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23victoria · 4 months ago

Text

off the table

pairings: lewis hamilton x fem!reader

word count: 13k

warnings: SMUT (wrap it before you tap it), toxic relationship, cheating, miscommunication, cussing, best friends to lovers, idiots in love, mentions of educational burnout, semi-double pov

authors note: listen to off the table by ariana grande ft. the weeknd 13k words is insane to me, this is the most i’ve ever wrote, i had so much fun writing this honestly, i pray it’s not shit…cause that would be embarrassing, ignore any typos please, also a little self indulgent (not all the way, trust)okay i’m done, hope you enjoy!!

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f1 masterlist 1k celebration

You met Lewis when you were just seven years old. It was a typical summer day, the sun high in the sky, casting a golden glow over the park. You were new to the neighborhood, shy and unsure of yourself, clutching the handles of your bike as if it were your lifeline. The other kids seemed so confident, racing around on their bikes, laughing and shouting as they sped down the dirt paths. You stood on the sidelines, watching, wishing you could join in but not quite brave enough to take the first step.

That's when you noticed him—a boy with wild curls and a bright smile, his bike skidding to a stop in front of you. "Hey, do you want to race?" he asked, his voice filled with enthusiasm. You hesitated, glancing down at your bike, then back at him. He must have sensed your uncertainty because he grinned and added, "I'll go easy on you, I promise."

Something about his easy confidence made you smile, and before you knew it, you were racing side by side with him, the wind whipping through your hair as you pedaled as fast as you could. You didn't win—Lewis was too fast for that—but it didn't matter. For the first time since moving, you felt like you belonged.

From that day on, you and Lewis were inseparable. Every afternoon after school, you'd meet at the park, racing your bikes until the sun dipped below the horizon. He told you about his love for karting, his eyes lighting up as he described the thrill of speeding around the track, the roar of the engine in his ears. You didn't understand it entirely—karts seemed like a bigger, scarier version of your bike—but you loved listening to him talk about it, the way his passion seemed to pour out of him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As the years went by, your friendship with Lewis deepened. You became each other's confidants, sharing your dreams and fears late into the night. You told him about your dream of becoming a doctor, and he listened with the same intensity he showed on the track. In return, he confided in you about his aspirations in racing, how he wanted to be the best, to make his family proud.

There were moments, though, where something unspoken lingered between you—moments where his gaze seemed to linger a little too long, where his touch seemed a little too tender. But you never noticed, too caught up in your own world to see the way his feelings for you were evolving.

One day, when you were both fourteen, you were sitting in your room, studying for a biology test. Lewis had come over to help you with your homework, but you ended up talking about everything except schoolwork. "Do you ever think about the future?" you asked, lying on your bed with a textbook open in front of you.

"All the time," he admitted, glancing over at you. "I think about racing, where I'll be, who I'll be with."

You smiled, oblivious to the hint of something more in his words. "I bet you'll be famous," you teased, nudging him playfully. "I'll be able to say I knew you before you were cool."

He laughed, but there was a wistfulness in his eyes. "What about you? Where do you see yourself?"

You shrugged, turning your attention back to your textbook. "Hopefully in med school, maybe even Harvard if I can get in. Saving lives and all that."

There was a pause, and when you looked back at him, you saw something flicker in his expression, something you couldn't quite place. But before you could ask, he smiled and said, "You'll get in. I know you will."

You didn't know it then, but that was one of the many moments where he almost told you how he felt. But your casual mention of Harvard, of a future that seemed so far from his own, made him hesitate. How could he confess his feelings when it seemed like your dreams were leading you in opposite directions?

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

When you were sixteen, Lewis's karting career began to take off even more. He was spending more time at the track, traveling for races, and you were busy with school. But despite the distance, you stayed close, texting each other daily, finding time to hang out whenever he was home.

One evening, after one of his races, he invited you to a celebratory dinner with his family. You were honored, knowing how important these moments were to him. As you sat across from him at the table, laughing and talking with his family, you felt a warmth in your chest, a sense of belonging that you couldn't quite explain.

After dinner, as you walked back to your car, Lewis caught your arm, stopping you. "Hey, can we talk for a minute?" he asked, his voice unusually serious.

"Of course," you replied, a little surprised by his tone. You turned to face him, and for a moment, you just stood there, looking at each other in the dim light of the streetlamp.

He seemed to struggle with his words, his hands fidgeting in his pockets. "I've been meaning to tell you something," he began, his voice low. "It's just... we've known each other for so long, and you've always been there for me. I don't know what I'd do without you."

Your heart swelled at his words, and you smiled, completely missing the deeper meaning behind them. "You're my best friend, Lewis. I'll always be there for you, no matter what."

He looked down, a slight frown tugging at his lips. "Yeah, best friends," he repeated, his voice softer now. "But what if—"

Just then, your phone buzzed in your pocket, interrupting the moment. You pulled it out, glancing at the screen, and saw a text from a boy in your class that you'd been talking to. "Sorry, it's just Josh," you said, quickly typing a response.

When you looked back up, Lewis's expression had shifted, the vulnerability from moments before gone. "No worries," he said, forcing a smile. "I just wanted to say that I'm really proud of you. For everything."

You felt a pang of guilt, sensing that you had missed something important, but you pushed it aside, giving him a quick hug. "Thanks, Lewis. That means a lot."

As you drove home that night, you couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed, but you couldn't quite put your finger on it. Meanwhile, Lewis watched you leave, the words he had almost said hanging heavy in the air. He had been so close to telling you how he felt, but your mention of Josh had stopped him. How could he compete with someone who was already making you smile in ways he only dreamed of?

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As you started high school, you started dating Josh. He was sweet, attentive, and everything you thought you wanted in a boyfriend. Lewis, ever the supportive friend, smiled and encouraged you, even as his heart ached every time he saw you with someone else.

He watched from the sidelines as your relationship with Josh blossomed, always there to lend a listening ear when things got tough. And when Josh broke your heart, leaving you devastated just before prom, Lewis was the first person you called.

"I can't believe he did this," you sobbed into the phone, your voice thick with tears.

"I'll be right there," Lewis replied without hesitation. Within minutes, he was at your door, pulling you into a comforting embrace. He held you as you cried, his hand gently stroking your hair, murmuring soothing words into your ear.

"You deserve so much better," he whispered, his heart breaking alongside yours. "Anyone who can't see how amazing you are doesn't deserve you."

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes. "Why can't all guys be like you, Lewis?"

He smiled sadly, wishing he could tell you that he would never hurt you the way Josh did, that he would cherish you and make you feel loved every day. But instead, he just said, "Because they're not smart enough to realize what they have."

In that moment, you realized how much you had taken Lewis for granted, how he had always been there for you, even when you didn't deserve it. But you still didn't see the depth of his feelings for you, too caught up in your own heartbreak to notice the way he looked at you, as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

When it came time to apply for college, you were determined to go to the one with the best medical program, whether it was Harvard, Yale, Duke, or John Hopkins. You had worked so hard throughout high school, dedicating countless hours to your studies, extracurriculars, and volunteer work. It was your dream, and you weren't going to let anything stand in your way.

Lewis, on the other hand, was focused on his racing career. He had already been scouted by several teams, and it was clear that his future was on the track. You were both proud of each other's accomplishments, but there was an unspoken tension between you as the reality of your diverging paths began to sink in.

The day you received your acceptance letter from Harvard was bittersweet. You were overjoyed to have achieved your dream, but the thought of leaving Lewis behind filled you with a sense of loss. You had always imagined that you would be there for each other through everything, but now it seemed like your lives were pulling you in different directions.

"I got in," you told Lewis when you saw him later that day, your voice filled with a mix of excitement and sadness.

He smiled, pulling you into a tight hug. "I knew you would," he said, his voice proud but tinged with something else. "You're going to do amazing things, Y/N/N."

"But I'll miss you," you admitted, your heart aching at the thought of being so far away from him.

"I'll miss you too," he replied, his voice quiet. "But we'll stay in touch, right? It's not like we're never going to see each other again."

You nodded, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Of course. We'll text and call all the time. And I'll visit whenever I can."

He smiled, but there was a sadness in his eyes that you couldn't ignore. "Yeah, we'll make it work."

As the summer passed, you and Lewis spent as much time together as possible, trying to make the most of your remaining days before you both went off to pursue your dreams. There were moments of laughter and joy, but also moments of quiet reflection, as you both grappled with the reality of what was to come.

On your last night before leaving for college, you and Lewis sat on the roof of his house, staring up at the stars. It was a tradition you had started when you were kids, a way to escape the world and just be together in the silence of the night.

"I'm really going to miss this," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," he replied, his gaze fixed on the sky.

You turned to look at him, your heart heavy with a mix of emotions. "Promise me we'll stay close, no matter what."

He finally looked at you, his eyes filled with a depth of emotion that took your breath away. "I promise," he said, his voice steady and sincere.

You smiled, reaching out to take his hand. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Lewis."

He squeezed your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. "You'll never have to find out," he said, his voice filled with a quiet determination.

As you sat there together, the weight of unspoken words hung between you, but neither of you said anything more. There was a part of Lewis that wanted to tell you everything—to confess his feelings, to ask you to stay—but he knew it wouldn't be fair. You had your own dreams to chase, and he couldn't ask you to give them up for him.

So instead, he kept his promise, supporting you from afar as you embarked on the next chapter of your life. You texted and called as often as you could, sharing stories of your experiences at Harvard, while he told you about his progress in racing. The distance was hard, but you both did your best to stay connected.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

College was everything you had hoped it would be. You excelled in your classes, made new friends, and even started dating again. But no matter how busy you were, there was always a part of you that missed Lewis. You missed the way he made you laugh, the way he could always make you feel better no matter what was going on in your life.

You visited home during the holidays, and every time you saw Lewis, it was like no time had passed at all. You fell back into your old routines, spending hours talking and laughing, as if the distance between you had never existed.

But there were moments when you noticed a change in him—moments when he seemed quieter, more reserved. You didn't think much of it at first, chalking it up to the stress of his racing career. But as time went on, you began to wonder if there was something more.

One night, during your winter break, you and Lewis went for a drive, just like you used to do when you were younger. The streets were quiet, the city lights reflecting off the snow-covered ground. You talked about everything and nothing, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence.

As you drove past your old high school, memories flooded back, and you found yourself laughing at the thought of how much had changed since then. "Can you believe it's been four years since we graduated?" you asked, glancing over at Lewis.

He smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yeah, it's crazy how time flies."

You sighed, your smile fading as you thought about how much your lives had diverged since high school. "Do you ever miss the way things used to be?" you asked, your voice filled with a touch of nostalgia.

"All the time," he admitted, his voice quiet.

There was a moment of silence as you both reflected on the past, and for a brief second, you thought you saw something in his expression that made your heart skip a beat. But before you could say anything, he turned away, his gaze fixed on the road ahead.

"I've been thinking," he began, his voice hesitant, "about how different our lives are now. You're at college, I'm racing in F2... it's like we're living in two separate worlds."

You frowned, unsure of where he was going with this. "But we're still friends, Lewis. That hasn't changed."

"I know," he said quickly, "but sometimes I wonder if..." He trailed off, as if struggling to find the right words.

"If what?" you prompted, your heart pounding in your chest.

He shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Nothing. Forget I said anything."

You wanted to push him, to ask him what he was really thinking, but something in his tone made you stop. Instead, you just nodded, deciding to let it go.

As the night wore on, you found yourself growing more and more frustrated with your inability to understand what was going on with Lewis. You had always been able to read him like a book, but now it felt like there was a wall between you, something unspoken that neither of you could break through.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

The next few years passed in a blur of classes, exams, and racing events. You and Lewis remained close, but the distance between you became more pronounced as time went on. You both pursued your dreams with a single-minded determination, but in the process, you began to drift further apart.

There were moments when you wondered if you had made the right choice, if maybe you should have stayed closer to home, closer to Lewis. But every time you thought about it, you pushed the thoughts aside, telling yourself that you were doing what you were meant to do.

Lewis, on the other hand, struggled with his feelings for you more than ever. He watched from afar as you continued to excel in your studies, as you dated other people, as you lived a life that seemed so different from his own. But he never stopped caring about you, never stopped being there for you whenever you needed him.

And though he never told you, he knew deep down that he would always love you, even if you never felt the same way about him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Your life took a different turn when you least expected it. You had always been focused, driven, and passionate about becoming a doctor. The years of studying, the late nights in the library, the relentless pursuit of knowledge—it all felt like it was leading you toward a future you had envisioned since childhood. But as time went on, something inside you began to shift.

It started subtly at first, a creeping sense of exhaustion that no amount of sleep seemed to cure. The long hours in the lab, the constant pressure to excel, the never-ending cycle of exams and practicals—it all began to weigh on you. You could feel the burnout setting in, the stress gnawing away at your enthusiasm. You told yourself that it was normal, that every med student went through this phase, that it was just another hurdle to overcome. But deep down, you knew something was wrong.

Your friends noticed it too. They saw the dark circles under your eyes, the way you seemed to retreat into yourself, the way your laughter had become rare, replaced by a quiet, pervasive anxiety. One of your closest friends at the time, a fellow student who had always been attuned to your moods, suggested something radical: "Why don't you try something different for a while? Just to take the pressure off."

You were taken aback by the suggestion. "Like what?" you asked, genuinely curious. You couldn't imagine stepping away from your studies, even for a moment. But the exhaustion was so overwhelming that you were willing to entertain any idea that might offer some relief.

"Have you ever thought about acting?" your friend asked, a mischievous smile playing on their lips. "You've always had a flair for drama, and you're great at expressing yourself. It could be fun, and who knows? It might help you recharge."

The idea was so out of left field that you laughed. Acting? You had never seriously considered it. Sure, you had participated in a few school plays when you were younger, but it was always just for fun, never something you thought of as a career. But the more you thought about it, the more the idea intrigued you. Maybe stepping away from the rigid structure of medical school could be exactly what you needed. Maybe exploring a different side of yourself could reignite the passion that had been dwindling for medicine.

On a whim, you decided to give it a try. You signed up for an acting workshop, just to see if you had any talent or interest in it. To your surprise, you loved it. The freedom of expression, the creativity, the way you could lose yourself in a character and forget about the stress of your real life—it was exhilarating. For the first time in months, you felt genuinely happy, like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Encouraged by the positive experience, you started attending more workshops, getting involved in local theater productions, and even taking a few acting classes on the side. It was all just for fun at first, a way to balance out the intensity of your studies. But the more you immersed yourself in the world of acting, the more you realized how much you enjoyed it.

Then came the fateful day when everything changed. One of your acting instructors, who had been impressed by your natural talent, mentioned that a casting call was being held for a new movie. It was a big-budget production, with a well-known director at the helm, and they were looking for fresh faces to fill the lead roles. Your instructor encouraged you to audition, insisting that you had the potential to land the part.

At first, you hesitated. The idea of auditioning for a major film seemed absurd. You were a med student, not a professional actress. But something inside you, that same part that had pushed you to explore acting in the first place, urged you to go for it. What did you have to lose?

So, with a mix of nerves and excitement, you prepared for the audition. You worked on your lines, practiced your delivery, and did your best to channel the emotions of the character you were auditioning for. The day of the audition arrived, and you walked into the casting room with your heart pounding in your chest.

To your amazement, the audition went better than you could have imagined. You felt a connection with the character, a sense of ease in front of the camera that surprised even you. The casting directors seemed impressed, and you left the audition feeling a strange mix of exhilaration and disbelief.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

A few weeks later, you received the call that would change your life. You had landed the lead role in the movie. You couldn't believe it. This was supposed to be a temporary distraction, a way to relieve stress—not the start of a new career. But here you were, about to step into the world of professional acting.

The decision to accept the role was not an easy one. It meant putting your medical studies on hold, something that terrified you. You had worked so hard to get where you were, and the thought of stepping away felt like abandoning a part of yourself. But there was also a part of you that was excited, that saw this as an incredible opportunity, a chance to do something completely different.

You’re pacing your dorm apartment, the walls suddenly feeling too close, the air too thick. You can’t breathe. The call is stuck in your mind, you’ve been offered the lead role in a major movie—a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But the timing couldn’t be worse. You’re just a year away from completing your medical degree. A year. After all the sleepless nights, endless studying, and grueling rotations, it’s all so close to paying off. And yet…

You drop onto your bed, head in your hands, and your thoughts spiral out of control. What if you’re making a mistake? What if you take the role and regret it? What if you stay in medicine and never know what could have been? You feel your chest tightening, panic creeping in. You need to talk to someone. You need to talk to him.

Without thinking, you reach for your phone and press Lewis’s contact. As the phone rings, you silently beg for him to pick up. “Please, Lewis, pick up. Please, please, please…”

The call connects, and you hear a groggy voice on the other end. “Y/N/N? What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His voice is laced with concern, but there’s a hint of sleep still clinging to his words.

Your heart drops. You forgot. You completely forgot that he’s in Belgium for the race at Spa. You glance at the clock, realizing just how late it is over there. “Oh my God, Lewis, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you. I completely forgot about the time difference and your race tomorrow…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” he says, his voice softening. “I’m awake now. Are you alright? What’s going on?”

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself, but the words tumble out in a rush. “I got offered the lead in a major movie, and I don’t know if I should take it. I’m just a year away from finishing med school, and it feels insane to stop now. But at the same time, this is such a huge opportunity, and I’m spiraling, and you were the first person I thought of to call.”

There’s a pause on the other end, and you can almost hear him processing what you’ve just said. “Lead role in a movie? Acting? You’re an actress? When did this happen?”

You blink, realizing you’ve never told him. Your heart sinks a little further. “Oh… yeah, I guess we haven’t talked in a while, have we?”

Silence hangs between you for a moment, heavy with unspoken words. “Yeah,” he finally says, the word carrying more weight than it should. “We haven’t.”

You clear your throat, trying to push past the awkwardness. “I was feeling burned out with all the studying, and a friend suggested I try something new to take my mind off it. I took an acting class, just for fun, but then one class turned into two, and before I knew it, I was hooked. And now… now I’m being offered a lead role in a movie. Crazy, right? How things change so fast…”

He exhales slowly, as if trying to absorb everything you’ve just told him. “Yeah… yeah, it is crazy.” There’s another pause, but this time it feels different—more contemplative. “Look, Y/N/N, I know this is a huge decision, and it’s not one you can take lightly. But I also know you. You’re not someone who backs down from a challenge. You’ve got this incredible intuition, this ability to know what’s right for you, even if it’s terrifying. If acting is something that excites you, something that makes you feel alive, then maybe it’s worth exploring. You’re not giving up on medicine; you’re just… taking a detour. Following your heart. And whatever you decide, I’ll be here to support you. I believe in you.”

His words wash over you, calming the storm inside your mind. You feel a warmth spread through your chest, easing the tightness that had gripped you just moments before. “Thank you, Lewis. I really needed to hear that.”

“Of course,” he replies softly. “I’m glad I could help.”

You smile, feeling a sense of peace settle over you. “Good luck with your race tomorrow. I’m sorry again for disturbing you.”

“Don’t be,” he says, his voice tinged with affection. “I’m always here for you, no matter what. And thanks—I’ll need that luck.”

A comfortable silence falls between you, the kind that only exists between people who’ve known each other for years. You can almost picture him on the other end of the line, smiling that soft, reassuring smile of his.

“It’s really good to hear your voice,” you say, your tone almost wistful.

“Yeah,” he echoes, a hint of something unspoken in his voice. “It is.”

You close your eyes, letting the moment linger, not wanting it to end. But eventually, you know it must. “Goodnight, Lewis.”

“Goodnight, Y/N/N.”

The call ends, and you’re left in the quiet of your dorm room, the weight of the decision still pressing on you, but somehow, it feels a little lighter now. You sit on your bed, staring at the wall, thinking about the offer, about your career, but mostly about him—about how much you miss him, miss his voice, his presence in your life.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

In the end, you decided to take the leap. You paused your medical studies, packed your bags, and flew out to the film's shooting location. It was a whirlwind experience—long hours on set, learning the ins and outs of the industry, working alongside seasoned actors who had been doing this for years. It was challenging, but also incredibly rewarding. You discovered a new side of yourself, a side that loved the thrill of performing, the camaraderie of the cast and crew, the magic of bringing a story to life on screen.

When the movie was released, it became an unexpected hit. Critics praised your performance, calling you a "rising star" and predicting a bright future for you in the industry. Offers for other roles began to pour in, and before you knew it, you were being whisked off to auditions, meetings with agents, and photo shoots for magazines. Your life had completely changed, and you were caught up in the whirlwind of it all.

As your acting career took off, your medical aspirations took a backseat. You told yourself it was just temporary, that you would return to your studies once things settled down. But the more time you spent in the acting world, the more you realized how much you loved it. Acting allowed you to explore different aspects of your personality, to tell stories that resonated with people, to connect with audiences in a way that was deeply fulfilling.

But with success came new challenges. The pressure to maintain your newfound fame, the scrutiny from the media, the constant demands on your time—it was all overwhelming. There were moments when you questioned whether you had made the right choice, moments when you longed for the stability and sense of purpose that medicine had provided. But then you would step onto a set, feel the rush of excitement as the cameras rolled, and you would remember why you had chosen this path.

You also had to navigate the complexities of your relationships. Some of your friends and family were supportive, thrilled to see you succeeding in a new field. But others were skeptical, worried that you were throwing away years of hard work for a career that was far less stable and predictable. You had long conversations with your parents, trying to reassure them that you hadn't abandoned your dreams of becoming a doctor, that you were just exploring a different side of yourself for now.

And then there was Lewis. His racing career turned out to be everything you imagined it would be. He’s a four-time Formula 1 World Champion, and despite all the fame and glory, he always made time for you. He had always been your biggest supporter, no matter what you decided to do. But even he had his doubts. "Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked one day, as you sat together in your apartment, reviewing the script for your next film.

"I think so," you replied, uncertainty creeping into your voice. "I never expected this to happen, but now that it has, I can't imagine walking away."

He studied you for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "I just want you to be happy, Y/N. Whatever that looks like."

His words stuck with you, a reminder of the person you had always been, the person you were still trying to figure out. You loved acting, but there was a part of you that missed the structure, the challenge, and the sense of purpose that medicine had provided.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As your acting career continued to flourish, you made a promise to yourself: you wouldn't close the door on medicine entirely. The years of hard work and late nights studying had shaped you, and you were determined to find a way to honor that journey, even as new opportunities emerged in the entertainment world. It was during one of those opportunities that you first met Jensen. The encounter happened at a charity gala, an event you never imagined attending before your acting career took off.

You stood quietly in a corner, nursing a glass of champagne, your eyes scanning the room filled with celebrities and high-profile individuals. You had been invited because of your rising status in the industry, a status that still felt surreal at times. The room buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses, but it was Jensen’s presence that captivated you. He had an effortless charisma, a magnetism that drew you in from across the room.

Jensen, with his boyish charm and magnetic charisma, made his way through the crowd effortlessly. When his eyes locked onto yours, it was as if the world had stopped. He approached you with a confidence that was both alluring and intimidating.

"Hello beautiful, I'm Jensen," he said, his smile dazzling.

"Hi, I'm Y/N," you replied, trying to match his confidence but feeling your heart race.

From that moment on, your life transformed into a whirlwind romance. Jensen's world was intoxicating—red carpet events, glamorous parties, and moments that seemed too perfect to be real. He was attentive, always making you feel like the center of his universe. The late-night phone calls, surprise visits, and stolen moments of affection made you believe that you had found your fairy tale.

Your relationship with Jensen was the epitome of Hollywood glamour. Photographers captured your every move, and tabloids buzzed with stories of your romance. At first, the attention was thrilling. You felt special, adored, and on top of the world.

But as the months passed, the cracks began to show. Jensen's demanding schedule meant that he was often away on set, leaving you feeling lonely and neglected. The glamour started to fade, replaced by the harsh realities of a high-profile relationship.

