited them. His brain was imagining things like setting up a shared table for dinner or kissing the back of your hand in the dark of a movie theater or playing you a cheesy song that reminded him of you. He wanted to hold your hands from across the library table and have his arm around your shoulders to show you off to the entire campus. But none of it could be real. It all went against the rules.

“Will Y/N be here too?” Korain asked and pulled H/N out of his daydreams. God, I hope so, he thought.

“She said she might be here,” H/N answered.

“Chohee’s always talking about her. And you. About how she thinks Y/N has a crush on you, but she always denies it, saying you’re just friends. Maybe you could try and bring that up tonight?” Korain said, as if discussing your feelings for someone was as easy at conversing about the weather. “Alright, I really have to go get ready now.”

“I’ve been thinking, I might- “ said H/N, but Korain only pat his shoulder.

“Let’s talk later, at the party, okay?” he said, and walked out the kitchen. I might like her, H/N had been meaning to say. I might like Y/N. No. I’m in love with her. No maybes. He could bet all his money on it, that’s how sure he was. But his friend had disappeared and now it was on him to wait until the party began. Left alone with his thoughts.

Of course, you would deny having a crush on him. Because you probably didn’t, he thought. Wouldn’t you search for a smart guy, someone your mother would approve of, and someone who understood your endless talks of nerdy topics? Although sometimes he had no idea what you were on about, H/N was captivated whenever you gave him a lecture about something you had learned. And when he asked you to explain something one more time, you never hesitated, or judged him for it. Your kindness made his heart swell, and only when the first crowd of party guests arrived did he realize he had spent half an hour daydreaming about you. Again.

With the way he kept the front door in his sight at all times, one could have wondered if he was a highly wanted criminal on the run, afraid the cops could barge in at any moment. Some of the girls who tried to flirt with him even asked him about it, but he wasn’t going to confess he was waiting for the love of his life to walk through that very door. With little conviction he returned their flirting. He hated himself for the thoughts he had. Thinking that should you not arrive, he could console himself by taking one of the other girls home instead. They didn’t deserve to be used like that, but he was bitter and so, so in love with you. It was hard to pay any attention to the other girls at all, no matter how sweet they were being.

Flirting back at them, however, came to him as easily as the words to his favorite songs. It posed no challenge, like it did with you. When he had to try hard to make your cheeks heat up, or to lure out a shy smile instead of your genius, quick-witted remarks. There was nothing more exciting to him than to invent new ways in which he could make you flustered.

Right now, it was his turn to be flustered. Because his ex had approached him and was reciting some of her favorite memories she had of their relationship. “Remember our third date…the one that ended with us squished in that tiny dressing room at Victoria’s Secret?” she asked and blinked at him expectantly. He went along with her words and replied something not too direct, but still enough to make her giggle like a little girl.

It was his own fault she was so intent on talking to him. While you had been on your date with the economy-major-guy, H/N had tried to contact his ex again. In hindsight, he thought it pathetic and extremely stupid at that. Nothing would have come of it, anyway. Not while he felt the way he did about you. So it was only lucky his ex hadn’t been free that night. Then he had gotten dangerously close to drowning his feelings in the vodka in his kitchen. Thankfully he had refrained from this, too, because you had shown up afterwards and you had ended up having mind-blowing sex, and he knew for a fact that had he been drunk, he would have blurted out some crazy sentiments he would have regretted saying in the morning.

Sometimes he tried to signal you his emotions, ever so subtly. Waving off your claims when you called him the campus fuckboy or telling you he wasn’t really hooking up with anyone else besides you, it all was an attempt at making you see what he felt for you. He would tell you that you looked pretty, not just so you would understand he liked you, but simply because it had to be said. When he regarded you fixing your hair in the mirror with a frown, he could barely believe you didn’t know how beautiful you were. And he had gotten closer to you during sex. Whether it was voluntary or an instinct that came with being in love, he wasn’t certain. There was nothing like kissing away your moans while he fucked you into a mattress.

He was about to text you – the urge to see you getting unbearable – but didn’t want to sound clingy when you strut through the door. No slow motion or fan blowing your hair around dramatically would have made you look more perfect. The ridiculous pang he felt in his heart when he saw you hug another guy only reminded him of how whipped he was. He reminded himself that he had no right to be jealous. You weren’t his girlfriend, after all. When you then made eye contact with him and made a beeline for him, he was worried he’d be short of words. He needed to pull himself together.

“Hi,” you said, and your smile was magical enough to stir up the butterflies in H/N’s stomach. You pointed at the empty spot on the sofa between H/N and another guy you didn’t know. “Is this seat taken?”

“No,” the guy said, before H/N had time to speak, and the stranger smiled at you in a way that could only mean he wanted to get to know you. But H/N caught your attention by swiftly putting his arm around your shoulder, making the stranger back up and divert his eyes the other way. He had never meant to be the jealous type. It was just that you were finally here, and he was so happy to see you, he couldn’t bare the thought of you running off again. Only when you gave him a funny look H/N realized he needed to calm down if he didn’t want you to get annoyed.

