#& they fall in love behind the kings unaware eyes

[rinzler-smoocher]

Feeling helpless & like shit. Have another Flint x Rinz set up because I have nothing else going on for me but making slightly altered AUs lol

Flint is taken as Clu's "bride" though he's more of just the Luminary's pet on a leash. Rinzler is his body guard and tuens into Flint's only friend. Things change from there.

Learning of Clu's plans for insurrection against Flynn, Flint attempts to find his allies and escape with his fellow user outside of the Grid, but his escape is interrupted by Clu and his forces. Flint's captured and dragged off, totally isolated from the world outside as Clu makes his move...

Now, since the Grid has finally begun settling after Clu's violent coming to power, Flint is still trapped within the program's vile clutches. He's had his admin privileges taken away, his identity disc & batons & weapons stored under lock & key, and has been made into Clu's special pet.

Flint's begrudgingly dragged around from event to event to showcase just how far the almighty users have fallen, taunting Flynn to come out of hiding to rescue his old ally. But, no one ever shows.

Depressed & distressed beyond belief, Flint has become nothing but a pretty piece of arm candy for Clu & a point of mockery from the digital civilization in which he's now a prisoner. He went from being a spunky ball of spitfire, trying to break away from Clu & save himself from his own dilemma, but after having his spirit broken by the all-powerful luminary, Flint's given up. He has guards constantly watching him at all times, unless he's cowering alone in his opulent prison chamber. He has no privacy beyond when he's locked in his room after Clu is done with Flint for the evening.

He is truly alone. He has nothing. And he has no one.

After trying something new to take his own life when he was locked in his own room for rest one cycle with no one watching ovwr his every breath - though he was interrupted before being able to finally inflict the deady strike with the sharpened implement he crafted by hand -, Clu realizes his pretty little pet needs a security presence at all times. And considering the Grid is [mostly] secure in his new leadership, Clu donates his head enforcer to watching over his favorite prisoner of war that he's taken to be his other half.

Rinzler has been bored with all the nothing going on & found little excitement in his day to day duties, except when he's thrown into the games to take out some last remaining beacons of "hope" that still remain after the users have been defeated. As Clu's bloody right hand, it'd a no-brainer that Rinz is assigned to be Flint's bodyguard.

At this point, Flint hasn't left his bed in days, has refused to imbibe any energy and is basically trying to exhaust himself and pursuade his body to give in to natural death. He's been humiliated & is ashamed of what he's become at Clu's demand, a pawn in his game to win over the Grid and a toy for the lookalike program to torture any way he wants whenever he so feels.

Upon Clu's introduction to the looming force standing at Flint's bedside, Rinz is commanded to keep the user alive by any means necessary. To force him to take energy, to not be able to take his own life, and not allow harm from any others to come his way either.

It's basic commands & easy enough to follow, so when Clu leaves them, locking both user & beast in the room together, that's when Rinz realizes what a handful he has with Flint.

Despite being exhausted and nearly on death's door, Flint is argumentative & difficult, fighting against Rinz in any way possible and refusing to leave the confines of his bed. When, after a particularly cruel force of strength to just force energy down his throat, Flint gets ill &, through gasping breaths & sobs as the bright blue liquid pours back from his mouth, Flint asks Rinz to either kill him now or leave him alone. The program is... somehow shaken and steps backwards, having broken one of the basic lines of protocol embedded in his code.

《Do not cause harm to the user.》

Rinzler draws away for the remaining part of the night cycle, with some unknown process running deep within his programming, & watches & waits as Flint fades between sleep & awakening, before...

Trying something different.

When Flint comes back into consciousness, he's weak & less snappy, but he notices right away how Rinz stands at his side, attentive & almost deep in thought as the user shuffles into an upright position. Rinzler tilts his head, as if asking a question, before offering a glass of energy. No fighting, no aggression, just a simple gesture after all this time of being crushed in Clu's tight grip.... Flint accepts it & studies Rinzler carefully all the while.

What starts out as Flint just bearing with Rinzler's company at every moment of time, turns into quiet companionship. After that one time of forcing liquid down Flint's throat, Rinzler stays far from attempting any more actions of violence. His very nature demands carnage and destruction, but some overriding line within his very being holds him fast, keeps him calm, and makes the beast enjoy the peace.

Flint starts talking to his silent guard about everything and anything. Rinzler isn't capable of returning words, bit he listens attentively as Flint tells his life story or about the comic collection he has at home - and will probably never see again - or of visiting his family abroad and wishing he never left his homeland.

Truly, Flint has no way of knowing if the monster actually understands him or if he's listening, but for a change, to have someone not violently force Flint to do something against his own will, it's refreshing and nice. He absolutely sees the deadly assassin as his closest ally.

But

One night after Clu throws the user carelessly back to Rinzler's watch late in the night cycle, Flint is weeping & appears wounded, though he bears no visible injuries. Whatever it was was that caused this was something dreadfully serious & made a fire burn hatefully in Rinzler's data, but he can't process what may have occurred. Still, he needs to care for his ward.

When the door shuts in on them, locking them in Flint's gilded cage, the user falls against the program, sobbing & clutching onto his armor plating. It's as natural as drawing his disc to fight that Rinz finds himself holding onto the user until the worst of his tears subside. He eventually guides Flint to his bedding, but he ardently refuses to lay down unless Rinzler will join him.

Confused, Rinz acquiesces and finds in no time at all, the user is quietly snoring in his hold.

Rinz never finds out what exactly Clu did to Flint that night, but it eats at him for cycles on.

Things naturally develop further from there. Flint & Rinzler bond & become closer & closer in their private shared prison. Clu only sees a happier "bride" and his loyal enforcer. During games when Rinz competes, Flint is at the edge of his seat, breathing sharply with each erratic move his friend makes, and finds himself breathless when Rinz turns his way at the end of each game as if to say "Yes, I'm still here."

Eventually, things change. Whether snapping from realizing what his leader had been doing to his user, or by suddenly coming to grips with how much the user means to him, but either way, Rinz's claws and discs are engaged and ready to chop Clu into tiny bits.

But, as ready & primed as he was to kill, Rinz was too late.

Suddenly catching a spike of fear that only came to him when Flint was in danger, Rinzler raced down the hallways until he mowed down the guards positioned at Clu's throne room & burst inside to find...

Flint sitting on the ground & holding Clu's identity disc. His eyes are tearing up, he has a bruise across his cheek, and his suit is rippex and torn in multiple areas with burning cuts going through his flesh while he sits calmly among golden pixilated voxels, scattered over the ground. His eyes seem empty but his mouth quirks into a smile as he docks Clu's disc.

"It's done," Flint said firmly. "Let's get the hell out of here."

[pogueprincess]

My Sister’s Keeper

summary: Aemond intends to send you away to protect you after he starts the war, but Aegon isn't ready to let you go.

pairing: Aegon & Aemond x Sister!Reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: Explicit smut, mention of death, incest, threesome, p in v sex, oral (m&f receiving), voyeurism, male masturbation, infidelity (reader is married to Aemond), lactation kink, choking, cum play/eating, spit, Aegond kiss!! (oop) 18+ MDNI

note: Uhhhh. I'm sorry??? I feel like I just breezed through this, idk I was horny lol. Feedback is appreciated!

You’ll never forget the look on Aemond’s face when he first arrived back to the Red Keep from his journey to Storm’s End. Your family was desperate in the inevitable, upcoming war against Rhaenyra so Aemond had been sent to help strike up a proposal between one of Lord Borros’ daughters and the youngest son of the late king Viserys, Daeron Targaryen.

Sitting in the large bed of your shared chamber, you had been anxiously awaiting his arrival, chewing your fingernails down to bloody nubs.

“Aemond!” you practically leapt into his arms when he appeared sopping wet in the doorway. Overjoyed to see he’d returned in one piece, but something was off, something was wrong. He was vacant, like he had seen a ghost.

“Lucerys Velaryon is dead.”

With that simple sentence you knew your lives would be changed forever.

“You cannot just make me disappear,” you said to your husband through gritted teeth, as your voice trembled, lump in your throat forming as tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

“If we are not here they will just go looking for us.”

“Anywhere is safer than here, my love.” Aemond answered coolly.

“If you think this decision was not difficult to make, you are wrong. It is simply what's best for the both of you. You and the babe will be staying in Dorne until I know for certain that it is safe for you here.”

“But –”

“But nothing! This is not up for debate,” he growled at you, “the decision has been made and it is final!” His words cut through you like a knife.

“You cannot make a decision like this. You are not the king.”

“No “ he retorted, “but I am your husband, therefore, when it comes to you and my child, what I say goes!”

You got up and exited your shared chambers with haste, not wanting Aemond to see you cry.

Your bare feet padded against the cold stone floor of the Red Keep, the walls echoed and groaned as you made your way to your eldest brother’s chambers.

Aegon’s head perked up when he heard you come in. He stared at you sheepishly from behind his goblet of wine.

“Has he told you?”

Letting out a deep sigh, “he has.”

“I cannot leave you. I will not leave you, Aegon.”

“I know, I know,” he says, patting the spot next to him, motioning for you to come and sit.

“Our half-sister is unpredictable,” he replied calmly, “there’s no telling what she might do… not to mention, Daemon.”

As much as you did not want to admit it, both of your brothers were right. Accident or not, Rhaneyra’s son was dead. You would be a fool to believe she wouldn’t be out for blood.

Aegon pulled you into his lap, his cock already half hard. You kissed him deeply as he grinded his hips up into yours. You ran your fingers through his unruly silver hair, enjoying the feel of his mouth on you. Completely lost in the moment, you hadn’t heard Aemond enter the room.

He cleared his throat loudly to make his presence known.

“Aemond!”

Your brother-husband stalked into the room, his violet eye scanning over you with amusement.

“Oh please, do continue.”

Your chest rose and fell as you struggled to find the right words to say.

“Did you not hear me? I said continue,” Aemond repeated, as he approached you and Aegon.

“Aemond, this is not what it looks like —“

His brow furrowed at you as he gripped your chin forcing you to look him directly in the eye.

“Do you mistake me for a fool? You believed me to be unaware of your little arrangement?”

Still at a loss for words, you and Aegon just stared at your brother nervously. Aemond moved away a few inches and started to remove his tunic and his trousers. His cock strained hard against his small clothes, which he removed not long after. You gawked at him as he pumped his cock in his left hand, making his way back to you.

Aegon’s violet eyes beamed with excitement at this, pupils blown with lust. He took no time to nip at your neck, your earlobes, grinding against your core once again.

“I fear this is inappropriate,” you began.

“What’s inappropriate is you sneaking away from your husband to come fuck this wastrel,” Aemond began, his words thick with venom.

“Clearly, you want the both of us. So have us… while you still can.”

A slight moan left your lips as you tilted your head to the side, allowing Aegon easier access to your throat, your gaze never leaving Aemond’s, his expression unreadable as he nodded his head at you.

Aemond had his hand wrapped tightly around his cock, the tip bright red, lushed and angry, his arousal already dripping from the tip.

Aegon leaned down and wrapped his lips around your nipple, and began to suck harshly. Being that your babe was only two months old, you were lactating. A loud moan escaped your lips as you felt the milk begin to flow.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, “just like that. You’re doing so good.”

You could feel his cock twitching against your leg at your praise as he continued to ravenously lap at your breast.

As he switched to your other breast he sucked harder at your stiffened peak, the milk coming almost instantly. He palmed your abandoned breast with his large hand, squeezing gently. Shivers ran down your spine as the sweet feeling of relief washed over you once again.

A growl erupted from Aemond’s throat and he unexpectedly pulled Aegon away from your chest. To your utter surprise, he crashed his lips against Aegon’s, tasting your milk on his tongue. You watched with bewilderment as your husband passionately kissed your brother, tugging at his unruly hair, moaning into his mouth. Arousal seeped from your core and onto Aegon’s thighs. Aemond broke the kiss abruptly and stared at you.

Aegon’s hands gripped your waist, flipping you around so you were underneath him. Your eldest brother positioned you so you were laying on your back comfortably against the pillows. He nestled himself between your thighs and hastily hiked your nightgown up over your waist. You shivered as his warm breath fanned over your folds. Before you could blink his tongue was prodding at your entrance. Your hands flew to the back of his head on instinct, pulling him closer into your center.

Aemond approached you carefully. He tapped his cock against your lower lip a few times, a signal for you to open your mouth. Just as he did so, Aegon’s tongue had reached the right spot, causing your mouth to gape open as a loud moan escaped your lips. Aemond took this as an opportunity to forcefully shove his cock into your mouth. You felt a rush of pleasure as Aemond's cock filled your mouth. You began to suck and lick it, eager to make him moan even louder. Aegon's tongue continued to explore you as you pleasured Aemond, and you felt your body quiver with pleasure.

If you knew being with another man in his presence would have this effect on him, you would have brought your affair to light long ago.

With a low groan of your name he pumped in and out of your mouth mercilessly, the salty taste of his precum evading your tastebuds. The air left your lungs as you gagged around him. You could feel the pent up anger Aemond held for the entirety of the situation with each brutal buck of his hips. Ever so slowly he pulled back, giving the you the illusion he was going to give you a break. But before you were able to catch your breath, his cock found his way to the back of your throat again. The faster he went, tears began to stream down your face.

As bubbles of spit began to form around the corners of your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks to the best of your ability. With Aegon now three fingers knuckle deep in your cunt it was almost impossible for you to focus on Aemond; but as the pace of his thrusts quickened you knew he was going to cum soon. You moaned around his length, the vibrations making his cock twitch, you could feel every throb of the thick vein that ran along the underside of his cock.

“No,” Aemond growled as he pulled himself from your throat, “I need to feel your cunt around me.”

Aemond all but shoved Aegon away from you, almost knocking him off the large bed. Aemond lined his cock up with your center and sheathed himself inside of you with quickness.

As Aegon now sat on the upper left corner of the bed, he watched intently as Aemond’s cock disappeared into you repeatedly. One hand tugged at his painfully hard cock and the other wiped the tears from your cheeks.

“You’re doing so good, baby,” he cooed, “look at how you take him so well,” he praised.

You nodded your head at him enthusiastically, pleasure overwhelming you. Aegon hooked his thumb into your mouth and you sucked and nipped at it intently.

There was no doubt that Aemond enjoyed the praise as well, snapping his hips even harder into your own. His cock bullied your sweet spot mercilessly. Your body tingled with a mix of pleasure and pain as Aemond's thrusts intensified; pressing hard against your cervix. His large hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing gently. The overwhelming sensation sent waves of ecstasy coursing through you, making it difficult to focus on anything else but the raw desire consuming your every thought.

“Fuck, Aemond, I’m going to cum!” you screamed as your hot waves of pleasure coursed through you.

Aegon watched intently as your orgasm wracked your entire frame, his own following not long after. He let out a loud groan as he came into his hand. He flashed an evil grin at Aemond as he brought his fingers to Aemond's mouth, shoving them down his throat.

Your husband gagged around his digits, sucking Aegon's release from them.

As the aftershock of your orgasm continued to pump though you, your cunt squeezed around Aemond’s cock. The depravity of it all overwhelmed him and Aemond cum with a shudder. With one final thrust and a loud grunt, he was spilling himself inside of you.

As Aegon removed his fingers from your husband's throat, Aemond leaned over you, his cock still buried deep inside you.

"Open up, baby," he said before spitting directly into your mouth, a mixture of his saliva and Aegon's cum evident on your tongue. You swallowed with a contented hum.

Aemond pulled himself out of you and got up quickly.

You curled up in the bed next to Aegon, Aemond’s seed seeping out of you onto the sheets, sleep finding you almost immediately.

“She can stay here for the night,” Aemond said as he leaned down to kiss your sweat-drenched forehead.

Aegon frowned at his brother.

“Aemond, we cannot make her leave,” he rasped, desperation clear in his voice.

“I think she needs to leave now more than ever, brother. To ensure nothing like this ever happens again.”

A loud sigh escaped Aegon’s lips as he diverted his gaze from Aemond to you, pushing your hair out of your face, admiring your beauty.

“Enjoy your time with her tonight. She will be on her way to Dorne by morning.”

[amirasainz]

Can you do the leclerc brothers with sister reader and she’s like the joy of their life, kinda like the bond with amira sainz and Carlos but with the leclerc?

Of course!!! I find this is such a cute request.

Enjoy reading and send me requests!!!

-XoXo

Little Sunshine

It was no secret among the paddock that the four Leclerc siblings shared an exceptionally close bond. It was also widely known that the three older brothers—Lorenzo, Charles, and Arthur—were fiercely protective of their younger sister, YN. At just 19 years old, she was not only the youngest in their family but also the only girl, creating a perfect recipe for three overprotective brothers.

There had already been numerous occasions where the brothers had demonstrated that their sister was the center of their universe, and they would go to any lengths to ensure her happiness and safety. ANYTHING!

One particularly heartwarming moment occurred during the Silverstone Grand Prix. During this GP, the cameras captured a scene that made fans fall in love with the Leclerc family all over again. As it was raining cats and dogs outside, the Free Practice session had been red-flagged. The FIA deemed it too dangerous for the drivers to continue in such treacherous conditions. Consequently, all the drivers were confined to the garage. While most of them were engrossed in reviewing data with their engineers, taking a brief respite, or chatting with their loved ones via FaceTime, there was one notable exception: Monsieur Charles Leclerc.

Instead of poring over data with his race engineer, Charles was seated on a chair, surrounded by an impressive array of hair care products. His lovely sister YN sat in front of him, comfortably perched on a cushion, completely absorbed in a book. The cameras captured the look of intense concentration on Charles’ face. What astonished the fans the most wasn’t that no one interrupted them, but that Charles was able to execute a top-notch hair care routine for his sister’s beautiful hair with seemingly effortless precision.

Later on, when the media inquired why he didn’t engage in the same activities as the other drivers during the red flag, he responded with a nonchalant expression, “My sister has beautiful hair, and my mama is a hairdresser. Naturally, I know that her hair requires special attention during such heavy rain. I don’t even understand why you’re asking such a silly question.” Safe to say that the fans loved the sassy respons from their PR trained King

Another fan-favorite moment occurred during one of Charles’ vlogs. The Leclerc family is renowned for their cherished boat trips during the summer, and this year was no exception. The memorable incident took place while Joris was busy filming Charles, who was enthusiastically explaining some part of the boat near his two younger siblings, who were both basking in the sun. With his face turned to the camera, Charles was blissfully unaware of his older brother Lorenzo sneaking up behind him. The camera began to shake from Joris’ silent laughter. As Charles continued his explanation, Lorenzo crept closer and closer to his unsuspecting siblings. And then it happened.

One moment Charles was mid-sentence, and the next, he was unceremoniously thrown overboard into the water. Before anyone could fully process what had happened, Lorenzo had already scooped up Arthur and tossed him in next to Charles, who was now simultaneously complaining and laughing. It was anticipated that Lorenzo would also pick up their sister and throw her in with their brothers. But that’s not what transpired. Instead, Lorenzo carefully lifted his sister and carried her to the railing. He gently set her down and descended the stairs himself first, stopping on the last step.

“Careful, ma puce, the stairs are a bit slippery,” he cautioned her. Instantly, Charles and Arthur halted their water fight, now also keeping a vigilant eye on YN. With Lorenzo’s assistance, which she didn’t even need, and under the watchful eyes of her other brothers, she safely entered the water. Now it was her turn to initiate the water fight, easing the tension that had briefly filled the air. However, her brothers remained close to her, ready to offer support in case she grew tired of swimming and needed a break. And Joris? He was busy laughing his butt off the entire time.

Another memorable moment took place during the Vegas GP. Like any other American GP, this one was packed with celebrities. Being the supportive sister she is, YN attended the GP with her older brother Arthur to cheer on Charles.

While Charles was out there racing, the well-known actor Timothée Chalamet decided to shoot his shot with the pretty Monegasque girl. “Hey. What do yo—” Before he could even finish his sentence, he was met with the disapproving face of Arthur Leclerc. The youngest brother looked him up and down, raised an eyebrow, and uttered a single, final word: “No.”

Arthur then moved his sister away from Timothée’s sight and engaged her in a conversation about the new Vogue magazine she had bought that day. YN, who didn’t even realize what had just transpired, was more than happy to discuss her favorite fashion magazine.

It’s safe to say that even a blind person could see the immense love and protective instincts the three brothers have for their sister.

[rafeysbafey]

first for everything r.c

summary. rafe is the first to give you aftercare

warnings. SOFT!rafe (i can’t emphasize this enough) fem!reader, fluff fluff & fluff, mentions of sex and slight description of it in beginning, not proofread

word count. 657

rafe let himself slowly pull out of you with a groan, a whimper leaving your lips at the feeling of emptiness.

he let himself trail down your neck before cupping your face and pecking your swollen lips, climbing off the bed as he tossed the covers over your naked body.

rafe and you had a long history of bantering with one another, you being a pogue and rafe being, well, rafe.

but one thing lead to another, and you found yourself trapped under the kook king getting the life pounded out of you.

he was surprisingly softer with you than you had imagined, the word around the island being him having no care for how he treated the girls he slept with.

he didn’t care if you left bruises on their thighs or left them unable to walk for days, the only thing that mattered was getting his dick wet.

but the only thing he left on you were love bites that he made sure to plant delicately on your soft skin.

you watched as he grabbed his boxers from off the ground and left for the bathroom, the sound of water hitting the tile indicating he was starting a shower.

you weren’t a virgin with rafe, you had slept with guys before.

so you weren’t unaware of what happened after.

they would simply either fall asleep, turn to their phones, or get in the shower.

so you let your body calm down for a second before sitting up and scanning the room for your clothes.

when you spotted them, you pushed yourself off the bed with a wince and went to grab your own underwear.

as you slipped them on, going to grab your shirt, you were interrupted by rafe clearing his throat from behind you.

you quickly covered yourself with your arms causing him to laugh, his eyes falling on yours as a small smile etched its way onto his lips.

“nothing i haven’t seen,” he hummed before letting his eyebrows knit together, noticing how you were getting dressed.

“what’re you doing?”

you hesitated for a second, wondering why he was questioning your actions, before shrugging your shoulders.

“im leaving, I assumed you’re getting in the shower.”