Jensen's charm, which once made you feel special, started to feel suffocating. His possessiveness grew, and he began to dictate your choices. What you wore, where you went, who you spoke to—all became subjects of his control. At first, you brushed it off as his way of caring, but soon it became clear that his love was conditional.

The late-night arguments became frequent. Jensen's temper, once hidden behind his charming facade, surfaced. He would lash out, accusing you of not understanding his pressures and responsibilities. You tried to be supportive, to be the perfect partner, but nothing seemed to be enough.

You began to feel like a prisoner in your own life, trapped by the expectations and scrutiny of the public eye. The relationship that once made you feel alive now drained you of your happiness.

The turning point came one night when you discovered Jensen's infidelity. You found messages on his phone from a woman named Claire. The words were explicit, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Your heart shattered as you realized that the man you thought you knew had betrayed you.

Confronting Jensen was one of the hardest things you had ever done. He denied it at first, then tried to downplay it. But the evidence was irrefutable. The betrayal cut deep, leaving scars that would take years to heal.

Despite the heartbreak, you tried to salvage the relationship. You didn't want to believe that the fairy tale was over. You attended couples therapy, made compromises, and tried to forgive. But the trust was gone, and without it, the relationship was a shadow of what it once was.

The final straw came when another woman, Lisa, contacted you. She had photos and videos of Jensen with her, and she was threatening to expose them to the media unless you paid her a significant amount of money. You were truly at your breaking point.

The humiliation, the betrayal, and the constant pressure became too much to bear. You decided to expose Jensen and the women who had been involved with him. You gathered all the evidence, and with a heavy heart, you released it to the public.

The reaction was immediate and explosive. Social media was ablaze with shock and outrage. Jensen's image, once so pristine, was shattered. The world saw him for who he truly was—a man who had deceived and manipulated those closest to him.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Your phone buzzes incessantly on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with each incoming call, text, and notification. It’s been going on for hours now, ever since the news broke. The media is in a frenzy, and your family and friends are no different. Everyone wants to know if it’s true, if the rumors about Jensen’s infidelity are real. But you can’t bring yourself to face it. You’ve been lying in bed, numb and drained, staring at the ceiling as if you could will the world away.

Each buzz feels like a jolt, a painful reminder of the life you thought you had, the relationship you thought was solid. Jensen had been controlling, isolating you from everyone you cared about, but you never imagined it would come to this. The betrayal cuts deeper than you ever thought possible, and the pain is almost numbing in its intensity.

You roll over, burying your face in the pillow, trying to block out the noise, the world, everything. But then, amidst the endless stream of messages and calls, a name flashes across your screen that makes you freeze. Lewis.

You haven’t spoken to him in what feels like forever. Jensen had made sure of that, keeping you away from your friends, especially Lewis. But seeing his name now stirs something inside you, a mix of longing, relief, and an overwhelming sense of loss. You reach for the phone with trembling hands and answer, but you can’t bring yourself to say anything. The words are stuck in your throat, your heart pounding painfully in your chest.

“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice is soft, laced with concern, and just hearing it makes the tears you’ve been holding back start to fall. “Y/N/N, are you there?”

“Hi, Lewis,” you manage to choke out, your voice cracking as you try to keep the sobs at bay.

“Y/N/N…” He says your name again, but this time, it’s different. It’s like he’s trying to reach out and hold you, even though you’re miles apart. “Where are you? I’ll fly to you right now. Just tell me where you are, sweetheart.”

You close your eyes, the endearment hitting you like a wave. It’s been so long since someone called you that with genuine care. “I just… I just want to be alone,” you whisper, barely audible.

“Y/N/N, no,” he says, his voice more urgent now. “You’ve been through so much, and I’ve been worried about you for the longest time. Please, don’t shut me out.”

“Lewis, please…” You’re crying again, harder this time, the words coming out between broken sobs. “I’m… I’ll be okay. I just… I need time. I need to be alone. And I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry for not staying in contact with you. I should have…”

“Shhh, shhh, no, no, Y/N/N,” Lewis interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s not.”

“But it is,” you protest weakly, your guilt and shame threatening to swallow you whole. “It is, Lewis. I pushed you away. I let him push you away.”

“Y/N/N, listen to me,” he says, his tone softer now, soothing. “It’s not your fault. You don’t have to carry that. I’m just so sorry you’ve had to go through this.”

You’re silent, your chest heaving with the effort of trying to breathe through the pain. You want to believe him, to let go of the guilt, but it’s so hard. Everything feels so heavy, so overwhelming.

“Y/N/N?” Lewis’s voice breaks through your thoughts, anchoring you. “Talk to me. Please.”

You swallow hard, trying to find the words, but all you can manage is a whisper. “I have to go.”

“No, Y/N/N, don’t…” He sounds desperate now, almost pleading. “Please don’t hang up.”

“Lewis, it’s okay,” you say, though your voice is shaking. “I just… I need to turn my phone off and go away for a while. I just wanted to hear your voice before I go.”

“Go?” Lewis’s voice is strained with worry. “Y/N/N, you’re scaring me. Please, don’t do anything—”

“I’m not going to harm myself, Lewis,” you quickly reassure him, though you can hear the fear in his voice. “I just need to be away from everything—the phone, social media, the public. All of it. I need space. I need silence. I need some peace.”

There’s a long pause on the other end, and you can almost feel his struggle, his desire to reach through the phone and hold you, to keep you from slipping away. “Okay, Y/N/N,” he finally says, his voice soft, filled with a tenderness that makes your heart ache. “I just want you to know that I care about you so much. I’m here for you, no matter what. Always.”

Your throat tightens again, and you fight to keep your voice steady. “I know, Lew. I know.”

The silence that follows is both comforting and painful, a shared moment of understanding and loss. You can almost see him, the way he would look at you with those concerned eyes, the way he would hold you until the pain wasn’t so suffocating.

“Goodbye, Lewis,” you whisper, your voice breaking.

“I’ll talk to you later, Y/N/N,” he replies, a quiet determination in his tone that you know so well.

The call ends, and you’re left staring at the screen, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. The hurt is still there, raw and painful, but there’s a small sliver of warmth now, too. Hearing his voice again, knowing he’s still there for you, gives you a fragile sense of comfort.

You turn off your phone, letting the silence envelop you. The world outside fades away, and for a moment, it’s just you in the quiet, trying to piece together the shattered fragments of your heart.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

For the past year and a half, you distanced yourself from everyone, including Lewis. You buried yourself in work, traveled alone, and avoided any situation that might bring back memories of what you lost. Your heart ached, but you told yourself it was better this way. Safer.

You threw yourself into your career, taking on projects that challenged and inspired you. You even went back to school. You traveled to places you had always dreamed of visiting, finding solace in the beauty of the world. You spent time in nature, hiking, meditating, and rediscovering yourself.

The media had a field day with your disappearance. Speculations ran wild, but you remained silent, focusing on your healing. You took up new hobbies, learned new skills, and invested in yourself. Slowly, you began to rebuild your confidence and sense of self-worth.

You emerged from the shadows stronger, wiser, and more determined than ever. Your hard work paid off, and you made a name for yourself. Your projects received critical acclaim, and your name was on everyone's lips for all the right reasons.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Tonight was your first public appearance since exposing Jensen. The Met Gala was the event of the year, and you had been meticulously preparing for it. Your stylist had outdone herself, and when you looked in the mirror, you saw a vision of elegance and strength.

As you stepped onto the red carpet, the flashes of cameras and the shouts of fans filled the air. You walked with confidence, your head held high, and a smile that spoke of triumph and resilience.

"Y/N, you look stunning!" the photographers called out.

"Over here, Y/N! Give us a smile!"

You obliged, posing for the cameras and greeting the fans. It felt good to be back, to be seen and appreciated for who you had become.

The crowded after-party buzzed with energy, laughter, and the clinking of glasses. People mingled, dressed to the nines, chatting and dancing in the dimly lit room. The atmosphere was electric, but you found yourself standing still, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. You hadn't seen Lewis in years, and the sight of him now, just a few feet away, sent a shiver down your spine.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis Hamilton, your former best friend. Lewis had been your rock, your confidant, and your best friend. He had been there through thick and thin, always ready with a comforting word or a warm embrace. It had been years since you last spoke to him, even longer since you last saw him, and the sight of him brought back a flood of memories. You hesitated, unsure of what to do.

Lewis spotted you and made his way over. His presence was as comforting as ever, and when he reached you, he placed his hand on your arm and leaned in close.

"Hi, Y/N," he said softly, his voice a soothing balm to your nerves.

"Hi, Lewis," you replied, trying to steady your racing heart.

His eyes held a mix of emotions—concern, relief, and something deeper. His presence was both comforting and disconcerting. The familiar warmth of his hand on your arm, the concern in his eyes, and the gentle tone of his voice—all of it felt like home. And yet, there was something else, something new, stirring within you. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.

You stood there, staring into his eyes, and your mind began to drift back to the countless moments you had shared with Lewis. The late-night conversations, the laughter, the shared dreams and hopes. He had always been your anchor, grounding you when the world felt too overwhelming. You remembered the way he would listen to you, truly listen, making you feel heard and understood. No one else had ever made you feel that way.

Lewis had been there during some of the darkest times in your life. When you first broke into the entertainment industry and faced the pressures of fame, he was the one who kept you grounded. He had a way of making you see the bigger picture, of reminding you of your worth and potential. His encouragement had been a constant source of strength for you.

As your mind wandered, you recalled the moments of pure joy you had shared with him. The spontaneous road trips, the late-night drives, the silly arguments that always ended in laughter. Lewis had a way of making even the mundane feel magical. He brought a sense of adventure and excitement into your life, and you cherished every moment you spent with him.

And then there were the quieter moments, the times when words weren't needed. Sitting in comfortable silence, watching the sunset, or simply being in each other's presence. Those moments had a depth and intimacy that you hadn't experienced with anyone else. It was in those moments that you felt truly seen and understood.

But as your relationship with Jensen took over, you had drifted away from Lewis. The demands of your high-profile romance consumed you, and you found yourself distancing from the people who mattered most. Lewis had tried to be there for you, but you were too caught up in the whirlwind to notice. You regretted that now, more than anything.

Standing here, face to face with Lewis, you felt a pang of guilt. You had shut him out, pushed him away when you needed him the most. And yet, here he was, looking at you with the same warmth and concern as always. It was a testament to the kind of person he was, loyal and kind.

But there was something else in his eyes tonight, something that made your heart race. It was a look you hadn't seen before, a depth of emotion that went beyond friendship. It made you feel vulnerable, exposed, and yet strangely exhilarated. You weren't sure what it was, but it made your chest feel light and your heart beat loudly in your ears.

You tried to make sense of this new feeling. It was a mix of longing, anticipation, and a hint of fear. Longing for the connection you once had, anticipation for what could be, and fear of the unknown. You had spent so long guarding your heart, protecting yourself from more pain, that this new sensation was both thrilling and terrifying.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, Lewis gently guided you to a quieter corner of the room. The noise and chaos of the party faded into the background as you focused on him, on the way his presence made you feel safe and cherished.

"How have you been?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine concern.

You took a deep breath, trying to find the words to convey everything you had been through. "It's been... challenging," you admitted. "But I'm doing better now. I've been healing, focusing on myself."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. "I'm glad to hear that. I've missed you, Y/N/N."

Those words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had missed him too, more than you could ever express. The realization made your heart ache with a mix of regret and hope.

"I've missed you too, Lewis," you said softly, your voice tinged with emotion.

There was a moment of silence as you both took in each other's presence. It was as if time had stopped, and all that mattered was this moment, this connection between you. You felt a spark, a flicker of something more, and it both excited and scared you.

Lewis reached out and gently took your hand in his. The simple gesture sent a jolt of electricity through you. His touch was familiar, comforting, and yet it ignited a new flame within you. You felt a warmth spread through your chest, a sense of belonging that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"I know things have been tough," he said, his voice low and earnest. "But you're stronger than you think, Y/N/N. You've always been strong."

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words touched a deep part of you. You had been trying to be strong for so long, to prove to yourself and the world that you could rise above the pain. Hearing Lewis acknowledge that strength made you feel seen and validated.

"Thank you, Lewis," you whispered, your voice breaking. "I don't know what I would have done without your support."

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "You've always had it in you, Y/N. You just needed to believe in yourself."

His words resonated with you, echoing the journey you had been on over the past year and a half. You had fought hard to rebuild your life, to find yourself again. And now, standing here with Lewis, you felt a renewed sense of hope.

As the night went on, you found yourself drawn to Lewis in a way you hadn't expected. There was a new layer to your connection, something deeper and more profound. It was as if the time apart had only strengthened the bond between you, and now it was evolving into something more.

You couldn't deny the way your heart raced when he looked at you, the way his touch sent shivers down your spine. It was a feeling you hadn't experienced in a long time, and it scared you. But it also filled you with a sense of excitement and possibility.

You spent the rest of the evening talking, reminiscing about old times and catching up on each other's lives. The conversation flowed effortlessly, just like it always had. And yet, there was an undercurrent of something new, something that made your heart flutter.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

As the night drew to a close, you found yourself standing outside the venue, the cool night air a welcome contrast to the warmth of the party. Lewis stood beside you, his presence a comforting anchor in the midst of everything you were feeling. The two of you had talked throughout the evening, catching up in a way that felt familiar yet distant. There had been laughter, shared memories, and a surface-level exchange about how your lives were going. But there was something deeper weighing on your heart, something you couldn’t ignore any longer.

“Lewis,” you began, your voice soft and hesitant, “I’m sorry.”

He turned to you, his expression shifting from the relaxed smile he’d worn all evening to something more serious, more concerned. “What for?”

You swallowed hard, gathering your thoughts, knowing this was going to be difficult but feeling an overwhelming need to say it. “I know tonight we talked a little bit about our lives and how we’re doing, but I just wanted to say… I’m sorry. For not staying in contact with you throughout college as much as I should have.”

Lewis frowned, his eyes searching your face as if trying to understand where this was coming from. “Y/N, that wasn’t—”

“No, please, let me finish,” you interrupted, your voice shaking slightly as you pushed forward. “And then, when my career took off… You were there for me, supporting me, and I was with Jensen, and I cut you off.”

“Y/N, that wasn’t your fault,” he said quickly, his tone gentle but firm.

“I know,” you nodded, tears welling in your eyes. “But after everything that happened, I didn’t speak to you at all. It’s been three years, Lewis. Three years since it all fell apart, and tonight was the first time I’ve talked to you in years. And we didn’t even really talk. We just… surface talked. And you deserve more than that. So… I’m sorry.”

Lewis looked at you, his eyes filled with a mix of emotions—shock, hurt, confusion. Your words had opened up old wounds, bringing to the surface feelings he’d buried deep down. He was struggling to process it all, his heart racing as he tried to find something to say, to make sense of the flood of emotions you’d just unleashed. But before he could respond, you suddenly seemed to panic.

Your breath hitched as you realized the weight of what you’d just said, the vulnerability you’d exposed. “I—I shouldn’t have brought this up. Not here. Not now,” you stammered, your voice trembling. Without waiting for him to say anything, you turned and walked away, your steps quickening as you headed for your car. “I’m sorry,” you whispered again, but it was barely audible.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis stood there, frozen, watching as you slipped away into the night. His heart ached, the apology you’d left him with echoing in his mind. “She’s sorry?” he murmured to himself, the words feeling hollow and incomplete. There was so much more to say, so much more he wanted to understand, but you were gone before he could even begin to process it.

As you sat in your car, your hands gripping your purse, you felt a wave of regret wash over you. “What did I just do?” you whispered, your voice laced with self-recrimination. “That wasn’t the time or place… I’m such an idiot.” You stared blankly ahead, the headlights of passing cars blurring as your mind replayed the scene over and over. You couldn’t believe you’d brought up something so deep, so personal, in such a casual setting. And then, you didn’t even give him a chance to respond. You just walked away. Again.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Meanwhile, Lewis remained rooted to the spot, his thoughts a chaotic swirl of confusion and hurt. Your words had ripped open old scars, bringing back all the pain of losing you, the ache of your absence in his life. And now, you’d said you were sorry, but what did that mean? Was that it? Was that all you had to say after years of silence?

“She’s sorry…” Lewis repeated, his voice barely a whisper. It wasn’t enough. It didn’t explain why you’d cut him off, why you’d let so much time pass without a word, and why you’d left him standing there without so much as an explanation.

As the chauffeur approached him, telling him his car was ready, Lewis felt a sudden rush of determination. He couldn’t let it end like this. Not again. He couldn’t let you walk away without at least trying to understand, without at least saying something—anything—that might bridge the gap that had grown between you over the years.

“Follow that black SUV that just pulled off,” Lewis instructed the driver as he climbed into the car.

“Okay, sir,” the driver responded, nodding as he pulled away from the curb, keeping the distance between the cars minimal.

Lewis leaned back in his seat, his mind racing. He didn’t know what he was going to say when he caught up with you, but he knew he had to try. He couldn’t let you disappear from his life again, not after everything you’d just unearthed, not after the years of silence and buried feelings that were now clawing their way to the surface.

He watched the road ahead, his heart pounding, as the chauffeur followed closely behind your car. He didn’t care how long it took, or what he had to do—he wasn’t going to let you slip away again. Not this time.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

You had just returned to your penthouse after the Met Gala after-party, exhausted yet exhilarated by the night's events. The gown you had worn now lay draped over a chair, and you had just managed to slip into a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a loose-fitting t-shirt. The clock on your bedside table blinked 3:40 AM. You were about to crawl into bed when a knock on the door startled you.

"Who the fuck?" you muttered to yourself, rubbing your eyes as you made your way to the door.

Opening it, you were met with the sight of Lewis, looking disheveled and intense. You blinked, trying to process the unexpected visitor.

"Lewis? What are you doing here?" you asked, your voice a mix of confusion and concern.

He didn't say a word, just walked past you into the penthouse and sat down heavily on your couch. You stood there for a moment, stunned. This was not like Lewis. Closing the door behind you, you walked over to him, trying to understand what was happening.

"Uh, okay. What's going on?" you asked, your voice tentative.

Before you could say anything else, Lewis turned to you, his eyes blazing with a mix of hurt and frustration.

"You're sorry... Sorry, Y/N? After all these years of not speaking to each other and being best friends, that's all you have to say to me? Sorry? I deserve more than that. No, fuck that, I need more from you," he said, his voice trembling with emotion.

Your confusion deepened, and you took a step back, trying to gather your thoughts. "Lewis, I—what do you want me to say? I mean, friends drift apart, a lot of shit happened" you began, but he cut you off.

"Friends?! Friends, Y/N? I've known you since we were kids. I know your favorite movie, your favorite color, your favorite flowers—yeah, flowers, because you have three. I know how you like your eggs cooked, I know you love ketchup but hate tomatoes on anything. I know you're allergic to mosquito bites, and you hate when people say something and then say 'never mind'. I know you, Y/N, everything about you. You're my person, my Y/N. We are not just friends, Y/N. At least not in my eyes."

You stood there, speechless, as his words washed over you. He continued, his voice growing more desperate. "So yes, I'm mad at your 'I'm sorry' after three years of not hearing from you, having to call your parents, friends, your siblings, hell, even your assistant to know how you are doing. So, sorry if I feel like the girl I've been in love with since forever deserves to give me more of a conversation."

His words hung in the air, heavy and charged with emotion. You stared at him, your mind racing to comprehend everything he had just said. There was a silence, thick and palpable, stretching between you both.

"You... love me?" you finally managed to whisper, your voice barely audible.

The room seemed to close in around you as you waited for his response, your heart pounding loudly in your ears.

.•☆.°.•.*₊ ♪ ♫ .• ☆.°.• .

Lewis’s silence was deafening. He stared at you with a mixture of vulnerability and determination, his usual confidence stripped away by raw emotion. You could see the pain etched in his features, and it mirrored the tumultuous feelings inside you.

"Yes, Y/N," he said finally, his voice hoarse. "I love you. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And it’s not just some fleeting feeling or a phase. It’s been there, in the background, every day, every moment we’ve been apart. I’ve watched you build your life, your career, and I’ve cheered you on from a distance. But it was never enough for me to just be on the sidelines. I wanted more, I needed more, and I didn’t know how to make you see that."

You took a deep breath, your mind reeling from his confession. The realization that Lewis’s feelings for you were not just platonic but something deeper, something that had been lingering all these years, was overwhelming. It made you feel exposed and vulnerable in ways you hadn’t anticipated.

"I... I didn’t know," you said softly, your voice trembling. "I had no idea you felt this way."

Lewis’s eyes softened slightly, but the pain was still evident. "How could you? I kept it hidden, buried under layers of friendship and missed opportunities. I thought maybe if I stayed out of the way, you’d figure it out on your own. But the longer I stayed silent, the more I realized that I was just hurting myself. And when you disappeared, I thought I’d lost my chance forever."

Your mind flashed back to those moments when you were close, when you shared everything with him. You remembered how he always seemed to be just a step away from being more than a friend, but you had never let yourself acknowledge it. Your focus had been on your own life, your career, and Jensen. Now, standing in front of Lewis, you saw the depth of what you had missed.

"I was so caught up in everything that happened with Jensen," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I pushed everyone away, including you. And now... now I’m not sure what to do with all of this. I didn’t know how much I missed you until you were back here, but I’m still trying to understand what this means."

Lewis stood up and walked towards you, his gaze never leaving yours. "What it means, Y/N, is that I’m here, laying it all out for you. I’m not asking for anything other than the chance to be honest with you. I need you to know how I feel, and I need you to decide if there’s a place for me in your life—beyond just friends."

The emotion in his voice was almost palpable, and you could feel the weight of his words pressing down on you. Your heart ached with the complexity of the situation. You had been through so much, and now faced with this raw, unfiltered declaration of love, you felt torn.

As the silence stretched between you and Lewis, you felt a tumult of emotions roiling within you. The weight of his confession had struck a chord deep inside, stirring feelings that had long been buried. His words had opened a floodgate, and as you stood there, the realization that you had harbored a deep love for him all along became crystal clear.

"I love you," you said softly, the words escaping your lips almost as a whisper but carrying the weight of years of unspoken emotion.

Lewis’s eyes widened in shock, his mouth slightly open as he struggled to process what he had just heard. "W-What?" he stuttered, his voice barely above a whisper. The disbelief in his tone was palpable, and for a moment, he seemed frozen, as if he couldn’t quite grasp the reality of the situation.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the tears that threatened to spill over. You locked eyes with him, your gaze unwavering. "The recent years apart made me realize just how much I truly missed you. I was so naïve and stupid when we were younger. I didn’t see how you looked at me or how you treated me. You were always there for me, through the good and the bad days. Even when I wanted to rot away, you were there, holding me up."

Tears began to slip down your cheeks, and you reached up to wipe them away with trembling fingers. "Tonight, seeing you again after all these years, my whole mind and body were flooded with emotions. It made me realize what I knew deep down: that I love you. I’ve always loved you more than a friend. I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve put you through. I know I can’t make it up to you, and you have every right not to forgive me. But I am so sorry, Lewis. I love you. I really do. I’m in love with you."

Your voice broke as you spoke, and the tears you had been trying to hold back began to fall freely. The intensity of your emotions was overwhelming, and you felt a mixture of relief and sorrow as you poured out your heart.

Lewis’s eyes were wide with disbelief, and his own tears began to form as he processed your confession. He stood up slowly, the gravity of the moment clearly affecting him. Without a word, he walked towards you, his steps filled with purpose and urgency.

When he reached you, he cupped your face gently in his hands, his touch both tender and fervent. He leaned in, closing the gap between you, and his lips met yours in a passionate, urgent kiss. The kiss was filled with all the longing, love, and frustration that had been building up over the years. It was a kiss that spoke of pain and hope, of dreams lost and found.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes were filled with a mix of wonder and joy. "You have no fucking idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words to me," he said, his voice choked with emotion. "I’m not even sure if this is real or if my mind is just playing tricks on me."