“So, what did I miss?” you asked.

His ex was approaching from across the room again, and before he could have stopped his mouth, he said the stupidest thing. “Kiss me.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, but he was intent on it. “Please. Kiss me. Quick.”

There was a strange emotion that crept over your face, and you seemed to have no clue why he was so set on it. Nevertheless, you did as he asked. Your mouth tasted of watermelon bubblegum, so sweet, so perfect, and he was flying on cloud nine for the short while it lasted. It wasn’t real, though. The thought stabbed his brain like a dagger. When you pulled apart you were grinning, and his ex wasn’t in the room anymore.

“Care to explain why we just did that?” you asked. “You’re diminishing your chances with the ladies in the room.”

He rolled his eyes. “My ex has been trying to get with me again, and I hoped she’d let off if she saw us kiss. And she did.” Then his eyebrows raised. “What do you mean by my chances with the ladies? I was hoping we could go home together.”

“I can’t tonight,” you said, and he had to fight to keep his face straight. “I’ve got to get back to studying first thing tomorrow morning. I just came here to hang out, for a while.”

“Oh,” was all he could muster without sounding like you were ripping out his heart. It wasn’t even your fault. He would never try and get between you and your studies. But what if he could be there? What if he could be the one staying in bed, watching as you climbed up early to bury your head in books? He’d watch you through tired eyelashes, and you’d ridicule him for being so starry-eyed when looking at you. Later he’d bring you tea or coffee and remind you to take a break to eat. Was it ludicrous to obsess over something so domestic? He didn’t feel guilty for it.

All at once, your laugh pulled him out of his daydream, and into a funny story you told him. Over-consciously, he noted how your arm went around his shoulder lazily. And for a while you sat and talked. Occasionally a flirty remark slipped over your lips, and he would always return it. It was idiotic, but he was already worrying about how much he would miss you once you went home. Perhaps his plan of consoling himself with another girl hadn’t been so bad, after all. Just as he had finished the thought, a familiar face walked by and noticed him. The alcohol in his veins made her seem perfectly inviting as a distraction, for later.

“Oh, hey. Y/N, this is Minji,” he said, pointing at the girl. “Minji, this is Y/N. She’s…just a friend.”

Instantly, you removed your arm from his shoulder. There was hidden pain in your gesture, or was it merely wishful thinking on his side? Minji nodded and greeted you, but you only waved her off with a polite smile.

“I’m going to get a drink from the kitchen,” you announced, and before he could have stopped you, you had walked off. For a while he chatted with Minji, because he had no good reason to run after you that wouldn’t create awkwardness. His patience lasted approximately ten minutes. Luckily, a friend waved at Minji from across the room and she excused herself. Although he would never wish her ill, he was glad she was leaving.

Quickly, he made his way to the kitchen, where he found you talking to a guy. Without thinking, H/N smiled at you as he came up to you and wrapped his arm around your waist. He hadn’t meant to look so intimidating, and he hadn’t meant to be an asshole either. Yet, the guy across from you appeared scared and when you turned your attention to H/N, the guy slowly retracted into another circle of chatting people. Guilt crept in on H/N. He was tipsy, and although he knew his drunkenness wasn’t an excuse, it made him want you so much more. Perhaps it was also insecurity making him act crazy. There was always a glimmer of hope in the back of his mind, that you might just like him back. So long as you hadn’t confirmed the opposite, he would live in constant terror that someone else could steal your attention and make you theirs before he could.

“Come with me,” you muttered in his ear. Your hand was around his wrist, and he had no choice but to trot after you like a child. At first, he thought you were going to take him out the front door, but then you made a turn for the stairs. He didn’t need to be a fuckboy to know what it meant when a girl walked him up the stairs. From one second to the other, his mood changed into gleefulness. Had you changed your mind? The mere thoughts of what could happen upstairs could have given him a boner, had he pondered on them for longer. You said nothing, only driving him more insane by the second. The first open door was good enough for you, so you pulled him inside and closed it behind you. Smirking, he reached for your waist, ready to pull you into a kiss.

“Don’t,” you hissed, and he flinched at your angry tone. He kept his hands to himself, kneading them nervously. Shit. This was the clear opposite of what he had anticipated. The two of you had never fought, and hearing your voice, sounding so deeply upset, scared him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” you asked.

“I’m sorry, I thought you wanted to make out- “ he said.

“I don’t mean just now. I mean…what is it you’re trying to achieve by acting all possessive over me in front of random guys? Pretending I belong to you? But the second a pretty girl is in front of you I’m just a friend, aren’t I? What’s that about?”

There was no explaining this, and he knew it. Yet, he would try, pathetically. “I just thought you didn’t want those guys bothering you.”