“the showers for you,” he said quickly, immediately regretting how sappy he sounded.

your eyes widened as you waited for him to follow it up with something witty.

“like, shower sex?” you asked, causing him to scoff with a dry chuckle.

“no,” he sputtered, confused at why you were acting the way you were, “just so you can relax.”

“you’re acting like we’re a couple,” you giggled, eyes squinted as he rolled his eyes.

“it’s just proper aftercare.”

‘sure,’ he thought, rafe knowing damn well he was pushing himself further into denial.

your giggled trailed off as you gave him a confused smile, wondering what on earth he was talking about.

“after-what?”

“aftercare?” he repeated, almost annoyed, “has no one ever done aftercare with you?”

you hesitated for a second before shaking your head, confused on why this was such a big deal.

his eyes softened as he curled his fingers into a fist, angry at whatever slum discarded you after sex.

he took a moment before coming closer to you, your arms dropping from your chest as he cupped your face.

“can i show you what aftercare is?”

you seemed to melt into his touch, a small smile coming to your face as you shrugged your shoulders.

“okay.”

“yeah?”

you nodded before letting it follow with a giggle, rafe dropping his hands to lead you to the bathroom.

“i like this soft side of you,” you abruptly said, rafe standing behind you as you stripped of your underwear.

‘this isn’t a shower it’s a bath,’ you thought to yourself but stepping in carefully, ‘are those bubbles?’

“tell anyone and you’ll regret it.”

you put your hands up in defense, bubbles sticking to the skin as he grinned down at you.

“oh come on,” you dramatically sighed, moving towards the end of the tub before waving him in.

“you can join.”

[pazziville]

Can I Be Him — A Pazzi Fic

Wherein Paige Bueckers, UConn’s prolific point guard, has been in love with Azzi Fudd, her longtime best friend and current teammate for the longest time. The persistence in scouting the girl to the huskies was not for nothing. But of course, Paige kept this fact to herself. Yet, even after all these years, behind the basketball star’s confident and cocky-like attitude, lies insecurities for seemingly not being enough for Azzi.  Azzi constantly reminding Paige of the reality that she may never have feelings for the girl the same way the girl has for her when she repeatedly talks to Paige about her boy problems, deflates the latter’s self-esteem, while Azzi remains unaware. With the next season around the corner and Paige’s newfound courage to move on from Azzi, what would become of their relationship?

CHAPTER 1.

word count: 1,523

Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Paige knows this feeling all too well by now. The feeling of her heart being squeezed a million times over as she attends practice to try and get her mind off a certain girl but then having to witness the girl talk to and play with the guy she’s head over heels for on the other half of the court. It’s not even an official team workout day and yet Azzi went to workout with her and decided to invite her crush. Isn’t this just great. Paige thought. “Still at it, Paigey?” Nika enters the gym with a coffee and juice on hand, per Paige’s request when she texted the girl to come save her from suffering alone at the eye sore she was having to face. Azzi and her company, Parker, notices Nika’s arrival and give her a welcoming wave before resuming what they were previously doing. Nika gives them a wave back and proceeds to join Paige in her practice run. Nika notices Paige was completely locked in, not even aware of the fact she had already arrived, causing her to block Paige’s mid-range shot attempt to get her attention. “Sorry.” Paige couldn’t even bring herself to be annoyed at what Nika did. She realized she spaced out in her thoughts and brought her arms down from shooting motion weakly. “King of the Court to get your mind off her?” Nika proposes to which Paige agrees, not even protesting. She’s quite literally willing to try anything to get her mind off of Azzi at this point.

“Who’s winning?” Parker asks Azzi, who was currently hyper focused on the King of the Court game Paige and Nika was having. Azzi didn’t answer, eyes still intensely on the game, making Parker repeat himself, “Azzi, who do you think is winning?”

The girl snaps out from her trance, “Sorry, I got a little too focused there.” Azzi takes a sip of water before she gives her answer, “Nika, probably.” “You think so?” Parker gives her a questionable look as Nika was currently down by 8.

Azzi plays with her arm, a mannerism she developed throughout the years when talking about things that she cared about and that affected her, “Paige has a soft spot for Nika. From that alone, she’s already won.”

“Oh.” Parker could only utter. Silence overruled the two of them as they sat on the bleachers and Azzi’s mind realized the bulk of what she just said. “I meant… Since Paige has a soft spot for Nika, she has the chance to use that to her advantage and catch Paige off guard and win it.” Azzi squeezed her arm, not entirely sure she was being truthful to herself.

The game went on longer than expected, Azzi’s prediction being somewhat right. Nika catching up to Paige’s score because the girl undoubtedly had a soft spot for her close friend and teammate. Not until Paige’s last possession. Nika watches as the girl does her lazy crossovers, anticipating that the girl was going to do a step back three, a move Paige loved doing during pickup games. But much to Nika’s surprise, Paige does the anticipated explosive crossover before ultimately driving to the basket. A move that caused Nika to fall hard from the unexpected contact.

Azzi, seeing this, stands up as she grows concerned for her teammate who was currently on the ground, clearly in pain. She was about to approach Nika until Paige steps in her peripheral vision, lowering herself to Nika’s level and checking up on the girl, which causes her to freeze. Suddenly, Azzi feels a pang in her chest. 

“Is Nika alright?” Parker asks, but as usual, gets ignored by Azzi, who was too occupied in watching Paige and Nika on the court. Paige went from asking Nika if she was alright, to touching the girl's knee, which got scratched from the impact to the floor after Paige charged at her. 

Azzi was smart. Hell, her professors, parents, friends, and classmates would never fail to mention this fact to her, because she truly was, academically and generally. But what she said after seeing how Paige cared for Nika right after her fall was a long shot of being smart. 

“Care enough to not be reckless and stupid before the season, Paige?” Paige stops in her tracks. Establishing eye contact with Azzi who was within a distance from her, caught off guard with what the girl told her.

The eye contact with Paige was enough for Azzi’s mind to backtrack, knowing what came out of her mouth went below the belt. “I-I’m sorry.” “No, it’s alright. You’re right. I’m sorry Nika, I should’ve been more careful.” Paige guiltily admits her fault, making Azzi more guilty in the process.

“Dumbass, shit happens, it’s alright. Now carry my ass to the clinic, this knee is kinda killing me right now.” Paige breaks her eye contact with Azzi to offer her shoulders for Nika as support to get her up.

Seeing the two girls’ backs as they walked out of the door together with Nika’s arm on Paige’s shoulder and Paige’s hand around Nika’s waist shouldn’t have affected Azzi the way it did. But, it did. The sheer physical contact Paige and Azzi shared bothered her. Yet, the girl convinced herself it was out of concern for Nika. It was a week before the new season. The team could not afford an injured player. Most especially not a player as valuable to the team as Nika. She offered elite defense the team needed and above average offense the team could use when the squad’s scorers such as Paige and herself were benched.

It’s definitely because of those reasons. Nothing more. Azzi talked herself out of what she was feeling. A feeling so seemingly foreign to her. Or so she thought.

“Not gonna talk about what happened back there?” Nika asks Paige, who has been sitting on the clinic chair with her eyes completely glued to the white walls and not uttering a single word for the last 10 minutes, clearly still affected by Azzi’s words.

The question was enough for Paige to look Nika in the eyes instead of the walls, “There’s nothing to talk about. She was right.” Nika plops down from her seat, making the nurse and Paige flinch at her sudden movement, “Girl, she called you reckless and stupid all in one sentence. Are you really just gonna let that slide without communicating the fact you were hurt by that?” Paige sighs, knowing Nika has a point, but is too much of a coward to confront Azzi. Not when her romantic feelings for the girl were involved.

Silence engulfs the room. Nika, disappointed, shakes her alongside a deep sigh and sits back on the chair she previously sat on which delighted the nurse, “Do that again and I’m going to tie you up to this clinic chair.”

Nika nervously laughs, “Sorry, Nicole.” The nurse quickly gives her a daggered stare for the first name basis.

Nika clears her throat and straightens her posture, “I meant, Nurse Nicole.”

Paige laughed at the altercation and had seemed to forget what went down minutes ago. But of course the universe had different plans for the girl. As she was enjoying the small talk the nurse was having with her and Nika, the clinic door suddenly opened, revealing a concerned looking Azzi.

The girl spared Paige a look but nothing more before fully entering the room, her attention fully fixated on Nika and her current condition, even talking to the nurse for her evaluations.

Paige silently observed Azzi from her seat, not being able to stop her chest from hurting. Azzi had more care for Nika than she’ll ever have for me. She managed to convince herself. As the conversation went on, Paige felt out of place, feeling as if she no longer needed to stay.

She got up from her seat, prepared to leave, “Paige, where are you going?” Nika asks, stopping her from her tracks. There was a part of her that wished that question came from Azzi. But how dare she wish that, Azzi would never care enough to ask. She thought.

“I’m gonna get back to practice… If that’s alright with you guys.” Azzi had her back facing Paige, yet the girl could not get to not include her in the conversation of excusing herself out the room.

“No problem, sweetheart. We’re almost done here anyway. Your girls will follow suit soon enough.” Nurse Nicole sweetly assured Paige, earning a soft smile from the girl.

Paige slowly makes her way to the door. She looks back, only to be met once again with the view of Azzi’s back. Nika sees this and realizes, deciding to smile at the girl to cheer her up a bit. It works as Paige leaves the room with a smile. Not a genuine one but it was better than not smiling at all.

Paige can’t help but chuckle at herself as she grabbed a ball from the rack to start working on her game. This may just be the extent of her and Azzi’s relationship.

a/n: suggestions and feedback are greatly appreciated. this is my first time uploading a piece of work to tumblr, so please bare with me. would you guys want me to post this story on wattpad and ao3 as well? thought of doing so for easy accessibility purposes since i don't think tumblr has bookmarks or something alike. thank you very much for reading! much love. <3

[lee-laurent]

Scheiße - Luke Hughes

Summary: In which Luke falls for Nico's friend despite the language barrier. Or in which Sofia dates an American boy even though she barely understands him... at first.

Content: fluff, a tiny bit of angst (sort of), implied sex but no smut, making out

also this fic is formatted a bit different! it's kinda like a timeline of Luke and Sofia's relationship!

notes: everything in italics is in swiss german. easier than having to translate everything!! this one is for all my other multilingual queens/kings :) i tried my best to represent the struggle that i felt trying to learn english, but obviously everyone's experience is going to be different. the squirrel scene is very much taken from an actual experience i had haha

Meeting

"Stop picking at your nails, Sof. Everyone is going to love you," Nico attempted to calm his best friend.

"You don't know that. They could hate me," she argued, continuing to pick at her cuticles.

"Well... I'm their captain. So, if they do anything that makes you upset..."

"Don't threaten your team for me, Neeks."

"Just trying to reassure you, love."

The Devils were having a little pre-season get together with all the players and their significant others. Nico's best friend, Sofia, had recently made the move to America in hopes to improve her English; so, naturally he had decided to bring her along to help her make some friends in New Jersey.

Nervously, she followed behind Nico as they walked onto the roof of Nicole and Jesper's building. He placed a comforting hand on her back, leading her towards a group of WAGs.

"Nico! Hi!" Nicole smiled, "And you must be Sofia! Nico talks about you all the time."

"Hi," Sofia smiled sheepishly, playing with the hem of her skirt.

"Would you like a drink?" the blonde asked.

"Oh, sure. Thank you."

"I'll be with the boys. Let me know if you need anything," Nico smiled, walking off towards a group of hollering men.

Sofia fell into a steady flow of conversation with the Devils' significant others. Well, as steady as it could be with her limited knowledge of English.

"How long have you been seeing Nico?" one of the girls asked, taking a sip from her cocktail.

Sofia choked on her drink, giggling at the idea of being with Nico. "He is my best friend. We are not toether."

"Omg! I'm so sorry," the other girl blushed.

"It is fine! No stress," Sof smiled proudly at the use of the expression that Nico had recently taught her.

"So, anyone special back in Switzerland?" Nicole questioned.

"Oh, um, no. I... too focused on work. No time," she explained.

"Omg! We could set you up with one of the single guys on the team!"

"Oh... it's okay," Sofia giggled, taking a long sip of her drink.

"Let us know if you change your mind," Nicole winked, before starting a story about something that had happened at work earlier in the week.

"Sofia! Come here!" Nico beckoned her over to where he stood with a few players.

"Coming! It was nice meeting you all," she smiled politely at the girls.

"Wait! Give me your number! I'll add you to our group chat," Simon's girlfriend exclaimed. Sofia was giddy as she typed her number into her newly found friend's phone.

"Guys, meet Sofia," Nico smiled, placing his hand on her back once again. "Sof, meet Luke, Jack, Timo, and Dawson."

"Hi," Jack smiled widely.

"Nico always talks of you guys. Nice to meet you," the girl smiled, scooting closer into Nico's side. She was not a fan of all the eyes on her at the moment.

"Nice to see you again," Timo grinned. They'd met over the summer when Nico was training.

Luke could see her shoulders untense at the sound of her native language.

"You as well. It's crazy to meet everyone Nico talks about all the time. Like, sometimes I was convinced they were all in his head," she giggled, earning a glare from her best friend.

Luke, Jack, and Dawson chuckled awkwardly, completely unaware of what the conversation in front of them was about. They could be shit talking for all they knew.

"So... what do you do for work?" Dawson asked.

"Oh, fashion photography!"

"Ever tried sports photography?"

"I'm not as good at it," she nodded.

"She's being humble. She just prefers fashion," Nico laughed. While Nico talked to the boys, Sofia couldn't help but notice that the tallest boy in the group had yet to speak to her. Did he not like her? She was trying her best. She caught his eyes for a moment, but he quickly looked down at the beer in his hands. She was upset that one of Nico's close friends didn't like her, but she couldn't win them all.

Crushing

It was the third or fourth time that Sofia had hungout with the WAGs. This time she'd invited them to have their wine night at her and Nico's apartment. The girls were sat in the living room, chatting animatedly about the upcoming season.

"I know that Simon is so excited for his rookie season! He told me that Luke is feeling the same way," Simon's girlfriend smiled.

"I- I don't think Luke likes me," Sofia spoke up, swishing her wine around in the glass.

"What?!" Nicole exclaimed, "Why do you think that?"

"He never talks to me. And when I go to stand with Neeks, he walks away."

"That's funny because Curtis told me something completely different," Reanne smiled cheekily.

"What did he say?" Sofia asked, chugging the rest of her wine, before pouring herself some more.

"That Luke has a biiiiiig crush on a certain someone."

"Ooo! Sofia!" the girls cheered.

"But... he doesn't talk to me."

"Luke has no play, girl. He's probably just wayyy too nervous to talk you cause you're so stunning."

"He thinks I'm cute?" Sofia blushed.

"Duh! Who wouldn't? Do you think he's cute?" Nicole pressed.

Sofia pressed her lips together in an attempt to hide her growing smile, "He is like... how do I say it? My..."

"Type?"

"Yes! He's my type."

"Can I tell Curtis? Maybe he can talk some sense into Luke."

"We should let them come together naturally, Reanne," Nicole giggled.

"Okay, well... next game you're talking to him. Sound good?"

Sofia nodded happily. She couldn't believe that Luke had a crush on her! She felt like a high schooler writing in her diary about the cute boy in her class.

First Date

Sofia stood in the bathroom mirror, fixing her hair for the 15th time. She hadn't gone on a date in over a year and she was shitting herself. Luke had asked her out after their most recent win against the Rangers. She hadn't exactly told Nico who were date was with, but he knew she was going on one.

"You look beautiful, Sof," Nico smiled as she walked into the kitchen.

"It's not too much?" she asked, pulling at the bottom of her top.

"Are you going to wear a jacket?"

"Yeah, my jean one."

"I think that's perfect. Where are you guys going?"

"Some pizza place. Then we're going on a walk, I think."

"Cute. How'd you meet?"

"Oh, at the Rangers game. He came up to me when I was waiting for you."

"He wasn't a Rangers fan... was he?"

"No," she giggled, "He was wearing a Devils' jersery."

"Good. Have fun! You'll be back tonight?"

"Yes, Neeks. I'm not going to his on the first date," she giggled, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

"Stay safe! I love you!"

"Love you too," she grabbed her purse, blowing him one last kiss before disappearing out the door.

"Hi," Luke smiled, "I like your outfit."

"Thank you, Luke. You look nice too," she admired the way his chest looked in the blue polo shirt he was wearing.

"Pizza?"

"Pizza."

The walk to the pizza place was full of laughter. Sofia wasn't sure she'd ever felt so confident in her English as when she was around Luke. He wasn't condescending at all, helping her when she asked and waiting when she didn't.

"Have you ever played hockey?" Luke asked, cutting himself a slice of pizza.

"No. That is not really... my thing?"

Luke nodded in understanding.

"But I love watching. You are very good."

"Thanks, Sofia. I have seen the outfits you've helped Nico make. Do you think you could help me?"

"You always wear same two suits," she giggled, covering her mouth.

"Don't bully me!"

"Sorry. I would love to help you, Luke."

"I, uh, wanted to apologize for ignoring you when we first met. I was under the impression that you were with Nico, so I was trying to push my attraction away."

"Nico is like a brother. I never think of him other ways. Promise."

"It's fine, Sof. No worries. I just being dumb."

"Maybe you are always dumb, Lukey."

Luke cackled, reaching out and holding her hand across the table.

"I'll just pretend that was your lack of English and not you bullying my again."

"I would never bully you," she smirked.

First Kiss

Sofia was cuddled up into Luke's side on the sofa, his hand holding tightly onto the dip of her waist.

"I can put the German captions on," Luke offered, as he watched Sofia's face scrunch up for umpteenth time.

"But maybe that would distract you."

"It won't, babe. I'll turn them on."

Sofia blushed at the pet name. Luke grabbed the remote, clicking on the German caption option on the film they were watching.

"What the hell is Eichhörnchen?" Luke asked, butchering the pronunciation.

"Eichhörnchen?" she giggled, correcting him, "It's squirrel."

"Say that again?"

"Squirrel."

"You say it so funny. I'm sorry."

"The 'skw' sound... that is not in German. Stop hating."

"Sorry, love," Luke giggled, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

Sofia looked up at him as he pulled away. She placed a gentle hand on the side of his face, leading him back down.

"What're you doing?" he whispered.

"Can we kiss?"

"Wha- what?"

"Can we kiss?" she asked just as confidently as before.

Luke nodded, running his tongue over his bottom lip. He leaned forward, capturing her top lip between his. He smiled into the kiss, ultimately breaking it. Sofia pouted, pulling him back in for more.

Wearing His Jersey/Becoming His Girlfriend

"Do a spin for me?" Luke smiled from his spot on his bed. Sofia was dressed in her panties and a jersey with 'Hughes 43' plastered on the back. She spun around giggling as he got off the bed, picking her up.

"You. Are. So. Fucking. Beautiful," he said between kisses, hands sneaking under the jersey to give her exposed ass a small squeeze. She gasped, smacking his chest.

"Jack will be home soon, I should go."

"Do you have to?" he whined, sitting down and pulling her onto his lap.

"Yes, Lukey. I'll be at the game, wearing my new jersey," she giggled, pulling him into a passionate kiss. He attempted to lay down and bring her with him, but she was quick to stand up. She walked over to the side of the bed, hopping into her jeans. The vintage bell bottoms looked amazing on her and Luke made sure to let her know, letting out a low whistle as she walked out the door.

"A Hughes' jersey?" Nico questioned after the game, pulling her into a hug.

"Thought I'd switch it up. Can't always be repping the Hischier one."

"Where'd you get it?"

"Luke let me borrow it."

"I'm glad you two have become friends. I was worrying you weren't going to befriend any of the guys."

"We're the same age. It just made sense," she shrugged.

"You never told me how that date you went on was."

"Oh, didn't really work out. He just wanted to use me to get free tickets," she lied.

"Sounds about right. You'll find someone, Sof. Don't worry."

"And if I don't?"

"You've got me," he winked, making her laugh. "Need a ride home?"

"Yes! Let me say thanks to Luke again."

"I'll meet you at the car," he smiled, kissing her cheek as he headed out.

"Look at you," Luke whispered as he pulled her into a 'friendly' hug. "Look so good in my jersey."

"Stop being so horny," she giggled, pulling away from him.

"Can't help it when my girlfriend looks sooooo fine."

"Girlfriend?"

"Sorry, I- uh, I just assumed because we spend all this time together. But if you don't want to be my girlfriend, I understand. I shouldn't have-"

"Luke."

"Yeah?"

"I'd love to be your girlfriend."

"Oh."

She pulled him into one more quick hug, before skipping off to meet Nico.

Nico Finding Out

Luke hummed as Sofia straddled his lap, running her hands through his hair. He pressed a kiss to her jaw, another on her neck, then one on her collarbone before connecting their lips again.

"I missed you," he mumbled.

"Missed you too."

The boys had been on a week long roadie, and now Sofia and Luke couldn't keep their hands off each other.

"Mmm, I love this perfume. Is it new?" he asked, kissing her neck again.

"Yeah," her voice was shaky, gasping when he nipped at her jaw.

"God, Sofia. You're perfect."

"Luke."

"Hm?"

"Kiss me."

His hands gripped her waist as their lips met in another passionate kiss. They laid down on the couch, Luke holding himself up as his girlfriend giggled below him.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. I just missed this."

"Me too, babe."

Sofia's hands moved under his top, feeling the smooth skin of his chest. Just as Luke was going to ask if he could do the same, a new voice echoed through the apartment.

"Sofia? Who's here?"

"What?"

"Who's here? There's some white sneakers at the door. Not mine."

"Oh, Luke's here! We're watching TV."

The couple scrambled to sit up and fix their dishevled looks.

"Hey, Luke! How's it going, man?" Nico entered the living room, dapping up his teammate.

"Good, good. How're you?"

"Good. You didn't tell me he was coming over," Nico turned to his roommate.

"Yeah... spur of the moment."

"Is that a hickey?" Nico asked in German, as not to embarass Sofia.

"What? No."

"It totally is! Who gave you a hickey?"

"It's not a hickey, Nico."

"Was it him?!" Nico gasped.

"What?! No!"