You managed a soft, tearful laugh, the joy and relief mingling with the sadness of your confession. You reached up, gently cradling his face in your hands. His hands were still on your face, his touch grounding and reassuring. "It’s real, Lewis," you said with a trembling smile. "I love you, Lewis Hamilton. I always have."

Lewis’s expression softened, and he returned your smile with a mixture of adoration and relief. "And I love you, Y/N L/N. Always have, always will."

With that, the intensity of the moment took over, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing onto yours in a fervent, passionate kiss. The kiss was deep and urgent, fueled by the years of longing and unspoken feelings that had been bottled up. Your bodies pressed together, the heat of the moment making you both lose track of everything but the electric connection between you.

As the kiss continued, Lewis’s hands roamed over your back, pulling you closer to him. You could feel the strength of his arms around you, and the warmth of his body pressed against yours. The kiss was a dance of passion and tenderness, each of you exploring the newfound closeness with a mix of fervor and delicacy.

With a sudden surge of energy, Lewis lifted you off the ground, his arms strong and steady as he cradled you against him. A surprised yelp of joy escaped your lips, but it was quickly swallowed by another deep kiss. You wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling the thrill of being held so securely.

Lewis pulled away briefly, his breath mingling with yours as he looked into your eyes with a mix of desire and determination. "Bedroom," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

You nodded, guiding him towards the bedroom with a sense of excitement and anticipation. "It's this way," you whispered, your voice breathless. As he carried you through the penthouse, his lips never left your neck, trailing kisses that sent shivers down your spine.

When you reached the bedroom, Lewis gently laid you down on the bed, his gaze never leaving yours. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows that danced along the walls. The atmosphere was charged with a mixture of passion and vulnerability, the culmination of years of unspoken emotions.

As you lay on the bed, Lewis’s hands roamed over your body with a mixture of reverence and eagerness. He kissed your neck, moving slowly down towards your collarbone, his lips brushing against your skin with a tenderness that made your heart race. His touch was both soothing and electrifying, igniting every nerve in your body.

You reached up, your hands working on the buttons of his shirt with a sense of urgency. The fabric fell away, revealing his well-defined chest. You traced your fingers over his skin, savoring the warmth and strength beneath your fingertips. Lewis responded with a soft, appreciative murmur, his hands continuing their exploration of your body.

You continued to undress him, your movements growing more confident as you removed his pants and underwear. Each layer of clothing that fell away seemed to bring you both closer, the physical closeness mirroring the emotional connection that had finally been acknowledged.

His kisses were searing, each one more urgent than the last. His hands roaming your body with a hunger that left you breathless, igniting a fire wherever they touched. His mouth moved from your lips to your neck, kissing, nipping, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. You arched into him, the need for more overwhelming.

Without breaking contact, he settled between your legs, his hands sliding under your shirt, lifting it over your head. As you unclasped your bra, Lewis’s eyes were filled with adoration and desire. "You’re beautiful," he whispered, his voice husky with emotion. He leaned down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, his tongue swirling around it while his fingers teased the other. You moaned, your back arching off the bed, the sensation sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Lewis trailed kisses down your body, his mouth hot against your skin, until he reached the waistband of your panties. He looked up at you, his eyes locking with yours as he slowly pulled them down, the anticipation building with every second. He spread your legs wider, his breath hot against your most sensitive area. When his tongue finally made contact, you cried out, your hands gripping the sheets. He licked and sucked, his tongue exploring every inch, driving you wild with need.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against your skin, his voice husky with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

You gasped, the sensation of his mouth on you too much and not enough all at once. "Lewis, please," you begged, your voice trembling with need.

"Patience, love," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "I want to savor every moment."

He looked up, his eyes dark with lust, before diving back in, his tongue working in tandem with his fingers. He slid one, then two fingers inside you, curling them just right, hitting that perfect spot over and over again. Your body responded immediately, the pressure building, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. When the first orgasm hit, it was like a wave crashing over you, your body tensing, then shuddering as the pleasure rolled through you.

But Lewis wasn't done. He continued working his fingers in and out of you, relentlessly, not giving you a moment to come down from your high. His tongue flicked over your clit as his fingers worked you, the sensation almost too much. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it taking your breath away. When it hit, it was even more powerful than the first, your body convulsing with the force of it. You screamed his name, your vision going white with the sheer pleasure of it.

"You taste so sweet," he murmured, his voice thick with desire. "I could do this all night."

He pulled back slightly, his eyes locked on yours. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "More than okay," you managed to say, your voice hoarse with pleasure.

He smiled, a wicked glint in his eye. "Good. Because I'm not done with you yet."

He climbed back up your body, capturing your lips in another searing kiss. You could feel his erection pressing against you, the need in him just as fierce as your own. Without breaking the kiss, you flipped him onto his back, straddling him, your hands running over his chest, feeling the hard muscles beneath your fingers.

"You’re so sexy," you murmured against his skin, your voice thick with desire. "I can't get enough of you."

You kissed him, your lips trailing down his neck, over his chest, worshipping his body. You moved lower, taking his thick cock into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking it deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach. He groaned, his hands tangling in your hair, his control slipping.

"God, Y/N," he groaned, his voice rough with need. "Feels so fuckin’ good, sweetheart."

You continued sucking his cock, taking your time to pleasure him until he was teetering on the edge.

But he didn't let you finish. He pulled you up, his eyes burning with lust. "I want to come in you," he said, his voice rough. He flipped you over, positioning himself at your entrance. He pushed in slowly, the sensation of him filling you making you gasp.

He moved with a steady rhythm at first, his thrusts deep and powerful. The pleasure built quickly, the sensation of him inside you driving you wild. "Who's my good girl?" he whispered in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "You like that, right?"

You could only moan in response, the pleasure too intense for words. He moved faster, his thrusts harder, each one hitting that perfect spot inside you. He leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking and biting gently. The combination of sensations was overwhelming, and you felt another orgasm building, the pressure intense. When it hit, it was like an explosion, your body shaking with the force of it.

But Lewis didn't stop. This time he put a pillow under your lower back, throwing your legs over his shoulders. His thrusts were relentless, powerful, driving you to the edge again and again. You could feel another orgasm building, the intensity of it almost too much to bear. When it finally hit, it was like a tidal wave, crashing over you, leaving you breathless, dizzy with pleasure.

Even though you had come, Lewis hadn't. He continued to move, his thrusts never losing their rhythm, overwhelming you with pleasure. You could feel another orgasm building, the sensation almost too much. When it hit, it was like a white-hot explosion, your body convulsing with the force of it.

"Lewis, I can't... it's too much," you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of the pleasure.

"You can take it, baby," he whispered, his husky voice filled with love and lust. "You're a good girl, right baby. Take it for me.

Lewis finally let himself go, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chased his own release. When he came, it was with a deep groan, his body tensing, then shuddering as he emptied himself inside you. He collapsed on top of you, his breath hot against your skin, his body trembling with the aftermath.

He rolled off you, pulling you close, his arms wrapping around you. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, his fingers tracing patterns on your back. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft, concern lacing his tone.

You nodded, still trying to catch your breath. "That was... incredible," you managed to say, your voice hoarse.

Lewis smiled, his eyes softening. "You were incredible," he said, his hand cupping your cheek, his thumb stroking your skin. He kissed you gently, his lips soft against yours, a stark contrast to the rough passion from earlier.

He got up, disappearing into the bathroom for a moment before returning with a warm, damp cloth. He cleaned you up gently, his touch tender, his eyes never leaving yours. He tossed the cloth in the damper and climbed back into bed, pulling you into his arms.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"I'm perfect," you said, snuggling closer to him, your body still humming with the afterglow of your multiple orgasms.

Lewis’s fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin, his touch soothing and tender. He looked at you with a smile, his eyes filled with a mixture of contentment and adoration. "I never imagined this would happen," he said softly, his voice filled with wonder. "But I’m so glad it did."

You smiled back at him, your heart full and your soul at peace. "Me too," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I’ve never felt so complete."

He continued to hold you, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your back. "You're everything to me," he said quietly. "I want you to know that."

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, the depth of his words touching you deeply. You had always known that there was something special between you, but hearing it aloud made it all the more real.

"You mean everything to me too, Lewis," you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

Lewis smiled, pressing another kiss to your forehead. "Good," he said, his voice soft. "I want you to feel safe and loved, always."

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with emotion. "I do," you said, your voice thick with feeling. "I love you, Lewis."

He looked at you, his eyes shining with emotion. "I love you too," he said, his voice steady and sincere.

You lay there in each other's arms, the tension and passion of the night giving way to a comfortable silence, the only sound the soft beat of your hearts in sync. The world outside ceased to exist, and in that moment, there was only the two of you, wrapped up in each other's love and warmth.

.•☆.°. taglist ☆.°.• . @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ronpho @minekarina @aeongism @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens @aleexvqa @yoncesgroove @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel @xoscar03 @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @danieldaviddarren33 @flowerpetalk @xoscar3 @jimcarreyfann42 @f1updates4you @booksandflowrs @chaostudee @oliviah-25

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themeraldee · 3 months ago

Note

YOOOO THE “figuring out how to control his strength” fic was SO GOOD, I saw spanking at the end of that, a wee request to expand on that idea mayhaps 👀

Kissing you for enabling me, mwah mwah mwah. I tried going with gender neutral reader for the last one but had to switch to female for this one. Hope that's ok! I'm happy you enjoyed the last one hopefully this one hits the spot!😉

[Masterlist] [A follow up to this]

18+ Only | 1.5k | Homelander x female!Reader | Communicating during sex. Spanking. Riding. Unprotected sex. A dash of dirty talk.

Homelander has been trying to get his paws under your clothes for the past hour of the movie you were adamant you should be watching together. ‘It’s my favorite movie!’ You had said earlier. And not that he has anything against sharing your interests, he loves having every piece of you to himself. But now you are warm and soft against him, cuddling and leaning into him in a way that pretty much puts you in his lap.

He inhales the lingering fragrance of the expensive hair products he got for you. Something in him stirring at the thought of how utterly he’s changing your life, marking you with his touch with every little change he’s making to your routine. Ever since he’s had you move into his penthouse he’s been meddling with every aspect of your life, wanting to add his touch. Just as a reminder that you were his. So anytime you spritz his choice of perfume you think of that and in turn he gets reminded everyday that you make the choice to be his again and again and again.

So it’s no surprise that he’s now peppering your neck and cheek with kisses, pulling you closer no matter how much you protest. “Come on babe, fuck the movie. We can finish it another time.”

“But it’s my favorite…” You pout like a child, trying to pull away but he’s having none of it.

“Shhh. Come on now, don’t be like this.” He’s nuzzling into your neck. His hands wrap around your body, resting on top of your tits, giving your nipples a pinch through the fabric. “Be a good girl for me.”

Now that sends a shiver down your spine, slowly pooling heat in between your legs. It also gives you a great idea.

“Yeah? Well, maybe you should spank me for misbehaving.” You’re not facing him but the cheekiness of your grin is audible.

However as much as you’d prefer him to lean into the dirty roleplay of it all, he pulls away, tensing up.

You turn to face him.

“Are you sure? You know I could hurt you.” He’s carrying his worry openly. But just like with the choking you know there’s nothing this man wouldn’t do for you.

“We’ve been over this baby. Sometimes the pain just makes things feel better.” You caress his cheek, giving him a sweet kiss flush on the lips before you pull away and take matters into your own hands. You lay yourself over his lap, face down, wiggling your ass right in front of him.

Tucking your fingers underneath both the waistband of your soft luxurious loungewear and the panties he’s picked for you, you pull both pieces down to reveal the bare skin of your ass.

“So…maybe you could spank me for not giving you enough attention?” You try to tease him into it, shaking your hips gently to give him the green light.

This does the trick. Homelander places both his hands on your cheeks, giving them a squeeze, really just playing with the softness of the flesh before he remembers what he’s meant to be doing.

Slap.

“Holy shit! Oh-ohhkayy. Fuck. T-that was pretty hard.” His hand is rigid, hard, unforgiving. With his added strength it was definitely a lot for the first slap. So sharp it jerks tears out of your eyes.

“Fuck—I’m sorry! I’m sorry.” You can hear the fear and panic in his voice. In this instance it’s both at the idea of hurting you and at disappointing you with not being able to do the act justice.

You gather yourself, as the sting slowly eases off.

“No, no. It’s okay. It wasn’t bad, it was just a lot. Just rub it a bit. It helps with the stinging.” His hand is barely touching you now, almost worried that he could cause more damage but he rubs your sore skin anyway. His touch is soothing. His hands are perfect. Unmarred, not a single scar or blemish and you feel the softness melding right against your ass.

“Next time, keep your fingers together. Keep your hand loose, relaxed. Don’t make it too stiff.” You give him instructions, not wanting to dissuade him from continuing. It may have been hard and definitely a slap you’d be more likely to handle better as the spanking went on rather than from the start but it was still exhilarating.

“Homelander,” you say his name, to break him from the trance while he’s still rubbing your ass gently. And as much as that feels good you really want to get the party started so you convey the need for more with a little, “please?”

He takes your instructions to heart and he slaps your ass again. This time a little gentler. With his palm less splayed open it makes a deeper sound which is just music to your ears.

“Oh fuuuck.” And it feels just as good as it sounds. Really good. Its gentle sting burns through your skin, thoroughly wetting your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the sensation.

“Was that better?” He asks with gentleness you never expected him to be capable of.

“Y-yeah.” You slurp back the saliva you feel pooling in your mouth. “It was perfect.”

He takes that as his hint to continue as he lands another. And another one. And more. All in the same spot. Your skin is getting brighter and brighter red. The burn is making your toes curl and your pussy throb.

The more you moan the more he spanks you, alternating between your cheeks until they’re both screaming bright red.

“Jesus Christ, you’re leaking all over me.” Homelander says in an almost incredulous tone, as if he’s surprised that pain could make you this riled up. Finally, he sees it for the pleasure it gives you.

“Uhh, s-sorry.” You slur, drooling, already having melted into the couch.

“You’re really fucking kinky, you know that?”

You laugh at that. “What can I say? I know what I like.”

“Clearly.” He ran his hand down the hot, red skin, making you hiss. His hands settled in between your cheeks, spreading them out while his other hand made its way to your pussy, sliding his fingers through the mess you made of yourself.

“My, my, that got you excited.” He shoved two fingers in, meeting no resistance as he pumped them in and out. Even with the TV playing in the background the squelching sound of you is still obscenely loud. You should be embarrassed, really, but it feels so good to finally have something soothe the throbbing pain that’s been building up with each slap.

“Fuuck. Can I have you, please?” You whine out, really just wanting to get pounded into the couch while you’re feeling all woozy.

“So you want me to spank you, and now you want me to fuck you? See, good girls participate. So hop on sweetheart. You gotta work for it too.” Now he was getting it. With his reservations out of the window, he slips right into teasing you.

You feel yourself flush and throb at his words. He’s so good to you. No matter what, he always makes you feel otherworldly.

With his help you peel yourself off the couch, straddling his lap where he’s pushed down his pants. His cock already hard and flushed red. Just like your cheeks.

You sink down on him, letting out a whimper when your cheeks meet his thighs. The skin on skin contact burns, reminding you of each slap you received. You wrap your arms around his neck for support, but really you just want to be close to him.

He kisses you, as if he’s been starved for it. This whole time you were facing away from him so it’s not like he could have enjoyed your gasps and moans against his lips.

You ride him as hard as your thighs allow, chasing the high of feeling full after the empty feeling you had to take each slap with. With each bounce your ass meets his thighs and your eyebrows pinch together in pain. Good pain. You’re sure he can feel just how blazing hot your cheeks feel.

Homelander grabs your ass from both sides, helping you up and down. His hands squeeze the bruising flesh, making you gasp for air.

“Good?” He asks as he massages the flesh, catching you off guard by another slap.

“Yea-AH!—s’good. Really fucking good.” You mumble, your speech slurring as you lean your forehead against his. It was intimate and debauched at the same time and it didn’t take either one of you long to finish. His cock was hitting you just right and with the added sting of your skin and the occasional slap he landed on alternating cheeks you unraveled on his lap. As you cling onto him with spent, burning thighs he finishes inside you with a few more strokes and you fully collapse into his arms.

“See? I told you it’d be fun.” You’re panting against him, trying to calm your poor body down. Spent, satisfied and still burning up. You wonder how long you’re gonna feel that everytime you sit.

Hopefully for a while.

“Mhm. You got any more of these great ideas?”

Taglist (you can add yourself to be tagged anytime I publish a new Homelander fic): @infinetlyforgotten @rafecamsgirlll @nervoussystemss @hom3landr @mrsdesade @nommingonfood

#my sentences are messyyyyyy but I'm sure it's readable enough lol #I should've been doing chores! and look at this #also aren't his hands so pretty #I was looking for a shot where he's sitting on a couch with his bare hands - which there aren't a lot of sadly!!#so imagine yourself on his lap there heheh #homelander x reader #homelander x you #homelander #homelander fanfiction #my writing #the boys fanfiction #asks!#fic request

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fairysluna · 2 years ago

Text

NOT THE BEST IDEA — Modern!AU | Part 2

MASTERLIST | Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4

Pairing: Cregan Stark x Fem!Reader x Aemond Targaryen.

Summary: The secret is out, and now you have to learn how to heal your broken heart and how to move on, and soon a cute new guy would help you realize how much you were missing in life.

Tags/TW: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, therapy sessions (bc she needs it so bad), helaena being the best friend we all deserve, brief smut(?, mentions of violence, murder and blood, aemond still is an ass but now he's also obsessed.

Author's Note: I got a little carried away with Cregan’s storyline at the beginning, but here it is!! Hopefully this will meet all of your expectations, your ideas were super helpful so thank you all of you, hope this is worthy of them!!

Word Count: 6.0k

Tag List: @immyowndefender @bellameshipper @mysticgothicgirl @aemondswifeisme @issshhh

Feedback, shares and comments are always welcome!!

You entered the room. You started to pace back and forth around it as the nerves were eating you alive. Your hands were shaky, and the tears soon came back to your eyes; the guilt, the rage and the pain in your chest was making this whole situation too overwhelming. You could feel the panic running through your veins as your beloved friend turned around to see you.

She looked serious, but not mad. Yet, the panic that you felt in the moment, along with the fear of losing her friendship over what had happened, had you seeing her serious semblance as something terrible.

"I'm so sorry, Helaena..." You cried, keeping the distance between you both, too scared of getting closer to her and being pushed away, "I ruined your cake, I ruined your birthday, I- I don't even know what to say, I'm a terrible friend, this is your special day and I ruined it..."

Your words were stumbling against each other, your mind going miles per hour as you could only sense the fear of losing Helaena forever.

“I’m sorry, I’m- I’m horrible, I’m sorry… I never meant to ruin everything.”

The girl walked towards you and hugged you tightly. This action had taken you aback and it took you a few seconds to react. You wrapped your arms around her waist and buried your face on the crock of her neck, leaving her skin soaking with your tears.

"Nonsense..." She spoke softly, as she held you close, "Y/n, you didn't ruin anything, we can get another cake, mum can go and pick one from the bakery, it’s okay…”

“I’m so sorry…” You repeated.

“Don’t apologize, it’s okay,” she reassured you, “But, y/n…” she pulled back, only to look at your face, “you need to tell me what is going on, this is so weird, I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Your eyes closed as you felt embarrassment. You looked like a psycho back there, and you cannot even think what Helaena was thinking about you right now.

“You promise you won’t be mad at me?” You asked, your voice shaky and unsteady. Helaena nodded and you took a deep breath.

You explained everything to her. How Aemond and you started to play around until eventually you were fool enough to fall in love with him, you told her how he gave you your first kiss and then offer you a relationship with the condition that should be secret, you told her that you were with him for almost a year before he decided to throw everything to the trash by a stupid letter.

And of course, you told her how he forbade you to speak about this with anyone.

“Oh, Gods…” Helaena said once you stopped explaining everything, “You had to go through all this by yourself? That’s why you were locked in your house most of the summer?”

“I couldn’t bear to see him,” you confessed, “I loved him so much… Perhaps I still do.”

“And he brought his girlfriend now… showing her around as if he is bragging about it. What an idiot!”

“I don’t want you to change the way you look at him, I know how close you both are.” you said softly, “my relationship with Aemond is now from the past.”

“How am I supposed to see him in the face now that I know how much he made you suffer? He’s the kind of guy we scream at while watching rom-coms, y/n. The type of guy we hate.”

“It’s okay, really.”

“No, it’s not,” she shook her head, grabbing your hands, “you said it yourself, you still love him, it’s not okay.”

“I must be okay, Helaena,” you quickly said, “he has a girlfriend, he moved on and I must do the same thing. I can’t keep crying for him when he doesn’t even care about me.”

Helaena pressed her lips and sighed, “if it makes you feel better, she is old and you're prettier. She is his Philosophy teacher.”

Your jaw almost fell to the floor, “Shut up, she’s not.”

“She is.” she nodded, “he was his assistant and then… they fucked.”

“Oh Gods…” you let out a breathy laugh and you covered your lips with your hand.

“I always thought Aegon would be the one doing this kind of stuff.” Helaena said between chuckles, “You should’ve seen mum’s reaction when she found out, it was hilarious.”

You laughed. The tears were already drying on your cheeks when Helaena pulled you in for another tight and comforting hug.

“You know I’m always going to be here for you, right?”

You nodded, “of course I do,” you said in a soft whisper. “I think it is best if I don’t come to your house while Aemond is here.”

“That’s fine…” she replied.

“I thought about killing him, actually,” you confessed.

Helaena pulled away from the hug and looked at you with a worried face, “Oh, babe…” she cleared her throat, “do you have plans this friday?”

“No, why?”

“You need a therapist.”

Two weeks later, you were seated in the waiting room of your therapist office, waiting for your second session. Helaena made you company the first time, but now she was out of the city with the rest of her family, so you were on your own now. You were sitting as you were looking at the Weather Report on the TV that was hanging on the wall. Your shoes were on top of the chair as you hugged your folded legs and placed your chin between your knees. You were completely bored without the company of your beloved friend.

That day, you arrived a little early. You had at least fifteen minutes to wait before it was your turn. You were trying to distract your mind, counting random things like the tiles on the floor, or the chairs in the room. You did not even notice the guy that walked towards you until he stood up in front of you.

"Is this seat taken?"

You looked up at this guy. Then you looked around the room. Literally every single chair was empty; it was seven o’ clock on a Friday, there was no one there but you, the guy in front of you and the old secretary behind the desk.

"Uhm... I think all the seats are empty actually.”

That made him chuckle, and he showed you his charming smile. He is cute, you thought.

“I saw you last week with a blonde girl, I thought she might have come with you today, too.” You frowned a little, has he seen you before? Was he watching you this whole time? Is he a creep? He soon widened his brown eyes, as if he had just realized how bad his words sounded, “Oh, Gods, don’t think I’m some kind of psychopath, I- I just saw you the other day and- I’ve never seen you before… I usually sit in that corner and the other day I saw you, and- Oh, fuck, did I just made a fool out of myself?”

You laughed. It was subtle but you did. He also chuckled, a bit nervous. You've seen him before, he would usually be with another brown haired boy that Helaena once thought was cute. Perhaps he wasn't a psycho, perhaps he just wanted to be your friend.

"It’s okay." You said, a breathy laugh left your lips, "you can sit." you tilted your head, and he soon sat on your side.

He cleared his throat and stayed silent for a couple minutes. You did not say anything either. You were both unsure of what to say or do now. You saw him from your peripheral view and realized he was glancing slightly at you, as if he was trying to say something but the words would not come out of his mouth. Something came over you and soon you were the one breaking the silence.

"I'm y/n." you stretched your hand for him to take.

He took it, slightly smiling and relieved, "I'm Cregan."

"Are you waiting for your session too?" You asked, trying to create a conversation.

"Umh, no,” he shook his head, “I've come to comfort my friend. He's going through some hard stuff.”

“How bad?”

He sighed, “he found out his father is not his actual father,” he explained, and your mouth opened with surprise.

“Oh, shit…” you muttered.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “what about you?”