“I can handle a guy by myself, thank you,” you snapped. “If I needed help, I’d ask. Like you did. Apparently, I’m good enough to be used as an escape from your ex, but when hot Minji came around you wouldn’t even blink when I got up and left.”

“Usedas an escape?” he asked in disbelief. “You didn’t have to kiss me, but you did anyway.”

“That’s because I was trying to be a good fucking friend!” you yelled now, sounding over the music from the party.

“You used me too, don’t you remember?” he countered. “Or did you not show up on my doorstep after your terrible date so I would fuck you and make you feel better?”

You looked taken aback for a moment, knowing he was right, in a way.

“It’s like you’re always trying to get away from me, but you can’t,” he said.

“Oh, fuck you!” you said, every trace of guilt washed away. “Get off your high horse! Isn’t that the whole point of us? That we’re using each other for sex? Nothing more than that, right? If I walked out now, you could go and find the next girl in line to take over instead of me. Didn’t you try to see someone while I was chatting to the guy I went on a date with? It’s all about using people, isn’t it? If things with the guy had gotten more serious for me, you’d have her, ready for you. Don’t you think that’s a little messed up? Leading someone on like that?”

There was truth to your words. He had tried to find someone to date, should you have found someone too and your friends-with-benefits relationship had been over. But he hadn’t led her on. He had been honest in letting the girl know he wasn’t sure if he wanted anything serious. His chest was hurting, and the pain was only making him more furious.

“Yeah, I could have switched you for her,” he said coldly. Was he only trying to hurt you now? Perhaps, but you had hurt him first.

“Right, because that’s all I am to you,” you said, quieter than before.

“That was our plan! You’re my fuck buddy, nothing more!” he raised his voice now, tired of your empty words and signs. “You have no right to accuse me of anything when I’m playing by the rules. The rules you made. Maybe we should go back to the beginning. Start the game over. I don’t even know what we’re arguing about right now.”

“Start over?”

“Go back to when we were just horny for each other and nothing else,” he said, as if that would be possible. As if he could ignore the way your eyes shined, even in the dim light coming from the streetlamps outside. Like he could pretend he didn’t want to hold you and make you forget all about this terrible fight.

“Fine, let’s try,” you said, and he watched in astonishment, as you closed the gap between the two of you. When you tilted your head, he gave you permission by doing the same. When you kissed, with teeth clashing and exhausted sighs mixing up, he swore there were bombs going off somewhere in his head. Alarm bells, too. This was by no means a great idea. But what could have stopped him and his hungry mouth? He backed you against the wall and pressed you into it, hard. Before he had registered it, his hands were pushing up the fabric of your dress and you moaned, sounding so beautiful he could barely believe it. One of his thighs forced its way between your legs while he gripped your waist like his life depended on it.

But then, just as rapidly you had begun to kiss him, you pushed him away. His lungs felt tight when he noticed the affliction and confusion on your face. He wished he could make it go away. But he had caused it, so now his presence only made things worse.

“No- no, I change my mind. This is fucking stupid,” you said. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Y/N,” he said in a gentle tone. Somehow, it seemed that his careful voice hurt you most of all.

“I think we should stop. All of this,” you said. He was beginning to shake his head in disbelief, but you cut him off. “We said there wouldn’t be jealousy, but there obviously is. We should have stopped long ago.”

“But what about starting the game again, from the beginning?” he asked, too afraid of what you would say to even look at you. If you were going to rip out his heart you should have done so quickly, when he wasn’t paying too close attention.

“The game’s over. This is going over both of our heads,” you said. “I- I’m going to go home now.”

So this was heartbreak. H/N had never considered that it could be meant so literally. But he could swear that the muscle inside his chest was convulsing and shriveling as if you had stolen the blood that kept him alive right from his arteries. The pain was sharp like a thousand cuts had been inflicted on his skin, and he struggled for words like your words had taken every of his most elemental abilities.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said.

“No,” you said. “You’re drunk. You’re the one who could need someone to walk you home. And I don’t want you around me right now. Get home safely.”

That was it. No hug. No last, longing look. Just your words stabbing like knives and your ethereal beauty as you turned on your heel and walked from the room, leaving him behind, bleeding out by himself. What had he done?

#optional bias #prism.nw #kpoptopia #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop angst #bts scenarios #kpop fanfiction #exo scenarios #bts angst #nct scenarios #txt scenarios #txt angst #stray kids angst #stray kids scenarios #the boyz scenarios #the boyz angst #optional bias scenarios #pentagon scenarios #pentagon angst #day6 scenarios #enhypen scenarios #enhypen angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen angst #n.flying scenarios #sf9 scenarios #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez fanfic

[val-writesstuff]

Broken noses and bloody knuckles

Chapter 4 of love and shadow

Chapter 3 here

Chapter 2 here

Chapter 1 here

TAGLIST MASTERLIST

A/n im so incredibly sorry that this episode took so long. i rewrote it like 5 times before i decided it was okay enough to share with people lol

Azriel's pov

With one hand on her waist, I pulled her close as I gazed into her stunning eyes. I could lose myself staring at her, she is perfect. I couldn’t explain why I was drawn to her but I knew I didn’t wanna fight it.