"It was! You're such a shit liar! How long?"

"Beginning of the season," she sighed, finally giving in.

"This is so funny! Why didn't you tell me?!"

"I'm not a shit liar, for the record. You had no idea until now."

"Was that date with him?!"

"Nico!"

"I'm right here... if you're talking about me," Luke scratched the back of his neck.

"One second, Luke," Sofia smiled. "It was, yeah. I... I was nervous to tell you. Was worried you'd think I was using you to get with him."

"That's funny, Sof. I couldn't care less. As long as you're happy."

Sofia stood up, pulling her best friend into a tight hug.

"I'm watching you though, Rusty. Hurt her and I'll hurt you," Nico threatened, heading to his bedroom.

"He knows?!" Luke gasped.

Guess Sofia had some explaining to do.

[mirkwdmstrss]

the sun had already risen

summary: gil-galad offers words of comfort to ease your anxieties; a brief look at his softer side

genre: fluff

pairing: gil galad x reader

word count: 775

The soft white light of morning filters in through the gossamer curtains, chasing away what shadows of night remain. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, though his back is to you; turned away from the rising sun. Even in slumber, he does not seem rested. And why would he, what with the fate of your people and that of all of Middle Earth seemingly hanging in the balance?

“I can feel your eyes on me,” he rumbles, the vibrations of his deep baritone penetrating your contemplative state.

A soft smile graces your lips though you say nothing in turn.

“Hold your tongue all you want,” he quips. “Your gaze is enough to wake a man from the deepest of sleep.” Slowly, he rolls onto his back before turning to look at you. “And yours is one I feel to the depths of my being.”

“Do you, now?”

He smiles and your heart swells. Very seldom do the lips of the High King curve up as of late; the deep crease on his brow softer now, though still prominent acting as a reminder of all he carries.

“It is a good feeling,” he responds, reaching forward to tuck a stray lock of hair behind the shell of your pointed ear. His hand stills on your cheek, cradling it. You lean into its warmth, closing your eyes and savoring the stolen moment.

The mattress sinks as he shifts his weight to prop himself up on his elbow; his keen eyes regarding you fondly. As he does so, the single long, dark braid you’d woven his hair into last night falls over his shoulder. You reach for it, toying with the end of the plait before working your fingers through it unraveling the silken strands. You slip your fingers through his hair, not one tangle to be found as you gently guide them through it. He closes his eyes and murmurs a sound of approval as you do so. You stay like that for a moment, quietly combing your fingers through his hair until it falls in a curtain of black waves about his shoulders and you swear he’s never looked more beautiful than he does now.

Tears well in your eyes and Gil-Galad’s open suddenly, shining with concern.

“What is it, my love?” he whispers as he wipes away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb.

You press your lips together into a semblance of a smile as you curve your fingers around his wrist. “Nothing, do not worry about me.”

His brow furrows as he regards you. “Now what kind of king, what kind of lover, would I be,” he pauses, shifting up into a sitting position. Gently, and with very little effort, he pulls you into his lap to sit between his legs. “If I did not stop that would cause tears to fall from these beautiful eyes.”

You lay your head against his bare chest and feel him drop his chin atop your head as he wraps his arms around you.

“I just,” you hesitate, searching for the words to articulate this feeling deep in your chest. “Are you certain we’re to trust in this strange new power?” You thread your fingers through his, your thumb skirting over the newest ring in his collection; the one crafted by Celebrimbor in Eregion.

“It brought life back to Lindon, did it not?” he answers softly with a kiss against your temple. “Protected our people?”

Tilting your chin to look up at him from beneath your lashes, you search his eyes for some sort of solace as the pit in your chest grows ever deeper. “I cannot help this feeling of dread, like something terrible will come with the rising sun; catching us all ill-prepared and unaware.”

Gil-Galad gently grasps your chin in his hand, turning your face toward the pale morning light. “The sun has already risen, my love.” He drops his hand to the exposed skin of your thigh from where your leg curls around the sheets. “Look at how it shines upon your skin even now; bright and nourishing. There are no horrors to be found lurking in its rays.”

A soft smile plays at the corners of your mouth as you find it harder and harder to dwell on these feelings of sorrow in his comforting embrace. “Have you always the right words to quell a fearful heart?”

He nuzzles in the crook of your neck, his nose skirting against your skin as he presses delicate kisses along the column of your throat before pausing at your ear. “So long as yours is the heart that I protect.”

[everparanoid]

Depths of Eternity Left Behind

Satoru Gojo x Sorcerer fem! Reader

On October 1st, 2018, you find Gojo crying in an empty classroom and you try to comfort him.

A story in which you are a Grade One sorcerer working alongside Gojo who falls in love with the man behind the overconfident bravado, but can't seem to get close enough to reach him beyond the limitless infinity that separates you.

cw: Canon compliant. Major Character death, Canon Typical Violence, Suggestive Content, Mentions of Pegging and Petplay, Mentions of death, Fluff, Angst. Major Spoilers for Manga, JJk 0 and season 2.

Word Count: 6.3k

Minors Do Not Interact

Spoilers below.

October 31st, 2018. Summary of the Notice from Jujustu Headquarters

Suguru Geto’s Survival was confirmed. We hereby declare the reinstatement of his death sentence.

2.  You and Satoru Gojo have been deemed accomplices in the Shibuya Incident and are hereby expelled from Jujutsu society. Following your confirmed death in Shibuya, you are to be wiped from all records. In addition, any attempt to free Satoru Gojo from his seal will be deemed a crime.

3. Masamichi Yaga is sentenced to death for inciting you, Satoru Gojo, and Suguru Geto, causing the Shibuya Incident.

4. The suspension on Yuji Itadori’s death sentence is hereby revoked, and his execution shall be carried out promptly.

5. Special-grade sorcerer Yuta Okkotsu shall be appointed as Yuji Itadori’s executioner.

October 1st, 2018. Tokyo prefecture, Tokyo Jujutsu High School 30 days before The Shibuya Incident

“Sensei, good evening,” Itadori called out to you.

You had poked your head out of the door when you heard the young trio returning from their day out in the city. “Itadori, have you seen Gojo?”

Halting, Itadori’s face contorted in thought. “Gojo sensei?” His arms were filled with shopping bags, presumably Nobara’s. You wondered how his arms hadn’t given out from the amount he was carrying, but you supposed the vessel of the king of curses was a special breed. “Isn’t he on a mission?”

You cursed under your breath. “I thought he would be with you guys,” you said. “Yaga told me he returned earlier today.”

“Knowing him, he’s probably slacking off somewhere.” Nobara rolled her eyes, gesticulating languidly.

Itadori smacked his fist onto his open palm, jostling the bags still hanging off his forearms. “Have you checked--?”

“I’ll call him,” Megumi interrupted, quick to bring out his phone. His fingers dashed over the screen bringing up Gojo’s number.

You waved dismissively. If the kids hadn’t seen Gojo then something was wrong and calling him probably would ruin any chance of you had figuring out what it was. Gojo had a way of masking his problems in front of the kids. “No need, Fushiguro.”

Megumi lowered his phone. “Are you sure?”

“He is around here somewhere.” You smiled. “You guys have a nice rest of your evening.” You slid the door closed.

You found Gojo in one of the sparsely furnished classrooms. He sat slumped, his long legs man-spread, his head resting on the backrest of the chair, and his blindfold on. The setting sunlight pouring in through the open window bathed his white hair in a gentle orange glow.

You didn’t know if he knew that you were there. If he did, he didn’t acknowledge you. It was rare to catch the blindfolded man unaware—ever since the incident with the star plasma vessel and Toji Fushiguro all those years ago his defences had been ironclad. And yet there you were watching the strongest man you knew break.

His cries were hollow sounding. Too frail to be considered sobs of pain, but strong enough to express the tip of an iceberg of agony. From being in its presence, you felt an iota of the weight he carried on his shoulders.

It was fifty-fifty whether your presence would make him raise his guard again, putting on the front of the bubbly jester entertaining the court. However, you couldn’t just stand by and watch him cry.

When was the last time that he was told it was okay to be weak? When was he allowed to be anything other than the strongest?

Gojo was the strongest, that was a known fact. One accepted by everyone in the jujutsu world, even by the overconfident man himself. He was born into strength; it was his birthright.

Throughout the heavens and earth, he alone was the honoured one.

You knew this. It’s not like anyone would ever let you forget. It was why you both agreed you couldn’t be anything more than what you were. It was what kept your worlds apart despite how much you wanted to be a part of his.

Gojo is the strongest.

Other’s words echoed around your head like a mantra.

He was never weak. He could never lose. He was never afraid. He was Satoru Gojo. Six eyes; limitless; idiot; pain in the ass; love of your life… the strongest.

And he was alone, you reminded yourself.

                //July 2007

“Is that Satoru?” you asked, watching the usually aloof teen training alone on the fields. It was a hot day in July at Jujutsu High. Hotter than it had been over the last week, and so instead of wasting away in a classroom you’d buddied with Shoko to sit outside near the training grounds.

Shoko hummed in affirmation from beside you. With focused hands, she filled her cigarette paper with tobacco, holding the filter between her lips. She didn’t need to look up to know where you were looking.

“Is he okay?” you asked.

“When is he not okay?” With dainty fingers, she rolled her cigarette. “Fuck this, I’m just going to buy pre-rolled next time,” she said. She licked the edge of the paper, sealing the cigarette. “Come with me later.”

“Sure,” you said absently, your attention failing to leave Gojo. Shoko could have asked you to rob a Konbini and you would have agreed. “He’s been doing a lot of missions alone since the failure of Tengen’s Star Plasma vessel mission... I haven’t even seen him hang out with Suguru.” Or me, but you don’t say that. This wasn’t about you. Even though you had been just as close with the two as they were with each other; not to the same strength level and ability to throw down, still, it was always the three of you—and Shoko occasionally.

Shoko shrugged, lighting her cigarette. “They’re big boys, they can work separately.” She took a drag. “Besides, I can’t imagine him needing backup anymore. Anyone else would be a hindrance.”

You outwardly agreed but couldn’t shake the thought that even the strongest person needed support. And Suguru was his right-hand man. They were inseparable like two sides of the same coin—yin and yang; only imbalance came if one existed without the other. It felt wrong seeing them apart. “Still—I should go and check on him.”

“Don’t,” Shoko said.

You stopped mid-way into getting up and looked back at her. “Why not?”

“Because asking Gojo to open up is like extracting blood from a rock,” Shoko monotoned. She crossed her left leg over the right and leaned back, taking another drag.

“Rocks don’t bleed,” you said.

“Exactly, rocks are weapons.” She tipped her head to the side. “That’s why you’re better off not going to him. Unless you want to be the one hurt, and news flash, I can’t reverse heartbreak.”

You looked away, guilt-ridden. It wasn’t a secret that you were in love with Gojo.

“Besides your form of empathy is about as kind as a slap,” Shoko added.

You hesitated. She had a point. You cast your gaze between Shoko and Gojo in the distance, divided. He whipped a pale hand across his sweaty forehead, his focus undisturbed. He looked tired, determined, and way out of your league.

“Fine, I’ll check on Suguru,” you said, grabbing your bag.

Shoko shook her head. “Out.”

“Again?”

“He’s on a mission alone.”

Alone.

The word rippled through you.

“Couldn’t one of us have gone along with him?” you asked. “We are here too.”

She coughed out a bitter laugh. “And I’ll what? Heal his mouth after he successfully does his job? He’ll be fine.” She stood and placed a hand on your shoulder, taking a final puff in the process. She blew out the smoke. “Like I said, they’re big boys. They’re just licking their wounds right now.”

You watched as she dropped the cigarette butt and stumped out its orange glow with her shoe.

“They’ll be fine,” she said. “Trust me.”

      /October 1st, 2018

You often forgot that Satoru was a human too. If you let the words of others, and even the words of the man himself poison you, you too might have been able to ignore that key detail. The only thing that worked to remind you that it was Gojo shouldering the responsibility of the world.

Throughout the heavens and earth, Gojo alone was the honoured one.

Alone.

He would always be alone. He was always alone. Amongst a crowd of people, he was alone. When he was with his students, he was alone. When he was with you and his other colleagues, he was alone. When he was in your bed on the odd times you both were able to sleep in each other’s arms after months of back-to-back missions—he was still alone.

It troubled you.

Despite being whatever you both were—bed buddies? Colleagues with benefits? Star-crossed lovers? You still couldn’t truly reach him. Nor could you fathom the depths of his loneliness or how heavy the head was that wore the thorned crown. It must have been agonising to be seen and acknowledged but not levelled. To be put on a throne you didn’t ask for and wield its power at unsatisfying levels against things that could only at best be considered insects, excruciating even. You imagined it was like holding back a scream of agony after losing a cherished one. Suppressing everything for the sake of not setting the world on fire—to not become the enemy.

But Gojo had no enemies.

        //December 24th, 2017

The sky was a deep azure gradating with the orange sunset forming pink and purple stained clouds the day Suguru Geto died. The stars were clear in the sky, and the air was crisp and fresh. It was a new day. Yet in those hours before so much had happened. So many had fought to stop the person you once called your friend. So many years of friendship, years of sitting in classrooms and shaking your head as he and Gojo goaded each other; years of catching the rebounds of their hoop sessions in the sports hall and laughing with them when they returned from their missions—were gone in a matter of hours.

It was just another day. Insignificant. Unsatisfying. There was no big bang, no screaming and shouting. It was just over.

You hadn’t been there when Suguru died. You hadn’t heard his last words or seen his face when Gojo killed him.  You didn’t get to see his smile again or hear his soft-spoken voice—the same one he’d use when he’d pat your head and call you kind for trying to stop his and Gojo’s fights, but ended up adding fuel to the raging fire because it was fun to watch Gojo pout. You hadn’t heard any of it, but Gojo had.

And he was alone.

“He’s gone,” Gojo said closing the door to the room in the morgue where Suguru’s corpse lay.  You caught a glimpse of Shoko adjusting her gloves and pulling the sheet over his face before you were completely cut off. “He won’t hurt anyone anymore,” Gojo said, his voice steady and empty.

“’Toru,” you said weakly, his nickname meek sounding on your lips.

He looked down at you, his lips pulled into a tight line like he was suppressing everything he wanted to say. If you could have seen his eyes behind the blindfold you were sure they were just as troubled. But you couldn’t because Gojo never showed weakness.

He is the strongest.

“I should have stopped him before—” he gulped, his fist clenching at his side. “I should have been there. I could have—.”

“Could have what?” you interjected. “Could have saved him? Could have talked him out of insanity?” You scoffed. “No, you couldn’t.” You knew it was the wrong time for tough love, especially when Gojo had willingly opened up to you, but you couldn’t meet him on his level. Your emotions were running too high—and you hated rehashing the past. And that’s all his words were doing for you. Restating not Gojo’s failure, but your own. “He killed his parents. He wiped out an entire village of people. He was prancing around like some born-again Buddha with an almighty saviour complex spouting nonsense about monkeys and mass genocide.”

Gojo remained still. He had no funny remarks or stupid grin. He was a ghost of himself. Before this in your eyes, Gojo Satoru had died once. It was after he returned from failing Tengen’s star plasma protection mission. And he never fully returned. It was like he was teetering on the edge; neither here nor there.

You knew he knew that you were right.

You were rarely wrong.

They’ll be fine, trust me.

You didn’t blame Shoko, or Gojo, or even Yaga. You blamed yourself. You should have been there for your friends. You could have been there for them… both of them. But you weren’t.  You were too weak. You weren’t Gojo or Suguru. You were you. Just another Grade One sorcerer growing alongside two Special Grade giants—watching them race on ahead and crash and burn without even attempting to catch up and put out the flames.

You didn’t have time to filter the words vomiting out of your mouth. “What? Do you think you could have brought him along on all those missions with you back then after Riko? Like he could have worked alongside you when you were acting like everyone was a burden?” You stood, pointing a single finger into his chest—not bothering to question that he was allowing you to touch him. That in front of you he had let his limitless technique down. He had met you midway and let you into his world just like you wanted, all because you were one of the last people he had whom he believed somewhat understood him beyond the bravado. “Have you forgotten that you alone are the strongest Satoru, not you and Suguru? Just you. And the moment that imbalance came—the moment you both realised that you were no longer equals—was when you could never have stopped him. If anything, you would have pushed him there faster.”

You dropped yourself back into your chair, burying your head in your hands. Tears fell quicker than you could stop them. And so, you let them and felt them soak your dark clothes.

Gojo didn’t attempt to comfort you or say anything for the matter. Instead, he stood over you as you sobbed—letting your tears slide off his loafers.

When your tears let up, and you finally were able to hear yourself think again you noticed the puddles on and around his shoes. You hadn’t known he was still there—that he had stood and let you say all of that to him, and not said a single word. Your eyes trailed slowly up his long legs, to his relaxed hands, his chest, and up to his blank blindfolded face, emotionless.

Dread incensed you, made your mouth dry and your eyes even drier. Guilt had you recalling everything and letting go of all your misplaced anger.

You’d said too much. He’d let you touch him, and you threw everything back in his face. All because of your selfish guilt.

“Satoru.” You didn’t miss how he flinched slightly at the word. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean any of that. I am just upset. It’s not your fault.”

“No,” he said. “You’re right.”

His smile unnerved you; told you that you had fucked up.

“Throughout the heavens and earth, I alone am the honoured one.”

You went to touch his hand but were stopped inches away by his limitless technique. “Toru,” you pleaded, wishing that you could take it all back. That you could go back to who you both were before the world tore you all to shreds.

His fists clenched. “Only me,” he said.

And for the second time since you’d known him, Gojo Satoru died again.

    /October 1st, 2018

“I know you’re there,” he said.

You straightened, pushing off the door frame you took a hesitant step into the empty classroom. You had been so lost in thoughts that you didn’t realise he had stopped crying and had lifted his head, watching you through the blindfold.

Gojo lifted the rim of his mask. His unearthly blue eyes were tinged red around the edges and deep bags framed them. He gave you a weak smile—the gesture not leaving his lips. “You spyin’ on me?”

His tone didn’t hit when he looked so drained.

You slid the door closed behind you. You didn’t know why you did it. Perhaps you thought that some privacy would allow him the space to lower his guard. As if the flimsy sliding door could shut out the rest of the world, and let you in. “I came to check on you, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“Check on me?” It hurt you how foreign those words sounded on his lips. He tilted his head, his already smiling lips pulling into a larger grin. “Did you miss me that much?”

You suppressed a frown. “Of course not, stupid.”

Missing would have been an understatement. Worried was more like it. Worried and pitied.

He laughed; the sound was a relief to your ears. Even if it was fake, you decided that seeing Gojo laugh was better than seeing him cry. You loved his laugh—his smile. You wondered how you could protect it. But the strongest didn’t need protecting. The strongest protected everyone else. That was his purpose. That was what he did.

Satoru Gojo alone was the honoured one.

“You love me,” he teased unaware of how true those words rang.

You did love him like how a sunflower loves the sun.

“When was the last time you slept?” You deflected.

“You sayin’ I look like shit?” He stretched his arms above his head, lifting out of his laid-back position. “Gee, thanks.”

“Don’t insult shit,” you said seriously.

He laid his head back again, lowering his blindfold over his eyes. “I was sleeping.”

You raised a sceptical eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.”

You stood between his legs. “You can talk to me.”

He remained silent.

“Or not, we can just be in silence. It’s nice not hearing you speak for once,” you continued, lightening the mood. Unfortunately, your best way of comforting people was not comforting at all. If past events hadn’t been an indicator, you’d never been good with empathy, and you didn’t claim to be. Most of the time you avoided heavy conversations because of how awkward it would be to not relate to or understand any of what was being said to you. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to but if you had a choice you would choose to not participate. Unless it was for Gojo and once upon a time, Suguru too.

Gojo was like you in that sense, well you thought Gojo was like you, but it turned out you were completely wrong on that front. The selfish man was the most empathetic person in the world. Who else could understand the burdens of these young sorcerers and vessels but the tool of the jujutsu world himself? He was thrust into a life of assassination attempts and responsibility from the day he was conceived after all.

                //August 2018.

Principal Yaga gave you a curt nod as he passed you in the corridor. He was exiting the faculty room leaving you to enact your perfect plan on Gojo. It was a simple prank.

An easy one.

You had to wait for him to be mid-conversation with his guard down. This meant ignoring his texts enough that he would be too busy spamming your phone with inappropriate messages and stickers, to notice you sneak in outside of his field of vision to surprise attack him from behind. It was nothing compared to the horrors he’d pulled on you this week. Gojo had taken to pranking you, so it was only fair to return the favour.

You weren’t playful often.  You tried to present yourself as the dependable stable one out of you and Gojo for the kid’s sake, and the rest of the faculty's sake too. However, sometimes the man tickled your nerves just enough to have you unable to do anything else but retaliate. This happened to be one of those times. You had no malicious intent aside from the crippling desire to avenge yourself because unlike Gojo you weren’t trying to embarrass him in front of the kids. Yours would just be a little jump scare.

You darted forward, your arms open wide to capture him from behind only to fall smack bang into thin air, frozen by the pressure of the limitless space between the two of you.  Being this close, you noticed the fine hairs on his neck standing on end like a startled cat.

Was Gojo afraid?

“Failed,” he said cooly, stepping forward and releasing you from his invisible hold. “Ya should’ve tried a different approach.”

“How did you?” you asked, your words falling off.

He spun to look at you “Back shot? really? I know you can do better. If you wanted to peg me you could have just asked. I’d buy the strap-on and everything so ya don’t have to worry your pretty little head.”

You went to wack him but his limitless once again halted you. “It was going to be a hug, you freak.” You lowered your hand. “Besides, I’m sure you were shit scared just then—admit it.”

Gojo laughed and squeezed your cheeks, pulling and stretching your face like playdough. “You’re adorable.”

“I’m not,” you swat his hands away.

“You didn’t respond to any of my texts,” he said. His hand traced down your face before lifting your chin to look at his masked eyes. “Now that you’re here though, you can answer my question.”

“What question?”

“Are we on for tonight?”

Your cheeks flushed, but you held your focus refusing to give him another thing to annoy you with. “You’re really not going to explain why you’re sitting in the faculty office with limitless on? Utahime isn’t even here to throw stuff at you,” you deflected.