You pressed your lips in a thin line as you really considered lying to him, creating a super dramatic story seemed tempting, but you could not bring yourself to lie to him. Not when he was looking down at you with those sweet, kind eyes.

“My ex ruined my psyche,” you simply said.

“Oh.”

“But I'm doing therapy now so I guess I'm healing my trauma, right?” You tried to joke, not wanting to make him feel uncomfortable.

“Right.” He chuckled, “How long have you been single?”

“Eight months,” you then smirked. “Why? Are you going to ask me on a date?”

Cregan grinned after hearing your teasing, “do you want me to ask you for a date?”

“Do you want me to say yes?”

“Perhaps…”

You chuckled, "well, I'm going to answer you once I come out of my session."

"Then I guess I'll wait."

"Oh, you would wait for me?” You spoke with a dramatic tone that made him smile widely, “that's so romantic…”

"I would wait for you forever,” he replied, matching your tone almost immediately.

You felt something in your gut that you instantly recognized. Your smile flickered as you realized what was happening, and you immediately regret it. You were not in conditions to jump into another relationship right now, not after everything you have been through and you knew that very well.

But Gods, he was so damn charming.

You were not able to exchange more words as one of the doors was opened and a thin brown haired guy walked out it. He looked at Cregan with a raised eyebrow before looking at you and smirked playfully to his friend. However, he just moved his head in order to tell Cregan it was time to go.

He stood up and turned to see you one last time.

"I guess I'll have my answer next week," he inferred, "same hour?"

You thought about it. You really did. Perhaps this was your chance to finally be happy with a nice and decent guy, and you were pushing back out of fear. Your heart spoke first, and then your mind wanted to slap you.

"Same hour." you nodded.

He gave you one of those bewitching smiles as he left and you stood there. Feeling so stupid for making this rush decision that would probably bring you big consequences in your future. But you could not help yourself, and at least now you have a week to think about your answer.

You were debating yourself during the whole session, and your therapists immediately noticed that something odd was going on in your messy head. You told her, of course, thinking that she might give you the green light that you were waiting for. You were expecting a positive reaction from her, saying that dating other guys might help you move on… but you knew that was far from reality once you saw her face turning serious and stern.

"Listen to me carefully, y/n,” she spoke demandingly, as if she was giving you a command rather than an advice. “No. dating. until. you. have. healed,” she said slowly, carefully pronouncing each word so there will be no space for misunderstandings, “you are in a delicate place emotionally right now, which leaves you vulnerable and weak towards new feelings and experiences. You might be right; this guy might be your knight in shiny armor, your savior, your future husband… but we cannot risk it.” She leaned over her chair, getting closer to you, “you have to be patient and wait until you have healed from what you went through, understood?”

You silently nodded, thinking about Cregan and his goddamn smile. Now you had no other choice but to reject him, and the mere thought almost made you shake out of nervousness and anxiety. Your overthinking mind did not help at all.

As soon as you walked out of the office, while you were waiting for the bus, you called Helaena and told her everything. And of course, she said she was going to be there for you when the time to reject him would arrive. Perhaps dating this new guy is not the best idea.

A week later, you entered the waiting room with Helaena hanging from your arm. You looked around trying to find Cregan, but he was nowhere to be seen. You felt some kind of relief after you thought he probably left and now you will not go through the anxiety that this situation would bring to you. But you were never that lucky.

The bathroom door opened and Cregan walked out of it, looking as enchanting as the last time you saw him. He had a growing beard now, which made him look even more handsome than he already was.

"That's him." you said to Helaena, she immediately looked at him in a discreet way and she gasped,

"Oh, he's cute..." she whispered before looking your way, "you can do this okay? just explain all the things your therapist said and you will be fine, he doesn't seem like the kind of man who would get angry if he's rejected."

"Your brother didn't seem like a douche bag and look where I am now."

Helaena pressed her lips, "just relax, it'll be fine, you'll see."

Cregan noticed your presence almost immediately –again no one was there besides you three–, and he walked your way with a gentle grin on his face. Helaena saw him coming and she went to sit, pulling out a book from her tote bag. You felt your hands shake.

"I was waiting for you,” he confessed once he was close enough for you to hear.

"You were?" You asked, your voice coming out a bit lower than you expected.

"I’m afraid you owe me an answer.”

You smiled kindly at him, but your eyes showed him the struggle inside your mind. He knew it almost instantly, and you could see the disappointment on his face. You sighed deeply before starting to speak,

“Look, this will sound as a pathetic excuse, but trust me; it is not.” You put a rebel hair strand behind your ear before you keep going. Your hands shook as you were slightly scared of what his reaction might be. “My therapist kinda forbade me from being in a relationship, or even going out on dates, she says I must heal before jumping into a serious relationship with someone new.”

Your voice turned progressively lower with each word you pronounced, and once you finished you stood there, looking at the tall and handsome man in front of you, expectantly. Cregan nodded, softly. Then he clicked his tongue and smiled once again. You frowned after seeing his reaction, and before you could say anything at all, he spoke first.

“What if it’s not a date?”

You froze. Your eyes narrowed with confusion as he chuckled.

“There’s no need to be something else, we can be friends, right?” he proposed, “unless you don’t want to.”

“Uhm… I- I do, yeah,” you nodded.

“Then we can hang out as friends. That’s not a date, is it?”

You couldn’t help but smile, “No, it isn’t.”

“Can I have your phone number, then?”

You nodded, “Sure.”

And that is when your life turned a little better, and you finally were able to heal.

Helaena scolded you, obviously. Saying that it is obvious that neither of you wanted just a friendship, but you immediately said that you would obey the words of your therapist and not get romantically involved with Cregan, no matter how badly you both want it… you were just friends.

Two months have passed since you last saw Aemond, and now you barely thought about him. Cregan kept your mind busy, inviting you to go out and have some fun. To live a little. You were now inseparable. With Cregan you could publicly do all the things that you were not able to do with Aemond. Now you were not afraid of coming across someone you know, and you were not checking your surroundings every minute afraid of someone seeing you together. There was nothing to hide anymore.

Soon you realized that Cregan was the whole opposite of Aemond. Not only physically, but also mentally. While Aemond was more serious, mature and stern, Cregan was unhinged, funny and easygoing. You found yourself thinking many times what you saw on Aemond in the first place, why did you even fall in love with him?

You never told your therapist about your friendship with Cregan… she did not have to know.

Two more months passed, and you and Helaena finally managed to get the apartment of your dreams, right in the middle of town, in a good and safe area. The apartment was a complete mess when they gave you both the keys, and there was a lot of work to do, especially with carrying the furniture, fixing and painting the walls. You and Helaena knew you were not going to be able to do this alone, so you called for help. The next day, Aegon arrived first with a denim overall without a shirt underneath. Soon Cregan arrived too.

Four people decorating made it faster and easier. It only took a week and a half to have everything ready. That same day at night, Aegon had invited his friends, for he said you needed to inaugurate your new home with a big party.

You did not know when, or how, but soon you were drunk.

Cregan was visibly drunk too, Aegon was already dancing on top of the center table while Helaena was taking polaroid pictures of everything, the music was loud and the amount of people was growing each time. You were actually surprised that the police had not arrived yet.

An Abba song was playing in the background when everything happened. When Cregan was dancing with you as your smile was brighter than ever, as your entire body felt like floating whenever he would hold you by grabbing your waist every time your drunk state would make you trip on your own feet. You were singing loud, while Cregan would only look back at you with a tender smile.

Little did you know that his eyes were filled with devotion for you. He really tried to be just your friend. He really did. But you made it so hard, your mere existence was tempting him. Cregan only held back because he cared too much about you, and because he really wanted to do things right with you.

But while you were dancing, that smile on your face and the way your body moved; it just felt right. Cregan made you stop, holding you still in front of him as his hands cupped your face. Your eyes stared at him, and your smile flickered as you realized what was about to happen. The voice of your therapist appeared in the back of your mind, you felt your ears buzzing as you saw him sighing before he started to lean slowly towards you.

You panicked, but you did not dare to move away because you knew you wanted this too. You wanted it so, so bad.

He brushed his lips against yours, tempting you as you felt his heavy breathing against your lips. You softly whimpered, feeling desperate to kiss him, but he seemed to be taking his time to enjoy the moment. Your hands were holding his shirt, as if you did not want him to let go.

But he did.

Cregan felt guilty about his doings, knowing what you were going through, and knowing what your conditions were. He clenched his eyes pulling back, his hands covering his face as a grunt left his lips and then, he left. You felt the room spinning as you saw him leaving the apartment.

You spend the rest of the night drinking, trying not to think about it.

The next day, you woke up at noon. Helaena went to drop Aegon back to his house, and you were pacing around the apartment trying to clean some part of the mess everyone left behind. You just had a shower, which helped you remember what had happened between you and Cregan, and you wanted to punch yourself in the face.

You felt the urge to call your therapist and call in for an emergency session because you were feeling as if you were about to lose your mind once again. You were about to dial her until someone knocked on the door. You left your phone on the center table and you quickly went to attend the door thinking it was Helaena.

But you found Cregan on the other side.

“Cregan…” you said softly, “I-”

“I forgot my keys last night,” he said, shyly.

“Oh,” you said, a bit disappointed, but you let him in either way.

He walked past you, and you closed your eyes once you smelled his sweet cologne. You followed him towards the living room where he found his keys under the cushions of the sofa. You could only stare at him, the tension between you both was too obvious and you hated it. It felt so odd and uncomfortable, you felt guilty for it.

“Cregan, about last night-”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted you, “I know I shouldn’t have done, but-” he stopped himself before looking at you with pledging eyes, “fuck, y/n, I couldn’t help it… you looked so beautiful and I just let myself go, I was drunk and I wasn’t thinking clearly-”

“You did it just because you were drunk?” you asked. Cregan tilted his head, his keys dangling between his fingers was a sign of his nervousness.

“I did it because… because I crave for you, y/n,” Cregan said, signs of despair tainting his low voice, “I can’t- I can’t help it, I can’t keep denying this. I fucking need you.”

Your breath hitched as you looked at him. His eyes were begging, and you were certain yours were too. Then you could not help it anymore, it was as if he was a big magnet that pulled you in. You quickly grabbed his cheeks, pulling him close to you as you stood on your tiptoes to finally reach his soft lips.

“W-wait,” he said between the kiss, “wait, no. Your therapist-”

“Fuck my therapist,” you interrupted him without thinking.

He pulled away, looked you in the eye as if he was trying to make sure he heard you clearly. He took a deep breath, still holding you close to his body, and he let out a breathy smile before saying,

“Fuck it.”

His lips soon reached for yours again, this time more hungry than before. It was passionate and deep, you both had been waiting too long for this moment to not seize it. His hands roaming up and down your body, desperate to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his big hands. You felt blissful, completely drunk by the taste of his lips.

Minutes later you were in your room, Cregan kissing your neck as he was now claiming you as his. Small moans left your lips while he was whispering nothing but sweet words and praises against your ear that had you drooling under his broad body. He managed to touch every inch of you, to kiss every part of your body, and you could feel your heart bursting with joy and excitement. Your mind would only focus on the man that was now yours, in how good he was making you feel… in how loved you felt between his arms.

Aemond did not even cross your mind, he had been out of it for a while now.

Few minutes later, after you both finished, Cregan looked at you with glossy eyes and a small, tender smile. He started giving you soft kisses around your flustered face while you were trying to control your breathing. This felt even better than sex, it felt more intimate and loving.

Cregan caressed your cheek, and you smiled.

“Does this mean we’re dating now?” He asked with a smirk.

You only chuckled and laughed, “I guess we are…”

He kissed you once again, and cuddled you between his arms. You wished this could last forever.

Once Helaena found out about your relationship with Cregan, she looked at you with a stern look, and, taking over her role as the mum friend between you both, she scolded you. Of course she was not mad, she was just worried about you and what might happen with your mental health if things do not go as well as you were expecting. You reassure her that you would be fine, and that Cregan was not like Aemond in any way.

The next months were blissful. Your little mental breakdown at Helaena’s birthday was now long forgotten. You were doing fine, you have moved on from Aemond completely. However, it would be unrealistic to say you don’t think about him sometimes, mostly because you're curious to know how he is doing. Sometimes you would eavesdrop when Helaena talks with him on the phone, but you would never dare to ask for him… that felt wrong.

Soon a year passed, and Helaena was organizing her birthday again. She wanted to do something small, not being such a fan of big parties. She asked you a thousand times if it would be okay to invite Aemond to the party, and you repeatedly said yes, Aemond was her brother and they have always been so close. It was her birthday, and you wanted to see her happy.

With Cregan practically living in the apartment now, the decoration took little time. He helped you both to hang stuff in the ceiling and reorganize the furniture so there will be more space.

Soon the guests, which consisted of four more friends and Helaena’s family, started to arrive. And you would not lie to yourself and say that you were not deadly nervous of seeing him again. You were scared that you might react the same way as last year. You knew you loved Cregan, but what if Aemond appears and makes you doubt everything? What if it makes you realize that you never moved on in the first place? What if you have a new mental breakdown in front of him and Cregan?

There were so many doubts in your mind that you had to sit for a while, drinking mint lemonade to remain calm. Luckily for you, Cregan did not seem to notice your nervousness, he was busy talking with some of the guests.

And when you were lost in your thoughts, Aemond walked in, but this time he was alone. He stepped into the apartment looking for his sister. You stared at him, expecting some reaction from you, but there was nothing. Nothing at all. Not even a slight tingle in your gut. You let out a heavy breath, relief and more calm.

You laughed at yourself for a moment, thinking how ridiculous you were for being so nervous about it.

“Hi, y/n.”

You froze, your body tensed as you looked up at Aemond. Your jaw clenched so hard your teeth hurt, and your smile faded slowly. You swallowed hard, and the anxiety in your body came back.

“Hi, Aemond.” you said, quickly. “Umh… Helaena might be in the kitchen.”

“I know, I saw her,” he softly nodded, curling his lips into a shy smile, “I came here because I wanted to know how you are? Helaena doesn’t give me many details.”

“You asked for me?” you spoke shocked.

“Helaena hasn’t given you my greetings?”

You shook your head, “no. She hasn’t.”

“Well, I’ve been asking for you a lot, lately… I’ve- I’ve missed you.” He says in a whisper, as if he was embarrassed to admit it. “I have also thought about you a lot.”

“Have you?” you questioned him, raising your eyebrow.

“Yes,” he nodded, “I realized how stupid I was with you and-”

“Aemond fucking Targaryen! What the hell are you doing here?”

You saw him tense as his relaxed face shifted into a rageful one. You frowned as you saw Cregan palming Aemond’s back so hard it made him tremble on his feet. You were about to open your mouth to ask what was going on, but Cregan spoke first.

“I haven’t seen you in years! Are you still jerking off with Ms. Harroway pictures?” Cregan teased him, and you widened your eyes.

“Stark.” Aemond said bitterly, his one eye looking at Cregan with an expression you have never seen before.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Cregan asked again.

“It’s my sister’s birthday.” He grunted, visibly pissed.

Cregan frowned, and you closed your eyes. You told him about Heleana’s brother in the first weeks of meeting him, but you never said his name. Perhaps you would realize that they met each other before. Now Cregan looked at you with concern, as if he was asking whether this is the brother who broke your heart.

“Wait, you’re Helaena’s brother?” He spoke in a growl.

“I am.” He nodded, unbothered, “I think the question here is why are you here?”

“It’s my girlfriend’s apartment.” Cregan said.

Aemond frowned, angry, “you’re dating Helaena?”

“No, I’m dating y/n.”

Aemond’s face fell with an indescribable rage. You didn’t notice it, for you were too busy trying to have an answer from Cregan about how they both met. Aemond was burning, his blood boiling as he heard you excusing yourself and saw you walking away with your new boyfriend.

He hated it. He hated seeing you with someone else being so happy and blissful. A year ago you were still waiting for him, you were still dreaming about getting back with him, but now you had moved one and fucked another man… and the fact that it was Cregan Stark made it even worse.

The same Cregan Stark that made Aemond be the second best in everything at school. No matter how hard he tried, how many nights he would spend studying for a test or training for the school Tourneys, Cregan would always beat him. He was Aemond’s biggest nightmare, and now, somehow, he managed to have you. Once again, Aemond lost to Cregan.

Perhaps it was the fact that it was him the one that was kissing you right in front of him, perhaps it was the fact that his ex left him for another man two months ago, or perhaps it was the pettines inside of him, but he was drunk in madness now. He wanted to pull you away from him and break his face.

He saw how he grabbed your waist in the same way he did once, he saw you looking at him with devotion and love as you spoke, making him smile. You were clearly in love with one another, and Aemond could not handle it. He hated it. You should be begging him to get back together, to be with him again. You should be watching him the same way you were watching Cregan.

You should be with him. Not with Cregan.

As the evening went by, things were getting worse for the silver haired man. He had not stopped staring at you during the whole party; each movement, each word and each breath you took were under a stare filled with hate and anger, filled with spite. Aemond would be unable to take his eyes off of you, and with each minute passing by, he would get more and more mad.

He remembered how soft your skin was, how gently you would kiss him and touch him, how beautiful your laugh was. He remembered your scent, your delicacy and playful stares. He would also remember the way you felt against his skin, the way you would squirm under his touch and how your soft moans would be silenced by his kisses.

At that point in the night, he knew he had to have you back. You were his once, and will be his again, he would make sure of it. He wanted you to be desperate for his touch once more, he wanted all your attention and love for him. Only for him.

He was the only one worthy of your love. How did you even dare trying to find another man when he is all that you need?

A hand on his shoulder made him wake up from his trance. He soon recognized the voice of Cregan buzzing in his ears; “I’ve seen you staring at her the whole night,” Cregan grunted, trying to sound calm, “leave her alone, you’ve caused her enough misery already.”

Aemond scoffed, and his daring voice came out, “and who are you to tell me what I have to do?”

“Don’t be a fucking asshole, man. You didn’t appreciate her when you had her, now she is happy. She’s with me, leave her alone.”

He clicked his tongue as a smug grin started to appear on his face, “I made her fall in love with me once, I know that as soon as I speak to her she will be eating from the palm of my hand once again.”

Cregan clenched his jaw after hearing him speaking about you that way. He breathed deep a few times trying to maintain his composure, not wanting to start an unnecessary fight on Helaena’s birthday. Instead, he just let out a breathy laugh and say,

“Look, she moved on… perhaps you should move on too and stop being so obsessed with her.”

Aemond tensed hearing those words. He remembered them too well. The fact that Cregan knew them too was proof enough to know that you had told him all of it, and that was the last straw; what he needed to explode.

In a blink Aemond punched Cregan and cut his cheekbone with his rings. You were coming out of the kitchen with a platter of cookies when you saw them pushing each other. Aemond was beating Cregan while the last one was trying to defend himself instead of punching back. Your heart sank as you heard the guests’ gasp. Alicent was the first one to react, trying to make the both men stop.

Aemond did not hear his mother screaming, he did not hear your pleas. He certainly did not feel Aegon pulling his shirt. His eyes were only seeing red as his hand was still beating Cregan. He thought about not stopping until killing him, to get him out of the way so he would get back to you. Cregan was an obstacle on his path back to you, and he wanted to get rid of it.

His mind was blind with the adrenaline of the moment, too filled with rage to even realize what was happening, and all his negative emotions became even worse when Cregan gave him a punch back. It was not until a group of three men pulled him back that he finally stopped.

He was breathing fast, looking bewildered by his own actions. He looked around, he saw you running towards Cregan as you worryingly held his bloody face. He frowned; you should be comforting him, not Cregan.

Soon Alicent stepped in, grasping Aemond’s arm strong enough to force him to look at her, “What the hell were you thinking?!” She scolded him.

He did not answer to his mother, instead, he looked at you. You were already staring at him with disbelief, and a bit of anger. You shook your head slightly as you were helping Cregan to go to your room in order to heal his wounds.

Aemond clenched his hands, and he breathed heavily. He will have to find another way to make you his again, because killing your new boyfriend was not the best idea.

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buffysummers · 6 months ago

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I just wanna share a little story about my little puppy Anya. So, she's been having a lot of allergy issues, so my vet gave me prescription shampoo to hopefully help with the itching. I don't normally give her a lot of baths because I usually hose her legs down when we play outside, and also she's a German Shepherd and they normally only need like 3-4 baths a year.

Well, Anya is 68 pounds so it's difficult for me to lift her up into the tub. And she did NOT want to get in that tub. Every time I tried to pick her up, she would plant herself on the ground. Coupled with her weight and how strong she is, there was just no way in hell I was getting her in that tub without someone else's help and I was alone.

So, I just stood in the tub and let her try to catch the water with her mouth because that's one of her favorite things to do. I kept using encouraging words, I spoke in my baby voice and I kept telling her it's okay, it's safe here. Eventually she stood on her front two paws and she was leaning over, but she was still too scared to get in. I was just petting her and saying over and over again that it's okay, you can get in! I was motioning her to the bottom of the tub, telling her this was the place I needed her to be. She then started to like climb on me because she knew that I was telling her to do something but she was like "Mom!! I'm scared though!!!"

So, after like 10 minutes of me just chilling in there with her, she finally decided to climb in. She slid a little and it wasn't graceful at all, but she did it!!! I watched her overcome her fears in real time!!! It would've been way easier if I just forced her in there but I didn't want to traumatize her.

She was such a good girl throughout the bath and then she even let me use my hair dryer on her lol. She was scared of that at first too but then again when I told her it was okay she laid down right in front of me.

All of this to say, I love my dog!!! She's such a smart girl and she really trusts me. She may be a handful at times but the fact that I know I have her trust is just so nice like I'm tearing up I love her 🥹🥹🥹

#don't expect anyone to read this #but I love my little cutie!!!#anya #anyanka

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hollyethecurious · 2 years ago

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CS AU: Pan Says... (5/?)

Summary: After waking up in a strange room with a naked stranger, Emma and Killian must endure the twisted game their kidnapper insists they play in order to gain provisions and avoid punishments.

A/N: I know, I know, I KNOW! I’m sorry. I’m a bad, bad writer, making y’all wait so long for this update. I truly apologize. My muse took a bit of a sabbatical, but hopefully she’s back and ready to work. I have things pretty well mapped out for this fic from this point on, so fingers crossed I can keep her on task.

Lots of love to @ultraluckycatnd and @kmomof4 for their exceptional beta skills on this one!

Rated E /Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me! / Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four

Part Five

Consciousness returned slowly. The buzz of the fluorescents, the warmth of the blanket, the soft caress of fingers carding through his hair, the scent of his Swan, the dryness of his tongue as it stuck to the roof of his mouth, all points of awareness that were sharpening with clarity as he broke free from the confines of sleep.

“Killian?” Emma whispered, having sensed the change in his breathing. “Killian, are you awake?”

With effort, Killian managed to pry his eyes open and focus on the concerned pinch in his Swan’s brows. Reaching up, he intended to soothe it away with the pad of his thumb, but when he opened his mouth to respond, all that came out was a croaked, “Aye,” before he erupted into a fit of coughs from the cool air hitting the aridness of his throat.

“Hang on,” Emma said, scrambling from their bed so she could fetch him a glass of water. “Drink this.”

Bringing the cup to his lips, Killian took slow sips. Once his thirst was adequately slaked, he handed the cup back to Emma and asked, “What happened?”

A look of distress flashed across her features as she responded, “You don’t… what’s the last thing you remember?”

Rubbing his temples with his thumb and forefinger, the memories of what had happened before he’d blacked out began to flood his mind. A maelstrom of emotions bombarded him: fear, anger, lust, guilt, terror, euphoria, and relief. His pulse began to race, his heart hammering against his ribs as he reached up and felt for the small puncture wound in his neck, even as his body began to respond to the memory of Emma on her knees in front of him.