“I think about you…” I trailed off as she peppered kisses along my jaw.

By the cauldron I want her, I don’t care who knows how I feel. I’ve never felt this way about anybody like my heart ached when she wasn’t near and when we were in the same room I struggled to focus on anything other than her.

Pulling her against me, my lips crashed into hers and we kissed until we had to break for air. She hopped up and I held onto her as her legs wrapped around my waist. I cupped her cheek as I stared into her eyes.

“Are you sure about-” I was cut off as she kissed me again. I smiled into the kiss as I walked us over to my bed. I lay on the bed with her above me. I groaned as she shifted on my lap, grinding against me. My hands found their way under her shirt and I gently ran my fingertips up her sides.

“You’re wearing too many clothes…” she muttered as she stripped her top off and flung it to the floor. I took in a sharp breath as I stared at her body.

Before I could do anything else my stomach lurched and I felt like I was sinking through the bed towards the earth. I jerked forward and I was sitting up in my bed. The whole thing had been some dream. Was I so obsessed that I was dreaming of her now?

===

I awoke gasping for air and covered in sweat. I pushed my hair out of my face as I looked around the room like I could find the culprit for my dream. I could admit Azriel was attractive, everybody here was, but I had never had thoughts like that about anybody before. I contemplated what it meant as I peeled myself from the sheets of the bed and headed for a shower.

I turned my face up and let the hot water run down my body. I stayed in there, just relaxing until the water started to cool. I knew I would be late for breakfast but I still took my time to brush my hair and get dressed. With a clean body and a clear mind, I was finally ready to go downstairs and join everybody if they were still there.

Surprisingly they all still were sat around the table talking. I silently slid into my usual seat next to Azriel. Something about being near him always made me feel calm, and like nothing could hurt me.

He turned to look at me and slid me a hot cup of coffee. I looked at his hands and tried to ignore the thoughts in the back of my mind about how good they felt touching my body. I was broken out of my daydream by the sound of Feyre choking on her coffee. She quickly regained her composure and stared at me with raised eyebrows.

Fuck. I lowered my gaze as I took a long sip of my drink. Feyre are you in my head? I thought I was getting better at this mental barrier thing.

“I’m sorry dear, you are getting better but you were also practically screaming it.” She lightly slapped Rhysand’s shoulder next to her as he chuckled and looked between me and Azriel.

I felt Azriel turn towards me but I kept my gaze fixed to my hands as I picked at my nails and cuticles, thankful when Mor broke the awkward silence that blanketed the room. “I feel like I’m missing something. Did something happen?”

Feyre patted my shoulder as she dragged her husband to a different room. “Nope. Nothing happened.”

I muttered to myself about how it wasn’t fair some people could read minds as I got up and began helping Mor clean the table, avoiding Cassian still shoving food in his face. I had learned since getting here that being like this had its pros and cons, one of those cons being constantly hungry. When I was finished cleaning up, I sat down next to Cassian and waited for him to be finished. When he finally cleaned his plate and leaned back in his chair he raised an eyebrow at me.

“I want to accept your offer. I'm willing to do anything you want me to.” I clasped my hands in my lap and leaned eagerly towards him. I noticed Azriel cock his head and heard Mor giggle behind me. “I want you to train me to fight.” I clarified before anybody had a chance to make a dirty joke. Cassian was an expert at finding innocent things to make inappropriate.

“Listen, if this has anything to do with our impending doom, you don’t need to get involved. This is our fight, not yours.”

“Cass, I know I haven’t been here as long as you guys have, and you might not feel the same that I do, but I’ve come to think of you guys almost like family-” Azriel huffed as he got up from his chair and rushed out. “-and if you’re facing an impending doom then so am I. Besides…” I leaned back in my chair and took a deep breath. “I’ve wanted to learn how to defend myself for years but there was no way for me to learn. So really you’d be doing me a favor and I would totally owe you for it.”

At that, he stood and smiled. “Alright, I’ll take you up on that, if and only if, you still want to deal with me after flying with Az. I’m not as nice of a teacher as he is.” Before I could ask him what he meant he had left the dining room and I was left alone with a very silent Mor.

She gave me a little smirk and a nod before she too left me alone sitting at the table confused.

===

When it was finally time to train with Azriel I had started super excited. Unfortunately for my body, Azriel pushed me harder than he ever had before. Just when I was starting to think I did something to upset him, and that the ground looked like a great place to lay down, he surprised me.

I was laying spread out on the ground panting for air when he crouched next to me and grinned like a madman. “I think you’re ready.”

It took a moment for his words to sink in. I propped up on my elbows and studied his face, looking for any sign that he was joking. Once I deemed him truthful, he helped me stand up and he prepped me for my first ever flight.