He wrapped his other arm around you, bringing you into a hold that was too intimate for school grounds. With a dip of his head, he brushed his lips over yours. When you went to kiss back, he pulled back, smirked, and then dipped down again. You couldn’t say you didn’t enjoy kissing Gojo. Any woman in their right mind would die to be in your position—fuck it, you over ten years ago would have died to be here too; alone with this gorgeous man. However, not even his lips or his curious hand slipping under your shirt and clasping your bra could distract you enough from the fact that even in an empty faculty room he was on guard; waiting for an attack—for something to disrupt his peace.

He broke the kiss, your residue lip gloss glistened on his lips. “I’m going to need compensation later for the emotional damage your failed assassination attempt caused me. PTSD is real you know.”

He manhandled your face with the hand still caressing your chin. The door opened and Nanami entered with a mug in his hands and a newspaper tucked under his arm. Gojo let you go at least letting you save some face. You reclasped your bra bashfully.

You brushed off your clothes. “Nanami.”

Nanami greeted you in return, setting his coffee on the coffee table and sitting on one of the adjacent sofas.

“Na-na-mi! Aren’t ya just the most respected man I was looking for? What do ya say we hang out for a bit and talk about the social and political state of the world?” Gojo grinned.

The stiff ex-salary man’s response was immediate. “No.” His attention moved to Gojo, who wore your gloss like a trophy.

Gojo turned to you and shrugged, sticking his tongue out comically.

You shook your head, wishing he would give the other man a break. Not everyone had a high threshold for Gojo’s buffoonery, and Nanami was one of those people.

“How about we go to this bakery they sell good kikufuku and we could—” Gojo tried again.

“No.” Nanami opened his newspaper.

“But—”

“Have you considered putting a leash on him?” Nanami asked you.

Gojo snapped his fingers. “Kinky, I like the way you think, Nanami. I’ll buy a leash and collar whilst we’re in town—it’ll be perfect for tonight.” He draped an arm over your shoulders and leaned down till his lips brushed the shell of your ears. “Would you like to be my pet?”

“I think Nanami was implying that you should control yourself,” you muttered, your body tense. You feared not only was Gojo probably serious, but he also now had discovered another avenue in which to stroke his raging God complex.

“But it would be more fun to control you,” he said.

Flabbergasted, you shoved him—well you tried to.

Gojo stepped back his arms up in surrender and limitless once again on. He laughed menacingly. “I’ll take that as yes.”

Nanami cleared his throat, aggressively.

 “I’ll get you a cute blue collar to match my eyes,” Gojo said to you. “I know how much you love them. That way when I am fucking you, you’ll know who you belong to.”

Your eyes widened. “You—”

Both disturbed and visibly disgusted, Nanami closed his paper, picked up his coffee, and evacuated the room.

Gojo gave you a fleeting kiss on your temple. “Na-na-mi! Wait for me.” He strode off after his junior, abandoning you in the faculty room. “I wasn’t done asking you whether you think this shirt makes my butt look too big. Hey! We’re going into town remember. Don’t ignore me! Na-na-mi~!”

    / October 1st, 2018.

Gojo’s chest shook gently as he inaudibly laughed.

You went to take a step back deciding that you had been out of your mind asking Gojo to open up to you, only to be stopped by his legs closing against your thighs trapping you in place.

 “You tryna leave me?” he asked.

“You weren’t speaking.”

“You said ya liked my silence,” Gojo said.

You scoffed. “I didn’t realise that now would be the time you would decide to take someone else’s advice besides your own.”

He raised his head to look at you, mask still in place over his eyes. “I always listen to other people’s advice; I just don’t always take it. And today happened to be a good day for silence.” He raised a finger, pointing upwards. “Can ya hear that?”

You stopped, waiting to hear something out of the ordinary. You looked around the classroom taking in the empty wooden space before turning back to see that stupid big smile once again on his moisturized lips.

“So not only are you taking other people’s advice but you’re also lying?” You shook your head. “That’s a new low even for you, Toru.”

He pouted and reached his arms around you pulling your hips forward. He hugged you like a koala, his head resting on your lower abdomen. “I’m just playing with you.”

“Play with someone else, you’ve expended my nice quota for the day.” You tried to wiggle out of his grasp. “Let me go.”

Gojo held you tighter. “Thank you,” he said quietly.

You halted your actions. “For what?” you asked breathlessly. You didn’t need to ask, and he didn’t need to tell you for you both to know what he meant. Your hands remained by your side too afraid to touch him. Too afraid to do anything that might freak you both out and break whatever emotional domain you’d locked yourselves in.

“I’m going to die one day,” he said softly. “And I’ll remember this moment when death comes.”

You don’t speak; afraid that he’ll stop if you do.

You imagined the thought of his death soothed him in a way. It was the final frontier, and in both your line of work, it meant that you had been defeated. Bested. Beaten at your own game. It meant that you’d given your all and, in the end, it just wasn’t enough. That you as a warrior had fought with all you might and come out the loser. You’d tried. You’d been tested and you’d finally been chosen unworthy. You imagined that despite how much his words hurt you to consider, the thought of death at the hands of someone stronger than him would be an honour. A blessing. It would be the moment when Gojo Satoru, the enlightened one, finally could be human.

After all, death was the ultimate leveller—the unequivocal equalizer.

His grip loosened slightly as he relaxed his weight against you. “Then I’ll be allowed to rest without regrets,” he said. You don’t miss the end of the statement although it is whispered barely in hearing range. “And maybe I’ll be able to greet you both again on the same level, finally.”

“Thought you didn’t believe in all that?” you asked.

He chuckled. “A guy can dream, right?”

                // December 24th, 2018

“Satoru,” Suguru says, a bright smile on his youthful face. He appears to be about sixteen. “Long time no see.” He is sitting a seat away from Satoru in his jujutsu uniform. 

“Blegh!” A younger Gojo coughs shooting forward in his seat. The force of the action causes his circular glasses to slide down his nose.

“You couldn’t have held on a little longer?” a younger you asks, sitting beside him, also in your uniform. “I was rooting for you to make it, so, I could at least decay in my grave a bit more. Don’t tell me you missed me or something?”

Suguru calls out your name. “That’s not very kind of you, you didn’t even let him land.”

“He’s the one who hasn’t let me land. I only died in Shibuya less than two months ago. At least you got a year to compose yourself accordingly.”

Suguru nods in defeat, his smile remaining.

“Currently dying again here,” Gojo says between coughing fits.

You and Suguru pat Gojo’s back.

“You’re kidding me this sucks,” Gojo says. He slumps back in the chair, sighing. He doesn’t spare either you or Suguru a glance, seemingly annoyed.

Suguru hunches over and shakes his head. “Pretty rude thing to say right after seeing someone’s face.” He shoots you an exasperated look.

You respond with an unsurprised lift of your shoulder.

 Gojo scrunches his face. “I’ve always told my students.” He raises his fingers in quotation marks. “‘When you die, you’ll die alone.’ So please tell me this is just some ridiculous dream.”

You snort.

“Does it matter?” Suguru says.

“There’s nothing you can do about it either way,” you add, pulling his ear. “We are all dead either way, stupid.”

He swats your hand away and scratches his head. “No shit.” He looks perplexed. “Fuck, and there’s still all that stuff with his dad.”

“Megumi’s?” you ask. You’d sort of presumed he knew. “Thought you’d said you wanted to die without regrets?”

Gojo looks up at the high airport ceiling thoughtfully. “I asked Shoko to handle it.”

“Of course, you did,” you whisper. “Always a step ahead.”

A wistful smile appears on his lips. “Always.”

You begin to mindlessly play with the back of Gojo’s hair.

He leans into your touch, closing his eyes.

“So, how was the king of curses?” Suguru says segueing the question to the culprit of Gojo’s demise.

“Insanely fucking strong, and I could tell he wasn’t giving it all he had.” When your hand stops massaging the back of his head, he reaches back and takes your hand into his. “Honestly, I don’t think I would’ve won even if he didn’t have Megumi’s ten shadows.”

Suguru brows raise. “I’m shocked anyone could make you admit that.”

“I’m not,” you admit.

Gojo gives you a bashful look. He squeezes your hand in his.

It’s odd for you to see him be so openly vulnerable, but you like it. No, you love it.

Gojo looks down. “I feel kinda sorry for him,” he admits softly.

Suguru glances at you quizzically but you give him no reaction, allowing Gojo the space to continue. You’re not sure if he means Megumi or Sukuna or maybe both, but you decide to listen anyway.

“I’m no stranger to feeling isolated,” Gojo starts. “There was always this gulf between me and other people. Even if they adored me. You can admire a beautiful flower…but you can’t ask it to understand you.”

Suguru straightens in his seat.

Gojo lets go of your hand, scrunching his hand into a fist. “I put everything I had into tryin’ to reach him. To make him understand…all my physical training techniques I mastered… my explosiveness, quick thinking, and attempts at humor. I gave it my all, but it wasn’t enough. The loneliness that comes with unrivalled strength…the one who will teach you about love is—” he pauses, “I had fun.”

You place your hand on his thigh, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

He gives you a thankful nod. He releases a weak laugh, the mood lightening. “Sukuna wasn’t able to give me his all though. And I think that’s a damn shame.”

 “Consider me jealous, at least you had the satisfaction of going out with a bang,” Suguru says.

“Satisfaction, huh?” Gojo scoffs. “I guess my only disappointment was that you weren’t there to slap me on the back.”

Suguru laughs.

“But I guess I am glad I died facing a strong opponent. It’d have been embarrassing if I let some disease or old age get the best of me,” Gojo says.

“What are you a samurai?”

Gojo's eyes widen.

A sly grin appears on your face when you watch Gojo turn around to see a young Nanami and Haibara sitting behind you all. They begin to scuffle for a while mocking Gojo for his selfish mindset in life. You remain silent, watching him the way you always do.

Gojo is the strongest.

Those words still hold despite you both dying. His strength isn’t just about his physical prowess but his mental one. It is why you love him, you decide, even though it kept you worlds apart in life.

“What ya thinking?” Gojo whispers bumping your shoulder playfully.

“Nothing much,” you whisper back. You flip your hand palm up on Gojo’s thigh and he interlocks your fingers.

“Don’t look like nothing much,” Gojo teases leaning down to search your eyes.

You dip your head, watching your interlaced hands. “I’m just glad we’re all together again.”

You don’t look but you hear Gojo’s smile. It sounds like an endless blue ocean crashing against a yellow sandy shore. It feels like the sun warming you back to life.

Gojo lifts your hand and kisses the back of it. “Me too,” he says. “Which one are you choosing North or South?”

“Does it matter what I chose?” you ask not disclosing your choice.

“Maybe.” His gaze flicks to your lips. “Definitely.”

“When did you two get all sappy?” Suguru interrupts. “It’s disgusting.”

“Exactly,” Nanami adds. “I had to endure that. Trust me it gets worse.”

“Sounds to me like a whole lot of bitchless jealousy,” Gojo says, raising his voice over their declarations. “Personally, could never be me.”

 Haibara laughs. “I think it’s cute. Good for you, Gojo-san. Finding love despite your personality.”

Gojo grins and pulls you into his chest. “Thanks, Haibara. See, ‘least someone is happy for me.”

Suguru snickers.

Nanami rolls his eyes.

“I think that was an insult,” you say, raising a finger.

Gojo dramatically hushes you placing a long finger to your lips. “’m taking what I can get. You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“When have I ever been? You act out of pocket all the time. Someone has to help Suguru humble you.”

Gojo shakes his head. “Betrayed by my girl and my best friend…that’s crazy. Not even in death can I catch a break.”

The airport fills with the sound of laughter.

And in these short moments, laying against Gojo’s chest encased in his comforting scent as he bickers with Suguru, Nanami, and Haibara, you feel like nothing is blocking the front of either of your eyes. Like in some absurd way, this is what Gojo meant. You know that even if these days fade… even if you’ve come to know his world, different from yours in the depths of eternity left behind…even now the blue remains—clear; in the summer colours that refract off your cheeks like crystals becoming one with the endless sea.

Gojo’s thumb brushes your cheek smudging away the tears. He says your name softly. “You cryin’?” He asks peering down at you from above.

You reach up and pull off his dark sunglasses. You see those blue eyes, glimmering like sunlight on water, or like grains of stars in an infinitely expanding galaxy that used to spill through the gaps between your fingers. And they’re staring straight back at you. Asking ‘Will we meet again?’

You nod, unable to say the words that are stuck in your throat.

But Gojo doesn’t need to hear it, a grin forming, nevertheless.

“Hey, Principal!” Gojo shouts looking up and spotting Yaga up ahead trying not to be noticed. “Thought ya said no Jujutsu sorcerers die without regret?”

   / October 1st, 2018.

You let your hand slowly move to his white hair, caressing the soft locks. “You know, you’re pretty weak for the strongest man,” you said endearingly.

“Maybe I’m pranking you?” he muttered. “Making ya let your guard down and believe I am weak so that I can get some. I am prone to lyin’ ya know.”

You hummed in disbelief. “What an unfunny lie.”

“What a sick twisted joke,” he agreed.

Thanks for reading!

KO-FI MASTERLIST

[sunnycanvas]

Heyy dear, i love your writings.i have a request .could you please make a smut ff of king Baldwin where his wife y/n is heavily pregnant and lactating.She is needy and begging her husband to touch her and satisfy her needs....

I think by touch her and satisfy her you mean pain relief needs caused in nipples. Hope I did accurate way of request

Warning: Lactation kink, 69 position,mommy kink, daddy kink,anal sex, exhibition kink [(a perversion in which sexual gratification is obtained from the indecent exposure of one's genitals (as to a stranger)] ,misogyny kink, slight overstimulation, slight somnophilia

Baldwin IV had just returned from the battle of Montingsard. This was a great victory they had won. Baldwin IV was beaming with joy after winning the battle. He was even looking for forward in meeting you. You were heavily pregnant by now. He didn't want to leave you in your pregnancy but his duty called plus he trusted the physician and midwives who would take care of you.

Baldwin IV slowly crept in your room to give you a suprise. He asked the gaurds, physicians and midwives to leave since he wanted privacy with the queen but what he saw shocked him.

Meanwhile you were unaware of the game you were playing. Those pesky physicians and midwives have been bothering you. All you wanted was relief. Alas! You was too shy too speak out and these people wouldn't leave you alone. Finally a gaurd came inside with joyous expression and called all the servants out. As soon as they left you gave a sigh of relief you was determined to get rid of your problem until they came back again. So you did. As soon as they left you teared your gown top. Exposing your chest. You pinched my left nipple and milk came out. You sighed in relief. You played with your other nipple. Finally you lifted your boob and put it inside your mouth. Sucking your own milk while playing with your other nipple with milk dropping on bed sheet

Baldwin IV stood there shocked at such lewd display of his wife. A part of him wanted to go inside and shout at her for such obscure act and other part wanted to rail her from behind. He couldn't deny the hardness created in his cock. He could feel erection in his cock and he was desperate to get relief especially from you since you caused it.

Baldwin IV gulped and walked inside and closed the door behind him. As soon as you heard the door close you stop motionless embarassed to get caught. You quickly got inside the blacket out of embarassment. You curled inside the blanket as you were feeling so embarassed that you wished that ground would swallow you whole. The blacket was ripped out of you and you stood motionless not knowing what to do but it seems like Baldwin IV knew what to do. He grabbed you by your neck and lifted you up with ease. Baldwin IV watched your flushed face with your eyes closed and front of the gown open exposing your boobs with milk leaking out of it. Drop by drop.

"You don't need to feed our children" "They don't need to feed by such filthy woman" Baldwin IV spoke in cold voice. You breath a sigh of relief at hearing his voice.

"Atleast it's not some one else" you thought. Baldwin IV chuckled watching your naive expression. "My stupid darling thinks she can get away after pulling at lewd act"

"My lord, I couldn't help it". "There is too much milk inside my nipples and I was desperate to get rid of pain"

Baldwin IV got even more aroused after hearing that, "You are ninth month pregnant aren't you". You tried nodding your head indicating yes.

"Please help me my lord , it's hurts so much I really want to get rid of pain"

Baldwin IV knew according to laws of church it was sin to have sex with heavily pregnant women. "I can see the Bible was right, woman are the reason for fall of humanity". "My love, if your love will drag me to hell". "Then I will happily follow". Baldwin IV couldn't help at himself when he looked at your puffy nipples lactating milk flowing down from your chest and dripping on bed. His erection grew. His mind was begging him to tear his clothes and worship your body.

You sighed in relief when you saw Baldwin IV coming near your nipples with lust hooded gaze. He gave one lick to your nipple and then immediately starting suckling your nipple drinking your milk. You could feel Baldwin IV pushing your nipple to generate more milk to drink. You moaned finally able to get rid of pain and were greatly aroused feeding your husband your breast milk. Despite his willingness to help you were being even more greedy for his help. "My lord, my other nipple too". Baldwin IV disapproved of you being demanding but he silently obeyed. He reluctantly detached himself from your nipple and gave your nipple one last peck and then layed you on bed. He squished your boobs together and brought your nipples together attaching them. He bent down and started to get suckle roughly. Baldwin IV made you hurt by his teeth. You whimpered and asked him to be gentle. He immediately obeyed and went gentle. Slowly your pain gradually went away.

"My lord I think it's okay now" "You can stop now it doesn't hurt anymore"

"You taste so good mommy". "I love mommy's milk" "It taste so good". "Such a sweet nectar coming from your body, mommy" "I would love to start and end my day drinking mommy's milk"

Before you could comprehend what was going on Baldwin IV said "Call me daddy for now since you are ninth month pregnant". "You could go into labour anytime". "We need to practice so that our child learns". "To call us mommy and daddy".

"Okay, daddy"

"Good girl" Baldwin IV gently patted your cheeks in appreciation said "Suck, daddy's cock" You got on the floor with help of Baldwin IV holding your arms. You sat on the floor with heavily pregnant belly and started sucking his cock. "Squeeze it between your boobs" he commanded. "Mommy, play with your nipples so that milk comes on my cock".

"Yes"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, daddy"

"That's my good obedient mommy". Baldwin IV grinned waching you milking from your nipples. You squeeze your boobs together while pinching your nipples together spraying milk on his cock while sucking him. It was difficult but you would do it. Since Baldwin IV risked going to hell with you. You could atleast do this much. Baldwin IV caressed your head while watching you.

"Get on the bed, mommy" Baldwin IV commanded. You were confused since his cock was still throbbing. Baldwin IV helped you get on bed. He gently layed you down on bed. He got on the bed being careful about your pregnant belly. He ensured his cock was near your mouth while his mouth was near your pussy. "This is the place, where baby is connected to you, let me strech it so that it will be easier to give birth for you" as he said it he immediately starting lapping your pussy. He put his tongue inside streching your hole aggressively. While he put his cock inside you. You felt glad that his cock was inside your mouth which avoided you screaming in pain and pleasure. You were doing 69 position with Baldwin IV thrusting his cock inside your mouth. You struggled to breath but you obediently sucked his cock like it was some sort of lollipop while Baldwin IV was determined to strech out your hole to make it easier for you to give birth. This continued. For several minutes until you both came together but unlike you Baldwin IV continued his stimulation. You cried and begged him to stop due to overstimulation. Baldwin IV looked angrily at you and said "Don't be so loud" "We would be huge trouble if others came to know what we are doing".

"Sorry daddy" you replied suddenly aware how sinful your acts are "Daddy is not forgiving you" "Stand up" He replied angrily. You were afraid but you knew Baldwin IV would never hurt you. Baldwin IV helped you get up by holding one of your arm. Once you stood up. He got up and stood in front of you. Baldwin IV analysed you staring at your body and stopping at your heavily pregnant stomach. He got a bit rough by dragging you by your arm but he ensured he wasn't being too strong since it would kill him to hurt you and definitely didn't want you to trip while walking. He brought you near the window and you were astonished that Baldwin IV who was such a possesive man for you would willingly expose your body like that, you got even more confused at his next action when you felt Baldwin IV railing his cock behind you on your ass. You boobs pressed against the window with milk dripping down the window. You desperately scratched the window with your nails. You looked down wondering if someone saw you. You voiced your concern "Darling, what if someone one sees us"

"Then they will know what a sinful creature mommy is" "Our people need to know about the queen they admire so much". "Mommy needs to be punished for her actions"

You were greatly turned on with what your husband was doing to you right now. You were sure now, that both of you will end up in hell. He came in your ass. Somehow holding his moan and grunted next to your ear. You were about to fall on bed out of tiredness but Baldwin IV held both of your arms. He started playing with your boobs again, piching and squeezing your nipples enjoying the sight of milk coming out. "It dried up". He said sadly you were about to fall asleep but gave your last strength and said, "Honey, I think my water broke"

You don't remember much what happened but you could make out Baldwin IV panicking and quickly putting you on bed gently and covering you in blanket. He threw a cloth at window which had traces of milk. He quickly wore his clothes and ran out in hurry asking for help. A few minutes later midwives came and helped you push out the baby. You were tired but did your best. Baldwin IV waited outside in fear hoping not to loose either of you. He prayed that God would not punish you but him for his actions. Soon a baby was born. You couldn't hear much except that baby is healthy and immediately fell asleep since you were so tired.

A few hours later you woke up. Baldwin IV looked at you affectionately. He kissed your forehead and said "Thank you love, for giving me a family" "When I walked in and saw you sleeping". "I got so scared thinking I lost you until one of the midwife assured me that you were just tired and it was common for new mothers to sleep after they gave birth"

You smiled and straight your back. You streched your back arching your boobs and said "Where is our baby, I need to feed him" . Baldwin IV frowned and said "My love I know you always wanted to feed our baby but please feed the baby later" "First let me show you how much I appreciate changes in your beautiful body". Baldwin IV immediately got on top of bed and suckle you. "I must say, I was quite saddened by the fact that your milk dried up". "Now that they have come back let me enjoy them again". You chuckled at his childish behaviour and let him suckle your milk. You began caressing his hair and went back to sleep again while feeding him your milk.