“I, um…” His cheeks began to feel warm, and the tips of his ears were practically on fire. “I remember you… you saved me. When Pan had me injected with poison. You…” In an attempt to even his breathing and slow his libido, Killian sucked in a deep breath and sat up further in their bed, only to realize he was still completely naked. Ignoring how that realization spiked his arousal, Killian refocused his thoughts. “I remember them administering the antidote, but everything after that is… how did we get back here?”

Seemingly oblivious to his current turmoil, Emma tucked her legs beneath her and told him, “Whatever they gave you knocked you out pretty fast. One of the Lost Ones helped me get you back to our room.”

Killian sat up from the headboard, his eyes raking over her for signs of harm. “A Lost One? Did he… Did he hurt you? Pan didn’t--”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, reaching out and taking his hand in her own. “He just carried you back, put you in bed, then…”

“Then… what?”

Emma chewed her lip, her eyes cutting towards the camera that monitored them. Scooting towards him, she lowered her voice and shared, “He told me something, and I… I think he knows you. I think he--”

“Knows me?” Killian balked. “What did he say?”

Running her tongue over her lip, Emma flicked her gaze once more to the surveillance, giving Killian a moment to try, once again, to calm his body’s reactions.

“When they took you away,” she began, her voice still low, but tight and halting, “he told me that if I cared for you at all, then I had to do what Pan said. There was something in his eyes. He looked, I don't know… scared. For you. Then, after we got you back here, I confronted him about it, and he said, ‘There are only two reasons people find themselves here. Because they have either crossed Pan, or because they are the punishment for those who did.’ He said our being here is a punishment for someone who crossed Pan.”

“And you think I am that Lost One’s punishment?”

Emma opened her mouth, but was cut off by the crackle of speakers, preempting her reply as Pan’s voice echoed through their room.

“Oh, good! You’re awake. I was afraid you’d sleep the rest of the day away.”

“We wouldn’t want to put a damper on whatever sick or sadistic plan you have in mind for us,” Emma muttered sarcastically, earning her an amused huff from Killian. He was gladdened that she hadn’t lost any of her fire, despite the ordeal they’d both been through.

“Now, now, Emma,” Pan tutted. “I’m here to offer you a reward.”

“A reward?” Killian parroted, dubiously.

“Why, yes!” Pan declared, a little excitedly. “You both took your respective punishments for breaking my rules in stride, so I thought a nice hot shower might be in order.”

Killian met Emma’s gaze. He could see the desire for such a luxury swimming in her eyes, and despite his current state, and the fact he would not be able to keep certain matters hidden from her, he nodded his agreement. Emma left the bed to begin taking off her clothes, and Killian swung himself around so he was seated on the edge of the bed with his back to her, willing his erection to subside.

An exercise in futility, for any progress he might have made was quickly forgotten when she called out to him that she was ready and he had to join her at the door, both of them completely naked. If she noticed his arousal - and honestly, how could she not - she said nothing. Simply took his hand and led them along the line that led to the shower room.

“You go first, love,” he told her, knowing that only one shower actually worked. Grabbing her caddy from the bench, he handed it to her then picked his up and held it in front of him, hiding himself from her view even as he turned around in an attempt to give her some privacy. An action that would also prove futile.

“Oh, one more thing before you begin,” Pan’s voice grated from overhead. “I’m sure you’d like a towel this time, so Emma, in order for you to receive yours, Killian has to watch while you bathe yourself. You won’t mind, will you Killian?”

Grinding his teeth together, Killian peered over his shoulder and willed his gaze to remain fixed on hers. She gave him a small shrug, but he could see in her expression how she didn’t want a repeat of the last time they’d defy Pan’s “offer” to earn towels.

“It isn’t as though you haven’t seen it all before,” she said, clearly trying to justify her willingness to comply while still leaving it up to him. “But I don't need a towel. I can just drip dr--”

“No,” Killian sighed, turning around while keeping his caddy firmly held in front of him. “You’re right. A small price to pay to ensure your comfort.” Even if it robs me of my own, Killian thought to himself as he adjusted his stance.

Though he was tempted to set his focus over Swan’s head and onto the back, tiled wall, Killian knew Pan would not come through with the promised item if he felt Killian had not made good on his end of the deal, so he watched as Emma lathered shampoo into her hair, the suds sliding down her neck and collecting atop her breasts before slipping between and continuing on in their descent down her body.

Shifting his stance again, his buttocks clenched and a groan caught in the back of his throat. Each movement of her hand as it scrubbed the soap filled loofah along her skin brought forth a memory of how she had pleasured herself beneath his gaze earlier that day. His hardened cock bobbed, brushing against the plastic of the caddy he was still clutching at his groin, and Killian felt ridiculous for the way his lust was running away with him. It wasn’t as if she were putting on a show. There was nothing overtly seductive in the way she was showering, but the mere fact she was wet and naked, with suds covering her body while within arms reach, coupled with the memories of her splayed out before him, which were seared into his mind's eye, were enough to have him rigid and weeping by the time she’d finally finished.

“Okay,” Emma said, collecting her items and stepping out from the hot spray. “Your turn.” They quickly switched places, and Emma inquired to the open space around them. “I don’t suppose you’d go ahead and give me that towel so I can dry off while taking my turn to watch, huh?”

“Funny you should mention that,” Pan answered, in that tone that always made Killian’s gut tighten with apprehension. “I think you’ll want to wait for your towel since the only way Killian will be earning his is if… you wash him.”

“Fuck,” Killian muttered under his breath, his groin throbbing at the mere thought of Emma’s touch running over the wet planes of his body.

From behind him, Emma sighed. The splash of her feet against the wet tile preceded her presence, and Killian was hyper aware of how close she stood as she squeezed his shampoo into her hands.

“Wet your hair for me,” she instructed. “ And you might have to crouch down, so I can…”

Killian obeyed and tried to center his focus on anything other than the way the scratch of her nails on his scalp sent a shiver of pleasure down his spine. When she told him to turn around so she could begin washing his front, he studied every tile, every faucet, every crack, every water stain within the room so as to try and ignore the feel of the loofah scrubbing him clean. His neck, his chest, his shoulders, his arms, his torso, just to the waist, before she instructed him to turn once more.

His efforts were futile, though. The hot spray beating down on his cock nearly sent him over the edge as she continued her thorough cleansing. His back, his buttocks, the backs of his thighs, his calves, his heels.

“Turn,” Emma said, crouched down at his feet and working her way back up his legs.

He shouldn’t have looked down. He shouldn’t have taken in the sight of her naked, wet, and practically on her knees before him once again. For with the image came the memory of her mouth wrapped around his cock, her tongue teasing his tip, and the way she swallowed around his length. When her hand brushed against his balls he was lost. Unable to keep himself from coming, he grabbed onto his cock and managed to turn away from her; a pained, guttural noise reverberated from his chest from the ruined orgasm she’d inadvertently given him that was spilling over his hand.

“Killian? Are you okay? What’s… oh.”

“Fuck!” he shouted in anger, slamming his hand against the tile wall. Humiliation and shame burned at his cheeks, and when Emma’s hand lightly grazed his shoulder, he bucked it off, turning his body further away from hers. “Don’t,” he clipped out on a huff of breath as a shudder ran through him. “Please, I…”

What the hell was wrong with him?

“I-I’m sorry, love,” he panted. “I don’t know what’s come over me.”

“Hey,” she soothed. “It’s okay. Will you… will you please look at me?”

His shoulders slumped as he complied, turning to face her even though he couldn’t yet look her in the eye.

Her hand cupped his cheek and he nuzzled into her touch on instinct, his eyes slipping shut until she said, “Killian, we have no idea what Pan actually gave you earlier.”

His eyes flew open and he jerked back, his mouth agape as he stared at her. That possibility had never crossed his mind.

“I was thinking about it while you were asleep,” she confided. “I know Pan said it was poison and an antidote, but… he could have given you anything. For all we know, he gave you some sort of hyped up aphrodisiac or stimulant for this very purpose.” Stepping forward, she closed the space between them and took his face in her hands once more. “He wants us to suffer. He wants to make things awkward between us. He wants to force us into situations that are humiliating and vulnerable and harmful. None of this is your fault.”

Killian swallowed hard and took in a shuddering breath.

“And just for the record,” she continued on with a soft yet coy smile, “the fact that I turn you on in no way offends me or makes me uncomfortable. You don’t have to hide that fact from me.”

Before Killian could respond, the sound of something being rolled into the room caught both their attention. A cart, ladened with towels, had been pushed through the door. Emma grabbed Killian’s hand, prompting him forward so they could grab the towels before they might be whisked away again, but he resisted.

“Hang on,” he said, a fresh blush coloring his cheeks. “Let me just… clean up first.”

“Right.” Gesturing towards the cart, she said. “I’ll just grab us both some towels.”

Killian quickly rinsed away the remnants of his orgasm, giving himself a few extra moments to simply stand in the calming waters of the shower, allowing his heart rate and breathing to normalize before joining Swan by the towel cart.

“Here,” she said, handing him two towels. “I wasn’t sure how many you’d want.”

An amused sound fell from his lips as he wrapped a towel around his waist before draping the other over his shoulders. Swan was currently swathed from head to toe in three towels, with a fourth clutched against her chest. Clearly she was taking no chances of being left cold and wet like last time.

They were both relieved to find that, unlike last time, everything was exactly as they’d left it when they returned to their cell room. Once they’d finished drying off and getting dressed, another surprise was in store for them.

A meal. An unprompted and unearned meal. A tray of their favorite foods appeared behind the food panel without any warning or strings attached. Or so they hoped.

“Tell me more about what the Lost One said.” They had been quietly consuming their meal for several long minutes before the silence had begun to further unnerve him. A wry smile rose at the corner of Emma’s lip prompting Killian to ask, “What?”

“I’d tried to bring up this topic in the shower, but you appeared to have other things on your mind.”

“You did?”

Emma nodded, an amused expression set on her face as she took another bite of her grilled cheese sandwich. “Mhmm,” she hummed, waiting until she’d finished the bite before adding, “I asked if you had any ideas as to who the Lost One might be, but you were too… focused on the task Pan had set that I don’t think you even heard me.”

Pawing at the patch of skin behind his ear that always seemed to flare up when something embarrassed him, Killian mumbled a half-hearted apology, knowing her teasing tone and the mischievous glint in her eye were in an effort to keep the subject light-hearted.

“Yes, well,” he said, popping a grape into his mouth, “Any task of Pan’s worth doing…”

He left the statement unfinished, allowing it to hang between them for a moment before turning serious once more.

“Honestly, I haven’t a clue who it could be,” he confessed. “I can’t imagine my being here would be a punishment to anyone in my life other than Liam, and neither of those men is my brother.”

“You’re sure?”

“Aye,” he stated with confidence. “Liam is broader, more solidly built, and besides,” he took in a deep breath, calming himself as the memory of the last time he’d heard his brother’s voice filled his mind. “We heard that voicemail. He thinks I’m on some sort of trip, and the thought of it obviously gave him comfort. Plus, I can’t really see Liam getting involved with someone like Pan. He’s too… noble and self-righteous.”

Emma snorted at Killian’s exasperated tone. “Sounds a little like David.”

“Speaking of David,” Killian hedged, picking at the remains of his meal. “Any chance he might be--”

Emma cut him off with a shake of her head. “Neither of them are David, but…”

“But… what?”

She chewed her lip for a moment, guilt pinching her features as she whispered, “I have wondered if my disappearance and presumed death isn’t some sort of punishment for him or Mary Margaret, but honestly… like you with Liam, I can’t imagine either of them getting caught up in some sideways deal with the likes of Pan. And I have no idea who I would be a punishment for, besides the Nolans.”

Killian scratched his fingers through the scruff at his jaw. “I suppose we’ll have to wait for an opportunity to ask them outright.”

“Yeah…” Emma hedged, collecting their tray of finished dishes and depositing it back on the exposed shelf. “That’s if Pan hasn’t done something to them in retaliation for talking to me about it.”

As if on cue, the speakers overhead crackled, signaling the impending voice of their captor.

“I take it you both enjoyed your shower and dinner?”

Neither of them answered, seeing as Pan’s questions were generally rhetorical. However, it seemed he’d hoped for some sort of response this time.

“Come now,” he pouted. “No thanks or show of gratitude for my generosity today? Might I remind you that I required nothing of you in exchange for both the showers and the meal? Not to mention my leniency regarding the towels… considering Emma never finished completely washing you, Killian.”

Mutters of ‘thanks’ begrudgingly fell from their lips, followed by startled gasps as the room was suddenly plunged into darkness.

“Perhaps a good night’s sleep will help you both gain some perspective on my indulgences, because rest assured… tomorrow our game will be back in full swing. Round three awaits you both.”

“Goody,” Emma grumbled, climbing into bed and settling herself beneath the covers. “Are you going to be able to sleep?” she asked, propping herself up onto her side, facing him. “You were out for a while after… whatever they gave you earlier.”

“Aye,” Killian replied, laying down beside her with his eyes trained at the ceiling. His mind, however, was not on sleep.

“Tell me,” Emma said, softly, sensing that something was troubling him.

It took Killian a few long moments before deciding to share his burden with her. The last thing he wanted to do was pressure her, or endanger either of them in any way at the prospect of breaking Pan’s rules, but the more he thought about it…

“I don’t want our first time to be forced,” he whispered. “Or coerced.” Swallowing thickly, he murmured, “I don’t want to fuck you because Pan tells me to, I want…”

“What?” she said on a husky breath. “What do you want?”

Turning his head, he locked eyes with her, fighting against the desperation to reach out and hold her as he declared, “I want to make love to you. I want you on our terms, not his. I want to have you because you want me too, not so we can endure this hell a little longer. I want to think back on my time with you and have something pure, something untainted to remember. Something I can hold onto with happiness.”

Tentatively, she reached out and brushed her fingers through his hair. “So do I.”

Air whooshed from his lungs. He wanted nothing more than to close the gap between them, take her in his arms, and kiss the breath out of her, but… “It’s risky,” he reminded her. “I shudder to think what Pan might do. I know I’m willing to face whatever punishment he might have in store for me, but the thought of him hurting you--”

Emma stopped his words with the press of her fingers against his lips, and held them there as she repositioned herself, straddling his waist. “You’re worth the risk.” Pulling him up by the collar of his shirt, she fused her mouth to his, but not before demanding, “Fuck Pan, and make love to me, Killian.”

(Yeah, I know... feel free to yell at me in the reblog/comments 😁)

Part Six

#cs ff #csff #cs fic #cs au #captain swan #pan says...#words by hollye

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gdbatbitch · 1 year ago

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Surgery happened on Tuesday! So my thyroid is now gone, along with some suspicious looking lymph nodes. The surgeon, Dr Lawrence Shirley at Baptist Health, was wonderful and has genuine concern for my progress. He told me that what was removed will be examined/tested by a pathologist to see if there may be any other issues, but hopefully this will be all I need to start healing. Hopefully. I'm not saying anything for certain.

The surgery itself was pretty easy on me. The only other time I've had major surgery like this was almost 24 years ago, when my twin daughters were born. That was a much different experience, but I have strong memories of the hospital staff at University of Kentucky hospital, and most of those memories are not positive. I'll just leave it at that. Baptist has been great so far. Everyone I've interacted with has been kind and made me feel like I was being genuinely cared for. Especially the nurse I was assigned Wednesday morning, Cody. He and I had a few conversations about the economy and comic books and movies, and that really helped me stay positive even though I was in pain.

I am still in a lot of pain. Swallowing hurts, as well as turning my head, leaning, bending over, or sitting up in bed. I tried a couple of times this morning before just rolling myself over to the side so I had more leverage to stand. I also apparently talked way too much yesterday because by the end of the day, my voice was all hoarse and that was causing pain as well. So I think today is going to be a quieter day.

I'm also going to be able to take off the bandage on my incision today and see how that goes. I'm kind of dreading that, even though I am curious to see what it looks like. I'm not afraid of having a scar, I have several as it is. It's just I have this weird fear of the incision opening up on its own. That comes from when I was recovering from the C-section and a staple that was holding the incision closed popped. It didn't really cause any problems, but I had nightmares that my guts could just fall out at any moment. Logically I know that's not going to happen, but the gremlins that control my anxiety levels are having a blast making me paranoid.

At this point, I'm at just around a third of the way toward my goal. I've already had to use what I've raised so far to keep the bills paid and pay for part of the surgery. The hospital has put me on an installment plan that will have me paying about $300 a month for 18 months. That is so far outside my budget, so I'm going to be pushing this fundraiser more, and I'd really love it if those of you that have already donated to share this page and encourage your friends to do the same. The more eyes we get on this, the better.

Right now my bank account is looking sad and since I'm missing time from work, my next paycheck is going to be just a little over half of what I usually bring home. It's only the 19th now, but I'm already nervous about being able to make November's rent. And I know things are tight for everyone, so even the smallest donations can make a big difference to me. A $5 donation is just as good as a $500 donation, and I'm grateful for all of them.

I'm grateful for all of you, for all you've done for me, whether it's a donation or words of support or a phone call, all of it. I usually feel like I'm taking on the world all by my lonesome, but I do feel very much supported and cared for thanks to all of you.

Please enjoy my post-op selfie and the grippy socks I absolutely took home with me. I'm wearing them now and I love them. I'm going to be doing nothing but resting today, since I overdid a little yesterday. Later taters.

#surgery #thyroid cancer #fuck cancer #grippy socks #gofundme #fundraiser #help please #reblog the shit out of this

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hopelesslyfallenninlove · 2 years ago

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Larissa Weems x Reader Chapter 3: Notes, flowers….. and the truth

A few days pass since Larissa and my raven self have a mutual agreement to spend time after work, around the same time everyday. I get to see more of who she is and how horrible she feels about stopping what we had only started. I have also got to know more about her insecurities and she has bought me a little tower and bowls she puts food in for me. She has now brought out a glass of wine with her too, and the more she drinks the more she lets her emotions out. I’m honestly starting to feel bad myself because she has no idea that she’s talking and sharing with me. Today before I leave in my Raven form I write a little note for Larissa. When I transform I pick it up in my beak and fly to her balcony. She’s already out there as I purch on the tower. “Good day little raven, how are you?” Larissa inquired, I place the note down and squawk. She looks up and sees the note, she furrowed her eyebrows. “Well what do you have here Raven? A note is it for me?” She asks, I only bow as a yes. She comes over and picks it up carefully and goes back to sit down. She looks back at me then goes back to the note and opens it up. I am about to take my leave when she says “oh Raven please stay with me, if this is from your owner that we no longer can spend time together, can we please have this last day.” I stop and wait she continues with the note. The note says; Dearest friend, I am not what you think I am. Yes, I can fully understand you and what you say but that is only because I am actually human. You see I too am a shapeshifter but I can only turn into animals. This Raven you see is my favorite, it was never my intention to deceive you. I have rather enjoyed our time together. I do hope you are not too upset. Yours, little Raven. I hear a gasp and I look down too afraid of the look on Larissa’s face. “Oh little Raven, if this is true, I-I simply don’t care that you chose to be around me in this form just as long as our conversations stay between us and hopefully someday you’ll be comfortable enough to show your truest form with me.” Larissa says with sincerity in her eyes. I look up at her and bow and give a little squawk. Larissa smiles at that, “well with that out of the way” she chuckles “my day has been horrible a little better now that I have you here. Anyways, Wednesday has decided that this year instead of gallivanting into the woods she would play pranks on her classmates and myself. The only one she’s decided not to prank is Y/N, she says it’s because she can see the pain in her eyes and doesn’t want to add to her suffering…. And I fear the reason she suffers may be because of me, little Raven. Oh and I do wish to talk to Y/N but I simply cannot do that because she has asked me to give her space to heal and I don’t want to push her further away then I already have.” Larissa takes a deep shuddering breath before fully looking at me. “ I wish you could see how sincere I’m being with you.” She nearly whispers but I hear her clear as day. I breathing starts to pick up and she seems to notice. “Little Raven what seems to be wrong?” She thinks back to all she’s said then realizes that last think. “Oh no, no I didn’t mean that to you. I still have no idea who you could be.” Larissa smiles and I start to calm down.

There is a sudden knock at her door, “excuse me Raven.” She gets up and opens that door, “yes Bianca how can I help you?” “Principal Weems, I am trying to find Ms. Y/N but I cannot find her anywhere. I’ve check the greenhouse, the classroom and her room but she is nowhere to be found. I worried something might have happened to her.” Bianca rushes out, why would she be looking for me I wonder. “Are you sure she’s not in her room Bianca?” Larissa questions and I can hear the shake in her voice. “Well I didn’t open her door so not 100% sure.” Bianca replied, Larissa looked back at me and nods her head to say goodbye until tomorrow. “Very well, let me go to see if she’s there” with that Larissa walks out. Oh no no I have to get to my room, I fly as fast as I can trying to beat Larissa seeing as she has long legs it takes her a quick time to get to your door just as you enter. You quickly shift and hear some knocking. “Y/N, dear are you in there? Bianca has just come to see me and said she couldn’t find you. Are you alright?” With a deep breath I open the door, Larissa visibly relaxes. “Oh good, you are here. Are you alright?” Larissa asks when suddenly her face turns concerned. “Oh my dear you’ve been crying.” I reach my hand up and feel that I have been in fact crying, I wipe the tears away just as she reaches up to do the same but she catches herself.

“Oh yeah I’m fine, I must have feel asleep and had a horrible dream. Are you okay Larissa? Looks like you’ve been crying as well” I reply and see the tear streaks on her face. She smiles because I’m using her name again.

“Oh, well I’m - I’ll be fine. Just had a huge conversation with a little Raven today is all. You know what never mind that, all that matters is that you are alright.” Larissa says still with her smile. “Bianca is waiting but my office if you’d like to see what she wanted, I can walk with you if that’s alright?” She asks hopeful.

“Oh right, yes very well then. Let’s get going shall we” I gesture with my hand. “Ladies first” I smile and she lets out a chuckle. We walk down the hallway and to her office where Bianca is waiting. “Hello, Bianca what did you need, need a specific plant or flower for someone special?” I inquire, she looks down and nods. “Very well then let go to the greenhouse to see what we can find.” I star to walk away and I can feel a certain pair of eyes on me. I look back and see Larissa staring at me. I send her a small smile before turning back around and out to the greenhouse. “So are you looking for a flower or another plant species?” I question as we reach the greenhouse.

“I’m looking for a flower that says that I have feelings for you.” She looks down again.

“No problem, I think the perfect flowers for that would be red camellias, they symbolize passion, love and romance. I think a beautiful bouquet would do the trick.” I tell her and start to get it ready for her.

“Thank you Ms.Y/N, I really appreciate this.” Bianca says and runs to find her beloved. I spot a set of orange tulips which symbolize understanding and appreciation. I pick one out and transform into the Raven and fly up to Larissa balcony with it in my beak. To my surprise Larissa is there already with her eyes closed, they open as soon as I land.

“Oh little Raven two visits in one day, and what do you have there?” Larissa says. “I must be special for you to spend so much time with me.” I simple glide over to where she is sitting and she picks the flower up. “An orange tulip, you know these mean understanding and appreciation.” I bow my head down meaning yes. “Well of course you know that” she chuckles. “Thank you very much, I truly appreciate this and I will put it on my desk” I take that as my time to leave, I fly around for a bit before returning to the greenhouse and back into my human form. Over the next few weeks every time Larissa and I have our daily hang out I bring her notes and flowers. I also have noticed that the kids and talking about Larissa and talking to this mysterious bird thinking that she’s lost it. I simply ignore that and continue on with my day and hanging out with her everyday.