As I soared through the sky, all the exhaustion rolled off my shoulders and I felt reinvigorated. Hours went by in what felt like minutes as we flew side by side through clouds and over mountains and the water.

When we finally landed back at the house I was shaking with adrenaline even though my body felt like it was made of jelly. I held onto Az’s arm and leaned into him to keep myself from collapsing to the floor. “That was the best thing I’ve ever felt. It felt like... Like…” I stuttered as I struggled to find a way to describe the euphoria I felt in the sky.

“He gave me a sad smile as he helped lead me to a chair to sit down. “Like home? Like the safest place, you’ll ever be? I remember what flying for the first time feels like…” He trailed off as he sat next to me and looked at his scarred hands.

I slipped my hand into his and kissed the back of his hand. “You’ve gone through such terrible things in your past and I’m so sorry for that. But if you can, look at the good things that came from tragedy…If you hadn’t been forced to endure the things you had, you would be a completely different person. I don’t know about you but I rather enjoy the person you are now. I’m glad you are who you are, and you have such a wonderful group to be there for you and support you. I can only imagine what it must feel like to be loved unconditionally…”

And for the first time since I had met him, he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t read and he pulled me into a tight hug. “And I’m sorry for whatever you had to endure in your life, (y/n).”

I quickly pulled away and crossed my arms. “I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. Nothing has happened to me. My life is great, couldn’t ask for anything better.”

He sighed and looked away. “It’s okay if you don’t wanna talk about it with me. I get how hard it can be but I hope you know I'm here for you if you want me.”

“I said nothing happened!” I snapped a little harshly, flinching at my voice I muttered a small sorry as I turned on my heel and headed off to the training pit I knew Cassian would be waiting for me in.

===

Cassian had wanted to start with something light and easy but when he saw me standing there, shaking with rage he changed the lesson plan. Cassian wrapped my fists and then adorned some weird mitt-looking things on his hands and told me to punch them. And I did, I punched his hands, again and again, changing my stance when he told me to. Eventually, he shut up and just let me hit him for as long as I needed. Suddenly he brought his hands down and took a step forward to talk to me, before I had time to stop myself I was lurching forwards and had punched his face. He ripped the mitts off his hands and staggered back as he held his face.

I gasped and took a wary step back “Fuck! I’m so sorry Cass! I didn't mean to hit you, I’m so sorry.”

I stood there shocked and rambling my apologies for a moment more before he uncovered his face. He had a shit-eating grin and his nose was at a weird angle. “Well, you’ve certainly got the strength and…” he held my hands and I looked down at my knuckles covered in blood. “The perseverance. I say we call it a day and get you fixed up.”

I pulled my hands away and pointed at his nose. “I think you’re the one who should get fixed up. It looks broken, again sorry.”

With a sickening pop, he grabbed the bridge of his nose and shoved it back into place. “Not the worst that’s happened to me in training. Feyre once burned straight through the mitts. Like her, you had some frustrations that needed getting out. I hope you’re feeling better?”

I shook my hands out and nodded. “I’m fine, it doesn’t even hurt. But I think I need to talk to Azriel and apologize…”

He chucked and cracked his neck. “Why, did you punch him too? Thought you’d be excited for your first fly around Velaris.”

“How did you know I flew?”

“Oh, you know, shadows like to gossip.”

I gasped and gripped his arm. “Can you understand them too?”

He shook his head causing some of his to fall free of his bun and land in his face. “No, not at all. I just saw you. Why? Can you understand them?”

I let go of his arm and turned away to look at the sun beginning to descend in the sky. “I’m not sure. Azriel said I had the ability to understand languages that others didn’t, but I’m not sure that includes sentient shadows. It’s weird though. When they’re around I hear this sound like people are talking but they’re just a bit far away so all I hear is whispering but I can’t make out what it is that they’re saying.”

‘Maybe you should talk to Azriel about that too after you apologize for whatever you did.” I gave Cassian a small hug before I rushed off in search of Azriel.

@vivihyde0408

@annabethgranger123

#Azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #shadowsinger #acotar #acotar fandom #x reader #illyrian #a court of thorns and roses #feyre archeron #high lady Feyre #feyre cursebreaker

[peachsayshi]

Chapter 13 - Spinning

Tags: Friends with Benefits, Smut, Angst

Summary: You and Gojo are caught up in your feelings and he unintentionally breaks another rule. 

A/N: (18+ / minors and ageless blogs dni) New chapter! This is a bit of a filler chapter but I am working up to some dramatic things (smut and angst coming up!) plus revealing some of the secrets that happened in the timeline 👀 I hope you enjoy it! And as always comments are appreciated ☺️

- - - 

Sitting cross legged on your bedroom floor, you proceeded to fold the fresh laundry into perfectly neat piles. Music enveloped your room, the bass from your speaker bouncing off the walls as you mindlessly hummed along to the track that was playing. This is how you were choosing to unwind after a long work week, by organizing and cleaning up your apartment. There was something completely cathartic about resetting your space and you found yourself having plenty of free time on your hands recently.