[wordsbymae]

Price of War

Ok I lied, I was gonna do something for an oc, but I have been obsessed with Arcadie: Second Born since I played it so I had to do very short piece inspired by it. Sorry if it isn't as good as you guys are used to! It has been awhile since I've written anything.

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The last of your name, the last of your blood. The sole survivor of a massacre enacted solely to destroy your family, to murder each and everyone of you. The King and Queen were dead. Throats slashed from behind as they feasted and cheered atop their great seats. Next came your older brother and sister. They were fierce warriors but caught completely unaware, in the once assumed safety of their great familial hall. Cut down by those they once called friends. Your uncle, barely leaving his seat, was the fourth to fall. Numerous other family members, those you loved, those you cared for and even those you barely even knew, were slain after. Their blood mixing in with that of their fallen kin. Screams and cheers coming together in a wicked display of evil. Those not of your name ran for their lives, leaving behind their loyalty for the fallen royal family behind in the muck of betrayal.

It was an extermination. Leaving you, youngest of the King and Queen's children, and the last of your entire family, to live. It was due to no cunning or skill of yours that you were still alive. No mercy from above or a chance of fate. The traitor willed you to live and as such you were spared. But, as the traitor sat on the very seat your father was murdered on, used your mother's still warm body as a foot rest, and cleaned the sword he used to cut your brother down, you wished, and not for the last time, that you had fallen with your kin.

He sat before you, lazily wiping your brother's blood from his great sword. You recognised it as the sword your mother gifted him for a successful campaign in the east. The great hall was silent now. There had been gargles and moans of the dying but it was finally silent. Death had come for your once great house. Those complacent in the massacre stood tall and motionless, like statues that littered the walls. And like statues they held no guilt for what had occurred.

You stood, shaken and teary eyed. You tried to hold back emotion, lest the traitor in front of you saw you as weak. You had been dragged from your hiding place while your family was still being butchered, you thought the same would happen to you. Instead you were dragged through rivers of blood and over dying bodies. Your second cousin had gripped onto you ankle with such a force you could still feel his nails digging into your skin now. You could feel his blood drying on your face too, the memory of those who had been dragging you kicking and slashing him as he laid on the floor, until his grip finally loosened.

The traitor in front of you let out a sigh, lulling you back into the present. He seemed bored or at the very least disappointed.

"I thought it would have been harder" he spoke, pushing your mother's body back and forth with his foot, until he bored of it and pushed your mother down the stairs, to your very feet. You stared at her, her eyes dull, yet screaming at you with fear and sadness at the very same time.

" I thought it would take more to bring down the once great royal family". You couldn't tell if he actually wanted an answer, or was just pushing salt into the emotional wounds that littered you.

He stood and began to slowly walk down the steps to meet you. Upon coming across your mother's body he kicked her to the side. There was a time you found him attractive, there was once a time one might say you had 'feelings' for him. But it was nothing but a child's fancy. The man in front of you was no longer your childhood companion, no longer was he the trusted general of your father's armies, no longer the Kingdom's most valued hero. He was a murderer, a villain, a traitor. A suddenly occurred to you, that the tribes and chiefdoms that your father ordered him to raise to the ground, had known him long before you as only as that, an evil, wicked man.

"Do you know why I spared you?" he asks, the face of your childhood friend, corrupted with the blood of your kin.

You opened your mouth to answer. To tell him no, to tell him to go fuck himself, to make a morbid joke of him wanting to torture you in front of the kingdom. You weren't quite sure what you were going to say. But he cut you off, clearly not in the mood to discuss his internal plans.

"Because you are the key to peace and the price of war" he states, eyes drilling into yours. You stared back in confusion, he was never one for riddles.

" I have fought in countless battle, killed hundreds, caused pain to thousands, and what was it for? hmm? Nothing, not a single fucking thing" he spits, you try to step back, but he only inches closer.

"I was lied to, we were all lied to" he shouts, pointing to his men who stiffen as he does so. "we were told war is the maker of peace, we were told that for every life we take, every family we slaughter, our kingdom, our homeland would flourish. It was nothing but a filthy fucking lie."

He turns back to where he left his sword, leaning on your father's seat. He grabs it, and turns back to you.

"I was given this as a gift for my battles in the east, but it was not what was promised to me" he snarls, his arm lifting until the sword was pointed at you, he steps forward, the tip coming to rest under your chin.

"Your mother promised me you" he whispers, the anger from before shifting to desperation. His arm lowered and so did the sword.

"It was the one thing I asked for when I left for the front lines, that if I survived I would have your hand in marriage, as we had planned as children, as it should have always been. But your mother lied, told me that of course she would be honoured to have me as your husband if I came back a hero, but a soldier and a hero are not always the same. I did what I was told, killed all those who opposed us, and for what? A scrap of metal to be thrown at my feet because I was not noble enough? That unlike your family's spoiled brats, I actually fought along side my men? I didn't stand on some ridge over looking chaos and watch as if it was some sport?"

"They lied to me, about everything. Why we were fighting, why we were killing, why my soldiers had to die in a foreign land to a foreign hand. Peace we were told. It wasn't peace, it was greed. Now it is time for us to be greedy. It's time for us to make war to make peace. This land will be rid of those who sent us to war for scraps of metal and gold. And a new dawn, a new kingdom for the common people will be born. It's finally time for me to get what was promised to me, for all the shit I've been through, for all the blood I split, I finally will have you. And I will be the king this kingdom deserves"

You let go of a breath you didn't know you had.

"The kingdom will never accept you as king" you whisper, trying to swallow but only finding a parched mouth. "They will see you as nothing but a bloodthirsty tyrant"

He stares at you for a moment, until a deep chuckle fight past his lips. He laughs for a few moments, his silent statues of men begin cracking their façade and laugh along with him.

"Of course they will accept me. I'm the kingdom's valiant hero, who not only protected them from the eastern tribes, but rescued them from the tyranny of your parent's rule. You live a sheltered life your majesty, you know not of what is beyond the castle walls"

Your heart races. Surely your parent's were loved by all? They seemed to think so, hosting large parties and feasts in honour of the peasant and common folk. Yet you now only find it odd that your never truly saw common folk at these gathering, unless of course you count the servants.

The usurper king continues speaking.

"But suppose you are right, that there are some who would refuse to see me reign, well as you as my spouse, how could anyone refuse, after all you are the sole living survivor of your family, you are therefore the ruler of this kingdom, and with me as your king, none shall dare threaten us." he chuckles, a dark and violent sound.

"Any child of yours is the heir to the throne, and I intend to sire that child" his eyes gleam dangerously in the candle light of the hall.

You look down at your mother, kicked to the side, eyes open forever unseeing. For a moment you wished that you could lay down beside her one last time and be one with your family again, forever unseeing, yet forever out of reach of the usurper king's hands.

[two-white-butterflies]

fuck, rich people. fucks rich people. - h. strong and d. targaryen

Description: You visit the beach and find two men that you can't resist. In which, you end up fucking both men on the countertops. (modern au) Rating: Mature 18+ (double penetration, oral [m. recieving], threesome.)

Fuck, rich people. They always seemed to have a problem of their own - most of the times they're the ones who make the problem - which led to you being stressed about work.

The beach was your favorite place - hearing the sound of the waves crashing on the shore did miracles on your mental state. It was calming, and refreshing. It was a good thing that your parents bought this beach-house, as you were the only one enjoying this scenery. 

You lean into the chair - breathing in the scent of salt in the wind. This was where you were meant to be. You take a lazy sip of the diet coke in your hands - perhaps you’d go on a swim a little later. 

Someone moves from behind you, easing the thoughts off your head. You turn your head to look at the person - and it was Daemon, your childhood friend, and Prince of Dragonstone. “I didn’t think that you’d be here,” he chuckles, holding the foldable chair near his hips. 

“I don’t think I’m ever not here,” your lips settle into a thin line. 

You haven’t seen each other in ten-years, and by the gods was he hot. Handsome to the point that you’d expect him on the cover of Calvin Klein. He had that smile - that made you think that he just finished having sex. His hair is all over the place - but at the same time, it falls perfectly into place. 

“How’s work?” he asked, folding the chair so he’d be sitting beside you. “Shit, as usual.” you answer - a chuckle escapes his mouth. “How about you? Still bothering the King?” you tease, remembering his bad-boy streak during university. He hasn’t changed - but he’s done a great job hiding his dirty laundry. 

“Oh come on, Viserys loves me.” he defended himself, staring at you with lust. He was a fucking predator - a beast in heat when he’s around you. 

“Only because he has to,” you sip on the straw, placing your phone on your lap - open for a conversation. 

Just a conversation for now. 

He pretends to search for something in his pockets, taking off his sunglasses to see better. “Shit, I totally forgot to bring any drinks - do you mind sharing?” he inquired and you nod. 

Where was this going? 

He scoots closer, bridging the wall between you. His hands reach for the can on your hand - taking his sweet moment once his hand settles on top of yours. You couldn’t remove your hands - some special force was preventing it. 

He brings the can to his lips - coating the rim with his sweet saliva. 

“Thank you,” he whispers, he removes his hand away from yours - to your surprise he wasn’t returning back to his chair. His hands were now reaching to cup your cheeks. He gives you a small kiss, letting go of you with a smile. 

“I’ll see you sometime.” he whispers, standing up and retrieving his chair. 

Working as a lawyer sucked - especially when your firm is one of the highest rated offices in New York City. You had to get out - somehow. You were on the beach the next day, but Daemon wasn’t there. His roommate, Harwin, was though - but you were unaware of this relationship. 

“It’s nice here,” Harwin smiled, writing his name on the sand. He was a jolly person to be around - he seemed to uplift other people’s mood without realizing it. “I agree,” you breathe with a chuckle - now sipping on a glass of coffee. 

You lend your hand - waiting for a handshake. “I’m (Your Name), I live in that house.” you point at the four-bedroom bungalow. He smiles at you - joy reaching his eyes. “I’m Harwin. Harwin Strong,” he shakes your hand, quickly inspecting your face. “I live in that house - I have a roommate.” he points at Daemon’s house and you nod. 

He didn’t seem like the type of guy who gets a roommate. “It’s nice meeting you,” you smiled in return. 

The devil possessed you - he lured you in with his kind smile, and now you were about to suck his cock inside a house that you weren't allowed to be in. Gods, the news outlets were going to fuck your reputation. "She's pretty huh?" Daemon tilted his head sideways, acting like you weren't in the room with them.

Harwin responded with an amused chuckle, watching you with your hands on his knees. He opened his legs wider, giving you a clearer view of his hard cock dripping with pre-cum. He cupped your cheeks gently, staring deep into your lust-filled eyes. The tabloids would have to wait - this cock in front of you was fucking delicious. You leaned down slowly, pressing a gentle kiss on his thighs.

"Good girl turning us on," Daemon growls playing with your hair - he's loved you since he was eighteen. All of his fucking teenage fantasies replayed back to this moment - his goddess on her knees like a slave.

Your tongue swirled around, pumping the mass inside your mouth. He closed his eyes and sighed. He could hardly speak with the heaven that he was feeling. You swirled your tongue around - making sure to reach every nerve ending on his penis. He moans your name, forgetting himself in the middle of bliss.

Daemon watches the both of you - turning himself on with the sight.

"Keep going," Harwin pleaded, wrapping his arms around your hair and pumping you on his length. His dick tasted salty and metallic - a faint reminder that he was human and that he tasted like a human. You gag around his length, taking your sweet time in adjusting.

You swirl your tongue again, smiling in content as his eyes flutter. Harwin was a good little boy. You licked the stripe of his length, sucking on his dick like a lollipop - fondling with your clothed pussy. They both turned you on.

You swirl your tongue.

Again.

Again and again, until his breathing heaved and tightened.

You could feel Daemon's hand on your head, bobbing you up and down the length of his roommates' dick. It only took a few moments until Harwin was spasming around your mouth.

"Open," Daemon commanded and you obeyed him - opening your mouth slightly to reveal the milky goodness underneath your tongue. He bites his lips, forcing his finger inside your mouth and splattering the cum inside. He removes his hand, wiping it on your face.

"Swallow, baby." Harwin ordered - and you found yourself obeying everything that they say.

You rise from your kneeling position.

Daemon welcomes you on top of his lap. You could feel his bulge press against you. He stares at Harwin who was still trying to regain his stance from his orgasm. "You good?" he inquires, wrapping his hands around your ass. Bouncy and firm like he likes them.

"Yeah," Harwin replies removing his shirt. "Get around her," Daemon motions, freeing his cock from his pants with ease. "You ever had two men at once," he teased, and you shake your head. "Prepare to be mind-blown," Harwin giggles, pressing his cock on your anus.

You lean slowly against Daemon's chest, providing Harwin with more angle - and Daemon lesser weight. You let out a small whimper, feeling Daemon enter your pussy. He groans feeling your tightness clamp against him.

"Dae," you moan - bouncing against him.

His tip was barely missing your womb, trailing along your cervix - making your eyes roll back.

Thank god for birth control.

He keeps pressing his cock inside - leaving you a moaning mess. He filled you with so much pressure that your cunny couldn't bare another second. You cum - squirting around his cock and leaving a white residue on his thighs.

You were about to collapse into him, but the familiar pressure began building once you feel Harwin behind you.

"Time for me, baby." he hums.

taglist: @schniiipsel @areaderinlove @edum123 @i-yam-awesome @ladystardvsts @rozendiors @iveofficiallylostmymarbles @naturallyspontaneous @feyreduarte @hc-geralt-23 @ethereallocs @tired-ninfa  

[monzamash]

the good, the bad and what could’ve been — lando norris (part two)

summary – nine years. an age gap that you didn’t know would cause so much heartache. you tell yourself that it’s fine, he tells you that he could give you the world but this was a cautionary tale of what could’ve been if you just let love win. pairing – lando norris x you (female reader) chapter rating – 18+ (smut, language, age gap/older woman) word count – over 10k inspired by charlie puth's song called boy. masterlist

part one | part two | part three

Previously... And there you were, lost in the crowd, searching. Lando wondered for a second whether you were looking for him or if your friend had just come over to tell you something and she was coming back. But when your eyes met, you smiled big. Grinning and relieved to see those bright blue eyes drawing you in from across the room, a familiar face to ease your nerves. You glided to him like a magnet magically pulling you both to the halfway point, hands immediately reaching, needy to feel the others touch again.

Winnie’s words rang in your ears, so sure of herself and what she knew about you. Your bad habits. You wanted to spite her and bid Lando farewell but when you watched his tongue swipe across his pouty bottom lip and that boyish smile tug at the corners of his mouth again, you were done for – hook, line and sinker.

“Do you wanna get out of here?”

The soft, distant patter of water coming from the bathroom was what stirred you awake from the slumber you’d fallen into after your unexpected late night rendezvous. You hadn’t planned on falling asleep but the combination of a hangover and finding yourself completely at the mercy of the comfiest bed known to mankind, you were out like a light. Spent. Aching in places never felt before, satisfied, blissfully unaware of the complications that your impulses had caused. But at least you’d gotten a couple of hours of sleep.

Lando, on the other hand had somehow been able to drag his weary body out of the king sized bed you were sprawled out in, nothing covering his skin besides the light scratches that you had left behind as a temporary reminder of your night together. The taut muscles on his strong back contracted as he slid the bathroom door open and closed it quietly behind him.

You took his absence as a chance to find your underwear and the hair tie that was flung across the room at some stage during what you coined ‘an opportunity to get to know each other’. The former was easier to find than the hair tie, which was always destined to be lost in the chaos, hidden somewhere in the darkness. The apartment was pin-drop quiet – the only sound was the shower running and your quiet footsteps tapping across the dark hickory floorboards, exiting the bedroom.

The descent down the staircase nearly did you in, back aching and knees like jelly but you made it into the lounge where his jeans had been thrown over the glass balustrade from above, clothing strewn over the couch where your night had begun, images of how it started flooding back and making your cheeks flush at the memory.

“Before we go any further, how old are you?” You fumbled the question against Lando’s lips, wanting nothing more than to take this to the bedroom, desperate to feel an ounce of rigour for the first time in months.

“I’m 23,” He mumbled back, mouth attached to your neck as your eyebrows furrowed, calculating and crunching the numbers, attempting to put some distance between you and the ravenous man clinging to your skin.

“What!? You’re twenty –” “Just… don’t think about it.”

He knew you were older from the way you commanded a room and from the way you kissed him. You weren’t like the other girls he’d been involved with during his time on the road, jet setting across the world. You were a woman – powerful, sexy, demanding of more than the mediocrity you were usually served and he’d convinced himself that he was up for the challenge. Now he needed to convince you.

“I’m an adult – you’re an adult. And this feels really good, yeah? Especially when I kiss you here… and here.”

He was selling it, and selling it well – his long, slender fingers traced your ticklish ribs, palms slowly travelling down your lower back, voice deep and smooth, lips ghosting your ear, whispering all the right things. If your quick maths was correct, nine years wasn’t too crazy. You could work with that as long as nobody else found out.

“Let me show you how good I can make you feel.”

You shook your head, sighing to yourself at how ridiculous the aftermath looked. The carnage spread across the room, corner to corner representing how primal the two of you felt in the moment, ripping clothes and grabbing every inch of skin possible. Tipsy but sober enough to know that it was exactly what you needed, craved, giggling like naughty teenagers while you tried not to slip off the couch and ruin the steamy kiss that was sending shivers down your spine, even now.

Enamoured really was the only way to describe how you felt about Lando under the guise of inebriated secrecy but now, in the cold light of day, you were filled with confusion – not regret but definitely not elation either. Mixed emotions that you needed to sift through in the comfort of your own home and away from the crime scene. That would help, you thought as you collected your skirt and bra from the coffee table, slipping it all on in a rush.

While you shuffled around trying to find your handbag, Lando stood at the top of the stairs, watching you scramble around his living room. He paused for a moment, contemplating whether he should stop you. He wanted to, of course but watching the person who he’d shared the night with so obviously needing to make a quick escape made him question what last night meant. He had a good idea of what it meant to him – possibly the beginnings of at the very least a budding friendship, one that may have other benefits attached but a friendship with his neighbour, none the less.

And deep down he wanted to ask you that question, and make sure what happened last night was okay. He hadn’t been left in the dust like this before, always having to gently hint at the person he’d invited into his home to leave without seeming like a dick. But now he was on the receiving end and it didn’t feel great. It felt fucking horrible. And he couldn’t let you leave like that, not if he wanted to know how you were feeling.

You heard footsteps padding down the stairs, the sound causing your head to whip around and catch Lando’s eyes on you. He was shirtless, hair dripping wet from the steaming shower, skin reddened and you could almost bet that he was warm to the touch. His soft, silken skin that melted like butter under your fingernails was shadowed by the darkness, the room barely visible if it wasn’t for the street lamp outside the open window. But you could still see his steely expression – crushed, maybe a little irritated but you’d really only seen him smiling or in a state of pure ecstasy, feeling untainted pleasure. You didn’t know him at all, yet had shared something so intimate. Every instinct was telling you to run but he was so cute.

God, you were beyond conflicted.

Lando had pulled on a pair of joggers that were riding low on his hips and a breathy "wow," was all he said as he jumped off the last step, shaking his head and causing the droplets of water to trickle down his neck. He cleared his throat and shuffled into the lounge room, eyes trained on you – seeking some kind of excuse that would stroke his ego, anything other than you never wanting to see him again.

His tone implied that maybe he thought you were going to scurry away into the night, which was a pretty reasonable assumption. And when you glanced up at him again, you were met with an incredulous stare as he itched the scratches you’d decorated his shoulder with, only now noticing the marks you’d left behind. You averted your eyes, stuffed your phone into the back pocket of your skirt, arms quickly sliding into your leather jacket that you noticed slung over the back of the couch for safekeeping.

It was still dark outside and you knew how bad it all looked, optics wise. Handbag hoisted on your shoulder, eyes darting towards the door. 10 past 5, the analogue clock hanging from the farthest wall read. You were exhausted, hungover and really not in the mood to justify your abrupt exit but you couldn’t ignore the effect you were having on the man standing in front of you, silently waiting for you to explain yourself. Pained. You owed him an explanation, at least.

Lando bent down and picked his jeans up from the creaky floorboards below your feet, folding them neatly over the back of the chair he was standing behind, peeking up towards the clock with you. It was way too early to be up, and there was a part of him that wanted to entice you back to his warm bed and pretend like this awkward interaction never even happened but he could tell from your bloodshot eyes that you were headed for an Irish exit – and he couldn’t stop you.

"I was going to say goodbye," You whispered with as much conviction as you could muster in your drowsy state, unable to truly comfort him with your words.

Lando scoffed under his breath, humoured by your blatant lie and gave you an unconvinced nod, "Whatever you say."

There was a growing silence between the two of you as he walked around and took a seat on the empty couch where your night together began, head in his hands and his fingers tugging hard on his damp curls. He was frustrated and a little confused by the mixed messages. You admitted post-sesh, that you’d enjoyed yourself more than you had in months after the third time he had your writhing under his touch, screaming out his name and the Lords in quick succession. Tangled in his bamboo sheets, paralysed until eventually finding your breath again.

"Is this your usual shtick or should I take it personally?" He asked out of the silence with a wondering look, searching your face for some kind of reassurance that he wasn’t imagining all of this.

You sighed and adjusted your jacket again – fidgeting bought you some time while you figured out how honest you wanted to be with him. Your guard always went back up after a random hook up with a guy you barely knew and you never, ever felt the need to explain yourself but when you scanned his darkening blue eyes, you felt the air being sucked out of your lungs. Breathless and wishing you could wipe away the anguish on his beautiful face. This was a ‘you’ problem and he didn’t deserve to be swept up in your mess, at least not yet.

"Typically I leave them to muddle over that question but I can’t even try and pretend like this..." You pointed between the two of you, "... wasn't obscenely hot."

For some reason, unknown, you needed him to know that – or at least know part of the truth. The other part was that you had severe commitment issues and sharing that with a guy who you’ve just met wasn’t the ideal way to introduce yourself. You’d scared them off in the past with that and you weren’t about to make that mistake again – not when there was a good chance of seeing this person every time you left your apartment.