Today though it’s been a few weeks since the first time I’ve given Larissa a note and today just seems different. I don’t know if it’s my mood shifting to this fulfilling / unfulfilling time with Larissa but I need to let her know that I and that Raven. For today I will simple write in my note for her to meet me at the greenhouse after curfew, if she wants to know who I truly am. I drop it off and go back to my room, getting ready for tonight. I just can’t continue with Larissa not knowing that it is me she’s talking to, the guilt of it all getting to me. It’s about an hour to curfew when I reach the greenhouse just tidying it up, I look at my watch and see that if Larissa saw the note she should be here soon. I turn into the raven and wait for he to arrive which doesn’t take long. Larissa looks as beautiful as ever. “Hello, little raven. I got your note. And if you’ve changed your mind I won’t be upset this is a big thing to do, so no worries.” Larissa tells me with a soft smile. With that being said I turn around and close my eyes beginning to turn back. I hear a gasp leave her lips, I am frozen in place…

#larissa weems x reader #lgbt #lesbians

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mareenavee · 1 year ago

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If Anyone Can Do This, It’s You

For the prompt: Riverwood Thank you to @kookaburra1701 for your amazing Calder in your fic universe!!! I NEEDED to write a pining Good Bean Nord after all you've shared! Hadvar was the perfect candidate. Thank you to @changelingsandothernonsense also for ALL the word sprints and for helping me keep my spirits up in the middle of a hurricane of chaos. This is for you guys <3

This is an AU where we answer the question: What if Nyenna and Hadvar traveled together to Whiterun, and then went on to Solitude to join the War effort?

Main Fic Universe is Dragonborn & Far-Star Marked and its prequel series is The Heart of the World. Caught up on The World on Our Shoulders and want to read more AU situations? Check out the series If Only Time Changed Its Mind or Take My Hand, Erase the Past Forever.

Without further ado:

If Anyone Can Do This, It’s You

Riverwood was peaceful, despite the raging chaos of Helgen burning in the distance, and the giant black dragon that had flown off over the mountains only hours ago. It was ridiculous, come to think of it, that things could still be so idyllic. That the river still flowed with water and not blood and fire seemed like some kind of illusion. Or miracle.

Hadvar held Nyenna’s hands in his own. He’d closed her fingers around a pouch of gold that his aunt and uncle had given him for her. She was meant to go to Whiterun, to tell the Jarl about the dragon—but he was having misgivings about sending her off alone. There was something different about her that he couldn’t quite place. The way she’d fought that bear in the cave, it was as if she’d become someone else entirely. It was like all fear melted from her as she aimed that borrowed bow. He knew Bosmeri folk were generally trained to be archers, but she’d said otherwise. That she’d been sheltered and could still do that was incredible.

“Nyenna,” Hadvar started, unsure exactly what he wanted to say. What would all this accomplish, asking her to stay with him? Would she take it the wrong way? They’d just survived a brush with death, after all. But it wasn’t exactly like that…was it? He cleared his throat. “What if we go to Solitude instead?”

She looked up at him, orange eyes almost startled. “Didn’t you say I should go to Whiterun?”

“Ah yes, but…you could join the Legion. Maybe do some real good once you’ve gotten in some training, what with the War going on.” It wasn’t exactly what he meant to say. It was more that he didn’t want her to go. She had a strange pull to her. He hated reading, normally, but being around her reminded him of the kind of book that draws you right into the story so much so that you forget reality for a moment.

“I am no soldier,” she said, pushing a stray silver curl back behind her ear. “That, and who is going to get word to Jarl Balgruuf if not me?”

“We can go together, then take a carriage to Solitude. Hopefully General Tullius made it out of Helgen just fine. If not, there’s contingencies, and I’ll need to be debriefed before I get sent on my next mission. And you can enlist, then begin your training.” Hadvar let go of her hands and folded his arms over his chest. The coins in the pouch he’d given her clinked together, the only noise in the silence as she thought about her answer.

“Do you really think I can make a difference like that? That I am…good enough to be a soldier?” Nyenna asked. Her voice was so soft. She still looked baffled.

“Of course you are!” Hadvar said, perhaps too quickly. He felt his face flush and closed his eyes for the barest second. He heard Nyenna chuckle which only made him even more embarrassed. He let out a sigh. “I mean, yes. You’ve already got skill. All you need is training.”

Nyenna nodded and tucked the bag of coins in her bag. “Alright. The worst that can happen is they turn me away, right?” -> Read the rest on AO3.

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tsuki-chibi · 1 year ago

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Ladynoir July 2023 Day 15: Shared Dream

Read all the entries on AO3

Ladybug was dreaming. And the weird thing was, she knew she was dreaming.

She stood in the middle of a vast field. Beautiful flowers stretched out before her as far as the eye could see. The sun was shining in a cloudless blue sky. A gentle wind blew, ruffling her pigtails and bringing the sweet scent of the flowers to her nose. It was a picturesque scene straight out of a classic painting.

It was all because of an akuma.

“Okay, I really need to wake up,” Ladybug said to herself. She remembered exactly what had happened leading up to now.

Today’s akuma seemed to have the ability to put people to sleep. Overall, it was one of the less destructive akumas that she and Chat Noir had ever dealt with. No destruction or people being erased from the timeline or stories of revenge. Just hundreds of people lining the streets of Paris, asleep where they dropped. A little eerie, but not too big of a deal.

Or so Ladybug had thought, right before she’d been reaching for the akuma’s bright red flower necklace. She’d been so sure that was the source of the akuma that she’d gotten careless. The akuma had whipped around. Chat had screamed her name. It hadn’t helped. The akuma blasting her in the face with a flurry of red flower petals was the last thing Ladybug remembered.

Then it was like she blinked, and she was here, and so she knew she was dreaming now, but she didn’t really know what to do about it.

How did you wake yourself up from an akuma-enforced dream?

“Chat?” she called out, rubbing her hands over her arms. Despite the warmth from the sun, she suddenly felt a chill.

There was no answer.

Of course. How could he answer? Hopefully Chat was still awake. He’d yelled her name, so he knew she was down for the count. If he was still awake, Ladybug really hoped he was going for help.

She looked around again. Nothing but flowers. Should she start walking? Or was it better to stay where she was? What if the only way she could get out was where she came in? But then, what if the only way to get out was through locating a portal somewhere else?

Ladybug just stood there for a moment, frozen with indecision.

And then she heard a very familiar voice calling her name… again.

“Chat?!” she cried again, spinning around.

It was amazing how her heart could lift at seeing him even as her stomach crashed through the ground.

She was happy to see him because it meant she was no longer alone, though a small part of her did wonder how she and Chat had come to be sharing the same dream. But the other part of her was upset, because it meant Chat had also gotten hit and that meant there was no one to protect Paris.

“Ladybug!” Chat was running towards her. As he grew closer, she realized his costume was different.

Then it hit her.

“You used the Horse miraculous to get here!” Ladybug shouted, throwing her arms up. This wasn’t a shared dream at all! “Oh my god, Chat, that’s brilliant!"

“Are you okay?” Chat reached her, panting, and grabbed her by the upper arms. He looked her up and down anxiously, like he was expecting her to be harmed in some way. Ladybug smiled.

“I’m okay, Chaton,” she said gently, feeling a surge of affection for him. “I’ve just been standing here. It felt like only a few minutes. But… I’m guessing it’s been longer for you.” Now that they were face-to-face, she could see the desperation and fear lingering in his eyes. Seeing her collapse like that must have scared him out of his wits.

“You’ve been asleep for almost two hours,” Chat said, confirming her suspicion. “I’m sorry it took me so long, My Lady.”

“Don’t be sorry. I knew you’d come for me,” Ladybug said, reaching for his hand. She laced their fingers together and squeezed. “Now please, let’s get out of here!”

Chat grinned. “With pleasure! This way!”

#miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #horse miraculous #miraculous unification #miraculous ficlet #my fics #ladynoirjuly2023

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vvussyboy · 2 years ago

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Courage isn’t the absence of fear - it’s being afraid and doing it anyway.

So I’ll be brave. I’ll try. I am 5 years post double incision top surgery. I am 5 years on T. I am 4 years post total hysto - and I am about 2 weeks into getting letters together, scheduling appointments and hopefully scheduling the surgery dates for voice masculinization and facial reconstruction. My voice has become stronger but it still hurts to talk, and there’s a chance this surgery may somehow help. As for my face and neck: I need to stop being misgendered. Need. I don’t pass often enough to feel safe leaving my house and wandering around what feels like a conservative microcosm in my little West Coast, USA town. It’s a risk.

After these two surgeries, and if I can get my weight down low enough to be a good candidate, I’ll also be pursuing masculinizing body contouring and bottom surgery. Unsure what exact surgery, but I’m leaning towards some form of phalloplasty.

I say all this not because I want to over share on the internet, but because, while researching to find resources and surgeons, therapists and primary care physicians that know an ounce about bodies like mine, I’ve begun to feel very lonely and lost. I want to share what I learn, as I learn.

Standard trans medical care leaves me out because I’m intersex. Standard cis medical care leaves me out because I’m trans. It’s very odd. I wasn’t expecting these things to be this much of a fucking issue. One doctor wanted me on of testosterone, estrogen and progesterone - and it’d cost over $300 a month. Fuck that shit, man.

I’ll be sharing selfies as a way of becoming more comfortable with myself again - but I’ll also be sharing information I’ve gathered alongside them. I’ll soon be posting what I learned in voice and speech therapy - so keep an eye out for em!

I hope you’re all getting creative out there. Be strong, okay?

#trans #transgender #ftm #top surgery #queer #lgbtqia+#personal #vedder cornell #face

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r0semultiverse · 1 year ago

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Hey! 1. you dont have to answer this if it is too laborious, i absolutely get it, but if you do feel like answering I would love your take.

This is a genuine question about ai and voice acting: so, I use a text to speech app to help get through my readings for college. I cant actually afford the AI voices, but from my brief trial period they sound so easy to understand, and I do sort of wish i could afford them over the more robotic voices for my study. Where do you stand on that?

I ask because i feel a little tangled up because 1. I hate AI, and i would rather listen to nails on a chalkboard than listen to an ai voice read an audiobook (also like, i am a writer and chatgpt breaks my heart) BUT 2. It's not like an academic article is going to be properly recorded for accessibility.

i genuinely dont know where I stand on this, and I suppose it starts getting a little murky when we talk about ai and accessibility. Is this one area where ai is ethical, because it is for accessibility? Or does that leave room for 'but i cant draw so midjourney is accessibility for me'? Or can we draw that line more firmly because there are neurological/psychological/developmental reasons someone might need to listen to their academic readings in order to learn rather than read them? Or do we need to push publishers to hire people to read their journals?

again, no pressure to respond. I feel like this is a murky, convoluted question, and ethics can be not super fun to dig into. BUT if it is cut-and-dry for you, i would love to hear your reasoning. I dont want to feel so murky about it.

To make a generalized statement before getting into some specifics; I think that personal private use of AI for stuff like that where you aren't going around sharing a voice actor's voice without their consent is fine. You need it to be able to better read things. You aren't sharing this with others or posting it up for views & clicks & YouTube clout only to (hopefully) later get sued or fined (or a YouTube strike) for the questionable legality of it. If we ever get laws protecting us voice actors (here's to hoping).

Let me clarify as well that consent should have to be given for peoples voices to be used however which ways they are currently. Yes, even for accessibility programs, the maker should be getting consent from and/or paying the voice actors for their voice. Ideally much like how big name companies get a share of movie ticket money & streaming revenue, that currently does not go to the actors/voice actors in a lot of instances. Voice actors & such should not just be getting that single payout for their work, but also payouts over time based on sales with products they helped make & streaming money too.

There's a very fine line between doing something privately & sharing it around publicly. I'm completely against stolen art, commission someone or keep those AI art pieces private to yourself.

I don't think it's on the publishers to have to have an audio version readily available. Book authors/writers & such are screwed over currently enough as is. Having said that, I think people online should be able to read any book out loud/create an audio book & publish it for accessibility & reading along purposes. I can't go reading certain books or literary works on stream due to fear of being copyright stricken. Book copyrights & things aren't my area of expertise though & I'm no professional writer trying to make a living off my work.

There's better educated people on the topics of books & accessibility out there. If you do make a book audio cover on YouTube, you shouldn't be able to monetize it without consent from the author(s). Authors & writers aren't treated great either. I think a lot more groups of people should be striking than are currently.

If it's a bougie publishing company (if those exist), then I think they should absolutely commission someone to have an audio book version of it. The voice actor should also get paid royalties or whatever you call that even after the initial payout though! Again, I don't know jack shit about how books & publishing work, this is just how I think at this current moment in time.

Also if people are going to post AI for clout anyway, they should legally have to disclose they're using AI in whatever they're publishing like how some countries have laws about disclosing when your content is sponsored or an advertisement.

Also as far as paying someone to voice act anything, no company or business gets to own our voices permanently. This is in addition to the things said above. Pay us to voice over a new book, pay us to say those lines, and every other possible instance this can apply to. Our voice isn’t anyone’s to permanently own and do what they want with regardless of context! Pay us for our voice over!

#I literally just woke up so I hope I worded this okay #this i how I feel about AI song covers & other such things #big differnce between private use & posting stolen voices for youtuber clout #im sure someone's going to completely misinterpret this somehow given my recent boom in followers but ah well #AI for clout is something that should be shamed & taken down for copyright violations #in the very least creators should legally have to disclose if they're using AI in whatever they put out onto the web #mine #op #asks #ask #anonymous #anon #ai in art #AI #ai song covers

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hmbdyyy · 1 year ago

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Week 12

Connect CTS A to your learning and professional journey

Group mindmap

Honestly, I still struggle with deciding on what I want to pursue in the future, a lot of thinking has been done over the years deciding on which area I want to venture into that will be something that is worth the 'risk' of trying, while also leading me to a comfortable life. I have always known since the start I wanted to pursue a career that is creative and at the same time non-repetitive, in a way I am exposed to different experiences throughout the job, that is why I took on the journey of learning courses like Visual Communication and Design Communication which are kind of vague in a way they teach different modules where you gain different skills which I can one day apply into a job that requires either all of them or apply the specific skill to a job such as a Photographer or Illustrator etc.

The kind of collaborative project I would like to do would definitely involve working on something Fashion or Music related. For fashion, it would be cool to see my designs come to life on clothes a designer made, the designer could focus on the style and silhouettes they want to deliver on the clothes while I focus on the graphics and lastly coming together on deciding what materials would best deliver our creation.

One example of an illustrator I follow, collaboration with Uniqlo

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A project I did for a music festival in ITE

As for music, I would like to design the cover art of albums, and posters as well as work on merch. Another one would be designing for music festivals or events, which I have done before in my previous school project.

I think it would be fun working on these for the final-year projects as they best suit my interests. Firstly, I think it would be nice to see your work come to life and fun working on the collaterals. Second, the exposure and experience you get working together with clients from different industries. I think these experiences give you better insight and from there you kind of know which industry you want to design for and the kind of projects you work on.

A project I did for a mental health campaign in ITE

For Community Engagement and Professional Skills, what would always come to mind would be Mental Health. I had my fair share of it as well as heard the stories and experiences of people, friends, and families and the setbacks they face. I want to make use and contribute my design skills to create awareness around such a sensitive topic.

There is so much stigma and fear about speaking on mental health, and I believe such dated beliefs should not continue. Through my works, I wish to be the voice for those who are afraid to get help and hopefully, with the help of my designs and the Organizations/Institutions, they're able to shed light and educate everyone. Simultaneously, I would make a point to always highlight all the organizations and help that are free. Many who can't afford would often give up or are unaware as they stick to knowing that getting help in Singapore is expensive. But overtime that is slowly changing and there are places that offer help at a low cost or even free.

How CTS A might help me professionally when I apply Digital Media: Documentation for Art Practice. Firstly, it is important to document everything as it is easy for you and others to understand where the ideas derive from and their processes. Secondly, through these documentations and sketches, it can prove authenticity and not just stolen with no development shown.

The job scope of a graphic designer consists of understanding briefs and their requirements, from there visualizing and creating designs, logos, illustrations, and photos that clearly communicate the message clients want to put out for their audience.

CTS A can help me in my career when I constantly practice Critical Thinking, naturally, it would bring me bigger opportunities as I keep an open mind towards everything and can organize my thoughts in a systematic manner.

659 words

#critical thinking #graphic design #designer #careers

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diogenesz2020portugal · 2 years ago

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youtube

"Creating this song wasn't easy, but I'm so proud of how it turned out. Want to say a big thank you for everyones support over the years. During the years trapped inside with chronic health problems the main thing that kept me going was a belief that one day I would come out the other side, and be able to achieve success through music. I don’t have a label, and sometimes pushing these things as hard as I want becomes a massive challenge, and I find myself frustrated that there aren’t enough hours in the day to push it as far as I want to. I would love to ask a favour to anyone who has ever enjoyed my music over the years, and it will only take a few minutes of your day.It would mean the world to me if you shared ‘Hi Ren’ as much as you can, over social media platforms, with friends, over email. Together, and with your help I can hopefully reach people all over the world, and get one step closer to the dream I always had! Thank you so much for the support so far!"

"Up until I was 9 years old, I would intermittently hear a voice in my head that was not my own. The voice was distinctly different to mine, and always negative. It would self criticise or urge me to do things I knew to be morally wrong. The most peculiar thing about the voice was that it took no effort on my behalf to produce. My own thoughts always felt like there was a process that required effort to bring them to the forefront of my mind, this voice appeared as though it was spoken by another. The sentences felt predetermined like they had already been constructed. I remember very vividly at 9 years old, becoming very frustrated with the voice. I stood in my back yard, internally screaming at the voice to be silent again and again, and it did. In a flash there was silence, to the point where my head felt like an empty room. I wasn't used to the quiet and that voice never returned. It almost felt lonely in my head. When I got older I had intermittent bouts with auditory hallucinations where I would hear perfect symphonies, usually at night when drifting off to sleep. They were so clear that they sounded like they were emanating from a radio in the corner of my room. I knew they weren't there, but for some reason they never came with the feeling of fear. I also recall sitting on a bus at the age of 15, and hearing the sound of a crowded room, with about 100 voices chattering away, I was the only person apart from the driver on the bus. These experiences were always very brief, and few and far between. My last hallucination was during an intense bout of psychosis in 2015, and was my first visual hallucination. I was walking down a pavement after jumping out my mums car in a crossroads in a moment of frustration and distress with my condition. I was trying to run from myself. What appeared to be a homeless man with a dark complexion approached me, and asked me what was wrong. I explained that I had been sick most my life, and I wasn't sure I had the strength to continue. He looked at me, and smiled and told me 'everything is going to be okay in the end Ren.' I had not told him my name. There was something so overpoweringly sincere about this very simple message, which brought with it an overwhelming feeling of inner peace, and in a flash, he vanished. My rational brain always linked these experiences to what the doctors have told me, that there are parts of my brain compromised by the autoimmunity in my body. That the myelin sheaths surrounding the complex electrical system that conduct my thoughts were damaged and compromised, causing these lucid experiences that I knew did not exist inside the physical world. The part of me that edges away from logical and rational thought always attributed these thoughts to some kind of otherworldly intervention, that made my thoughts the battleground of some spiritual tug of war. For a long time I never really acknowledged this part of myself, for with it brought the danger and stigma of sounding like a crazy person. I decided with my latest release, to the best of my ability, to capture and express this chess match of thought."

#Youtube

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valiantxunion · 10 months ago

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Man, it was no wonder Jiri was on his case almost all of the time when he was younger. Where in the hell did this attitude even come from? He was honestly surprised that Jiri didn't just scare the attitude straight out of him. Then again, he had always been a rather disobedient child, hadn't he?

Reading the air in the room told Yuri that the general vibe in the room wasn't... great. Between the youngest being defiant and smarting off to him, he could also feel the anxiety slowly begin to drift from the teen and he almost felt bad for the kid.

A glance towards Repede told Yuri that he probably wasn't helping in that regard. With a low sigh, Yuri pushed off against the wall and moved to rest his sword on the table nearby. "For the record, Hanks didn't have to lead me anywhere. I technically live here, yes, but not all the time. He just heard I was in town, conveniently, and ran to get me. He had to drag me here to make sure he didn't miss me."

He had been on his way to Zaphias castle for a quick visit but Yuri saw no reason to share that little detail.

"And who said I was keeping my name? Maybe I'll go by a nickname too." Yuri puts a hand to his chin, looking thoughtful. "Could be biggest Yuri... I mean... I do tower over you."

The grin appeared on his face before he knew it. And he knew just how badly that had the potential to press the buttons of his younger self because the last he ever wanted was for an adult to look down on him. And truthfully, Yuri wasn't. Had this child come up to him with an actual issue, he would stop and listen of course.

But since Child Yuri wanted to be a little bit of a brat... well... Yuri was fully capable of returning that favor.

Before he could get too deep into teasing the young child, Yuri's attention is then dragged over to the teenage Yuri. Judging from how he looked, Yuri could guess the time area that he had been from and... despite how much responsibility he had in those days, those days had surprisingly been the more peaceful ones.

"...Look, between Flynn, Jiri and Hanks, the kids will be alright. And I won't lie. They'll definitely be worried but maybe they won't be so mad when you get back. But hopefully you won't be here for long." Despite his earlier teasing, Yuri's voice does go soft for just a moment, to try and ease the boy's fears a little more.

He didn't want to think of the implications of what would happen if they didn't get the two kids sent back. Was this messing with the timeline at all? Yuri could definitely say he didn't remember this happening.

"...This kid on the other hand..." Yuri suddenly proclaims, moving to tap the child Yuri on the head. "Jiri's gonna tear into him. And if she doesn't, Hanks or Flynn will. I almost feel bad for you, kiddo." Yuri smirked, the teasing tone coming back.

@valiantxunion | continued

At first the youngest of them hadn't even completely registered what he was seeing when he'd met his teen self. It was the bewildered reaction from his counterpart and a really brief, accidental spilling of a few words that put the pieces together. Confused as he was, Yuri had been about to head off on his own to look for a way back when, well, Yuri had stopped him and suggested staying together for now.

Part of it was that yeah, the two of them were completely lost and unsure why people - at the very least the older adults - were staring absolute holes into them. The other part of it was just Yuri's instincts kicking in and taking hold of the child's wrist before he marched right off and got into some kind of trouble. As much as he insisted he was fine on his own, his older self had doubts about that, and the odd setup they were in didn't help.

Despite going around with a child he could easily just refer to as his brother in the meantime, people seemed oddly concerned and befuddled at seeing them together. Eventually the elder of the two decided it was time to start asking questions, confronting a few of the adults who seemed younger and less confused, albeit seeming to try to figure out why something felt off looking at the two of them.

After a few attempts, someone finally told them to hold on for a bit while they went to get someone. Turned out it was Hanks they went to get, which was a mixture of relieving and just as confusing as everything else. Why did they need to get Hanks of all people? In this moment at least, the older Yuri was entirely positive neither of them had kicked up a fuss over anything or gotten into anything chaotic.

Just like the others though, Hanks was taken aback when he saw them and for a good few long seconds, totally lost for words. He had even reached for a hand on each of them to confirm they were physically present, leaving the two of them feeling even more lost when it took the man a bit longer than expected to let go. After near stifling confusion, Hanks explained he knew someone who looked just like them and that that person lived here.

Lived here? Both Yuris looked at each other. But... they lived here. They had never seen each other, let alone this third guy. Of the two, the teen already knew what he was dealing with with his younger self, but the kid had no idea what to expect looking at himself at around double his age. The only reason he was even able to figure that out was because his teen self had blurted it out in an attempt to make sense of the situation to himself.

With all the weird looks they'd been getting though, when Hanks suggested bringing them somewhere else so they could work this out, they had both agreed. It was just too eerie for them being watched like that. The Lower Quarter never looked at people like that, much less their own people. To say the least, it was... uncomfortable.

On their way to the inn, the younger self began wiggling his hand from the hold of the teen's, almost squirmy. "I don't need you holding my hand, you know." It wasn't a question; just a plain statement. He was right though, and it wasn't like the older of the two expected him to just run off. He was hard to control for sure, if only because the teen knew that firsthand, but he wouldn't just scram the second he found an opening for no particular reason.

"Yeah, yeah, I gotcha." He didn't tell his smaller self, but it was just that same instinct kicking back in. Even if this was a little him, he was still a child and Yuri's first reaction to dealing with a confused lost child was to take care of them until help was found. And, it may have been Yuri himself, and he may have hidden it entirely too well for a seven year old, but he was definitely freaked out at the position he'd found himself in.