Gojo has been exceptionally busy. At first there was an itch when you began seeing less of him, the two of you would plan to get together but that consistently kept getting cancelled. Eventually those plans transitioned to you agreeing on catching up with one another once things settled. Now it seems the only time you managed to hear from your friend was with sporadic phone calls and random text messages that he would send you at weird hours. The itch slowly turned into an ache, that familiar knot in your stomach making its presence known more often than usual.

There was something about the way he managed to fill the silence. You always gave him a hard time about talking your ear off but realised that he actually entertained you with some great conversations.

Even though half the time he was talking about ridiculous subject matters…

You had to hand it to Satoru though, he always spoke with such enthusiasm he would make the concept of paint drying seem fascinating.

He was fascinating.

Eight years of friendship have taught you that but you were smart enough not to feed his ego. Despite the two of you being close, Gojo still never fully let you in. You couldn’t deny that you were intrigued by him, curious to know more about the strongest sorcerer who seemed totally unphased by his own title whenever he was around you. You wanted to know more about how he fought off curses and protected people from the evils that seemed to be invisible in your eyes. Although he consistently evaded your questions, he did slowly open up about other things. You particularly loved the way his face let up when he talked about his students and it made you realise that if there was anything Gojo Satoru had committed himself to, it was his role as an instructor to the next generation of sorcerers.

Still, you usually tried to pry information out of him when the two of you would get lost in deep conversation, noticing the way Gojo would drift in his own thoughts whenever the subject seemed to focus on him.

Clearly there was an extent to which the man loved talking about himself.

There was a point when he spoke where you saw his face grow pensive as he brought up an old friend. He referenced him in passing but the way his mouth fell pained you just as much as it seemed to hurt him. Your question was on the tip of your tongue, eager to learn more about the people within his own circle, but Satoru immediately shifted the conversation onto something else.

That wall, much like his infinity, is impenetrable.

Unfortunately, the dynamics were in his favor. You wished that you could conceal your own emotions as easily around him but it was impossible. Gojo had the capability of knowing exactly how you were thinking and feeling at any given second. His incredible perception was his advantage, that’s why he is able to gauge your reactions so well.

You smiled subconsciously to yourself, goosebumps floating up to your shoulders when you realised how much you wanted your arms wrapped around his neck, your body pressing into his chest while breathing that spicy, sweet cologne…

Stop it.

You paused your action, the jeans on your lap in a mid-fold as you froze in place and your brain instantly turned off those dangerous ideas.  

You swallowed your own emotions, your abdomen tight when you realised that you had just spent the last ten minutes having intimate thoughts about Gojo.

You really shouldn’t but there was something about the way he acts around you that made you the slightest bit curious as to what he was thinking and how he was feeling.

How often did you cross his mind and did he even miss you as much as you did him?

At some point the two of you were going to have to stop this little game you were playing. Even though you weren’t seeking it out at the moment, you do want to settle down eventually with somebody you love. Satoru made it perfectly clear where he stood on relationships. He had no desire to get involved with anybody and the concept of marriage was something he completely rejected.

You recalled having a conversation with him about: 

“Are you really telling me that you’re okay living as a bachelor for the rest of your life?”

“Happily, actually…” Gojo replied, while you both continued your heated debate on the prospects of love.

“But why are you so against it?”

"I have my reasons,” he replied with a shrug.

Satoru always seemed to have a reason for everything but he was not willing to share it with you, leaving you in moments like this to analyze the little things he says to try and put the pieces together yourself.

Truthfully, you don’t want to stop as you found yourself fixated on this new…friends with benefits-ship…

Everything about it felt so good that you couldn’t even remember what things were like before you started hooking up.

How could you go back to just being friends after he’s seen you in your most vulnerable state? How were you supposed to pretend that his hands haven’t unraveled you into submission time and time again? How could you sit next to him without thinking about kissing him for hours on end? How were you supposed to listen to him talk without remembering the moments where he would whisper angel in your ear?

How the hell did you manage to keep your hands off him before this even started?

There was always the unspoken fact that you found each other attractive but since this new dynamic has started the two of you were like magnets whenever you were in close proximity to one another.

Well, you were able to keep the barrier because you were in a happily committed relationship with Haru, you interjected and suddenly you found yourself slumping your shoulders.

Haru was in love with you. He gave you the companionship you needed, he filled the silence with mindless conversations and was the one who held you when you needed him. He was the one to swallow your cries with soft kisses, that made you laugh in hysterics when you needed to boost your mood…

Your heart stopped, realizing that you were seeking out what Haru gave you with Gojo. Your gut wrenching at the idea of you using your friend to fill the emotional gap that Haru left. This ache that knotted your insides meant nothing and you were letting your thoughts confuse you into thinking that you were missing Gojo.

All you needed was to get your distraction back.