Lando’s eyes shot up from the floor and the toothy grin on his face that had lured you back to his apartment in the first place indicated that he was pretty pleased with your answer. And no doubt happy with his work, which had been outstanding if you were being candid. That boyish bravado, the one that had you pinning him down and reminding him who was boss only a few hours ago, had returned and you couldn’t stop your own smile mirroring his.

"Well I did think if you were pretending to enjoy it that you deserved an Oscar," Lando joked back, finding his feet again, “That’s the acting award, right?”

You nodded and readjusted your bag again, still with the intent of getting the fuck out of there. You’d done your part and reassured him that what happened last night was great but anything extra would’ve looked like this was more than a hook up, and you couldn’t encourage that with a guy nine years your junior. Not in a million years.

"If I can't convince you to stay a little longer, at least let me make you a cup of tea before you go," He offered, gesturing towards the kitchen that was cloaked in darkness. Truth be told, you hadn’t even registered that there was a kitchen there, only really being shown the bedroom and nothing else. Your priorities were different in the heat of the moment, a house tour falling very quickly to wayside but you were tempted to see how the other half lived, curiosity getting the better of your judgement.

“Sure.”

You sat back as he made you both a brew from the expensive looking kettle tucked away on his kitchen counter and you discovered pretty quickly that you were sitting in what could only be described as a glorified bachelor pad. There were red flags everywhere – the large, extravagant gaming unit was the first thing that caught your eye, followed by the obscene amount of sneakers and motorsports paraphernalia on display in the walkway. You didn’t mind someone having hobbies or passions, but it was borderline obsessive – and excessively boujee. He was obviously doing well for himself financially, one would have to be to live in your neighbourhood, but that didn’t distract from the fact that he was clearly in a different phase in his life, and you didn’t hold that against him. It just wasn’t where you were anymore.

The only saving grace was that your hangover hadn't been too bad considering how much you ended up drinking last night and you thanked your lucky stars. It gave you the strength to be able to process your surroundings and maybe, somehow make a clean break without hurting anyone. Lando was cute and unbelievably good in bed but you needed to find someone safe, someone unwavering who could put your mind at ease about the expectations of an adult relationship – something you’d never really had and definitely not one that the young man standing in front of you had ever experienced, you presumed. Dangerously. And entertaining him would only delay the inevitable and that wasn’t fair on either of you.

"Milk and sugar?" Lando’s ambiguously accented voice startled you out of that deep, pessimistic train of thought – for the best. He was steeping the tea bag and making sure that everything was perfect so he didn’t scare you off. He could sense that you were as good as gone but he was trying.

"Um, just a dash of milk please," You replied softly and he turned around to retrieve the milk, attempting to keep his cool.

He didn’t do this very often, entertaining a woman’s company, especially in his own home. It was sacred to him, in a way. A place he could escape to; where he could be himself with no judgement. His other apartments around the world didn’t even begin to compare to being home in the motherland. Just around the corner was where he went to school, only for a few grades but they were his formative years. The ones where he experienced his first crush, first girlfriend, nearly his first kiss. A couple of streets over was where him, his brother and their parents used to live before his sisters came along, then they upsized to a house in the country, leaving the city behind with their four kids. All these memories meant that he really didn’t do this often and you could tell from the way he was nervously biting the inside of his cheek.

He was obviously trying to make a good impression after your awkward start to the morning but you should’ve been the only one in the room feeling like an idiot. He was sweet, awkward but welcoming and you wanted to make him feel at ease. But as he closed the heavy fridge door, his shoulder caught the handle and slammed it into his side, causing him to exclaim in pain. Echos of his voice filtering through the spacious kitchen.

“Fuck!” He shouted, mumbling incoherently as he composed himself, "I'm that fuckin' exhausted that I’ve lost all motor function," He complained, holding his shoulder and eventually, once the pain subsided, started to laugh lightly.

You had jumped up from the bar stool you were perched on, concern furrowed into your eyebrows until he turned back around. Then you couldn't help but chuckle at the puppy dog eyes and the exaggerated pout on his lips. In that moment, you had an epiphany – a gut feeling. You didn't want this to be the last time you were sat up at his breakfast bar, watching him make you a cup of tea after an ecstasy-filled night together. It was powerful, almost knocked you off your feet when you felt it. Winnie’s words rattled around in your head as you narrowed your eyes and smiled – trust your gut.

“I explicitly remember you saying last night that you’d been training hard recently and that nothing could stop you… Is there a small chance that you exaggerated your stamina?” Your tone was teasing, the question nothing more than a way to bait him into reliving the vision of him having his way with you, memorising every sensation he felt as he poured the milk into your cup.

"Hey, I was going great after the first couple of rounds but that third one..." Lando puffed, cheeks big and a mischievous smirk niggling at his lips, now taunting you with the memories and hoping you were feeling the same heat that he was.

He pushed the scalding teacup across the counter and into your hands and you welcomed it with a smile. You were exhausted and a brew really was the perfect way to wake up the senses. And a perfect way to mark the beginning of whatever the hell this was.

"Yeah you did most of the work on the last one so thank you for that and thank you for the cuppa," You replied and brought the cup to your smirking lips, Lando doing the same.

"My pleasure."

Much to your surprise, and Lando’s astonishment, that wasn’t the last time you found yourself perched on a bar stool, having breakfast with your handsome neighbour. It became a regular occurrence for the next week at least, exchanging numbers and texting any time either of you felt the desire to get reacquainted again. He had a week with you before he had to leave the county – a business trip, he vaguely explained but you were content with that. You didn’t need to know the in’s and out’s of his schedule – you really just wanted him, preferably naked in your bed.

“It’ll only be for a couple of weeks and then I’ll be back,” Lando yawned as you nuzzled into his neck, pressing soft kisses across his jaw, “Hopefully you don’t forget about me.” 

That statement stopped you in your tracks, you had agreed on no feelings – no strings attached. You were having a bit of fun, harmless, no questions asked kind of fun and you thought you were on the same page with that as you pulled away and looked at the smirking devil laying beside you, bare naked and wrapped around your finger, “Very funny.”

“Got you.”

You blinked a couple of times, sighing at how soft he looked bathing in the sunrays sneaking through your curtains, “You are so pretty.”

Lando stifled a laugh and tucked away the stray strands of your hair that he’d accidentally pulled into your face when he shuffled under the sheets, snaking a strong around your waist, “I’ve got nothing on you.”

A hum melodically rumbled in your chest as you looked up at the ceiling, hand wrapped around his forearm, contentedly circling the skin that was warm to the touch. Lightly haired, freckled, tanned – perfectly complimenting the crisp linen sheets that you’d put on the bed before he pranced over the road and rang your apartment number, buzzing it one too many times and feeling like he was coming across a little too keen. But he was excited to see you, dying to touch you. Truth be told, he didn’t want to leave London for work. The last thing he wanted was to be flogged by his trainer, reviewing footage and analysing data from what felt like months ago in Monaco.

It really hadn’t been that long but you had waltzed into his life early December, like the perfect storm, disrupting all of his plans for a Dubai new years. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself but he couldn’t deny that staying in London with you for New Year's had crossed his mind because here you were; lazily loving on him, kissing every inch of skin that was in reach of your perfect lips, making him forget about the string that may or may not be attached. The cushy bubble you had created together was everything he could’ve asked for and he didn’t want to burst it.

“What are your plans for new years?”

His own words shocked him as the question hung in the air, his subconscious filter no longer functioning the way it was supposed to. For a second he thought maybe he’d said it in his head but he knew when you craned your neck and looked up at him, wide eyed that he’d said it aloud.

“I usually get sloshed somewhere in the city with friends but the last couple have been quiet with work and everyone else doing their own thing…”

“Maybe we could get sloshed together.” There was no point in being coy, he thought. He’d blurted it out now so he may as well shoot his shot. Carpe momentum.

“I love that idea.”

Love. The three letter word that had been on the tip of your tongue all week. You’d stopped yourself so many times in the throes of passion, when the overwhelming feeling to shout it from the rooftops almost compelled you to give in. But that would've been a superficial proclamation of love. You loved what he was doing to you, how he set your body alight and it would only complicate matters, you told yourself. And there are other words to use than the cursed one.

But here you were. Too stunned to speak. Lando quirked an eyebrow and chuckled, knowing you’d slipped up but he found himself sadistically enjoying the way you squirmed in the silence.

“I love it too.”

“Don’t push it.”

“I’m doing no such thing,” He defended, a cheeky grin plastered across his face as he placed a swift kiss to your pursed lips, “Flip over for a quickie because I’ve gotta go and pack for my flight this afternoon.”

Of course you did as you were told, leg hoisted up while he slipped on a condom, his free hand angling your head back so he could smother you in kisses as he filled you to the brim. Moaning names back and forth like a symphony and unintelligible sweet nothings, empty promises disappearing into the air as you both came, gripping sheets and skin, hands clasped together beside your dizzy head.

Goodbyes were hard. But they were even harder when you couldn’t say what you wanted to or when you didn’t have clarity on whom you were saying goodbye to. A farewell to a friend was different to a lover, different to a stranger – but Lando had it covered as you stood silently in your doorway, about to burst the bubble.

“So I’ll see ya,” He whispered before capturing your bottom lip in a sweet, meaningful kiss. It was slow, sensual. Intentional. The kind you give to a person that you know you want to see again, share this moment with again. A small reminder of what you’ll be missing and yearning for while he’s away. Longing, lasting. A teasing pinch to the ribs brought you back to reality and a breathy yelp from you broke the kiss.

“Maybe I will forget about you.” You jeered, lightly punching his tensed stomach as he laughed, instantly noticing your flushed cheeks. Lando slipped his hand down your forearm and grasped your fingers that were dangling by your side, lonely, giving them a soft, reassuring squeeze.

“You won’t.”

And in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

Nervous didn’t even begin to explain the feeling coursing through your body. On the brink of a panic attack maybe described your current state of being a little better. You were pacing up and down your kitchen, hands on hips, looking around at all of the people who you loved the most in the world. All of them smiling, having a great time, seemingly oblivious to the fact you were losing your mind.

It was New Years Eve – you should’ve been thrilled to be giving 2022 the middle finger. It hadn’t been a great year for you but the future was looking brighter each and every day now that you weren’t chained to a job that gave you nothing but a headache.

You were also, for the first time in years, in a situationship that made you happy and that person had given you more to look forward to in a few weeks than some people had given you in a lifetime. But there was one glaringly obvious gap that you were worried about. Sure, in the cloak of darkness, you could be free with Lando, be who you wanted to be but you knew there would be side glances, maybe even some snickers when they met him and now, here you were, regretting this whole party and getting yourself into such predicament.

“You might need to go and get some more booze because your friends are absolutely going for it out there,” Your co-worker and friend, Rae enthused as she walked into your kitchen, stopping when she caught you pacing neurotically and chewing on your nails, “Are you okay, babe?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine. Um–” Your train of thought was interrupted by the buzzing of your intercom, “I’ll get that and then go get some more drinks.”

Rae nodded and returned to the gathering out in your small but adequate courtyard, quietly worried about her friend. You had been through it these last couple of months and she only wanted the best for you – hence encouraging you to throw the party in the first place. A great excuse to get everyone you love in a room, she said – It’ll be so much fun, she said. And she was probably right, except for the fact your mind was racing a million miles an hour, contemplating whether you should message Lando and call the whole thing off.

You swung the front door open and there he was, arms filled with boxes of Strongbow cider and his roommate, Max in tow, also carrying a couple of bottles himself, “Happy New Years Eve,” Lando greeted, smiling big and giving you a quick wink as you stepped to the side and let both boys in.

“I was just about to go out and get more drinks but wow,” You sighed, watching Lando put the last of the cases in your fridge, “Absolute lifesavers.”

“Couldn’t show up empty handed,” He returned, still grinning from ear to ear, “We are great party guests.” That much was true.

You hummed and glanced over at Max who shrugged and made his way over to you for a hug, looking out at the already buzzing party, “Sorry we’re late by the way. This idiot had to change his shirt, like, 50 times…” He explained and by doing that, earned himself a swift punch in the arm.

“Not true,” Lando grumbled, garnering the attention of Rae who was waving the three of you out into the courtyard where everyone was talking amongst themselves, dancing to the loud music.

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t stay inside forever and would eventually have to do introductions, “Come out and meet everyone.”

Lando felt his heart start to race as he followed behind you, lost like a puppy but putting on a brave face for your friends. Neither of you had really been in this position yet, introducing each other as, what? Friends? Neighbours? Lovers? It was still so unclear but he was quietly pleased that it wasn’t him in the hot seat – you were probably better at this shit than him anyways, he thought.

The first time you met Max was at breakfast the morning after one of your many back to back rendezvous’, sans pants and pinned against the counter top, Lando’s hands exploring the expanse of your naked back under his hoodie. In his defence, he didn’t think anyone was home but he was wrong, so very wrong. But you carefully untangled yourself from him, tugged down the hoodie and introduced yourself to Max, amply apologising for being half-naked in his kitchen but doing so gracefully. He was in awe of how cool, calm and collected you were – you were a dream.

But this was very different. You had dozens of eyes on you, keen to meet the two men who quite frankly looked like they could’ve been university students, decked out in hoodies, jeans and sneakers. Compared to the button up shirts and dress shoes worn by your other guests, they were the odd ones out but you didn’t care and nobody else should’ve either – especially if they were truly your friends.

“Everyone – this is Lando and Max, who are my neighbours; guys, this is everyone. They brought more booze so thank them profusely please,” You laughed awkwardly and the group cheered, easing yours’ and Lando’s nerves.

A few of the husbands and boyfriends were quick to make their way over to meet Lando one-on-one. You weren’t exactly across the details but your best friend Winnie, had stalked instagram to find out everything she could about your mystery man. She was the one who had sent you his profile and you realised why he was so elusive about his career and why he had rows and rows of helmets displayed in his study. You hadn’t told him that you knew who he was, purely because it hadn’t come up but he assumed you knew. But to you, he was just Lando – your friendly neighbour who happened to be railing you every night. Not a famous, professional driver who was seemingly adored by millions, including your friends' husbands.

Rae, who was always a beacon of light, was the first to come over and introduce herself and her husband to Lando. Max had already struck up a conversation with your younger brother who had come along with his girlfriend, and little by little you could see the two newcomers blending in – crisis averted.

“It’s about time we had more people my age coming to these things,” Your brother teased, not knowing how much of a gut-punch his observation was to you. Lando noticed the way your face dropped and recovered in a split second as you collected your thoughts. Your brother was right; the median age of your friends was over 30 but pointing that out, for some reason, hurt. Crisis not averted.

“Yeah, well I’m glad you’ve made a friend.” You forced a smile. They were closer to your brothers’ age, only two years difference and it made you feel uneasy, like you were cradle snatching or doing something wrong when the reality was that you both consenting, hot blooded adults.

Just as Lando was trying to find an excuse to pull you away from the conversation, he heard your name being called from across the courtyard. A blonde woman with blindingly white teeth was waving you over, feverishly and he knew you couldn’t ignore her. And almost as if you were sharing a telepathic line, you glanced his way and sent him a sympathetic look before shuffling over to the small group huddled in the corner amongst the lush vines crawling your tall fence.

“What are you lot doing over here?” You asked with a soft chuckle punctuating your question, “You guys look like you’re having a mothers club meeting in the bushes.”

“Winnie just told us that you’re sleeping with one of them!” Monique, an old friend from university whisper-yelled, flabbergasted by the rumour, “Which one is it!?”

You flashed your eyes towards your best friend who was holding her hands up in defence, mouthing sorry but you simply sighed and looked back at the group of women who were waiting for your answer. The last thing you wanted to do was indulge them but you were stuck between a rock and hard place now, no thanks to Winnie who you thought had your back and your secret under lock and key.

“The one in the black hoodie but it’s new and don’t all look at once!”

That was wishful thinking because on cue, they all swivelled around to cop a peek, none of them being subtle in the slightest. “I cannot believe you have a boy toy,” Another one of your friends whispered, unable to read whether she was jealous or being judgemental until she punched your arm, “Lucky bitch.”

You chuckled and looked back at Monique who was tutting, “I really thought you were trying to find someone long term, hun. Don’t you want that?”

“Well, yeah I do but I didn’t expect to meet him or for any of this to happen, but it has and he’s great. I’m more open to seeing where it goes than I was a couple of weeks ago…” You confessed naively to a group of women who all had perfectly orchestrated lives. None of them could imagine striking up a relationship with a younger man.

“Sweetie, he looks like a private schoolboy who just graduated last year AND he’s famous… You can’t seriously think there’s more to it than just sex, right?” Monique asked, almost rhetorically like the answer was obviously no.

You looked over at Winne who was taking a sip of her wine and avoiding your eye line, realising as you scanned the group that all the girls were dodging you, busying themselves with a drink or the hem of their dress. All of them silently siding with Monique and you had no choice but to agree with her, holding back the tears that were pricking the corners of your eye.

You scoffed and awkwardly shuffled in place, humiliated, “No obviously not. It won’t go on much longer I wouldn’t think…” You felt nauseous.

“Thank god for that,” Monique exhaled and grasped your shoulder, “You’ll get your life back on track and find the right guy eventually, hun. You’re just going through that self-destructive phase right now where you make stupid decisions but you’ll come out of it.”

Now you really needed to go throw up.

“Sure,” You smiled through gritted teeth, “I better go check on Rae in the kitchen… I’ll be back in a minute.” The girls nodded and went back to their original conversation until you were gone, no doubt returning to that sad excuse of an intervention once you were out of earshot.

You wouldn’t be back. How could you face them after that? The niggling feeling that they would judge you if they found out about Lando had eaten away at you all day but hearing them confirm your suspicions hurt more than you could’ve ever imagined. They were supposed to be your friends and if it wasn’t for the backyard of people you were entertaining and the fact it was New Years Eve, you would’ve packed up shop and told them all to fuck off.

Instead, you had to grin and bear it, pretend like the people you thought cared about you the most hadn’t been so disappointing. You’d run upstairs, holding back tears as you stood in front of your en suite mirror, trying to find the answers. They didn’t know Lando from a stranger on the street so why did it upset you this much? Maybe it was because they were just validating the feelings you’d been suppressing since you struck up this back and forth with Lando. Maybe it was the wake up call that you needed. Maybe–

“Hey you."

You felt a gentle hand brush down your back, saving you from the spiral you were tumbling down, “I haven’t had the chance to tell you how pretty you look tonight.”

Lando’s words caused a small smile to tug on the corners of your lips as you wiped your eyes and slowly turned around in his arms, “That’s cute.”

He could tell you’d been crying, or at the very least you were visibly upset about something. And he’d noticed how quickly you retreated inside after your little pow-wow with your friends, knowing the only reason you’d run inside like that was if your puppy, Chomp had been causing trouble. But she had been attached to his feet all night; picking him as her favourite human the very first night he stayed over.

“Ah, shit,” Lando huffed, “Of course you look beautiful when you cry – I’m in big trouble,” He joked, softly, pulling you in for a cuddle and hoping he didn’t upset you any further. You stifled a laugh into his chest and he breathed a sigh of relief – soothingly brushing his hands down your back, over the denim jacket.

“I’m an ugly crier usually,” You sniffled, feeling way too vulnerable and broken to be venting to your fuck buddy of all people – you needed to shut this whole conversation down, “But I’m fine.”

“You’re obviously not,” Lando swiftly served back, standing his ground as you tried to side step him out of the bathroom, “Do you want to talk about it?”

A soft exhale slipped past your lips and you didn’t put up much of a fight because he wasn’t pushing you. And truth be told, you didn’t have the energy. Between the stress of organising the party and the uncomfortable conversations, there wasn’t a whole lot left in the tank. And Lando was here, comforting you in your moment of need. He was your knight in shining armour again – just like the night you stumbled home drunk and lost your keys. He had your back when no one else did lately and that meant something to you. More than you could articulate or really even confess to.

“I would much rather talk about how your week was. Tell me all about it while I re-do my mascara.”

Lando indulged you in the mundane of his week and revealed small details about his life that you hadn’t heard before. You’d known him for a month now and didn’t realise he had siblings – three of them, no less. And you didn’t really know the extent of his work or where he’d even gone last week but what seemed like a chore to him, sounded exciting to you. A fly-in, fly-out trip to his apartment in Monaco!? What the actual fuck, you scoffed when he told you what he'd been up to. It just showed how little you knew about the man sleeping beside you, comforting you.

“We better get back down there before people start to gossip,” You winked and pulled your bathroom door open, strutting towards the stairs. There was no way you were going to let a little drama ruin your night, not when they were the ones speaking out of turn.

“There she is,” Lando clapped, thrilled to see your confidence had returned. He was pleased that his little pep talk and distraction could bring you back to being the chill, fun-loving woman he’d started to fall for. Hiding those feelings was getting harder and harder the longer he spent time hanging out with you, ambiguously labelled.

Lando watched you gracefully float around the courtyard, chatting to friends, flashing that smile he’d loved from the second he laid eyes on you in that convenience store, pensively deciding on what sweets to buy. Max noticed his best friend longing for you and opted not to rib him for it, knowing how quickly Lando fell for a girl, especially one as brilliant as you. He was monogamous for the most part, only really dabbling in his slut era for a brief time in Monaco.

With you, he felt different. And the way you’d waltzed into his life confirmed that maybe this was fate. That you and him were meant to meet and fall in love, make a go of it. He knew he was getting ahead of himself but you were otherworldly, too good to be true. He didn’t like thinking about the latter – that thought alone making his brows furrow with concern. You were real - he’d touched you, felt nearly every part of you and right now, you were looking at him from across the cobbled courtyard, staring into his soul as you counted down to midnight.

“3, 2, 1… Happy New Year!”

Lando pointed his beer bottle your way, a silent cheers and nod following. You mirrored his action, wishing you could shuffle over and kiss his soft, smiling lips. And he wished you could too but he knew he had to bide his time, maybe stick around and use the excuse that you needed help cleaning up, hoping to god your friends were selfish enough to leave you with the mess.

And most of them were besides Rae and her husband who insisted on staying to help, like an angel sent from above. But you knew they had a long drive back to her parents’ house in Watford, choosing to spend New Years Eve with you and the next day with her family. You loved her for that and definitely couldn’t put her to work after changing her plans to keep you company. Little did she know that you had everything you really needed in your new man.