When Hanks went to get the apparent lookalike, neither of them had spoken to each other. They were too busy trying to come to terms with understanding their surroundings. It wasn't until the third of them arrived that their bafflement returned immediately. In the teen's case, it was pretty obvious what Hanks was referring to, and it really didn't help that this man dressed too similarly to him. In the youngest's case, he could see the resemblance between the two elders and he already knew who the teen was to him.

The now newly eldest of them seemed intent on keeping them all together, with the youngest being reluctant to have to follow them around like, literally, a lost child. The now middle child couldn't help the absolute pout that exposed itself with the way his elder self expressed preferring to do other things with his time instead of hanging out with him.

The youngest sighed, still somewhat unaware of the problem. Sure, they were... each other, but if they could get that around and tell people not to worry about it while they worked on figuring something out, surely it wouldn't be a problem? "I still don't really get it... but I guess it makes sense we can't leave you unattended if you couldn't be trusted to just come here on your own and old man Hanks had to lead you here. You must get into trouble a whole lot if you couldn't even be trusted with something that simple."

Ouch. The teen among them winced. "Like you're any better..."

"And actually!" Well, the kid found his voice again. "Why would I be Tiny Yuri, anyway? Why can't you be Biggest Yuri or something? Why do you get to keep our name? What, because you're the oldest?"

At that point the teen's mind had already drifted as he shut the complaining out. "I'm... going to be in so much trouble when I don't show up back home tonight..." At first he'd be in trouble, and then everyone would start to panic if he was missing for too long. Was he missing? Was he technically there still? Maybe they could find something out later in the Public Quarter...

#[post-canon verse]#bravewolfvesperia #[Hope Of The Town]

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notnctu · 4 years ago

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push & pull | kim doyoung

❀ slytherin!doyoung x hufflepuff!femreader ❀ genre - SLOW BURN, smut, fluff, a bit of humor (idk not rlly) ❀ details - hogwarts!au, fwb to lovers?, y/n is a player lol, jealous doyoung, mutual pining, doyoung is a lil mean ❀ word count - 9.7k ❀ warnings - explicit language, possessiveness (a concept of marking), dom!doyoung, angry sex?, slight dirty talk, penetration, fingering, praise kink ❀ synopsis - in which a prideful slytherin and an oblivious hufflepuff play a clueless emotion game of tug of war.

❝I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?❞

❝People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you pursue me?❞ ❀ a/n - i changed the plot a little bit as i was writing lol but hopefully it still fits everything! i said this in the teaser, but i want to preface and say that the magic/marking is not canon to harry potter, and that the only thing im using are the sectional houses/subjects. besides that, everything is made up LMAO also pls b lenient with me, i read hogwarts!au but writing it is very out of my comfort zone and am very bad at creating anything magical

READ NEXT PART

Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, mindlessly and imperfectly steals glances your way across the dining tables and under several hundred floating lit candles. He sits huddled with his few posh friends that wear the same green and silver tie situated so tightly underneath their necks. And you, just looking as dazzling as ever, with your yellow and black tie hanging loose and a few buttons undone from your dress shirt.

He hates how easily you catch his attention and his ability to spot your figure in a dense crowd. You barely even look his way in public now, often distracted by a broad Gryffindor that tries to make flirtatious advantages at you. And when he thinks it can’t get any worse, it does… as you’re flashing your bright beautiful smile back at him and the shift in your body language.

“You’re staring again.” Yuta flickers between his friend and the subject of his focus.

Doyoung clears his throat, smooths his tie and physically turns his body away from the horrendous scene. “It’s very hard not to stare when she’s flirting with other men in front of me.”

“Does she do it on purpose?” The silver haired boy raises a questionable eyebrow and Doyoung reacts before he can speak.

He perks up and narrows his eyes at Yuta. “Purpose? Like to make me jealous?” Doyoung scoffs, laughs almost at the ridiculous thought. “The answer is no. We’re not exclusive, we’re nothing.”

“If you two are nothing, then why are you acting like you two are something? Get a grip, it’s practically sickening watching you fume over a ditzy Hufflepuff.” As Yuta prepares to bite into his delicious soft bread roll, it flies out of his grip, down the long table and onto another person’s plate.

Both boys are quick to stand to their feet and face each other chest to chest. Neither one of them is intimidated by the other, but their other friends around them are rather shocked by the sudden discrepancy.

Doyoung forcibly brushes off an imaginary dust off his good friend’s shoulders and draws a perfectly strained fake smile, knowing that others may be watching and he is a Prefect after all. But most importantly, you could be watching. “Call her that again, and your dinner won’t be the only thing that’s thrown across the table.” His threat is loud enough solely for Yuta to hear.

Yuta, with glaring eyes, picks up his dinner tray and walks off with his chin held high and a brisk in his stride. Doyoung clears his throat in the midst of the brief silence and out of habit, fixes his tie back in place. He takes a seat back down and the chatter at the table resumes, but he’s beyond embarrassed and disappointed at his loss of temper that everything drowns out.

Almost everything. He feels a light tap on his shoulder and out of annoyance, he spins around hastily and sharply snarls, “what?” But his eyes land on your fearful wide eyes and the slight cower in your stance, knowing that you caught onto his bad mood. And he’s half in disbelief that you’re approaching him right in the center of the Great Hall, that you’re standing so beautiful a foot away from him.

Instant regret and guilt fills his chest, his sharp eyes soften at your pout and the concerned furrow in between your brows. Nonetheless, he doesn’t have any words to say… he can’t get himself to apologize for his behavior.

“Do you want to walk to Herbology with me?” The quiver in your voice made you seem so small, so desperate for him, that he can hear the reactions of his friends. They’re laughing, at him, at you, at the whole scene that’s unfolding. He feels mocked, being a laughing stock isn’t something he’s very fond of.

His lips form a tight line, and in a snarky tone, “you don’t know your own way, Puff? Mind you ask your own Prefect to guide you.” Fuck. He tried to find the nicest way possible to brush you off, but his friends laugh a bit louder and intensely. And you didn’t like that one bit.

Your lips part slightly in a frown, an eyebrow raised and a hand on your hip. You look as if you’re ready to attack him, to jinx him, to probably pinch at his skin. But he knows you, and you’d do none of the above. Instead, you say the one threat that causes his heart to sink into the pit of his stomach, “don’t talk to me in class.” You’re slipping away from him as you pick up your pace, exiting all the commotion in the Great Hall.

He tries to hide the disappointment that stems from his chest, and his heart beats with an inexplicable dull pain. All he can think about is the twist of your expression and he’s gathering his things rather quickly to follow after you, without even a bid goodbye to his clique.

Without any knowledge of what you two do behind closed doors and the complex history that you two share, one may view your relationship as practically nonexistent; you two are strangers, barely passing acquaintances.

Doyoung does not approach you in the halls, in anywhere that necessarily has many witnesses. You smile at him, maybe even a wave depending on your mood, but no one questions it … as you wave at almost everyone who passes by you.

Classmates might see interaction during the one class you two share, if they pay attention close enough. However, you and Doyoung are much more to each other than passing acquaintances. Although he’s starting to see himself as another name on your list of individuals you sleep with, you are much more to him than you could ever know.

He’ll never forget the first time you two met. He was patrolling the halls for anyone lurking past curfew with his nose dug deep in his heavy book on magical creatures, when you walked right into him and caused the both of you to fall to the granite.

He was beyond ready to dock off points for whoever the rule breaker may be, but you took his breath away when you hovered above him and clasped your palm over his mouth before he can scold anyone. You looked a bit frazzled as your hair was all over the place and he noticed your minimal amount of clothing in the middle of a cold winter night.

He saw the signature Hufflepuff badge on your thin sweater and the sound of your voice completely threw him off his tracks.

“I’m so sorry.” You whisper at the stunned Prefect underneath you, whose body feels warm against your own. But your eyes remain frantically on the lookout for anyone else passing, despite the lack of light in the cobblestone hallway. You most definitely do not belong in this wing of the castle and knocking down a Prefect caused more of a problem in your escape route.

Quickly standing up, you lend your hand out for him to take. His long fingers accept your hold as he pulls himself up and dusts the dirt off his robe. His green emblem glows in the dim light and you’re internally screaming at the mess you just made for yourself. But you recognize his features: the sharpness in his eyes, the small curves of the corners of his lips, his neatly parted black hair.

“You’re in some deep---”

“---Kim Doyoung.” The boy freezes at the sound of his name and he blinks at you, curious as to where you know of him. Being a Prefect has its small perks of popularity, but he didn’t expect for it to go this far. “Y/N, we had brooms together.”

As he repeats your name and examines your pretty features, a light bulb goes off in his head. “The clumsy Hufflepuff that fell off her broom in the highest altitude?”

“If that’s how you remember me by.” You smile proudly, and he scoffs at how someone could possibly hold pride in something so silly. “It’s nice to see you around, you’re a Prefect! Wow! That’s incredible.”

“And you’re still as clumsy as you were a year ago. Falling all over the place.”

“Unfortunately, some things don’t change! But you certainly have.” Doyoung looks at you with hooded eyes and a cautious gaze, but you’re so outlandishly bold despite swaying with your hands behind your back. “Please, don’t take that the wrong way. I meant it as a compliment! I used to have a tiny crush on you, baseless, but you helped me catch my broomstick and I’ll never be able to forget that.”

Doyoung, unknowingly, lights up at your shameless confession and takes another good look at you. You're much more mature now, and if he stared into your alluring gaze any longer, he’d be completely mesmerized without the need of a love potion. “So you liked me over a meaningless chivalrous act?”

“I liked you because you were charming and yes, perhaps I am someone who finds attractiveness in men who are chivalrous. There’s nothing wrong with that.” You bat your sweet eyelashes at him so endearingly, and he’s a blushing mess all over the place.

Doyoung has had anonymous love letters passed on from his friends, but they were all Slytherins who yearned greedily to be associated with his status. So knowing that a Hufflepuff, with an innocent youthful approach to love, festered some form of infatuation with him does flatter him quite well. “I’ll let you go.”

You’re about to exhale an exasperated sigh of relief until Doyoung continues, “under one condition.”

“Okay, I’ll do anything.” Your gleaming eyes sparkle like stars paired with the night sky.

He rolls his eyes at you, “don’t be so quick to jump at conditions without hearing them first.” Doyoung groans and you passively brush off his comment.

“If it’s harmless, I’ll do it.”

And in the dead of the night, where only you two stand in the middle of an empty cobblestone hallway, Doyoung requests, “I want to see you again.”

Although that night marked the beginning of your friendship, public interactions were still scarce and this was mainly on the fault of Doyoung. The times you met were late nights past curfew where he was stationed at and he grew to enjoy your wondrous personality. This boy grew up in a Slytherin bubble his whole life, no one outside of his house ever dared approached him … at least, not with the warmest smile as yours.

You were everything he was not, but he liked it so much. You were a half that completed his whole, and there were growing pains he couldn’t confide in anyone else. Surprisingly, you knew his imperfections more than he did himself and yet, you still wanted to be around him to encourage him. Not to mention, you had a sudden growth in other parts of your body and formed into your features very beautifully.

He wasn’t the only one who noticed, as there were more male counterparts who smiled at you, talked about you, fawned over you. And he felt something heighten inside of him along with his existing romantic feelings, and that he began seeing you in a new light.

With you experiencing new things, like hand holding and being showered by love letters on Valentine’s Day, it was wrong of him to fester such envy over the ones who publicly adorned you. He was so blinded by his hot headed rage that he completely missed the fact that you never accepted anyone who confessed, maybe the hand holding, but everyone else was a complete rejection.

All this time, you had been waiting for him and when you two shared your first kiss together, you had an assumption that Doyoung was going to finally confess that he felt the same way. But he never did. You two did, however, further your relationship into something more intimate and taking each other’s virginities opened a whole pathway of possibilities --- none being one where you two end up officially together.

He was the first to sleep with someone else, that was his first of many mistakes that he was going to make in his relationship with you. It also became the drop of the needle for you to start seeing other people as well, to explore what Doyoung couldn’t offer, to rid yourself of the feelings you had for a boy that didn’t seem like he wanted anything more.

Chivalry was dead and Doyoung believed that the innocent youthful Hufflepuff love had disappeared from within you.

As his present day runs after you, you’re abruptly stopped by a Ravenclaw for a small chat. Damn you Hufflepuffs for being friendly and social. So, he rushes past the two of you and into the classroom to await for your arrival. The quick shade of green flashes by your side and you’re fuming incredibly at how Doyoung continues to play you like a harp.

When you slide into your assigned seat next to him, he goes off like a canon. Doyoung starts spewing backhanded excuses and endless shameless rambles about his behavior. “I told you. Don’t talk to me during class or I will jinx you. Won’t be able to talk with your tongue stuck to the roof of your mouth.”

“You’re not going to jinx me.” With a subtle flick of his wrist, your chair is pulled closer to his. “And if you were to do so, you wouldn’t do something so cynical.” Yelping at the abrupt usage of his magic, you’re irritably pressing your ink into your journal with a newfound annoyance.

“You’re right. I’d turn you into a duck, so at least, you’re still cute to look at.” The mindless scribbles on the paper make no sense in your head, as you’re primarily zoned in on the disrupted energy you have about your Slytherin companion. These ill feelings make you almost sick, wanting to shut out any bad replay of the moments before and forgetting about the attention you seek so much from Doyoung.

“For you to successfully cast a jinx on me, you must make eye contact first.” His finger lifts your chin and you’re eye to eye with his lustful dark stare. Doyoung licks his lips, a shine shimmers from his saliva, and he’s tempted to bring you into his chambers for an intimacy he’s been craving. “My, oh my. You’re looking very charmed today.” A grin curves up and taunts you, and you’re blinking away down at the table.

“Doyoung, we’re in class. Please, focus.” Your desperate whisper turns into a whine once his cold hand slyly smooths over your bare knee.

“Are you free later tonight?” Doyoung peers over at your side profile and your skin feels soft at his fingertips. He’s imagining your intoxicating scent mixing with his sheets, your light playful kisses along his neck, and gripping onto every naked part of you. For a whole minute, he’s forgotten that he’s in class with other no name individuals and a boring professor. He has tunnel vision whenever he’s with you.

“I have an arrangement.” The grip on your knee tightens at your quiet answer. An arrangement.

“The Gryffindor who had leafy greens in between his teeth?” Doyoung treads lightly, because you’re both well aware he’s made harsher insults than that. He retrieves his hand and picks up his pen as if he’s never touched you.

He sees your head shake out of the corner of his eye, you’re rolling your lips together sheepishly. There’s something odd about your stance and he’s growing a bit more curious…. A bit more spiteful at how closed off you are being. There’s something you’re hiding from him. “Then, who?”

“Is there something you’d like to discuss with the class, Mr. Kim? If not, I’d like for everyone to head over to the greenhouse.” As the class slightly snickers and the classroom empties, you and Doyoung are stopped by your professor.

Professor Sprout, wearing her worn out Dragon hide gloves and a thin lined smile, shoves a potted plant into Doyoung’s hands, “behave, you two. Your conversations are never very secret when spoken aloud.” She gives both of you a warning before proceeding out along with the rest of the class.

Doyoung scoffs at the absurd encounter and rolls his eyes. “Ah, you’re getting me in trouble with you now.”

“I’m sorry, Doyoung. It’s better that you don’t know.” You say this every time, when will you realize that keeping your hookups a secret only causes him more agony? He catches your wrist as you both exit the corridors, he barely ever has you alone now. And to say the least, he fucking misses you.

“Spare me some of your time after class.” He’s disgusted by himself, knowing that his eyes are begging for you to say yes. Him, a highly admired Slytherin, has settled for scraps and if anyone knew, they’d never let him live.

Your hand gently clasps over his and when you look up with your starry eyes, something inside him feels at peace. “Did you miss me?” He gulps at your question and blinks at you like a deer in headlights. If said by anyone else, he would not hesitate to snap his fingers into a malicious spell. But you ask the million dollar question so sweetly, there’s no taunt… there’s no mockery in your tone. It’s full of genuine curiosity.

So, he answers you with part of his heart that you know too well. “Unfortunately.” His body falls slightly in defeat, and suddenly the potted plant is alive in his hands. It’s wailing a dangerous and annoying loud cry, completely ruining the moment.

Doyoung quizzically ponders the monstrous green plant and its magical capabilities puzzle him, possibly reminding him to pay more attention to the actual curriculum than on your unbuttoned shirt.

Moreover, your giggle surprisingly calms him in this stressful situation and you lightly pat his hand that’s still gripping your wrist. “I’m all yours after class.”

Taking the wretched plant, you hurry off toward the greenhouse to find someone to diffuse the crying creature. Doyoung laughs in disbelief at your comical animated figure running around with a pot over your head and shouting for any student to help you. So you’re not paying attention in class either?

Doyoung takes you to your favorite place, despite the rule that you’re not allowed access to it. The Prefect Bathroom remains spotlessly clean and fresh paired with an immediate scent of rosewater and wild honeysuckle. The white polished marble gleams prettily under the twinkling diamond chandeliers and you’re twirling enthusiastically in the center of the large undressing area.

He observes and smiles widely to himself at the sight of your happiness and cute giggles. It’s always a risk to have you use their bathroom, but he is always abusing his privilege to seek your enjoyment that he truly doesn’t care about anything else. Your morality has beaten him enough and he’s heard plenty about his wrongdoings, yet here you are… sweetly dancing in the one place that’s absolutely wrong. Perhaps, you two have rubbed off a little too much on one another.

“I can never get sick of this place.” As you plead to Doyoung to cast a bubble bath, you’re already stripping out of your skirt. He shields his eyes to give you some privacy and recites the charm to run hot dazzling water in the ginormous pool. A nice soothing bath is exactly what you two need after a stressful day playing in the dirt.

“This is your favorite place.” says Doyoung with a matter of fact edge to this tone.

“It’s my favorite place because I only get to come here with you.” You jump on his back and he hoists you up by your thighs. His heart skips a happy tune. “I refuse for you to tell me the password, even if you do wish for me to enjoy the simple pleasures of a bubble bath.”

“You and your right and wrongs.” With eager hands, you’re loosening his tie from around his neck. “You stripped so fast that you’re going to get a cold.”

“It’s going to get steamy really soon. Plus, I know you like me best without any clothes on.” Your hot breath tickles the shell of his ear and a blush scatters across Doyoung’s cheek. Button after button, his open shirt exposes his toned build. He sets you on the edge of the elevated step before the bath.

Doyoung smirks at your nakedness and your hot lustful expression. Leaning in until he’s practically breathing against your lips, he stares straight into your eyes. “My Puff knows me best.” And dives into you with all his soul. Fruitful drags of his lips along yours, his long tongue enters your mouth. His large hand carefully caresses your cheek to pull you further into the kiss, noses pressing into skin and with a desire to never part.

His heart swells lovingly, kissing you feels like the best thing in the world. There are no tricks, no spells, no recited charms, but you are more than magical. The same surge of energy runs through his veins, but unlike his impressive ability as a notable wizard, he can’t control it. You make him lose control. As meticulous and cautious as he is, you’re the first thing he doesn’t think through.

Your needy hands push off his dress shirt and he hurriedly unbuckles his belt. When you break the kiss, he automatically pouts and pulls you back in for one more lingering peck. “Are you going to scrub my back for me?” You smile, dragging him closer to the overflowing bathtub.

Large puffs of white bubbles spill from the rims and disappear with your every step. It reminds you of sea foam that washes upon the shore, with a floral fragrant that fills your lungs. “That’s quite an intimate gesture, but yes.”

After removing all his garments, he joins you in the large pool of glossy bubbles and the clouds of steam that rises from the water suffocates him warmly. He sits with his back against the wall and eyes unwavering on your alluring expression.

The bubbles do a great job at covering your breasts, but his sneaky hands snake under the water to grip them. Doyoung grabs a full tit and thumbs over your erect nipple, all while he holds the most sensual gaze with you. Slowly, you naturally end up in his hold and your wet back relaxes against his chest.

The beating of his heart is too loud and surely, you can feel the way it jumps out of his chest. Doyoung attaches his lips on your skin and as you’re melting at his harsh suckling. However, you perk up and snap out of your dazed arousal at the realization of his purposeful licks. “You’re trying to mark me?”

His hand continues to rub and twist your aching nipples. The sensation stimulating the growth of pleasure to sprout below and your mind to wander.

“Possibly.”

A lovers’ mark is the ultimate testament of mutual love. Engraving the skin with your beloved’s Patronus, wherever the giver chooses to mark. Love emblems are meant to be something sacred to the couple, a way to make someone completely untouchable to everyone else. Not only does the symbol glow with an iridescent shine whenever love is felt, it also numbs any romantic feelings for all others besides the partner.

Besides the use of possessiveness, it’s a beautiful way to discover one true love since the engraving of their Patronus shows up on the skin under the conditions that both individuals must be madly in love with one another. And if it doesn’t end up forming, the receiver is left with a bright, sparkling star hue in its place before fading away completely. If it does appear, it fades when both fall out of love.

“Doyoung--” His name falls from your lips as a moan and he’s running down to explore the beauty between your legs. “--can’t do that unless you actually want to commit to me.”

“I am committed to you.” The more your neck cranes off to the side and exposed to him, the more he wishes to etch the symbol of his love for everyone to see. A hand is hooked under your thigh to keep your legs spread open and you’re gasping at the slight pressure from the water.

“Romantically committed to me.” You remind him, but your train of thought is cut fairly short as Doyoung begins rubbing circles on your needy clit.

“You’re afraid of it showing up?” He’s lathering your breasts with bubbles and dragging his long finger along your slit. His greediness overtakes him and with wandering hands, he’s gripping every part of you that they can reach. Doyoung’s guilty pleasure is always going to any form of physical affection from you specifically. When he finally gets ahold of you, it’s hard for him to let go.

Your warm skin is delicate and smooth beneath the very tips of his fingers and every exploration of your terrain makes him feel inexplicable explosions of fondness. Perhaps, you’ve captivated him and although he believed it would take something as extreme as the Amortentia to have him falling for someone, you did it as easily as being yourself. His better half.

So, he’s impressed by your genuineness and how he’s willing to give up parts of his reputation to unapologetically be himself around you. No one else matters, nothing else matters, but why must it be so difficult to tell you that?

“I’m afraid of it not showing up.” You’re more than convinced that Doyoung has confused his strong sense of lust with love and there would be no possible way his Patronus would appear. It’s better to save the embarrassment for the both of you.

Spinning in his arms, the water twirls to the curves of your body and he’s admiring parts that expose above the surface. He’s matched with your beauty before him, resemblance to the stained glass window that situates above the large bathroom.

However, the doubt in your statement finally reaches his ears and he’s grabbing your ass as you settle over his thighs again. His furrowed eyebrows bring together a rather upset expression --- lip pout and all.

“Why wouldn’t it show up?” Doyoung puzzles, bringing your arms to wrap around his neck. Leaning into him, your pruney fingers trace his smooth chin and he notices your quick flicker between his eyes and his lips.

While your gentle kiss reassures him of your subtle endearment, your next words do the opposite. “You tell me.” All you do is push him away with your vague doubtfulness, like you’re constantly testing him and using his poor guessing skills to your own advantage. He can pull you close after any altercation he wants, but you push him away in any emotionally romantic sense.

“You’re rather mischievous and mysterious today,” Doyoung squeezes your ass and smacks it lightly, causing ripples in the water. “I liked it better when you told me everything you felt.”

Suddenly, his fingers poke at your entrance and his other hand drops in between your legs again. Your mouth opens in shock when his long fingers enter slowly and he enjoys the pleasurable contour of your reactions. “Like this, for example.” The pad of his fingers working rapid flicks against your sensitive bud. “How does this feel?” His whisper dances across your shoulder, landing a kiss at the end of his question.

Your moans echo in the lavish bathroom, bouncing off the marble walls and encouraging Doyoung to keep a steady pace. There’s no worry about how loud you may be, Doyoung charms every room before every lustful encounter. This allows you to let go, let free, let him know how he makes you feel.