After all, Gojo is just your friend.

You had no reason to think anything else could come of this and burned any other thought about Satoru from crossing your mind for the rest of the evening.

If you even thought for a second that you might be falling for him, you would cut ties immediately. You weren’t going to put a strain on your friendship because you’re silly ideals were getting in the way of your agreement.

The two of you were just fucking.

Nothing more, nothing less.

***

Gojo studied the woman before him, acknowledging the fact that she is one of the most stunning individuals he had ever laid his eyes on. She was older than him by ten years but if it wasn’t for the age on her online profile, he wouldn’t have been able to tell.

She was tall, meeting his own towering height, give or take a few inches. Her long, pin straight hair flowed to her hips, accentuating her curves and covering her supple breasts. Her face could strike down any man that looked at her with those deep eyes and he was tempted to nibble on her full lips. Seeing her in person made Gojo realize that her price was high for a reason and totally justifiable.

Anyone would pay extra to fuck a goddess.

Somehow, he wound up here thanks to his own frustrations. His desire for you was driving him wild and his own hands weren’t enough to solve this problem. He still respected the rules that were unbroken and knew that as long as he didn’t go too far with Ami, he was fine. He wasn’t going to have sex with her but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t help him out with his current predicament in other ways.

Besides, you did tell him that he was allowed to see other people. However, that didn’t stop his stomach from twisting at the thought of climbing into bed with someone other than you. He couldn’t quite figure out what this awkward sensation was or why he was bothered by his own decision to meet up with Ami in the first place.

Gojo stripped down to his boxers before sitting on the edge of her satin covered mattress. She was admiring him with amusement, the tempting smile on her lips telling him that she was also enjoying what she was seeing.

“You paid for a full hour but said that you might not be here for that long. Did something urgent come up?” she questioned, her voice sensually low and sending a shiver up Gojo’s spine.

My she is dangerous, he thought to himself, knowing full well how this entire experience would go under different circumstances.

The circumstances being, well, you.

“I don’t plan on sticking around too long...” he explained.

“I’ll have to adjust your pay accordingly then,” she replied, taking a few steps forward until she was standing in front of him.

“I don’t mind paying for the full hour,” Gojo teased with a grin, his free hand moving to touch her silky hair as he rubbed it between his fingers.

She smiled, nearly taking his breath away as she brought her finger to the blindfold covering his eyes.

“I don’t like accepting money for free,” she  stated, tracing her touch down his chiseled jawline. “I bet you’re handsome but I am guessing you don’t plan on taking this thing off to show me what you really look like.”

“Yep,” Gojo smiled as Ami proceeded to slide across her bed next to him. "And you guessed right, I’ve got an exceptionally pretty face.”

“Cocky too,” she purred, “there’s a special way I treat guys like you…”

Gojo hummed, switching his position so he was lying back against her pillows. Ami crawled her body over his lean torso, her hands rubbing up and down his thigh as she glanced in his direction.

“Oh, yeah? I would love to see how...” Gojo insisted, his breath growing heavy as she guided her hand all the way to his mouth.

She traced his bottom lip with her thumb, a devious mask highlighting her stunning features as she spoke, “Be a good boy and lie back while I take care of you…”

He fully caved, allowing this sultry siren to take control by touching and teasing his body however she pleased. Gojo usually enjoyed relinquishing his power every now and then but for whatever reason it was taking some effort for him to fully immerse himself with what was happening. Ami straddled his cock, before proceeding to press her mouth against his. Her lips were working fervently over his own as she deepened the kiss, but the spark that he needed just wasn’t igniting.

When Ami flicked her tongue over his, he would only think about the sensation of yours. The taste of you in his mouth lingered like an addictive poison. One that he craved every single time you crossed his mind. The sound of your moans played in his ear and the sweet way you called out his name when he touched you between your legs filtered his brain. He was only brought back to the reality that it wasn’t you pushing your body against his, when Ami wrapped her fingers around his throat. He tried to erase you and focus on the woman before him but was persistently failing.

She could see that something was off from how he was responding to her caresses. “Are you sure you're up for this tonight, baby?” Ami teased, whispering into his mouth as she snagged his bottom lip between her teeth. “You don’t seem ready for me...”

“Fuck…” Gojo grunted out of frustration, knocking his head back as he pressed his fingers to his temple. “It’s not you, I’m just distracted…”

“What’s on your mind?” she continued, stroking his broad chest lovingly to try and coax him out of the daze he was in.

“Not what...who…” he responded shyly, his cheeks blushing ever so slightly by his admittance.

“I see…” she cooed, “Wife? Girlfriend?”

Gojo scoffed, a comical laugh escaping him as he shook his head.

“Definitely not.”

Ami pressed her lips together, her nail doodling along his upper body with random figures as she continued to question her intriguing client.

“Tell me about her…”

Gojo froze, his hands digging into Ami’s thighs upon hearing her bold question, “she’s just a friend. There’s nothing to say...”