“I will see you next week, my love. Drive safe,” You kissed her cheek and gave her husband’s hand a squeeze before closing the front door and returning to the kitchen where most of the carnage was.

The only difference now was that it was just Lando standing there, hunched over the sink, sans Max who had been standing there before you walked Rae to the door. “Where did Max go?”

Lando twisted his hips and attempted to blow a curl that had fallen in his face away, hands dripping wet from the soapy water. “Uh, he had to go…” He unconvincingly replied, causing your confused expression to soften. Two could play this game.

“Rude that he didn’t say goodbye to his favourite neighbour. I’ll have to call him out next time I see him…” You trailed off, coaxing the truth out of the gorgeous man who was reaching for the tea towel you were offering, the smallest smirk creeping onto his lips.

“I may have told him to fuck off…” Lando’s voice lowered an octave as you took a step closer to him, “So we could, you know – be alone. But he was honestly fine with it and said thanks for having him…”

“Wow,” You whispered, flirtatiously. “That’s kinda devious, Norris. Didn’t think you had it in you to be so forward but I like it.”

“Yeah?”

Lando was hanging onto your every word, watching your eyes wander down his chest to his belt buckle, almost like you were sizing him up and he was twitching at the idea of you taking what you wanted. It ignited a fuse deep within and he decided to close the small gap between you – there wasn’t much room left but having you flirting with him, leaning on your bench top sparked an unexpected urge that he didn’t have before he met you. Desperation. He smoothed his hands over the soft material of your shirt, clutching your hips and tugged you into his body, pinning your backside between him and the bench before leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“I’ve been learning from the best.”

His voice was low, husky and definitely adding to the tingling sensation between your legs. The sight of him washing dishes had you soaked and now you were pathetically drenched, hoping to the heavens above that he’d fuck you senseless and stay the night. Lando leaned in and brushed his nose against yours, hovering for a second before ghosting his lips over your eager ones. He always did this – tested the waters even still now, letting you seal the first layer of consent with a kiss. You liked how respectful he was, and revelled in the feeling of being appreciated. Until you got down to business; then there were no rules – just sex.

“Show me what you’ve learned so far…”

A small chuckle slipped from Lando’s mouth as he nipped down your neck, hands making quick work of undressing you. Yours were the same – feverishly tinkering with buttons and zippers, thick cotton hoodies being thrown across the kitchen and into a pile. The short, sharp panting was the only sound in the house besides the party pumping next door, the vibration from the speaker system making the walls shake, which took you back to the night you and Lando first slept together. Those images were burned into your memory, as was this one you were about to make right here, right now.

“You are dripping wet, gorgeous.” Lando hummed into your ear as he slipped his thick fingers into your panties, stretching them out so he could feel your entire heat on his palm.

“So are you,” You whimpered, spreading his excitement over his blushing tip with your thumb and stroking him up towards your tummy, lips locked and tongues battling for dominance.

Lando had a pretty cock – a lot prettier than most of the men you’d been with, something you noted when you had him in your mouth for the first time, blowing him in the hallway of his apartment building. Clean and manicured, but not completely bare which you appreciated but would never verbalise. He had the perfect amount of everything, not too big and not too small, not too hairy, not too bald – just right.

“Wanna go upstairs?” Lando mumbled against your lips, feeling himself teetering a little too close to the edge. But you broke the kiss and shook your head as you reached down and tugged on the jeans that were sitting on his thighs.

“I wanna get a little bit spicy,” You whispered and waited for Lando to kick off his sneakers, jeans and belt following quickly after, adding to that ever-growing pile of clothes on your kitchen floor. You stood back, admiring the man who was wearing nothing but a white undershirt, standing in your kitchen. “You are ridiculously sexy.”

Lando chuckled and sauntered back over to where you were leaning against the counter, teasingly stroking himself and causing your front teeth to clamp down on your bottom lip. “You’ve done this to me,” He growled, glancing down at his achingly hard cock, cheeks flushed, eyebrow raised, “And how could you not? Look at you...”

The pit in your stomach started to twist as Lando reached out and grabbed you again; firmer than last time and wrangled you into a strong, passionate kiss. It was on – no more flirting, no more foreplay. You could tell his intentions had shifted and you were more than up for the change in pace, fingers entangled in his messy curls, harshly tugging and swallowing the moans rippling from his throat. His fingertips were brushing down your naked sides, teasing the wire on your bra before you pulled back from the kiss and turned around, arse pressed against his manhood, bent over at the waist.

“I am dreaming,” Lando breathed, hands planted firmly on your plump, ripe for the grabbing cheeks, kneading them slowly in his warm palms. You moaned at the sensation of his dick pressed against your thigh, craving more than just his touch.

So you reached behind, grasped his wrist and widened you stance a little more, hoping to give him a not so subtle hint of what you wanted, “I need you baby, I want you to take me like this.” You encouraged by moving his hand to your heat and he quickly cottoned on to what you were doing, fingertips immediately going back to work on your clit.

“Oh yeah?” Lando mocked and pressed perfectly precise kisses down your spine as he continued to pleasure himself and you with his hands. Without warning he slid his stiff cock between your folds, rubbing in slow, rhythmic strokes and grabbing your hips, the skin like putty under his fingertips, “Like this?”

Uh-huh, you moaned and gripped the cold marbled countertop – the sound of your slickness making you even wetter than you already were. Lando dragged his hands down your back as he teased you, smiling to himself knowing you couldn’t see how fucking stoked he was to have you like this, moaning his name.

“That feels amazing,” He confessed, his desire had taken over and he couldn’t even try and pretend like this wasn’t something he’d daydreamed about last week, laying in bed, hundreds of kilometres away from you. You were his fantasy and simultaneously, somehow, his reality.

Lando suddenly had the realisation that he wasn’t prepared for a spontaneous kitchen fuck and cursed himself for not thinking ahead. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt you rocking back on him raw, arousal covering his cock so perfectly that he could slide in, as you were, way too easily but he knew better than to pull a stunt like that. He wasn’t a monster.

“Um, so I don’t have a condom on me but I can run upstairs and –

“No, it’s fine,” You quickly interrupted before craning your neck to face him, sheepishly biting your lip, “I mean, you don’t have to wear one unless you want to… I’m on birth control, have been for centuries.” Your joke garnered a stifled laugh from Lando as he nodded and gave your hip a reassuring squeeze.

“Cool.” His smirk was small as he tried to hide how stirred he was by the idea of fucking you like this, uninhibited. It was the stuff of his wildest dreams and here you were, laying it out for him on a silver platter. He was feasting like a king.

“But if you’re gonna keep teasing me like that I’ll have to take over.”

Your words snapped Lando out of his lust-filled trance, startling him a little bit and you couldn’t help but giggle at how wide-eyed he was. He looked adorable as he glanced your way and gripped the base of his cock, rolling his eyes sarcastically before teasing your hole, “Oh, I’m savouring this, sweetheart. I don’t think you understand how fucking sexy you look bent over like this and I wanna make sure I remember every little detail.”

Hmmm, you replied licking your lips and bucking your arse back for dramatic effect, “Who said this would be the last time you get to have me like this, huh? Because I can definitely see it happening again if you fuck me good.”

Lando smiled wickedly as he put you out of your misery and pushed forward into your tight, warm pussy but his expression quickly fell into concentration the deeper he went, feeling you clenching around his swollen dick. That first thrust was the toughest to overcome after such an arousing build up, every bit of will power being summoned but you took him by surprise and pushed back slowly, teasing yourself and Lando in one smooth stroke.

“You take me so good, baby.” He growled, watching as he disappeared into you. The sweet slap of skin colliding.

A small chuckle slipped from your parted lips at the compliment, confidence always skyrocketing through the roof when you had him like this. In the short amount of time knowing Lando, you’d learned that he liked to praise and be praised, which was right up your street. You loved it too and it’d become a big part of your sex life with him, egging each other on, heating things up.

“Keep fucking me with that perfect dick, just like that…” You groaned at the deep, languid strokes Lando was doing you with, the pace fastening and making your knees buckle and hands shake.

Whispered words of encouragement filled the air, mixed with the sound of skin slapping and loud moans echoing through the dark, empty apartment. You were perspiring even though it was cold outside, both panting through batted breath, trying to hold onto your highs as the surge of pleasure ripped down your spine. It was nearly impossible with the practically pornographic sounds slipping from Lando’s throat and the pace he was setting. Your head was spinning.

Lando’s hips were snapping hard against your arse, fingertips almost definitely leaving bruises on your doughy hips, making sure you felt every single inch of his dick slamming into your cunt. You had reached back and gripped his wrist, white knuckling his tanned skin; you needed something to hold onto as you fought back, feeling his soft tip hitting that sweet spot he always seemed to find for you, causing a loud, animalistic groan to slip from your parted lips.

“Jesus Christ, Lando. Just like that, just like that, just like that! Don’t fucking stop!”

“I won’t,” He breathed, albeit knowing that he wasn’t going to be able to keep up the speed much longer but unrelenting in his movements, praying that he was doing you the way you deserved. Giving it his all and more until you let go of his wrist and placed your fingertips on his abdomen, slowing him down.

“I’m really fucking close,” You warned, whimpering through the tangled hair that had fallen in your face, circling your hips and trying to unlock the primal instinct you knew Lando had, “You feel so good inside me, baby.”

With those words whispered, you pushed yourself up from the counter and craned your neck around so you could press a sloppy kiss to Lando’s lips. His hands came around and settled on your stomach, cock buried deep inside you, warming and stilled as he explored your mouth with his tongue. You pulled away and brushed your nose with his, trying to find the right words as your fingernails scratched the back of his neck, twirling his damp curls.

“I want to feel you deeper,” You whispered and Lando’s eyebrows crinkled with confusion, “I’ve only got what I’m working with, baby…” He joked back, making you chuckle into his jaw.

“That’s not what I mean…”

Lando shrugged as you bent back over and hoisted your knee up onto the countertop, “Just go slow and see how deep you can go.”

“Oh my fuuucking god,” Lando whined as he caught sight of you spread out for him, hustling him to fuck you as deep as he possibly could. A simple request but it was nearly enough to trigger his high as he closed his eyes and dove back into your tightness, inch by inch disappearing until you screamed out his name in pleasure. The angle was so sweet that you could already feel the knot twisting in the pit of your stomach, testing your ability to chase it.

“That’s it,” You barely choked out, “Holy shit that feels good.”

Lando found his toe-curling rhythm again, knowing that this was it. He wasn’t going to be able to keep this up, not when you rutted back on his dick, chasing your high and grappling around his throbbing cock like your life depended on it. And you were right there with him, restlessly moaning underneath him, thrashing through your orgasm and barely even feeling the mighty crescendo in the end because of the unintentional overstimulation you’d caused. But fuck it felt extraordinary.

“Oh god – oh, fuck!” Lando shouted loudly, his high also catching him by surprise as he came, fucking out every last drop he had before he even registered what had happened. He stilled inside you, not moving before he looked down and realised what he’d done, immediately jumping back and pulling out; warm, sticky liquid dripping down your thigh, leaving you feeling empty.

“Shit! Oh my god, I’m so fucking sorry…” Lando panicked as you stood up straight and reached behind him for a tissue, watching you with his hands on his head, unable to comprehend how stupid he was.

“Hey, it’s okay…” You whispered and reached out for his hand as you swiftly cleaned yourself up. He needed reassurance and that he had nothing to be sorry for but you couldn’t help but crack a small, harmless joke to settle his nerves. “Happens to the best of us.”

Lando exhaled deeply as you threw the tissue in the bin and tugged him closer into your trembling body, lowering your voice with a smirk and squeezing his shaky hand, “Can I tell you a little secret?”

He nodded and let your soft expression wash over him, finally feeling like he could breathe for the first time since he left your warmth, “I really liked it.”

“Really?” Lando asked, heart racing and dick twitching again at your words as you nodded, dancing your fingers over his cotton-clad chest, “A lot.”

“Fuck,” He mumbled under his breath, “I’m still sorry though. I just lost control and forgot where I was… So awkward.” He chuckled the last part and felt his cheeks burning up from embarrassment, cursing his body for the betrayal.

“Well, I’m going to take that as a compliment.” You smiled proudly and threw your arms around Lando’s shoulders, linking them behind his neck before trawling your fingers through his gorgeously tousled curls.

“I was just so bloody good you couldn’t wait to come. Absolute pro.”

“Exactly…” He laughed and pressed a strong kiss to your lips, “And you said you wanted me deeper so I was just following your orders.”

“Love that… love you,” You sighed and returned the kiss, oblivious to the words you just muttered out loud. Lando heard them clear as day.

“Did you just say you loved me?” He asked incredulously, hiding the smile threatening to show on his red, puffy lips.

You paused, unable to really explain away the words that had just slipped out without you even knowing, “Um… I…”

“Because I’m fallin’ in love with you.”

Lando was stoic in his admission and it took you back a little. The whole “no strings attached” rulebook had been thrown out the window and here you were, standing in your kitchen half-naked, declaring your love for one another in the middle of the night. It was unorthodox but everything so far in your situationship with Lando had been from the moment you met. Why should affirming your affections be any different?

“I’m falling in love with you too.”

Your voice was barely a whisper as Lando strengthened his hold around your waist, chests pinned against each other. He simply nodded and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “Awesome.” He whispered back, smile tugging on the corners of his lips, “So now that we have that sorted, do you wanna go upstairs and show me how much you love me?”

“Don’t push it,” You nudged, face scrunched and shyly buried into Lando’s chest.

For the first time in a long time, you felt safe. And maybe you didn’t need all the wisdom and baggage that came with someone older, someone who had already lived a life. In contrast, Lando was exciting and living life to the fullest, travelling the world, seeing it all and not burdened by responsibility.

But that’s what made him the dangerous choice. He wasn’t always going to be around when you needed him, longed for him. There was nothing chaining him to London and he’d expressed how much he loved his freedom but maybe you could change that. But then you would be changing him and you didn’t want to do that, you weren’t that kind of partner. You couldn’t make that decision for him nor did you want to. All these insecurities and fears swirled around in your head as you fell asleep in Lando's warm embrace, limbs tangled together like a web, tender between your thighs and an ache in your heart.

You were falling in love with him; that much was true but what would the cost be of handing your heart over to someone who had the world at his feet, everything still to experience?

Was the hope of being in love enough?

click here for part three

a/n – i finally got it done, ya'll! there will be a third and final part to this story but don't ask me when because i don't know. instead, give me your thoughts about this part and if you want more of lando in upcoming one-shots etc. lemme know!

[skyeslittlecorner]

Hi!! I love your work too much and it's the first time asking for a request but I need more baby leviathan 😭 I just can't, he's so cute and breaks my heart so much 🥺 I just want to hug him and comfort him. Could I have a little more? 👉👈

(Sorry for the bad English, I'm still learning since it's not my native language 😔)

Hi dear! Don't worry, your English is good! Sorry it took me so long, life got to me. But, it's finally time to write this lovely request. I made it a little longer than I planed, and I hope it will make up for the wait🧡

Words: ~700

Perfect from every point of view | Leviathan

Have you ever had a dream that you didn't want to repeat? A nightmare that has plagued you all your life? A trauma that you didn't want to forget, only to honor the memory of those who passed away? 

If not, imagine the cold. The Arctic cold goes through your entire body, as if you jumped into an ice hole in the middle of winter, drowned in icy water with a thick layer of ice above the head. These were the feelings Leviathan had when he looked at his baby hands.

Turned into a child. What for? Why him? An injustice he couldn't understand. Especially with his childish mind. It's not fair. It shouldn't be like this, he's the king, he can't be like this! No one can see him like that.

Although he was used to spending time in his office, today it seemed unusually empty. Somehow greater and dreadfully quiet. The furniture was a bit bigger, the footsteps were a bit louder. He even kicked Foras out so he wouldn't come any closer. Levi supposedly knew that his subjects wouldn't do anything to him, he could always hang them, but...  was afraid, and didn't want to admit it to himself. So when the door creaked, he raised his hand, ready to hang the unaware poor guy, but nothing happened.

“It’s just me.” 

A voice, unusually gentle, cut through the silence. Only after a while the boy carefully lowered his hand and turned around, still not coming out from behind the coffin. But he saw. It was you. Stood in the open door, smiling casually. 

Something made him want to trust you. That's good? Bad? Rather bad, after all you can't trust anyone.

“Can I come in? I have something that kids on Earth love. Do you want to try it?” You didn't get an answer, but you thought about it too. “No one in hell has ever tried this.”

With this promise, you managed to tickle his uniqueness.

“Nobody?”

“No, and certainly not made by me.”

Finally, a small, horned head popped out from behind the coffin and looked at you. Enemy? Friend? You were deemed the latter and invited in.

Of course, chocolate-covered bananas weren't the height of culinary genius, but you didn't have time to think or do anything else. Fortunately, the child didn't ask. He just tried thickly covered with cocoa pieces of fruit, and occasionally flinched at a sound you couldn't even hear. The innocent look reminded you of a scared deer, and the sharp facial expressions of a starved, tortured dog. 

You wondered if he would eat this little treat as an adult, or would he despise it? Although currently he looked like he was just eating stress. Or like he actually remembered starving when he was in the cage. You brushed shiny strands of hair from the fair forehead. He let you. Seeing so much terror and pain in those crystal yet dull eyes, you wanted to wrap your arms around him and protect him from the world. Yes, the adult was an asshole, but... You'll think about it when he'll be an adult again. You hoped that you would both just forget about this episode like it never happened and continue to lovehate each other. 

“I’ll spend time with you, okay? You will let me?”

Another moment of consideration passed before he nodded. A lazy afternoon together awaited you, just for you to fall asleep in a coffin together.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

When Levi opened his eyes in the middle of the night, everything was back to normal. You were finally in his arms and not the other way around. Smaller, more fragile, more delicate. Almost everything... from the one percent threat you had been before, you were now none at all in his eyes. Human, a creature full of doubts and capable of lies, chose to live honestly, full of care and warmth. Truly devilish. 

He hugged you tighter and kissed you tenderly on your forehead and then on your nose. As he fell back to sleep, his tired brain recalling a vision that he fortunately had no memory of when he woke up the next morning. Jealousy would consume him. But now? Now in his perfect arms lay the most perfect being.

[thissortofsorcery]

Steve won’t admit this on pain of death, but he kinda loves it when Billy comes over.

Billy likes to make his entrances dramatic, so he either leans on the doorbell or pounds on the door like the world’s ending, even if Steve can hear the Camaro driving up from a block away and is already on his way to the door. Tonight Billy shows up after eight o’clock, bundled up in his leather jacket and a scarf and carrying a six pack. His shoulders are loose when he takes his jacket off and stamps his boots on the welcome mat, and he’s smiling easy.

“What were your plans for tonight, princess?” Billy grins over his shoulder, toeing his boots off. Steve watches his earring catch the light.

“Uh,” Steve looks pointedly at his socked feet and pajama pants, “watching TV, mostly.”

Billy shoves the six pack on Steve’s chest. “Lame. Your night just got a whole lot better, pretty boy.”

And he walks away in the direction of the living room without looking back.

When Steve gets there, Billy’s shirt is already thrown on the couch, and he’s tugging his socks off. His jeans are undone. The curtains are already open to reveal the backyard, steam rising from the still surface of the pool.

“Billy, no.”

“C’mon, Harrington, don’t be a pussy,” Billy says, pushing his jeans down his thighs with some difficulty. They’re tight. Steve’s not watching the denim catch on the fine golden hairs adorning his skin, his eyes are not tracing the soft skin of his inner thighs.

“You were wearing a scarf when you came here,” Steve says, picking up a discarded sock and throwing it in Billy’s face.

“So we’ll run to the pool.”

“You can run to the pool, I’m staying right here,” Steve flops down on the couch and picks up the remote, sets his jaw to stubborn and stares at the TV.

Then Billy’s crotch is is front on his face. His undone pants, belt hanging on the loops, red underwear peeking from underneath blue denim. Shameless. Entirely unaware of what it does to Steve.

“Come ooooooon,” Billy says, with that look on his face, that glint in his eyes that Steve’s familiar with. He knows how this is going to end before Billy finishes speaking. “Where’s your fire, King Steve? Live a little.”

Steve gets to his feet. Billy sways back, but his feet don’t move. They’re inches apart. Steve can feel his heart beat in his ears, the tip of his fingers. Billy’s eyes are boring into his own, big and blue.

Somehow they always end up here. Standing close enough to touch, but not touching. Always stepping away first.

Billy’s radiating heat, always is, warm and inviting, and Steve’s skin tingles when he touches two fingers to the center of Billy’s chest and pushes.

“Race you,” he says. And he trips Billy.

Billy doesn’t fall, but he catches himself on the arm of the couch, and that’s enough time for Steve to get his sweatshirt off and run halfway to the door.

“Motherfucker,” He hears Billy swear behind him, and barks out a laugh, then Billy’s yanking him back and pulling the door open, running ahead in his underwear.

Steve doesn’t know which one of them jumps in first, it’s more like they push each other in. It’s all elbows on ribs on the way back up, trying to shove each other under for another second, and they both break the surface laughing, water streaming from burning nostrils.

They horse around in the pool for a while, dunking each other and being dumb, until they realize they left the beer in the living room. Billy pulls himself out of the pool, shuddering when the cold air hits his skin.

“Fuck,” He shouts, and Steve laughs, swimming backwards away from the edge.

“Your idea, man.”

“Fuck!” Billy shouts again, running back outside with the six pack, which he dumps beside the pool before cannonballing in.

Billy pushes his wet bangs out of his face when he comes up, and grins at Steve with his tongue out, “Can’t believe you were going to mope in front of the tv all night, man. It’s Friday night.”

“As opposed to what?” Steve laughs, “Is there a party I wasn’t invited to?”

“Nah, that’s tomorrow. But my calendar was open tonight and I thought I’d save you from boring yourself to death.”

“Hot date blew you off or something?” Steve asks, unconsciously moving closer. He and Billy are floating close together, swaying with the water. It feels natural. Feels right. Being this close to Billy, being warm from his proximity, not just from the warm water of the pool, it makes his stomach flutter, makes his breath hitch.