He curves his fingers into you, pumping and dragging into your tightness until you’re practically screaming. He only has one thought, as his eyes trail down your intoxicated needy figure, how beautiful you are as a moaning mess under his control. Your head is thrown back, eyes are squeezed shut and opening them to see nothing but tiny yellow starlight.

Dainty kisses line your exposed neck line and his ego swells with so much pride. Doyoung has mastered every flick of his wrist to have you under his trance, spewing nonsensical words and forgetting anyone else that exists. He gives your erect nipples harsh licks and with a faint drag of teeth, the sensation pushes you to your end.

Sporadic pleasurable convulsions cause your legs to close around Doyoung’s hands, but the strength of his knee keeps them apart. “Doyoung… I’m going to free fall.”

Leave it up to you to beautifully announce your climax. He snickers, applying more pressure on your clit and a rubbing motion against your walls. “I’ll catch you.”

Moon crescents embed into his skin as you’re holding onto him with your whole life. As your scream hits every octave, the massive collection of bubbles that cover the surface of the bath fly and splatter every corner of the pristine room.

White and wet bubbles drip down from the walls, falling from the diamond chandeliers, and coating every steamy mirror. Doyoung’s eyes light up from the chaos, making sure you’re riding out your high for as long as he can provide.

Your body trembles with euphoria, falling forward into Doyoung’s chest and squeezing around his lazily pumping fingers. For a brief second, your mind is wiped and nothing in the world feels better than being in this perfect moment with the one person who’s Patronus you hoped would etch your skin.

If one possesses feelings that are practically unbearable to contain, one should confess… right? For all your life, you’ve lived by this statement. Friends do not hear the end of it and most surely, one should follow their own advice… right?

So why do you yearn for Doyoung in your gaze as he stands across the Great Hall as if he doesn’t know of your existence? As if he wasn’t kissing you in the Prefect bathroom a few days prior?

It’s not an understatement to say that you catch the attention of almost every person in the room, but the one head that refuses to turn your way… the one who’s looks you wish to steal… is the one person who looks right through you.

Feelings have become a nuisance ever since the first time you confessed to him and it was worse than landing on cobblestone after falling off your broom. The reason why you’ve buried them deeper than any chamber is that you’re positive that the prized Slytherin would rather be with another, preferably one from his own house.

While you try to remain optimistic and playful for the time being, you’re simply replaceable to him. He can barely care to acknowledge you in public when Gryffindors boast about you in their arms like winning a trophy. You’ve kept good relations with every Ravenclaw you’ve slept with. You’ve kindly rejected every romantic gesture another Hufflepuff has offered.

But if there is one thing you’ve learned about him is that he’s lived in his Slytherin circle for as long as he lives. And it will stay that way. You’re his sweet Hufflepuff that he’ll push away at no cost, then pull you back in secrecy.

Now if one feels as if they’re wasting their time, one should leave… right? Wrong. Kim Doyoung has skewed with your morality… and your feelings remain loyal to him since the day he confessed to see you again.

“Lemon-drop, I’ve been looking all over for you.” An arm slings around your shoulders and the notable red and gold tie is the first thing you see. Jung Jaehyun, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, flashes his deep dimples at you. “Walk with me.”

He extends his palm out for you to take and your friends painfully elbow your sides to wake you from your hesitation. Taking his hand, you get up from the dining table and follow him out the Great Hall.

Doyoung sees the scene unfold before him and rolls his eyes at how Jaehyun’s dimples are all it takes to have you wandering off with him. Despite every wicked intent to follow you two, he heads out in the direction of the dormitories to fume in his room.

“It’s such a nice and sunny day today.” Jaehyun runs a hand through his luscious brown locks. You both exit into the front courtyard as other students are scattered on the lawns mingling with one another. When you peer up at the sky, the sun is barely seen past the layers of clouds.

“Jaehyun, is there something you needed to speak with me about?” His laughter roars, full of hefty song and amusement.

“Listen, lemon-drop. I like you and I have a feeling you feel the same way. I want to mark you if you’d let me.” Jaehyun smirks and just as he brings your hand up for a kiss, you gently let go. “Am I coming off too strong? We don’t have to do it today, I just wanted to see if it would show.”

“Jaehyun, you’re going to find an extravagant person one day. A person who is going to know all your favorite castle balconies to swing from and how you like to be kissed on the nose.” His ears grow a bright red and for once, his gaze drops to the ground. “I am, unfortunately, not that person for you so I must kindly reject your confession.”

As you turn on your toes, Jaehyun lightly holds your wrist to stop you. “But, you know all those things about me. Is there anything I can do to prove that we belong together?”

“I know them because I care enough to remember things you tell me, not because I loved you enough to observe these things about you. I give you my word that there is nothing you can do to prove me otherwise.” The corners of his lips dip downward and you’re running to the one person that will erase this sad rejection from your memory.

When you’re scanning the Great Hall for any sign of him, he’s not there and it leads you to his only hiding place. Doyoung loves to shut himself out from the rest of the school whenever he gets the chance. However, a lost Hufflepuff wandering outside the entrance of the Slytherin dormitories is rather an odd sight to see and you haven’t had the chance to form many connections from this house.

The sparse amount of Slytherins you know aren’t going to be passing by, unless with some stroke of luck, someone will be kind enough to open the door for you. Every person passes by you with questionable stares until a silver haired boy blinks at you with wide eyes.

“Who is it that you’re trying to see?” He asks abrasively, but softens his tone when he realizes that you mean no harm.

You bid him a small grin, “your Prefect.”

“And what for?”

“There is an urgent matter that involves him and he’s practically unreachable when he’s hiding away in his private room.” The boy narrows his eyes at you, but beckons you to follow him down to the Slytherin dungeon.

Excitedly, you hurry behind him and whisper over his shoulder, “what’s your name?”

“Nakamoto Yuta. No need to tell me yours, I’ll doubt he’d want me to know.” He spits and then, mutters the enchanted password to reveal the large green common room. “Come this way.” He leads up the boys’ dorms and walks briskly. Although you never mentioned a name, Yuta seems to already know who you’re here to see and it makes you wonder how he must know.

“Open up.” Yuta stops and knocks at the wooden door, Kim Doyoung written in a fancy penmanship on the center. “You have a guest.” He looks your way before rolling his eyes at Doyoung’s irritated tone through the other side.

“Tell them to leave.”

“He wants you to leave.” Yuta repeats, mostly to satisfy Doyoung’s nag.

“That’s fine. Thank you for bring---” The door swings open abruptly and Yuta almost loses his balance. Doyoung frantically turns his head side to side to comprehend what he is seeing. His ears felt deceived, hearing your voice through the door, he had to make sure it wasn’t you.

But you stand before him and Yuta. Here you are approaching him whenever he least expects it. “What are you doing here?”

“I came by to see you. I’ve been here plenty of times.”

“What are you doing bringing her in?” scolds Doyoung and the other boy shrugs carelessly.

“What was I supposed to do? Let her bat puppy eyes at several other Slytherins and have her telling everyone who passes her that she came here to see our Prefect? It was also getting cold out.” Yuta mumbles, but finds great entertainment at seeing how frazzled Doyoung has gotten by your presence.

“It was a bit chilly.” You admit and Doyoung groans, pulling you into his room and shutting the door on Yuta. “Thank you, Yuta.” You whisper through the crack between the door frame.

“It’s too risky for you to be searching for me around other Slytherins.” Doyoung paces the room and you notice his tie is loose and shirt is unbuttoned around his neck. “Why are you here?”

“A Gryffindor blew me off. I thought I’d come and see you with all the free time I can get.” Taking a seat at the end of his neatly made bed, your legs swing adorably and Doyoung almost doesn’t hear you.

“Jaehyun? Does he think he’s too good for you or something? That cocky dimple Gryffindor, with the draw of my wand---” Doyoung whips out his intricately customized Dragon Heartstring, and you’re on your feet to calm his temper down.

“Will you put that thing away? I’m here for you.” Your giggle warms his tight chest and puts out the fueling flame for anyone who dares to hurt you in any way. “It’s not a big deal and it’s not the first time it has happened.”

Doyoung uncomfortably clears his throat and withdraws his wand. Buttoning up his shirt, he fixes his tie back in place. To say the least, your words erupted his festering jealousy and this may have been a small tipping point.

Before you had entered, he was so frustrated with himself and you. You can just walk away with another man without a second thought, in front of him too. He remembered the soft feeling of your body and how he’s not the only one who’s needy hands ran their course over you. That may be the one pain he can never get rid of.

“I never understood why you give other men the time of your day when they just brush you off undeservingly.” He stings and you’re slightly surprised at his sudden attack. When you respond in silence, he continues.“I thought Hufflepuffs are to be loyal, so why do you sleep with other men?”

Crossing your arms, your weight is barred on your left leg and there is a shift in your overall mood. With an eyebrow raised, you sass him back, “People say Slytherins are ambitious, so why didn’t you chase after me?”

Doyoung swallows hard and blinks at you speechless. A clammy hand runs through his black strands as he tries to find any possible explanation without confessing his feelings. If he had a plan to confess, it would never be in the middle of an inquisition with you.

“I guess you didn’t think before acting on your desires.” And how he hated how correct that statement is. He doesn’t ever think whenever he’s around you. All his actions are conducted with his emotions and the feelings that overtake him.

Doyoung scoffs, rolling his eyes at your rash comment. “Aren’t you supposed to have the strongest morality among all the houses?”

“Sleeping with multiple men isn’t morally wrong. There’s nothing wrong with it…” The slight hurt from his question is difficult to ignore, but you must remember one thing if you want to protect your heart on your sleeve. This is nothing serious to be bickering over. You two aren’t anything serious, so why feel the need to squabble over nonsense? “... it would only be wrong if someone liked me and wished to commit to me.”

Your eyes meet and Doyoung blinks at you with wide eyes. His Adam’s Apple bobs as he gulps again, completely whiplashed at how the conversation has turned. “And if that’s the case and you like me, would that make you jealous, Doyoung? That’s why you’re trying to poorly attack my character?” He’s never heard such a strong taunt in your tone and he’s baffled by it, slightly aroused, but shocked.

“I don’t like you.” His voice is small and he pouts his lips at you. Doyoung crosses his arms and perhaps, his sad expression reveals a little more than it should have. Your heart softens at his ridiculously cute response, had you expected something much more angry and vindictive.

“Then this conversation is over, right? I’ll be on my way now. I have herbology.”

“We have the same class.” He grumbles, grabbing his robe from his desk chair.

You open the door to make your exit, “but since you don’t want to be seen with a Hufflepuff, I’ll go ahead first.” When you stumble out into the hallway, a recognizable face brightens at your appearance.

“Haechan! Hello, I haven’t seen you in a while.” You’re cheering and Doyoung chews the inside of his cheek. His pride is left at the door and along with all the things that hold him back from you, he doesn’t want to push you away anymore.

“My favorite Hufflepuff, are you just leaving?” Haechan walks up to open his arms, wishing to embrace you in the longest hug. However, Doyoung quickly takes you by your hand and rushes past him.

“She came to walk with me to class. Bye Haechan.” And Haechan is left standing in the middle of the hallway, confused and watching your backs as you’re both briskly walking out the common room.

Doyoung looks back at you, “you think I’m going to let you walk out of my room and have another Slytherin walk you to class? Don’t be so foolish.”

But you are foolish. Your heart beats foolishly and loudly for Kim Doyoung. And may you be foolish enough to wonder if his heart does the same for you.

And it does. Foolishly. Loudly. Lovingly.

You both wonder if this vicious cycle will ever meet its end. Doyoung pushes you away by ignoring your existing relationship, but pulls you back into his embrace as if it never happened. You push him away by running off with other men, but come back to him as if he’s the one person you’re loyal to.

But on this particular night, after mass circulation of rumors reaches the ears of the lovesick Slytherin, Doyoung is pulling you away from your huddled group of friends in the middle of the long corridor hallways. Without any greeting, any spoken words, he’s dragging you to his room right in front of everyone to see. His hand around yours like it was two days prior, but with an expression so grave on his sullen face.

The silence between you two brings no comfort, but you don’t dare say the first words. Doyoung, finally, approached you first in public and it is possibly for a greater reason. Perhaps you’ve done something horribly wrong, and the moment you two step into his room that you’ll hear a mouthful.

However when he closes the door to his room, your hand immediately drops from his embrace and he turns to face you. There is a darkness in his eyes, one that light cannot touch, and his lips are tight in a line.

There is an eerie silence that fills the dark room and the murky windows paint the area an ominous green. Doyoung focuses on your confused, yet adorable expression. “Why did you lie to me?”

The door catches your slight stumble and you’re blinking cluelessly at him. “About what?”

“Jaehyun.” He breathes the name in spite and aggressively loosens his tie. “He didn’t blow you off. You rejected him and he’s telling everyone it's because you’re in love with someone else.”

You scorn at such a ridiculous rumor and for the fact that it’s even made its way around to Doyoung. Another realization hits you. All it took for him to approach you in public is a meaningless rumor.

So in response, you laugh and it mocks him further. “This is not a laughing matter, y/n.”

“I’m sorry, but why are you so upset at that? Fine. I did lie to you, but I never told Jaehyun I was in love with anyone else.”

“Are you in love with someone else?” Doyoung says with balled fists at his side. There is a mixture of anger and sadness running through his veins and he’s so sick of feeling this way.

Your hesitation speaks for you, “It’s better that you don’t know.”

“You say this every time and it does nothing to ease my conscience.” Doyoung throws his hands in the air and stares at you with sharp eyes. “Is that why you were afraid that my emblem wouldn’t show up? Because your heart belongs to another. Yeah, I heard Jaehyun wanted to mark you too.”

Men and their constant want to prove something to themselves with their marks. Everyone has a twisted reality of markings now. There have been many others who have tried to mark you, feeling as if lust would be enough to suffice its appearance. As one's Patronus is special to their own protection, a beloved’s Patronus mark holds the same value.

You’re quite at a loss for words, “I was afraid that it wouldn’t show up, not because of myself, but because of you.”

Doyoung points at himself in disbelief. Him? He loves you more than anyone he’s ever encountered, even if you didn’t know it. “I wouldn’t have almost tried it if I wasn’t sure of myself.”

“You don’t love me, Doyoung. I don’t even know if I can even say you romantically like me.” Those words hurt the both of you and it lingers in the room for longer than you’d like.

“Do you think I fuck you meaninglessly like all those other losers you sleep with?” Doyoung steps forward, pulling you into his chest and admiring everything he’s fallen in love with. A pain spreads across his heart as he thinks of you with another person, of someone else kissing you, of someone else making you happy.

“You really don’t feel it in the way I kiss you?” He asks once more and your own stare drops to his shoulder, a bit ashamed to maintain eye contact with such pained eyes.

“And if I did? How would you explain that? That you are actually in love with me?” Your questions pelt him like rocks. As he pushes you on his bed, you pull him down with his tie.

Doyoung drinks you up like fresh water, a crisp and refreshing love that encourages him to reach heights. His hand cups your face and his feather touches reminds you of his gentleness. Your lips taste like sweet honey, dripping and coating him with a sticky sugar.

He’s happier with you and he’s the happiest kissing you. Perhaps, it’s hard for him to express with words, but he’d always hope his actions speak louder. So, his lips press against yours with a whirl of passion and every good feeling that grows in his chest.

The collar of his shirt is wrinkled in your fist and you’re holding him as if you’re afraid of him letting go. Doyoung runs a hand down your torso and lifts the end of your skirt up. A warm hand pushes your legs apart and a finger presses your clit through your cotton panties.

Your mouth opens into a moan and he takes this opportunity to shove his long tongue inside, lapping with your own. As a wet spot forms on your panties, he pulls them to the side and gathers the slick to gently rub your erect clit. His name is lost and muffled in the kiss, but you tap at his chest.

When he breaks away and halts all movement, he looks down over you with a fire burning in his dark orbs. And a confession falls from his swollen lips, “may I mark you?”

“And if it doesn’t show up?” Though, you’re wishing to the most powerful wizards that it does or else your heart would shatter into a million pieces beyond repair.

He bites his lip and every possible outcome scatters his thoughts. It’s too hard to concentrate, so he doesn’t at all. He focuses on your pretty lips and the way you look at him like he’s the only person that matters. “Then, we’ll deal with the consequences later.”

With your quick nod, Doyoung attaches his lips to your neck and harshly sucks at your skin. For the most part, it’s a pleasurable feeling and sends a shiver down your spine. So, he licks and nibbles until he can barely breathe. Your faint scent of patchouli and ginger intoxicates him, wraps him up in a fuzzy coziness that is unmatched.

Your hands unbutton his shirt and a final gentle bite seals his mark. If the love is reciprocated, the emblem would take a moment to form. Doyoung is rather hopeful and excited, as he’s never seen his Patronus before. “You look beautiful.”

“And you look dazed as if someone charmed you.” You giggle and kiss his red lips.

“You’re quite the powerful one, my Puff.” He smiles against your jaw before proceeding to your mess down below. He gives your aching clit a few licks, which cause your body to twist and turn at the sensitive sensation.

“Please, I haven’t felt you in so long.” Whining and tugging at his hair, Doyoung leaves a lasting kiss and gets up to remove his pants.

“Did you miss me?” Doyoung raises a suggestive eyebrow and cocks his head to the side in mockery, a smirk growing on his face.

You reply with a silly response that only he knows and causes him to chuckle, “unfortunately.” And he’s finding every way not to confess his endearments for you.

His dick stands tall and proud against his abdomen, giving it a few jerks as he watches you strip out of your own clothes. You turn around and sit on your knees, with a slight tilt forward and the arch in your back to accentuate your ass.

Doyoung rolls on the protection as quickly as he can. His hands lightly smack your cheeks and slowly enters your dripping hole. His hands grip your hips as he slides deeper into you, both being moaning messes at the delicious feeling.

“Have you always been this big?” You look back at him and to which he devilishly smiles at you.

“You know just the way to fuel my ego,” when his length is fully buried inside of your tight walls, he wraps an arm around your waist and a hand on your tit. “After all the times you’ve been fucked, your pussy is still as tight as ever.”

Doyoung slams hard into you, showing no mercy and causing you to jolt up. He takes every frustration, every feeling of anger, every ounce of jealousy into his thrusts. “But you take me so well, darling. I’ve never seen someone as pretty as you.”

His compliments cause your heart to soar, despite the soreness you’re beginning to feel in your pussy. He’s relentless, bottoming out until his tip is practically in your guts. “Just like that, baby. You’re the only one who fucks me this good.”

He blushes under the low light and leans forward to kiss the top of your head. “My Puff, you’re so sweet to me.” The loud squelch of your tight pussy gripping his dick fills the hot room, “and so wet.”

You’re shamelessly dripping on his green velvet blanket and Doyoung picks up his speed. Your knees give out as you fall face forward into the mattress, hands in fists from the incredible pleasure of every hit. Your ass now in his full view and every tingle of magic lights up in his veins.

Your throat is raw from screaming and moaning, Doyoung holds your hips steady to thrust into a new angle. Automatically, your body twitches as his tip hits your special spot and he’s well aware that you’re close to releasing.

And with his fast thrusts, he asks you an intimate question that is fueled by envy and rage. “If I fuck you the best, then why do you sleep with other men?”

There are no thoughts in your mind to even give him a white lie, to mask the truth of your actions. He’s fucking you into an oblivion that it’s hard to even focus on anything besides pleasure. The books on his shelf begin to tremble as you’re crying out, “I- I don’t know! Fuck, please… ! I’m tipping over.”

“Answer the question or I will stop.” He’s absolutely cynical and you have every reason to believe his threat. Doyoung lifts your limp body upright, against his torso and an arm secured around your middle as before. His hand snakes to your clit, rubbing feathering circles over the neglected bud.

Nonetheless, his single action paired with his tip grazing harshly against the particular spot causes your legs to tremble. “Do you want me to stop?” His threat rings in your ears when you still left him without an answer.

You’re so close, you’re starting to see white. So, you say what your heart tells you and the truth falls from your lips in a loud confession. “Because I wanted you to love me instead! I fucked them to forget about my love for you… fuck, I’m--”

“I’ve got you. Let go of yourself, baby.” Doyoung slows his hips when your walls squeeze around him sporadically. Every book flies out and hits the opposite wall, clattering the floor with heavy academia. However, he repeats your proclamation endlessly in his mind and his heart surges with the most intense romantic desires.

“I do love you, y/n.” He whispers, cumming into his rubber and simply holding you tightly. He lets go of every prideful arrogance in his body, tossing the lame reputation he always tried to hold onto. He didn’t need that if it meant losing you. Doyoung chuckles to himself for being an obvious cliché, announcing one’s love in the midst of a lustful act. He pulls out and gently tucks you into the covers.

Breathless, you’re finally realizing his confession. “You do? Are you sure?” Any subtle movements has your aching lower half in pain, so you settle with resting on his plush pillows and await for him to join you in bed.

All this time, from beginning to now, you’ve been oblivious to his yearning looks across the Great Hall. The intensity of his kisses had been lost upon you completely as you had convinced yourself that he was incompatibly of loving you back. Even now, as you lay in slight doubt, you’re wondering how you managed to have everything fly over your head.

When he discards his used protection and with a quick flick of his wrist, every book finds its original place on the shelf again, he enters the warm covers. Your arms wrap around his neck and you’re admiring each other’s expressions in the low light. He spots the notable twinkle in your eyes and his thumb lightly rubs your cheek.

“If the symbol of my Patronus doesn’t show, I promise to love you harder until it does.” Doyoung leaves the softest, most loving kiss on your lips. He’s more than thankful for the lack of light as he’s bashfully red all over his cheeks.

“Usually, people just give up.” Your voice is harsh, possibly from the deafening screaming of pleasure prior.

Doyoung shakes his head. He’s made too many mistakes in this relationship with you. Sleeping with another. Ignoring your existence. Being too prideful to be seen with another house. All these incidents have made him feel nothing but ugliness and distraught, and pushed you away further than how much he is able to pull you back.

He loves you. He’s in love with you. He’s fallen for you recklessly as you did off your broom the first encounter. You’re everything he’s never been and never will be, yet you don’t care. You’re by his side, despite his spitefulness and you never miss a beat. That innocent youth approach to love, oh how he wishes it never faded, and though he thought it did, it didn’t. You remain true to your character when he fights with himself internally.

“That would be a mistake and I can’t afford to keep making them.” A glossy sheen over Doyoung’s regretful eyes, but you pull him closer and you refuse to let his eyes wander.

A tired harmless sigh escapes your lips and a dreamy haze overcomes you. Besides the reminder of needing to use the bathroom flashing in your mind, there is nothing else you want to dissect. Feelings are too complex to discuss at the moment and the resolve has already passed.

Regardless of the marks appearing, you’re content with the night and for the rest of your days. Kim Doyoung, the Slytherin boy of your dreams, loves you back and the power of that alone beats any spell in those dusty old textbooks.

“Why can’t we lay here forever?” Your heavy eyelids fall slowly and your voice grows small.

Doyoung kisses your shoulder, then your neck. “That’s impossible. I can’t give you forever.” He mumbles against your skin, sending vibrations across your throat.

“You are my forever.” Doyoung halts and is left speechless as a white glowing entity catches his eye. And the absolute perfect outline of his Patronus sits underneath your jaw, brightly shining with iridescent brilliance --- he makes out the outline: a White Swan, representing his love for you. Doyoung smiles to himself and hopes for it to never fade. Perhaps, he can give you forever.

some fun critical questions to think about hehe -

why do you think y/n lied to doyoung about jaehyun confessing? why do you think yuta helped y/n enter the Slytherin dormitories? what is the meaning behind the White Swan Patronus? Why do you think y/n continued to like doyoung after all this time?

there are no right or wrong answers, just something fun to have you thinking a little more about the fic haha if you want, you can send me an ask about it :) but overall, no pressure and thank you for reading! please leave me some feedback if you can! happy new year!