“Is she beautiful?”

“She’s gorgeous,” Gojo exhaled, his words passing his lips faster than he could process what he had just said. Ami tracked her hands down between her legs, stroking his boxers as she massaged his length.

“Tell me what she looks like…”

He described you in detail, from your sinfully sweet lips to the beautiful sound of your laughter and how soft your skin felt in his hands. She continued tricking him into revealing the intimate thoughts that swirled in his mind when he thought about you. She heard the way Gojo’s voice wavered as he swelled between her hands, the tip of his cock poking through his underwear as the pre-cum stained the material of his boxers. Ami pulled the clothing away from his hips, hands returning to grip his member as she continued stroking up and down his shaft.

“Do you think about fucking her with the other women you meet?”

“Yes,” Gojo revealed through gritted teeth, swallowing hard as she played with his tip by circling his thumb over the slit of his cock.

“How often?”

“Too often,” the sorcerer hissed, his hips bucking into her hands.

“I bet you wish you were fucking her right now, don’t you?”

She saw how turned on he is and how easily the thought of you brought him close to his release. Ami spread her legs, adjusting her stance until she brought the tip of his cock to her entrance. Gojo hesitated, knowing that he needed to stop what was about to happen. This wasn’t supposed to go this far. He was only here for a quick hand job or blowjob, but he couldn’t suppress a satisfied moan as she slid down to take in his length.

“F-fuck, wai-...”

“Shh, baby, close your eyes and think of your sweet angel…” Ami whispered in his ear, making Gojo roll his blue irises to the back of his head as he relaxed into her touch.

She didn’t speak after that, fulfilling her promise of taking care of him but also ensuring that his focus was solely on the mental image of you. The sound of her skin bouncing up and down his length took over the entire room. The way Ami stated that you were his was enough to send him over the edge and it didn’t take long until he climaxed at the thought, quickly pulling out of her and releasing hot ropes of cum all over her stomach but imagining that it was you the entire time. She immediately cleaned herself up after they finished, before giving Gojo some privacy and allowing him to get himself together.

After he got dressed, he pulled out his phone to transfer the payment. He doubled the amount he was supposed to give, totally aware that she didn’t reach her own release and was disappointed in himself that he couldn’t pleasure the remarkable temptress before him.

He slipped on his boots, his mind racing as the guilt rushed right through him. He hated that broke another rule, especially since this particular one was a boundary you set for your own comfort. He was angry at himself that he disrespected that and was annoyed for crossing the line in the first place.

What the fuck is wrong with me?, he thought to himself.

“I told you I don’t get paid for doing nothing. I don't accept money like that, not even from spoiled rich boys like you,” Ami stated, her words stung but she spoke in such a gentle tone that didn’t offend the sorcerer. She was leaning against the wall as she appeared before him, her body now covered with just a pink robe.

“You got me off but I did nothing to reciprocate. I tell all the other girls to charge double if that happens.”

“How considerate,” she mused before arching her brow in delight at him, “but for the sake of my own conscience I feel like I need to give you something in return…”

Gojo stood up from his seat, smoothing out his clothes before approaching her slowly. Even though he got what he wanted out of this arrangement, he was feeling worse about himself the longer he stayed in this room.

“How about a piece of advice before you leave and we can call it even?” Ami questioned.

“What is it?” the sorcerer wondered, hearing her feet patter against the carpet as she followed his footsteps to her front door.

She paused when she reached for the handle, before tilting her face and directing her full attention towards his covered eyes.

“Tell your friend how you feel or cut off whatever it is you’re doing. If you don’t tell her then you’re fucked, plain and simple.”

“Look, what happened just now doesn’t mean anything…”

She raised her fingers to his lips, stopping him from even attempting to defend what transpired.

“Don’t take this the wrong way but you’re easy to read. I have had clients come here trying to forget their lovers and those who come to see me because they can’t resist their own primative urges. I see the ones who are lonely, who only visit me for companionship and nothing more. Then there are the ones who are like you, who will bury themselves in any cunt they see just to pretend that they aren’t in love with somebody else…”

Gojo clenched his jaw, squeezing his hands together as the heat rose up to his face.

“You don't know what you're talking about. Besides, wanting to fuck somebody and being in love are two very different things.”

“True, except those two things are tangled up in one person when it comes to you…”

Gojo pressed his lips into a thin line, unsure as to why her accusation made him so irritated.

“Awww, don’t get angry, pretty boy. It’s unbecoming for somebody as handsome as you are…” Ami whispered, before kissing him on the cheek as she said her goodbye. “It’s okay, I promise that your secret is safe with me…”

*** 

CHAPTER 14: JEALOUSY

#Gojo Satoru #Gojo Satoru x female reader #Gojo Satoru x reader #gojo x female reader #Gojo Satoru x female reader #Gojo Satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo smut #gojo fluff #gojo angst #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanficiton #jujutsu kaisen x reader