“Or something,” Billy says, and his voice is low. The air feels charged with something, and it’s not the first time Steve’s felt pulled in by Billy, like there’s something buried in their chests tugging them close. They keep coming together, and then somehow falling apart, again and again, like ocean water lapping at the shore.

Billy’s right, though. Steve was bored, flicking through channels, contemplating making food or jerking off just for something to do, until Billy walked through the door. Now he hasn’t stopped smiling since.

Billy’s smiling right back, that wide, toothy smile that Steve gets when they’re alone. He hasn’t pulled away yet.

“Well, I’m flattered to be your second choice,” Steve says, flicking water on Billy’s face.

“Not what I said,” Billy says, splashing him harder.

Steve splutters, laughs, and wipes a hand down his face. When he opens his eyes, Billy’s floated even closer.

“Then what did you say?” Steve asks, licking chlorine off his lips. He watches Billy’s eyes track the movement, sees the hunger in them. Recognizes the way of the water. It’s about to pull back.

Something in him breaks, and he can’t let it. Can’t bear it if Billy cracks a joke and swims away.

Steve’s hand comes up to rest on Billy’s jaw, and Billy’s eyes go wide. He’s looking at Steve like he lost it, like Steve’s brain finally leaked out of his ears and left only stupid behind, but Steve has never been more sure of anything in his life. He’s not mixing his signals, here.

Steve runs his thumb on Billy’s bottom lip, says his name, Billy, in a murmur, and Billy leans back, uncertain. His eyebrows are pulled together in a frown, something almost aggressive if Billy didn’t look so confused. Any other time, Steve could misinterpret this, but his thumb is on Billy’s lip and he can feel the way his breath is shaking.

Steve kisses him.

Billy’s mouth is slack, open in confusion, so Steve only catches Billy’s upper lip between his own, and it’s just like Steve imagined it, soft and supple, tasting like cigarette smoke. Steve pulls back a bit, and he was just going to kiss him again, really, but Billy suddenly surges up, closing his mouth around Steve’s, pressing them together from chest to thigh.

All thoughts are gone from Steve’s mind, then, and he can only focus on Billy, Billy, Billy, and the way his skin feels where they’re touching, slick from the water, and the pull of Billy’s fingers tangled in his hair, and the weight of Billy’s thighs when they come up to bracket his hips underwater.

When they pull away, breathing heavy, Billy’s looking at him with soft wonder, like he can’t quite believe what just happened. So Steve kisses him again, and again, on the lips, on the cheek, on the corner of his mouth.

“Steve,” Billy says. It’s the first thing he’s said in a while.

“Yeah?” Steve pulls back to look at Billy, waits for him to elaborate. But Billy doesn’t say anything, can’t seem to decide on what he wants to say or ask, just keeps chewing on the inside of his cheek and frowning more deeply by the second.

“Hey,” Steve says, bringing them together again, hands on Billy’s chest. “I really like you.”

Billy looks up at him them, “Yeah?”

Steve nods.

“I kinda love it when you come over,” Steve admits, trailing his cold nose along Billy’s wet cheek. He feels Billy shudder under his hands, feels Billy’s fingers squeeze his waist, and rubs his own hands up Billy’s arms to his neck. Cups his face. Kisses him again. “Love it when you’re here.”

Billy opens his eyes with a laugh, a huffy, weak one that feel real nonetheless, “Shut up. You’re a sap.”

Steve watches Billy’s eyes flick to his mouth, wide and round, like he’s thinking of kissing him again. He doesn’t move to do it, though. That just won’t do. Steve places a kiss on the corner of Billy’s mouth, another on the dead center of his lips, and feels the air move when Billy takes a sharp breath, like they’re sharing air.

Then one of Billy’s hands is coming up to fist his hair, yanking a moan out of his mouth along with it when their lips part. Steve can feel it in the way Billy presses his body close, a burning line of heat even under the water, the way Billy holds him tightly, the desperation in his grip, the longing in his teeth where they bite down on his lip.

Billy wants this as much as Steve does. He just won’t let himself believe he can have it, but it’s fine. Steve can convince him, one kiss at a time.

[pazziville]

Can I Be Him — A Pazzi Fic

Wherein Paige Bueckers, UConn’s prolific point guard, has been in love with Azzi Fudd, her longtime best friend and current teammate for the longest time. The persistence in scouting the girl to the huskies was not for nothing. But of course, Paige kept this fact to herself. Yet, even after all these years, behind the basketball star’s confident and cocky-like attitude, lies insecurities for seemingly not being enough for Azzi.  Azzi constantly reminding Paige of the reality that she may never have feelings for the girl the same way the girl has for her when she repeatedly talks to Paige about her boy problems, deflates the latter’s self-esteem, while Azzi remains unaware. With the next season around the corner and Paige’s newfound courage to move on from Azzi, what would become of their relationship?

CHAPTER 2.

word count: 1,548

Chapter 1

“You have got to stop pacing around, Az. If it’s not making you dizzy, it definitely is making me.” Ice annoyingly tells off Azzi and goes back to munching on her popcorn while watching a TV show from the bed.

Azzi flops herself back first on the bed, covers her face with both hands and screams.

Ice flinches causing some of her popcorn to fall to the bed, “Girl what is wrong with you?!”

The girl gets back up and goes back to pacing, earning a ‘what the fuck’ look from her roommate who is considering calling 911 at the sight she’s currently witnessing.

“I messed up. I messed up. I messed up. I messe–” Azzi chanted while pacing before being held and stopped by Ice who was forced to now stand alongside her if she wanted her much wanted peace and quiet.

“What did you do?” Ice sternly asks her as if she was an interrogator trying to get the truth out from a criminal, which in this case was Azzi.

“I swear I didn’t mean to do it–” Azzi found herself avoiding the topic altogether.

Ice grew impatient, tightening her grip on Azzi’s arms, “Spill or none of us are gonna shit done here.”

It was Azzi’s turn to hold on to Ice’s arms as if it was a call for help, “I called Paige stupid and reckless.”

The two stayed in the same position for quite some time while keeping their eye contact intact.

A laugh from Ice breaks the silence between them and Azzi whines, “Ice, this is not funny!”

“It might not be for you but it for sure is for me.” Ice’s laughter grows louder as she further thinks about the situation.

Ice’s laughter fades slowly as she lets out a question, “Were the insults justified at least? To be fair knowing Paige, she can definitely be stupid and reckless sometimes.”

Azzi stomps her feet in regret as she recalls what she did, “That’s the thing, Ice. I think I definitely went too far with what I said.”

“Alright alright, let’s sit down first and get the whole picture. For sure you had your reasons. Now, tell me. What happened that led up to you saying those words to Paige?” Ice sits down and taps on the bed, signaling Azzi to sit down with her.

Ice knew Azzi had the tendency to be extremely sensitive to the people around her, making her confused as to why the girl could have uttered such insensitive words to someone, let alone to her best friend Paige. 

Heck, at times when opponents would say even the slightest dirt to the girl, Azzi would take it personal, as if she was the one talked trash to, immediately doing her best to distract Paige. Usually it didn’t take much for Azzi to get Paige to smile. Paige needed as little as Azzi looking at her with concern to make her smile from ear to ear.

Something didn’t add up. Seeing how stressed Azzi currently is, Ice knew there was more than meets the eye and she was determined to get whatever this is out of Azzi’s system.

Azzi was hesitant and Ice realized this, caressing the girl’s shoulder as a means of assurance that whatever is said in the room stays in the room, getting her trust and getting her to finally talk, “I don’t know what got to me. I saw Nika and Paige playing King of The Court. Even by then I was already pissed at Paige and I don’t even know why myself. My anger elevated the moment Nika got hurt. Then I saw Paige taking care of Nika. Then the words just slipped out my mouth and I just…” Azzi covered her face with her hands once again but this time in relief that she finally got that out her chest.

“So let me get this straight…” Even though there was nothing straight about what Azzi just told her. Ice thought. “Nika and Paige were just playing King of The Court, you were mad at Paige for no apparent reason. When Nika got hurt and you saw Paige taking care of her you got even more angry and let your emotions talk. Am I right?”

Azzi nodded, now looking at Ice with puppy eyes, desperately looking for advice. 

“Yeah, uhm. Have you maybe thought of the fact that you could be jealous of Paige being with Nika?” Ice suggests, eliciting quite a violent reaction from Azzi.

“What?! That’s insane! Why would I be?!” Ms. Curly Hair becomes defensive.

“Hey hey, calm down. When I say you’re jealous, I don’t mean romantically. Maybe you could be jealous your best friend is caring for someone other than you. You know, the platonic kind of jealousy.” Ice explains herself, earning an “oh” from Azzi.

“Unless…” Ice teased. It obviously worked on Azzi as she playfully hits Ice’s arm.

Azzi stands up with an enlightened face, realizing Ice is probably right. She rushes out the room, eager to fix things between her and Paige, “Thank you, Ice! I owe you one big time! Love you!”

Ice shakes her head and sighs, “At this rate they’re gonna hurt each other immensely before realizing.”

Azzi had no idea where Paige currently was. The girl had gone radio silent. Not a single annoying text and random call popped up from the blonde on Azzi’s phone. But despite this, she thinks she knows her best friend enough to trust her instincts. Paige, when not preoccupied in bothering Azzi, always turned to basketball. She’s also had enough fights with Paige to know she beats herself up with practice right after their fights.

Azzi’s guess was proven right while she was walking down the UCONN gym hallways. The sound she heard coming from a single person’s shoes was enough to confirm it. She knew Paige doesn’t like practicing with other people when she was getting her personal practices in. Of course team practices were a different story. Maybe that’s why the sight of Nika practicing with Paige a while ago bothered Azzi? She brushes this thought away and proceeds to enter the indoor court.

A sweaty and out of breath Paige is what Azzi met the second she entered. But despite Paige looking like she just finished a triathlon, the UConn point guard still showed no signs of stopping. The girl was doing everything. Shooting from everywhere on the court, grabbing her own rebounds, then running up and down the court whenever she failed to make a shot.

Paige was so locked in she didn’t even notice Azzi’s presence on the court and Azzi couldn’t help but feel even more guilty as she recalled a memory of her and high school Paige.

“Why are you so worked up in these personal practices of yours for the past few weeks?” High school Azzi innocently asks the hard-working senior from Hopkins.

Paige looked at her with a vulnerable expression, something only reserved for Azzi, “If I can’t get you to commit to UConn, that must mean I’m not good enough as a player for you to trust me.”

Azzi connects the dots, “So you’re working extra hard so you’ll earn my trust and hopefully play for UConn?”

“I care about what you think.” Paige sincerely says in a soft tone, making Azzi’s heart beat slightly faster, “So if me being good enough is what it takes to earn your trust, I’ll do it in a heartbeat.”

So if me being good enough is what it takes to earn your trust, I’ll do it in a heartbeat. Paige’s words repeat in Azzi’s mind like a tape loop, affecting her after seeing Paige go back to doubting her capabilities because of her.

Azzi slowly makes her way near Paige who was currently attempting a three from the top of the key. Paige’s shot attempt clanked at the rim and went straight to Azzi’s direction, forcing her to catch the ball.

As Paige turned around to try and retrieve the ball, she was met with the shorter, curly haired girl, and brown eyed girl she was so desperately trying to run away from, mentally and physically.

“You’re doing it again.” Azzi worriedly says, receiving a weak chuckle from Paige.

“In a heartbeat.” Paige gets closer and Azzi swears she stopped breathing the moment the first step was made.

“I’m sorry.” Azzi apologizes, waiting for Paige’s reaction or response, but once she said those two words, Paige stopped getting closer.

“If that’s all, you can go now. I’ve already forgiven you since you said those words.” Paige says, slowly grabbing the ball from Azzi’s hands.

Azzi feels a pang in her chest when Paige seemingly wants to scoot her away, “You know you can just say you want me to stay away from you, Paige.”

“But I don’t, Azzi.” Paige says, “I don’t want you to leave me here but I’m assuming you’re the one who doesn’t want to see me and is just forcing yourself to apologize to me and I just don’t know what to do–” She addedly rambled but then gets cut off by Azzi suddenly hugging her.

“I fucked up, P.” Azzi tightens her embrace around the older girl, “Let me make it up to you.”

a/n: here's chapter two for everyone! hopefully the pacing and understandability's still alright by this point. suggestions and feedbacks are highly appreciated. please do know that english is not my first language and the chapters are mostly not proofread, so any part of the story that may need revisions, kindly tell me. thank you! hoping everyone's having a great day so far! much love. <3

[sorcerous-caress]

this was originally for gale but this already fits wyll sooo

wyll being a prince and only having his maid (the reader) as a friend and slowly falls in love with them and thinking they wouldn’t like him

BUT THEY DO and they have to be the first one to confess bc wyll tried and it completely fumbled

i’m so sorry if this doesn’t make but also i love your writing! thank you!

Heaven was made for two | Wyll

[Fluff, romance, childhood friends, diots in love, confessing, getting together, kissing, prince Wyll au, maid!reader, nb!reader]

[Part of the Wyll's Week event]

The two of you met as children

During a festival, you let go of your father's hand and wandered amidst the crowd.

Going from one shiny thing to the other, you didn't realise how lost you got until it suddenly downed on you when you reached the riverside.

It was devoid of people around, just you and the muffled sound of the festival behind you.

You wanted your father, you felt scared.

And so you sat down, hugging your knees to your chest and closing your eyes before the tears could pour out.

You just wanted to go home.

That's when he first came into your life, a boy your age who sat down in front of you.

He asked what's wrong, how can he help.

You kept your eyes closed as you told him what happened through hiccups.

He told you his name, promising to stay by your side until your father comes.

His name sounded familiar to you.

You opened your eyes, and saw the same boy who was just holding the king's hand during the festival.

Wyll, the royal prince himself, the first heir to the throne.

To your younger self, you didn't know what to do, or how to react even to royalty.

But he didn't seem arrogant, if anything he talked to you like your other friends would, he seemed like a normal kid.

The two of you spent the evening playing on the riverside, chasing each other and rolling on the soft grass below.

By the end of it when the royal guards eventually made their way to you with panicked expressions, they found two children covered in grass and dirt from head to do, giggling as they attempted to imitate the frog on the other side of the river, hopping around.

When the two of you were brought back, you were met with the relieved faces of both your father and the king himself.

And suddenly it downed on you how serious Wyll's position is when the king informed the guard to call off the search, when the festival apparently came to immediate halt the moment Wyll went missing.

You were nervous again, wondering if you're going to get in trouble.

Worse, you saw your father feeling nervous and you felt like crying again as he kneeled down to hug you close.

To your surprise, Wyll was the first to speak up when asked about what happened.

He told them that you were the one to find him on the riverside, that you were the one to wipe away his tears and keep him company.

The king seemed very pleased and your father looked proud, you didn't understand why at the time.

His majesty extended an invitation to the both of you, to spend the rest of the festival together.

And you and Wyll were beyond ecstatic, smiling as you held each other's hands and kept walking around the festival with your parents nearby.

Wyll showed you so many cool things, and in return you introduced him to many of the local shopkeepers and your other friends.

Going back home that day, your father carried you in his arms as you slowly dozed off to sleep.

You made a new friend, you were very happy thay day, even without fully comprehending what it meant that your new friend was a prince.

Your father tried explaining it when you asked, but to your sleepy young mind, only a few words made it through your ears before you fully went to dreamland.

Unaware that this was the last time you or the kingdom as a whole would see Wyll for a long time.

Something was stirring in the castle, everyone was aware of it.

The older you got the more the rumours spread around that the young prince was sent to another kingdom for training.

And when you finally became an adult, the news of the prince's disgrace spread like widefire.

Wyll, the sweet boy you've met on the riverside who held a ladybug ever so gently to not hurt it by accident, made a deal with a devil.

The kingdom's beloved and only prince, exiled from his land.

You couldn't believe it, you desperately wanted the news to be false.

But when the king himself announced the denouncing of his son, you felt your own heart sink.

A kingdom without an heir.

You began helping your father around his job at that age, studying hospitality and caretaking.

The years went by as you made your way through varius jobs, eventually you passed the royal staff recruitments test and secured yourself a good position as a maid in the castle.

Yet something felt weird, the royal staff rarely scouted for more than 10 people per year, even then it was just as replacements for older staff.

And yet they request people in the hundreds, from teachers, trainers, chefs and maids.

Almost as if they were expecting a new addition to the family.

Yet that was impossible, the queen passed away during childbirth, and the king declined any and all attempts at getting him to remarry another, even after Wyll's exile.

You're assigned as a personal made, to attend to someone's needs and make sure they are safe and clean.

Yet no one ever told you who you were exactly assigned to, it was as if everyone in the original staff was in on a big secret that no one else knew.

You're walking alongside the river again, reminiscing on that teary eyed child you used to be, on how far you've come.

How much you've grown since, how your father looks at you with pride.

Some of your friends went away, some stayed close yet drifted apart, and some remained strong as ever by your side and the new friends you've made.

But you can't help and wonder what happened to that little boy you've played tag with, what happened to make him risk his soul just for a devil.

You spot someone on the riverside, a set of horns catches your attention.

They're sitting down on the grass, hugging their knees with their face buried down, only their horns remain visible.

You're reminded of yourself, you decide to become the person you needed most at that time.

You step closer to the man ahead, noticing the lack of tail, not unheard it but certainly unusual for a tiefling.

You're kneeling down in front of him, you ask if he's okay, if there's a way you can help.

A human face lifts to meet you, scaredd and jagged with demonlike features but still clearly human nonetheless.

The person starts a sentence, opens his mouth but suddenly goes speechless as he meets your eyes.

You see recognition in his mismatched eyes, but you don't remember these eyes no matter how mucj you tried.

You focus on the rest of his face, his nose, his lips and the his cheeks.

Like a puzzle the pieces fall into place slowly, despite the demonic appearance wrapping his human features.

But his hand, oh when you look at his hands you're immediately taken back to that one evening as a kid.

You haven't felt fear in so long, but at that momen you're terrifed to your core at this revelation.

"Wyll?"

...

He doesn't reply, he tries but no sound comes out, his lips tremble, there is shame in his glossy eyes.

He wants to hide, to run away.

He wants to go home.

You recognise each and every one of those feelings, read him like an open book.

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he starts to get up, avoiding your eyes.

In a panic you try to stop him, fearing that you'll never see him again, that he will slip through your fingers before you could say hello.

You put all of your weight foraward and tackle him into the grass, a resemblance of a hug as the two of you stumble backwards and fall.

You hold him tight below you, you refuse to let go.

"Wyll please talk to me." You beg, "please tell me you're okay."

He's hesitant but you're patient.

He tells you everything, about Mizora, the deal he made, the contract he almost broke, the friends he has made.

And the bittersweet reunion with his father.

By the end of the story, the two of you are sitting side by side on the edge of the river.

Holding hands.

You stay with him for as long as time allows, even when the sun goes down at the stars glitter through the sky.

He keeps holding your hand, he keeps you close.

The walk to the castle the next morning is a bit awkward after sleeping under the stars all night.

But you lend your shoulder for Wyll to lean on, remind him to hold his head high no matter what looks others might give him.

Only when the two of are in front of the doors to the king's private council, does he let go of your hand.

But he doesn't go in, instead he faces you.

"I haven't forgotten about you, since that day" Wyll confesses, "what I thought of as a mere childhood crush, flourished into something i could've never anticipated. When i met your eyes again, it reignited my soul."

He takes a step closer, "what I'm saying is, you're very dear to me."

You smile, touched at his words, "you're dear to me too Wyll, as your friend I'll always be there for you."

"Ah." Wyll clears his throat, "yes a friend."

He seems embarrassed for some reason that flies over you head, he turns around and goes to knock on the door.

"I'll make sure to drop by afterwards, is your resident still the same?" Changing the subjects, he attempts to make small talk as he waits for the door to open.

"Yeah actually, i live in the castle now, i work here."

Wyll seems pleasantly delighted by this information, but whatever he was going to say gets interrupted as the king himself opens the door.

His majesty doesn't seem surprised in the slightest by Wyll's changed appearance, if anything he smiles warmly as he invites his son inside.

The two of them bid you goodbye for the day, you give a courtsy bow before leaving too.

It turns out the king and the older staff were fully aware of the prince's return, some were kept in the dark about his changed appearance.

It's Wyll who you were assigned as a personal maid to.

Days pass, then weeks and months.

The colours seem brighter, the skies hold twice as many stars and the wind seems like an always pleasent breeze to you.

Serving Wyll felt less like duty and more like spending time with a close friend, the prince was very independent when it came to his own responsibilities and therefore you barely had any remaining tasks to preform.

So most of your time was spent walking besides him and offering help when you can.

Yet you can tell there is something he was keeping from you.

You weren't sure when he got so shy about holding hands or hugging you all of the sudden.

He would do it normally with others, yet with you his nervousness reared its head more often than not.

Truth be told, he probably wasn't the only one hiding a secret.

You couldn't deny the flutter of your hear when you saw him, the bounce on your step whenever you made your way to him chambers at the start of the day.

Your feelings of affection were too strong to deny, you weren't how to approach the subject or even start.

It's not like you can just walk up to him one day and tell him everything?

Or can you?

And that's exactly what you did, out of the blue one day while the two of you were eating breakfast together.

Or well, Wyll insisted on you eating his breakfast with him otherwise he wouldn't eat.

"Oh, by the way your highness, there is something I wanted to tell you about"

"I'm all ears."

"I love you."

It took 5 seconds of silence before he choked on his morning tea, staring at you with wide eyes.

"...surely you don't mean that-"

"I've always loved you, since that day you held my hand." You said with calmness, sipping on your own cup, "I'm not expecting you to return my feelings, I just wanted you to acknowledge them."

In less than a second he has abandoned his seat and is by your side, hugging you close and burying his head in your neck.

"I didn't think...I didn't expect." His voice is shaking, he holds you as if he's afraid to wake up from this dream, as if reality might just crumble around him at any second.

You're patient with him, setting your plate aside as you fully turn around to embrace him.

"I love you" you repeat.

Wyll lifts his head to face you, the happiest you have ever seen him, "I do too, more than life should allow possible, my feelings they are...indescribable."

His lips meet yours, it's short, sweet and tender.

I love you too."